Sprog, Interrupted
Posted by Moose on August 18th, 2007. Filed under: Gene Pool.My poor mother. She’s being yanked around mercilessly. A few months ago, her granny lust was promised fulfillment. The heavens opened up and light shone down upon her head as the wheels under her hair started clicking toward Baby Gap. My inbox was suddenly full of emails that said things like “I’m going to Belgium in April. DON’T HAVE THE BABY IN APRIL.” At which time I’d have to remind her that the baby is still nonexistent.
Now that we’ve guided the baby talk away from baby names and toward Are We Really Suited Or Have We Just Been Kidding Ourselves For Five Years, my mom’s emails have featured fewer caps and more question marks: “What’s going on? What’s happened now? WHERE IS MY GRANDCHILD?” Oh, sorry. The caps are still there.
In the shallow end, the end full of diamond rings and wee baby hats, this is a sobering development. But up where the big, black letters read “6 Feet, No Diving,” this is a good thing, and points toward a conscious decision with real commitment (or not) rather than just falling into something that might not be a good idea.
But hell hath no fury like a potential grandma told “maybe.” Most people wait until a few weeks or months after conception to share the knitted booty news. This shows good, solid reasoning. Congratulations, reasonable people who use reason. None of you have to retrench like George Bush when things don’t go according to plan.
I’m not sure what’s more upsetting – that my life seems to be swirling slowly toward unrecognizable or that I can compare myself to George Bush.
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August 19th, 2007 at 9:33 am
I’d just like to take this opportunity to tell you I love you. With or without babies. We’re soon to be beating down the kitchen with ozomatli, los lonely boys, and los de abajo (it’s taco salad night at the crunchy home! weee!). But let me know when you’re likely to be on google…I’m thinking you’re not up yet…
August 19th, 2007 at 9:58 am
Wait! Moose Ma’s coming to Europe in April? And she’s not coming to the crunchy hotel? Oh, I am sad. Very sad. But, I’ll try not to take offense. Belgium sounds more exciting to me too!
August 19th, 2007 at 7:37 pm
Disappointed potential grammies = bad. I offer my own mom as exhibit A. She’s tracking the remaining lifespan of my ova like analysts track the national debt.
August 19th, 2007 at 9:04 pm
The day my mom stops writing emails in caps lock is the day I know she’s been body snatched like apparently happens in (myriad movies including) that upcoming Nicole Kidman one Chris wants to see. I wish I could give you a hug. Or a large slice of warm chocolate cake. (I make a mean chocolate cake.)
August 19th, 2007 at 9:54 pm
kids can be fun.
i suggest waiting. until your say, 50.
August 19th, 2007 at 10:22 pm
My mom is still in lowercase mode, but we did get the “Not that I’m rushing you, but when you’re ready, if you’re ready, I’d be happy to babysit,” spiel last time we visited.
August 20th, 2007 at 4:00 am
I never experienced the “Where are my grandchildren?” dilemma. In fact, I think the first thing my mother said is, “Oh.” And my dad said, “Well, y’know … there’s never a good time to have a baby and there’s never a bad time to have a baby.”
Yep, that’s what was said.
We were overcome with pressure, let me tell ya.
August 20th, 2007 at 2:44 pm
Ugh. (pokes pin in a balloon and watches it go all flubbery) Moms on the grandma tangent are worsen than coondogs on the scent (notice my colloquialism please). At least she isn’t acting like my dad and saying, “I’ll be dead soon. Tell your children about me.” I’m not kidding.
Don’t worry, your ovum have plenty of shelf life. Hell, a woman in NY just had a baby at age sixty about a month ago. See? In another 30 or so years, you and your baby can both go on Gerber graduates together.
August 20th, 2007 at 3:13 pm
Definitely being able to compare yourself to George Bush is worse. I’m from Connecticut, and the fact that he was born in New Haven makes me feel shameful and shudder-y. It’s embarrassing.
When I told my mom I was pregnant (unmarried, unemployed, 22 years old), she fell down. Literally. It was actually, in hindsight, pretty funny. So I never got the caps lock where’s the baby thing, but I still feel your pain. I get plenty of other caps lock stuff.
August 20th, 2007 at 4:43 pm
Wish I could say I didn’t know what you were talking about, but the future mother-in-law is just dying to know when we’ll have kids…the current answer is never, but that’s probably more just to irk her than anything else.