Identifying as Exhausted -- From Charlie's Diary

Well, Michele is back home, supposedly nursing her broken heart and trying to patch things up with Wendy, who now wonders if Michele wasn't the innocent victim of all those women who were after her.

Emily is taking a break from looking for love because she's exhausted from it. She's thinking about joining the choir at Epiphany, since she'll be available every Sunday morning.

Alice will be starting a new job, but it's at a college just a few miles from here and she's keeping her apartment. We're going to miss her, but maybe it's the best thing for her and Emily. We had lunch, but it wasn't to get closure because nothing is closing. I asked her if she was going to be gay or straight at the new school, and she said she wasn't going to be anything unless someone came right out and asked her. Then she might say, “Whatever” or “You tell me and then we'll both know.”

I asked her what she identified as, and she said she was too busy and too tired to identify with anything. I wonder how many people are going to take her to lunch to find out.

School is starting soon and we have to go shopping. Soccer practice has already begun, and I am co-chair of the Fall Festival at church.  Not to mention the election, which I try not to do in order to keep my sanity.

Karen and Nikki and I are planning to get really drunk this Friday

A McDonalds Memory -- It's that time again!

So now it's time for Back to School, the unofficial holiday between the Fourth of July and Halloween. There are paper leaves and cardboard school bells and apples all over the stores and back to school ads on TV, with kids dancing and singing as if new clothes and backpacks made up for losing their freedom.  They do help, of course.

I got Ed to take care of Josh; I knew he would get everything done quickly and efficiently.  So we went in separate cars, a jolly caravan of consumers.

Shopping with two girls is one of those experiences that “challenge you to grow,” as my mother used to say when I complained about having to do something.  I tell the children to “offer it up.”  And I was given a lot to offer.

Cilla and her friends have decided that “if it isn’t pink, they’re not wearing it.”  And on the first day, everything had to be totally pink.  After that they would condescend to wear contrasting pants or skirts.

Betsey told me I was “spoiling her” and looked superior until I reminded her of the year she and her friends wore purple all day every day; even their pajamas had to be purple.

I shouldn’t have said anything because Cilla decided that she needed pink pajamas and wanted to call her friends right now, please, please, please so they could get some too.

I told her we would get the pajamas now, but she’d have to wait until we got home to call her friends.

Betsey was a little easier, since she doesn’t have a bust or interest in boys yet.  She needed five pairs of jeans, a variety of tops, some with sayings I didn’t understand, but which she assured me weren’t naughty, and some sweaters for me to nag her to take with her, even if she didn’t wear them, because it could get chilly.

All around us mothers were squabbling with daughters and exchanging eye rolls.  It was nice to have a sisterhood moment.

The girls wanted to stop at McDonald’s to celebrate their haul, but I told them that it wouldn’t be fair to Daddy and Josh, but we’d have pizza tonight.

On the way out of the mall, we stopped at the bulk candy store for the first candy corn and pumpkins of the season.

I said a prayer of thanksgiving that the girls didn’t see the McDonald’s wrappers in the trash when we got home.  Fortunately, Josh forgot to wave his Happy Meal monster in their faces.

Sometimes you get a break.

Back on the Horses! And a Recipe!

We're kind of worried about Emily. We don’t think that she’s still hanging out with Alice because she is hoping to change her mind; Emily once told me that trying to convince someone to switch sexual preference is like trying to get them to like broccoli instead of candy.

The problem is that Emily doesn’t want to get back on the horse. No offense to Alice, but if Emily wants to have a relationship, any time she spends with her, she could use to be out looking for someone else.

I just hope Ed doesn’t die before I do. I really don’t want to have get on another horse.

I asked Ed if he would get married again if I died.

“Certainly not.”

“But you’d need someone to take care of you. And the kids.”

“They have three grandmothers.”

“If I died, the women would be bringing casseroles over before you could say knife. All those single mothers.”

“Oh, you think so?” Ed looked kind of pleased.

I just hope no one brings tuna, green bean and mushroom soup casserole. The kids love it, but Ed only likes the potato chips.

“Of course. But the kids would give anyone a hard time. I appreciate their loyalty, but I don’t want them to be rude. Your girlfriends would think I hadn’t raised them right.”

“Charlie. You’re not going to sit the kids down and give them a talk on being polite to my dates.”

“Of course not. When the time comes, you can do it. Or I can get them to promise me when I’m on my deathbed.” If I have to go, I hope I get the chance. I could just see their little faces, or even middle-aged faces. At the funeral, they’d tell everyone how noble I’d been.

I really don’t think I’d get married or even date if Ed went first. It’s too much trouble.

“Can we go to sleep now? This whole conversation is creeping me out.”

I wanted to ask him why, but I didn’t have the nerve. I like to think he couldn’t bear to imagine life without me. Not to mention being a single dad. 

Single Dad Get Acquainted Casserole

Ingredients

• 12 ounces medium egg noodles, cooked and drained
• 2 cups cooked green peas or 1 can of green beans
• 2 cans condensed cream of mushroom soup
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1 1/2 cups sharp Cheddar cheese
• 2 cans (approx. 6 ounces each) tuna, drained and flaked
• salt and pepper, to taste
• 1/2 to 1 cup crushed potato chips
• 1 tablespoon melted butter

• Prep Time: 20 minutes
• Cook Time: 20 minutes
• Total Time: 40 minutes
• Yield: 6 Servings

Preparation

• Heat oven to 350°. Grease a 2 1/2 to 3-quart casserole dish.
• Combine the noodles, peas, soup, milk, cheese, and tuna. Add salt and pepper, to taste. Spoon into the prepared baking dish.
•  Crush potato chips and sprinkle over the top.
• Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until hot and bubbly. p

Serves 6.

From About Food

http://southernfood.about.com/od/tunacasserolerecipes/r/r90110b.htm

We'll Always Have Facebook

It turns out that I won't have to worry about running into Michele. She's going home this weekend. I was afraid Emily might have thrown her out over a misunderstanding. (When I mentioned this, Karen said, “Oh, Charlie, grow up!”)

But that wasn't the reason. Wendy had called her and begged her to come back. When Michele left, Wendy took over leading the group. And these women started hitting on her, or worse, calling her to talk about their problems. Wendy said that maybe she'd been too hard on Michele.  Maybe she wasn't the force of nature; all those women were. Emily's comment was “Michele strikes again.  No matter what, she always comes out looking good."

Now everyone is asking me how I feel. I say, “I'll miss her, of course, but it's probably for the best. And we're Facebook friends.”

Karen thought I should have a final lunch with Michele, so I could have closure.

Nikki snorted. “Nobody wants closure. They want the crummy thing not to have happened. If you think closure will make you feel better, you'll feel even worse when it doesn't.”

“I don't need to feel better,” I said. “I'm fine.”

Karen and Nikki looked at each other. “Denial.” Karen said. Nikki nodded.

“Remember we're here for you.”

I appreciated that, but I didn't see why I would need them.

Michele did call to say goodbye, but I was taking Duke to the vet for his checkup and had my phone turned off. She left a message and I called her back, but she didn't answer. She sent me an ecard she'd designed with a picture of the library and a note saying she'd really enjoyed knowing me and she wished me “the best of everything.” When I showed it to Alice, she looked disgusted. “It's like what she really wanted to say was 'Have a nice life, Bitch, and think of what you missed.'”

“Oh, Alice. She's not like that.”

“Well, you never know what somebody's like when you've broken their heart.”

I didn't know if I should feel guilty for breaking Michele's heart. I did feel guilty for feeling a little pleased.

“And don't feel guilty about it. Karma finally caught up with her,” Alice said as if she could read my mind.

“Ok,” I said. I didn't know what else to say.

Later Emily told me that Wendy had told her that Michele seemed a little subdued when she back and I had become famous as the woman who could resist Michele.

I wondered if I was now part of the legend. Emily said that I was now a legend myself.

Reflections in the Carpool -- A McDonald's Memory

Summer is supposed to be relaxing, but maybe that’s just a euphemism for “boring.”  That’s what I tell myself anyway. 

The kids go to various day camps  -- drama (Cilla),  music (Betsey), baseball (Josh), soccer and computer, (everyone) and In May we start shopping for the different camping gear.  (They send us lists.)

This year, Betsey wanted to go to overnight horseback riding camp.  I thought it would be a good idea, since there would be two weeks when we only had two kids to arrange carpools for.  But I felt funny.

Nikki said I was turning into one of those mothers who don’t want their kids to be independent. 

“Well, it’s just that she’s going away to camp now for two weeks and one day she’ll be going away to college for four years and then she’ll have her own apartment and maybe get a job somewhere else so she won’t even be home for vacations.”

“Maybe she’ll go to graduate school.”  Karen tried to be helpful.  “That’s at least two more years and maybe she’ll get a Ph.D.  And maybe she’ll get a degree in English or archeology or something like that and she’ll have to live at home.  At least between digs.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.  I must have looked upset, because Karen added, “But she’ll be able to write and then she’ll get something if she publishes.”

“Or she could write a novel that would make a lot of money.”

I don’t know which was worse, having an unemployed or underemployed daughter around the house or having her off someplace across the country.

“And Josh will go to college and Cilla will go to college and then they’ll get jobs miles away and then they’ll get married and Ed and I will be old.”

“You’ll never get old, Charlie.”

But I had started Karen off,  “I just know the boys will marry some awful girls who will call me ‘Mother” until they have kids and then they will not only refer to me as ‘Grandma’ or ‘Mom Mom’ or whatever they pick, but will call me that even when they’re talking to me and the kids aren’t around.”

“You should get to pick.  Don’t take any guff.”

“One thing, when the boys get engaged, I’m going to tell those girls to call me ‘Karen.’  I still don’t know what to call Tom’s mother.  So I don’t call her anything,”

“Helmut is going to want the grandchildren to call us ‘Oma’ and ‘Opa.’”

“That’s exotic.” I said.  “You can get them little dirndls and lederhosen.”

“You do realize, don’t you, that grandchildren will mean our children had sex?”

I had been trying not to.

Intervention -- And a Recipe!

When I walked into  Karen's living room for Girls' Night, not only were Karen, Nikki, Emily and Alice there, but so were Janet, Kate and Missy. My birthday was months away, so it couldn't have been a surprise party, unless they wanted to make it a real surprise.

"Sit down, Charlie," Karen said. "We have to talk." Everyone was sitting in a circle looking looking very serious.

"Okay," I said. There weren't any chairs available, and I was about to sit on the floor, but Karen went in the kitchen and got a bar stool from the counter.

"Jesus, Karen," Nikki said, "Didn't you count? She can't sit on that." Saying Jesus in front of a priest wouldn't bother Nikki.

Karen got flustered. "Of course she can't. She can have my chair." It's a bad sign when people start talking about you as if you weren't there.

I thought I'd let them know I was. "What's going on? "

Janet looked at Kate. "I told you she wouldn't get it."

Kate opened her purse and gave Janet a five dollar bill. She looked a little sheepish. "We had a bet."

"Jesus, Kate," Nikki sighed.

"Sorry, Kate," I said. "She doesn't go to church. She never even went to Sunday School."

"Charlie," Janet said, "She's heard a lot worse." It seemed as if nobody had a name anymore or they had disappeared.

"Okay," Karen said, "Let's get back on track. Charlie, this is an intervention."

Did they think I was an alcoholic? I really only drink on Girls' Night. Had I been blacking out and not remembering?

"We're here because we love you and we don't want to see you ruin your life."

What had I done?

"Charlie," Emily said, "You have to give her up."

"Give who up?"

"It's all right, Charlie," Kate said. "Everyone makes makes bad decisions, especially when they're unhappy."

Janet looked huffy. "What has she got to be unhappy about? She's married to my son."

Alice weighed in, "You never know what goes on in someone else's house."

"And she has three beautiful children."

I thought I'd better speak up. "Give who up?" I asked again.

Emily patted my hand. "Don't be embarrassed. These things happen. She's a force of nature."

"Who's a force of nature?"

Emily looked exasperated. “Michele. She started going after you as soon as she met you. She talked abou you for two hours that night. Maybe she didn't realize it."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Emily?"

Maybe I shouldn't have been pleased, but I was. "What did she say?"

"That's not the point. The point is that she'll just break your heart."

"Not to mention Ed's and the children's," Missy added.

"She told me about what happened in the library."

"Nothing happened. We went up to the fourth floor and looked out the window."

"OK, Charlie." Emily sounded like she didn't believe me.

Then I understood. I couldn't believe it.

"Do you think Michele and I . . . hooked up?"

"Well . . . "

"I would never do that. I'm married."

"I know several women who thought they would never."

"Michele is nice, but she looks like Joyce Carol Oates." I was glad Ms. Oates wasn't in the room. I 'd hate to hurt her feelings.

"So you haven't . . ."

"No."

"What if you were single?" Karen asked. "And she didn't look like Joyce Carol Oates?"

"Karen, don't put ideas in her head."

"I'm just curious."

"You know," Missy said, "I brought two of my pineapple upside down cakes and I can't wait for you to try them. The cake is from a box, but it's organic."

"That sounds delicious," Kate said. "Why don't we all go get some coffee or a nice cup of tea?"

"I have wine," Karen said. Then everybody seemed to think the intervention had worked or they were frustrated or bored.

Kate took me aside. "How did you feel about all this?"

I shrugged. "It's kind of funny really."

I do wonder what Michele said about me after our dinner.

Missy's Pineapple Upside Cake

1 stick of butter

1 cup packed brown sugar

1 20 ounce can crushed pineapple, drained or 1 20 ounce can sliced pineapple, drained

maraschino cherries

1 box butter cake mix

Heat over to 350 degrees.

Prepare cake batter according to the instructions on the box.

Melt butter in a 13 X 9 X 2 pan in the oven.

Sprinkle brown sugar over the butter. Put in pineapple and cherries

Bake according to directions on the box.

Happy Birthday, Dear Charlotte!

 

April 21 is the birthday of Charlotte Bronte, one of the three sisters from whom Charlie McDonald got her three names.


From "Aunt Pooh Channels Nelly Dean", December 19, 2013:


In those days,” Aunt Pooh continued, “they didn’t have ultrasounds like they do now.  Your mother told me she was really hoping you’d be a girl.  She said she was only going to have one child, so he or she would be spared having older siblings bossing them or younger ones getting away with stuff they couldn’t and would never have to worry whether she and their father liked the others better.”

“Classic middle child,” Karen said.

“Exactly.  And she was the only scientist in a family of artsies.  My father taught English and my mother painted.  My brother is a music teacher.  He was never into books that much; I guess that’s why he agreed to give the children those names.*  That upset my mother more than Louie’s getting pregnant with a married man.” 

“It probably made her feel excluded.”  Karen and Nikki were in their element, practicing amateur analysis.

“Why, I never thought of that, but I bet that’s true.  She didn’t like to be out of the loop.  But, of course, she didn’t interfere, although she complained to Louie and me.  ‘Those children are going to feel like outcasts in the family,’ was how she put it.  She blamed him more than Judy.  Judy and her brothers and sisters were the five J's. ”

“But didn’t Charlie’s mother read?  After all she named her after the Brontes.”

“Well, that was my idea.  She wanted to name Charlie after our mother, but her name was Alice (Alice in Wonderland, you know) and your father’s first wife’s name was Alicia.  Actually, I wanted Emily Charlotte Anne, since Emily was really the better writer, but she liked Charlotte -- the name, I mean.  She probably hadn’t even seen the movies, since we didn’t have Netflix then.” 

*Most of the children in my mother's family were given names taken from literature, but Uncle Hank's children are Jessica, Jason, and Jennifer.  Uncle Hank's name is Henry James;  Aunt Judy wanted him to start calling himself H. James, but he wouldn't do it.

For more background, see "Cast of Characters". February 27, 2015.