Never Ever Play Chicken with my Mom

Back in the day, when the only video games people know of are the likes of Pac-Man and Galaga and kids actually went out to play, I had a sudden urge to learn how to dance Hawaiian.  For some reason, my six-year old self thought that having that grass skirt and hula'ing the day and night away was something that I would have loved to do for the rest of my life.  I begged my parents to let me go, even compromised to go over and beyond being a "good girl."  (Yeah, I know....stop laughing!).  I prodded and prodded, until they finally said yes.  I was so happy, thinking that I'd be the next girl doing the shaky-shaky like that dancer on the opening credits of Hawaii Five-O.

My Mom went to the nearest YMCA and enrolled me to a summer class of Hawaiian dancing and bought me this green grass skirt.  When I saw the skirt, I was so happy and tried it on, even showing off to the rest of those who would care how I'd look nice in it.  I was in Cloud 9 just thinking how I'd be shaking my hips whilst the grass skirt swept the floor!  Yep, I'd be the best dancer out there!  Aaaaaaaaaaaand......the first day of class came.  

I don't know what happened the day before, but all I remember is that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  Now, as most people who know me, I'm bratty when I'm not in the mood.  I know people are crabby on that kind of day, but somehow, all the brat gods in the world convened and empowered me with a very potent mixture of brat mixture and made me drink it in my dreams.  When I arrived at the class, I didn't want to be there.  I don't even want to wear the stupid grass thingy made of plastic straws.  Like who cares if Mom spent some time to make sure I had what I needed to go to a stupid class which I didn't want anyway! Really, why would this princess need to dance?  So, like any other princesses in training, I wailed and screamed and fought and sat on the floor like the spoiled little princess that I was.  Heck, I screamed so much, I even managed to get a bag of chips out of it just as so I could have my way.  Nope, this girl ain't dancin' and that was that!

On our way home, Momsy was just very quiet.  I looked at her, and she just gave me a curt smile.  To pacify her, I even made another compromise.  I told her, "I don't feel like dancing today, but I will tomorrow.  Okay, Momsy?"  She just nodded.  

When we got home, I planned to go out and play.  Momsy, the most-loving mommy in the whole wide world, called me.  I was batting my eyes like the sweet baby that I was and asked her if there was anything she needed.  She replied with a question that would be forever inflicted in my head.  She asked, "How many?"  I looked at her with my innocent brown eyes and asked, "Oh Momsy, whatever do you mean?"  She replied, "How many spankings do you want?"  This is when I realized that my mother is now trying to play chicken with me.  My small, sensible side was pleading, "Don't reply!  Say you're sorry!  Don't do it!"  However, my large, egomaniacal side shouted, "How dare this woman think that you're beyond reproach?  Show her what you're made of!  She'll never do it!"  With the same calmness as my Mom had, I confidently said, "Five."  Yeah......big mistake.  Mom went and got my Dad's leather belt and said, "Okay, go lay down on your belly.  If I hear one crack from you, we are going to start back at one."  And everything after that was blurry.  The next day, I went to the Hawaiian dance class and Pearly Shell'd my ass off like there's no tomorrow.  I became one of the most outstanding dancers in my grade, even went to graduate and danced in front of a whole lotta crowd.  Whatever I did, I sure was not going to throw a fit and piss off my really scary Mother and dare her.  EVER!  

Years later, when we reminisced about this incident, Mom revealed that had I said none, she wouldn't have spanked me at all.  She even chided, "I'm a fair woman.  I only give things you ask for."  And people wonder where I got my smart ass-ness.....lol!

If you read this and thought that my mom was an abusive woman, then you missed the whole point.  She's far from it.  She is loving, caring, and would give anything and everything to her children.  By the same token, she wants us to learn the value of discipline and that we cannot drastically act on things just because we felt like it.  She instilled in us the notion of thinking about your actions carefully and that we and we alone are responsible for our decisions.  Whatever the outcome is, we have to own up to it, and take the consequences, good or bad.  Up to this day, that incident, along the many other times I've been unfairly spanked (for I can never do wrong....LOL), always guide me on how I make my decisions.  

And I've learned not to play chicken with my Mom.  She be crazy....LOL! 

Happy Mother's Day Mom.  I may be partial, but you are the best Mommy in the world.  I love you.

A Birthday Blah

Last year around this time, I felt miserable turning 35.  Most people hate turning 30, but for me, 35 is that age that made me look back and reminisce my life.  It’s like that Sex and City episode when Carrie felt depressed about turning 40.  Last year, that was me.  It felt as if the things I wanted to do were eons away from my grasp.  I felt miserable so much that I was very combative with people who were sunny and happy and disgusting!  To me, the end of my life came to its end and I officially became a married old hag.  That continued for the rest of the year and the new year until………today.

I don’t know what it is about today that makes me feel invigorated.  Maybe it’s that guy at the Argentinian bakery shop who kept on hitting on me despite the fact that the hubster was with me.  Or that waitress at Chili’s who really wouldn’t serve me my Long Island Iced Tea until I showed my ID.  I don’t care if it was protocol, she still carded me, so shut it!  Or that twentysomething cutie pie who thought I was still in college and was ready to buy me coffee.  Maybe these people really made feel that age is just a number, and that how we look can be deceiving.  (That, or maybe I just wanted to be deceived).

I’m not really sure what’s different from last year, but I know the similarities with all my birthdays.  For one, I like having people greet me on this day.  People telling me happy birthday makes me feel that they are celebrating my being part of this dysfunctional world we live in.  Now, I’m not just talking about the mandatory HBD greetings (though I appreciate them as well), but those who actually call or contact me and send out heartfelt and sometimes funny birthday messages.  Most people hate being reminded about the additional year to their age, but I relish them.  Those people make me feel that I am a part of their lives, no matter how miniscule it may be. 

Another thing that feels the same to me is how I love getting  birthday cakes.  It’s not a celebration without the cake.  Not an ice cream cake, not some gourmet tart shit, but a birthday cake.  I don’t care if you put my age on top, but I want my birthday cake!  Add the balloon and I’m a happy girl.  Enough said.  (Yes, I know I’m a kid!)

Of all the things that feel the same about every birthday I have is the love I get from my family and friends.   Now, I’m not talking about the ones that really don’t matter, but rather the ones who are really important to me, the ones who have gone through hell and back with me, looking for that needle in the haystack for me.  They remind me that every year I’m hear, I get to spend another year with them and that every breath I take allows me to relish them every single time. 

So, really I still don’t know why 35 was insanely depressing for me, and 36 isn’t.  I honestly have been trying to answer that these past couple of months.  Things are still beyond my reach, but I'm reaching them. However, as I type this mundane blog of mine, I just started thinking on all my past birthdays, and end of it all, it was probably because I didn’t get a party last year.  What?  You know how shallow I can be. :-P

Happy Birthday to me, and I do hope that I get many more.  Maybe I should go to that bakery again....lol!