Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret
I read a whole book today. I finished Anne Lamott's Blue Shoe last night, so this morning I picked up the used copy of Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret that I bought at Goodwill recently. I read the whole thing today between changing diapers and fixing lunch and watching babies and cleaning the kitchen and folding laundry.
When I was going into sixth grade myself, I remember my new friend, Misty Frizzell, telling me about this book. Back in the day (1976), Judy Blume's book about a sixth-grade girl's yearning for her menstrual cycle to begin and her search for a religious identity was scandalous. I thought it seemed very tame today, as I read it in this century as a 39-year old woman, but back then it was a book you read secretly, so your mother wouldn't notice and ask questions.
Misty Frizzell was an exuberant new friend. I met her at the local Assembly of God church and as quick as a wink, I was spending days and nights at her house which was at the far edge of our town. Her dad, Doug, looked like Survivor's Rupert. He had a hearty laugh and a shaggy beard and Misty told me in a stage-whisper that he had a hairy butt. She knew this because sometimes he would walk around naked. I couldn't recall seeing my own father without his shirt and shoes on, so this bit of information scared the beejeebies out of me. Would he prance around in his birthday suit while I spent the night? I kept my eyes averted when I walked to their bathroom.
I remember they had wicker furniture in their living room. Misty had naturally platinum blond hair and a horse she kept out behind her house. Her parents were funny and played jokes on each other. I couldn't believe my good fortune in finding a friend like Misty. I needed a dependable, fun friend to pal around with when we all went to middle school.
And then, sixth grade started and I wasn't in the "cool" group of kids and Misty abandoned me like some kind of reptile skin she outgrew and shed. Throughout the rest of our school years, we never really spoke again. But I thought of her today when I reread Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. Misty was so much like the protaganist of the story--longing to develop, longing for her period, longing to kiss boys and willing to follow the crowd. No wonder she loved the book and wondered if I did, too.
Now. I finished Blue Shoe last night and can give my hearty recommendation. Here are my favorite two lines:
"She did not mind this weather, and certainly preferred it to the tyrrany of a bright blue day, when old voices told you to get off your duff and go outside."
"And by God, ten minutes later, Mattie was gently bathing one of Abby's feet in a salad bowl of warm soapy water, wiping the grime off her ankle and heel and toes with a dish towel and Ivory soap, working the cat litter out of the cracks in her sole."
When I was going into sixth grade myself, I remember my new friend, Misty Frizzell, telling me about this book. Back in the day (1976), Judy Blume's book about a sixth-grade girl's yearning for her menstrual cycle to begin and her search for a religious identity was scandalous. I thought it seemed very tame today, as I read it in this century as a 39-year old woman, but back then it was a book you read secretly, so your mother wouldn't notice and ask questions.
Misty Frizzell was an exuberant new friend. I met her at the local Assembly of God church and as quick as a wink, I was spending days and nights at her house which was at the far edge of our town. Her dad, Doug, looked like Survivor's Rupert. He had a hearty laugh and a shaggy beard and Misty told me in a stage-whisper that he had a hairy butt. She knew this because sometimes he would walk around naked. I couldn't recall seeing my own father without his shirt and shoes on, so this bit of information scared the beejeebies out of me. Would he prance around in his birthday suit while I spent the night? I kept my eyes averted when I walked to their bathroom.
I remember they had wicker furniture in their living room. Misty had naturally platinum blond hair and a horse she kept out behind her house. Her parents were funny and played jokes on each other. I couldn't believe my good fortune in finding a friend like Misty. I needed a dependable, fun friend to pal around with when we all went to middle school.
And then, sixth grade started and I wasn't in the "cool" group of kids and Misty abandoned me like some kind of reptile skin she outgrew and shed. Throughout the rest of our school years, we never really spoke again. But I thought of her today when I reread Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. Misty was so much like the protaganist of the story--longing to develop, longing for her period, longing to kiss boys and willing to follow the crowd. No wonder she loved the book and wondered if I did, too.
Now. I finished Blue Shoe last night and can give my hearty recommendation. Here are my favorite two lines:
"She did not mind this weather, and certainly preferred it to the tyrrany of a bright blue day, when old voices told you to get off your duff and go outside."
"And by God, ten minutes later, Mattie was gently bathing one of Abby's feet in a salad bowl of warm soapy water, wiping the grime off her ankle and heel and toes with a dish towel and Ivory soap, working the cat litter out of the cracks in her sole."
posted by Melodee at Tuesday, July 27, 2004
4 Comments:
It makes my stomach hurt a little to think of sixth grade...and that I have a daughter starting sixth grade this year. It is amazing having such clear memories..I can see you have them too. It's a plus and a minus...
~Tina
First off, I apologize for the intrusion. I don't normally (ever, actually) leave comments on random stranger's personal websites, but I was intrigued by your posts and my curiosity is thoroughly piqued.
Who I am, and why I'm here: I'm a 20 year old computer geek, currently enrolled in a Wisconsin state university as a computer science major. I am a pastor's son, and used to live about 30 mi east of Seattle for a chunk of my childhood. I got here by clicking on a random link on a page that I found by looking at the referral URL for one of the visitors of my own blog. Though I go by the internet alias Shot Baker, or just Baker, my actual name is Aaron.
Before I get into why I couldn't just let you alone here, I have to say first: That I have a nasty habit of divulging what I have to say in 60 words when it should be thoroughly sufficed by 6. I'll attempt to make this short and to the point. And second: I certainly won't be offended if this is ignored, or simply removed, as I may be asking something more personal than you are comfortable with.
So... I was quite intrigued with the way you describe your life and how you balance being a mother, wife, and contributor to the church, and how you balance this full time job. While I was quite encouraged by your dedication to your family (a quality which seems to be getting increasingly harder to find in today's society), as I get older, I realize how much of a toll so many tasks can have on a person and how little they can be appreciated or even realized. My mother, for example, has always felt that she was just expected to be able to do it all and take care of everything at work, at home, and at church. She was always more than willing to help, but so many times she was frustrated by the lack of insight of other people to see what needed to be done and get it done. She felt that if it was going to get done at all, she would have to do it herself. And it seemed like everyone else was more than content to let her, not realizing how much work goes into it and how much stress it can cause. If I may be so bold as to make a conjecture, but it sounded like you feel a bit of the same way when you mentioned how you came home one night to find the dishes still dirty and your son without a sleeping bag while your husband sat and watched TV. (I'm not attacking or putting down your husband in anyway-- I'm too often guilty of the same thing when I'm home. My dad used to make himself dinner while my mom was working and leave all the dirty dishes in the sink and go read the paper or watch TV, which is where my mom found him when she came home. It irked her to no end that it seemed my dad expected her to take care of all that after she got off her shift, but she never said anything about it until at least a year into their marriage. It was just an oversight on my father's part; the way he grew up, the dishes just weren't done right away after a meal, and weren't a huge priority. My mom grew up with consequences if any mess was not dealt with immediately. ) It seems that you, like so many other women out there, manage the house in a way that, in my opinion, only a mother can, and I'm kind of curious as to how you all do it. I know that I could never deal with so many things at once; I'm a single task person; I work on one task until it's done, then go on to the next one. For example, I once stayed up for 57 hours straight coding a program that was due in a couple days. I couldn't work on it in pieces, because it would take too long to "get back in the groove." If I got distracted even for a moment, it would be a couple hours before I could get back to useful progress. So do you do it all because you just have to; go on auto-pilot and take everything in stride, or is there a more systematic approach to bringing everything into order? I know that a huge part of a marriage and family is the love you have for them, and that that love drives you to sacrifice for the benefit of your family, but I'm just wondering how you handle it? How do you deal with it all on a personal level and keep yourself sane? Again, I don't intend to pry, and I apologize if I've gone too far here. Curiosity got the better of me.
The other reason I couldn't help but to break out of my shell and speak up is this. As a hobby, I'm an amateur magician--seriously into it only for a couple years so far. When you have a ton of things going on-- kids to entertain and keep under control, say for example, when you went to the zoo recently, 1) Would you enjoy a magic show put on by a strolling magician to either let go of reality for a moment, or just relax and enjoy the show, 2) Would you prefer the show (assuming you agreed to watch) be for you or for your kids while you simply watched, and 3) would your answers for 1 and 2 change if you were by yourself or had your husband with you? One of the things I try do to with my magic is brighten someone's day, give them something they can enjoy in what is many times a non-enjoyable day, a sense of relief. I'm curious as to how you would or wouldn't receive something like this when you have so much you need to get done and take care of. Many times a person can tell me that they enjoyed the magic, but I get a sense they felt obligated to watch and to compliment. Being as new as I am to this, with not a whole lot of experience, I find it difficult to tell who might want something like this and who may be just trying to get everyone home alive. I might see a dad and kids and think they'd appreciate a little magic in their day, when in fact, all he wants to do is keep the kids from going into tantrums, while mom is in the nearby mall getting some shopping done, and has no time to be distracted by a magician. Any insight you'd be willing to give would be greatly appreciated.
I see I've again managed to write something resembling more of a chapter of a book than a question, so I'd best quit here while you're still awake (hopefully).
Thanks, and good luck.
Baker
Baker--wow, what a long comment! To answer the gist of your question, I just do what has to be done. I let a lot of things slide. At this moment, in fact, there are dishes in my sink, which will make me sorry in the morning, but I need to use my brain for a moment before I fall asleep. I am sequential by nature, so taking care of a family is a challenge because of the constant interruptions. I do as much sequentially as I can and then I deliberately just let go and go with the flow, realizing that this stage of life is temporary. I do the next thing that must be done and try not to get distracted by everything else that clamors for my attention. The kids have to come first at this stage of life, so cleaning the carpet can wait. My mental health also matters to me more than my housekeeping.
I also refuse to let people's expecations of me--as a pastor's wife or as a Christian--dictate what I will or will not do or say. That sets me free from a lot of angst, worrying about what people think.
I think that answered your questions. Feel free to ask away more. Curiosity never killed anyone but the cat. And good luck in college.
Oh, and about the magician stuff--I would happily enjoy a strolling magician at the zoo mostly because the kids would be delighted. Whatever makes the kids happy--especially if it's free--makes me happy. It wouldn't make any difference if I were alone or with my husband, either.
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