Happy Mother's Day Mom!

My mom has always been a mysterious entity in my life. I have a confetti bag of memories to draw her portrait for you on this Mother’s Day. I remember her as a voracious reader when I was a kid. My parent’s bookshelves set a precedent for décor that I honor today and her taste in books ran from the classic to the trashy and everywhere in between (my dad really didn’t read much back then – he was working too much).

She was always fun, sometimes theatrically so.  My mom once went suddenly AWOL during my 8^th birthday party only to miss the fete’s surprise guest – a gypsy fortune teller lady who dazzled everyone with her dark magic. I remember she wore a purple taffeta skirt with an orange top and some sort of black mantilla that covered her face almost entirely. I recall a mix of gold and silver rings over elbow length velvet gloves and that she shakily held some sort of antique brooch in her hands, worrying it over and over while she read us our fortunes in a tinny, strange voice I couldn’t quite place. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. I can’t recall what the woman called herself – I know it was Mme. Something, but I remember my mother showed up again only minutes after her departure.

I also remember my mom was S.T.R.O.N.G. For example, she’s always had short hair. In my eyes, this is one of her defining characteristics-she was so strong she had short hair! I equate the gamine look with a woman who knows herself and doesn’t take a lot of crap from anyone.  Don’t believe me? Think of the women who have signature short hair – Halle Berry. Rhianna. Sharon Stone, for God’s sake. Annie Lennox. Women with short hair are not shrinking violets and nine times out of ten they are gorgeous.  I saw her cry only once. It was after at least a year of me torturing her. The stories of girls rebelling against their mothers are a dime a dozen – every girl goes through a period (usually in junior or high school) when they lock horns with the lady who brought them into this world. I was no different, though I think I had an early start with a definitely weirdish origin. My parents had bought a tiny black and white TV that my dad was ostensibly going to use in the garage when working on his “projects.” But my dad really was never that guy – he didn’t have construction projects or painting projects. So at some point during the year I turned eleven, my folks let me bring the TV into my bedroom. I started watching it every night and after about a year stumbled onto the genius that was Late Night with David Letterman. I don’t think I really even understood sarcasm until I watched Dave, but man was I a quick study. I almost immediately began trying out this material on my mom who endured my bad attitude and withering looks with the patience of Job until one day she just cracked. It’s still one of my most shameful episodes as a kid and I don’t remember the specifics (maybe I blocked them out). I just remember that I was so mean, so dismissive, such an absolute jerk to her that I made her cry. I’ll never forget the feeling of absolute panic that came over me. It straightened me right up. For the most part, I walked the straight and narrow for the rest of the time I lived under her roof. Nothing more terrifying than breaking a stoic.

I also remember an episode that happened around this same time I was testing boundaries. I came home from a friend’s house after a sleepover, just gunning to give my mom the business. This friend had one of those über cool moms and I was kind of pissed that I was missing out. My mom was NOT COOL - nothing like my friend’s mom. Jessica's mom was the kind of mom who would paint our toenails on her bed while talking about her boyfriends in one of their t-shirts and red lacy underwear. At home, I was barely allowed to wear nail polish – my mom had only recently reluctantly started to allow clear nail polish. Reluctantly! This mom could hold a cigarette and a beer in one hand while blasting Steve Miller’s “Joker” and twirling us giggling girls with her other. She smelled like Patchouli and pot and ok, a little desperation but she wore glitter on her eyes and she was glamorous to me. I just thought she was soooooo cool.

Anyway, I came home one day from a sleepover at this friend’s house to my mom rearranging something in the kitchen. She seemed to be endlessly shuffling the contents of our cupboards. She was standing on a stepladder and I was at an angle where I really only had a view of her lower half-high-waisted, navy shorts, tan legs (my mom always did rock a fantastic tan), some sort of woven leather sandal. The conversation went something like this:

Me:  Mom? (Jumping right in, not even a hello) Is it ok if I start calling you Diane?

My mom: (audible snort of laughter) Uh….no. (She continues to rummage in the cupboards, barely registering me at all, let alone my important question.)

Me:  (More sternly) Mom! The thing is that Jessica’s mom lets me call her by her first name but the REALLY cool thing is that she lets Jessica too and I don’t see WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS with that. I'm going to be in ninth grade next year and that's practically an adult. Mom? Mom! I'm TRYING to explain something to YOU. 

My mom: (Shuts cupboard firmly, steps down from stepladder, crosses arms, STEELY GLARE.) What do you think is going on here, Shannon? (Now pointing a finger at me). No. Really. What? Do? You? Think? Is? Going? On? Here? (opens arms and gestures around the cramped kitchen like she’s Evita Peron and our modest house is the Presidential Palace.)

Me: (Losing momentum fast). Uhhhhh…

My mom: Let me tell you, young lady. I am NOT your best friend. I do not want to BE your best friend. I am your MOTHER. And there is a BIG difference. (In my head she is tapping her foot testily at this point, just daring me to keep up the fight).

That’s pretty much where my dream of my mom and I picking out Village Lip Lickers together and giggling about boys died. But honestly? Though I was disappointed, I was also filled with a sneaky little wave of relief. And now that I’m a mom myself, I’m stealing that move. I want Townes and Daisy to think of me as a friendly and sympathetic, but unswayable dictator – I don’t even mind that I’m not cool. 

Joanna Goddard who blogs at A Cup Of Jo, had an intriguing idea last month – that you should interview your parents. In light of the fact that I don’t feel like I know my mom that well other than as “MY MOM”, I thought it a perfect opportunity to hit her with a Q & A so I could find some stuff out about her that she might never tell me otherwise. Here’s what she had to say. 

My mom, Diane Nancy Moore (Chavez).

Q: What was your best childhood memory?

A:  My best childhood memory was when my family had weekend barbecues in the summertime. Both my mom and dad would play outdoor ball games (softball, croquet and sometimes even "dodge ball") with us kids and any kids from the neighborhood that were around.  Also, every Sunday after Mass we would drive up to the Palos Verdes Peninsula shopping center and get ice cream.  

Q: How would you describe yourself as a child? Were you happy?

A.  I was a happy kid growing up.  I had loving parents who always made me feel cherished, special and safe.  We didn't have a lot of money but I never felt deprived or wanted for anything.  Mom always baked cakes for Valentine's Day and wrapped some little gift for my sister and me.  We always had the frilliest dresses and fluffy petticoats for Christmas and Easter.  Mom would sit with us at the dinner table and help us every day with our homework. Even if Dad was working nights we always had a great home cooked dinner, sat around and told jokes and shared the day's events.  I was the oldest and tended to be shy around people, even our relatives.  I loved to read so it was very easy to disappear outside since our back yard backed up to a large canyon (lots of bushes and trees to hide out in).

Q: What is your best memory of Grandma? Of papa?

A. My favorite memory of my Mom was coming in from school every day and finding her cooking dinner.  The house was always filled with amazing smells.  She would turn around, wipe her hands on the most colorful apron you had ever seen and grab us and hug and kiss us all around with that big beautiful smile of hers. Dad was a very hard worker. Sometimes he'd leave the house before we were even up and not come in until well after we were all in bed. I was always trying to please him.  He would say "Diane, go get a good book to read to your Uncle or Aunt So- and-So.  My favorite memory of Dad was at the yearly company picnic.  I was a true tomboy and even though I was small and skinny Dad used to pitch me baseballs.  I actually was pretty good but when it came time to pick teams the boys left me for last.  Dad actually had to take me out to the outfield because the boys just ignored me.  When it came time for me to bat the opposing team all crowded in as far as they could into the infield.  I can still hear my dad hooting and hollering when I hit the ball way over their heads.  He was pretty proud of his Mighty Mouse that day!!!  I miss him every day.

Q: Do you have any favorite stories about Erin or me?

A. My favorite story of you was when you were about 4 years old.  Your dad and I had gone bike riding and you were sitting behind dad in your child's seat.  We were all the way down at the end of the canal in Long Beach (about an hour from home)  Somehow your little foot slipped off the foot rest and you sliced the hell out of your heel. You, of course, cried and we wrapped your foot up and pedaled like crazy to get you home. I can still see your little face trying to be so brave. Not a whimper.  I was trying my best to distract you by singing "Joy to the World." “Jeremiah was a bullfrog...was a good friend of mine" (you loved singing this song sometimes throwing in a yodel or two). Finally got you home and we drove to Dr. Stambuk's office.  You dozed off in my arms. What a warrior, kiddo. 

I loved listening to you giggle whenever Lucy Ricardo got  hung up on the ballet barre, slurred her words doing the Vitaminavegmin commercial and stuffed her mouth with chocolate bon bons moving down the conveyor belt. I never tired of listening to you giggle. Your first dance recital was "Spoonful of Sugar" with your little arms over your head in that royal blue tutu and your curly head bobbing up and down. Not necessarily in time to the music but prancing your little heart out and having a ball. 

Erin was ever the mimic. I would catch her watching you throw popcorn in your mouth.  What a mess. She would have popcorn in her hair and all over the inside of the car. She was the "mama's girl.” I don't think she even started speaking until she was almost 3 years old. She was happiest playing with you.  

Q: How has being a parent changed you?

A: I truly believe my life would have been soooo............ boring had I not had you two.  I really didn't want to get married.  I was working and hanging out with my girlfriends having a lot of fun.  I had dated but no one special until I met your Dad.  When I got pregnant no one really tells you what to expect or prepares you for how this little life will forever change your life. Then it becomes all about watching little eyes light up when you discover something new and different.  Going to the library a couple of times a week, walking in the rain, reading bedtime stories and having conversations about your make believe friends Lucy Caducy and Shia.  

Q: What were the hardest memories you had when I was growing up?

A: Hardest and saddest memories-hmmmmmm................that's a tough one.  Maybe watching you grow up overnight. I really missed your company.

Q: How has your life been different than you imagined?

A: I never really had any great aspirations.  My closest friends were going to Long Beach State......I thought OK I'll give the books another try.  The only classes I really enjoyed were history and archeology.  I often thought about digs in very remote places and finding some ancient city. 

Q: If you could do everything over with me and Erin, is there anything you would do differently?

 A: As far as doing anything different with either of you, I would definitely ask more questions. "How are you doing? How's your life? Who are you hanging out with or who are you in love with? What do you want to do with your life?  I will always regret that I didn't talk more with you both about everything.  I was so worried that I would become one of those meddling and nosy moms wanting to be involved in her kids’ lives. So of course I go totally the other way thinking I am giving you both your space. I will always regret that I wasn't there and you lost your mom during those very important years. Stepping away I missed a big chunk of your lives. It's tough when I think back and you had a missing in action mom.  I missed so much simply because I never asked. I should have told you how much you both meant to me and how much I loved you both.

Q: What advice would you give me about raising Daisy and Townes?

A: Kiss them every morning and when you tuck them in at night.  Tell them how much you love then every day!!!!!!

There wasn’t anything super surprising to me in her answers. I think it’s interesting that my mom regrets not being a bigger part of our lives. I will say that I didn’t always feel that she was interested in what I was doing, whereas from her perspective she was just trying to give us space. I loved hearing about her personal stories. It’s a tricky business this parenting gig.

The one thing that kind of made me a little sad about her interview is that she prefaced it by saying “I’m really pretty boring.” Mom is a lot of things, but I would never say that boring is one of them. To wit, in true Letterman style – here are the Top 10 Interesting Facts About Diane Moore (from the perspective of her oldest and crankiest daughter):

10. When she turned 50, my mom got a tattoo on her instep but didn’t tell anyone or take anyone with her to the tattoo shop. She let us each find out on our own.

9. She smoked a hand-rolled cigar on a private farm in the town of Viñales in Cuba.

8. The trip to Mexico City and Cuba with me was her first   ever international trip.

7.  She still doesn’t own a cell phone.

6.  She was the girl in her high school class that was most photographed in the yearbook (I would list all of the honors and accolades but just imagine Student Council, Cheerleading, drama, sports, accordion, etc.). Kind of the 60’s version of Clare from the Breakfast Club.

5.  When everyone around me was settling down and getting married in my late 20’s, my mom encouraged me to stay single and travel.

4.  She collected vinyl for many years.

3.  She was President of the PTA, taught dance and was recess monitor at various times in my elementary school career.

2.  She ate pot brownies in her 60s.

1.  She is an amazing grandmother. We call her the Pied Piper. The kids cannot get enough of her.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I love you very much!

  

Comments

[Jill]

What a wonderful way to honor your mom. Your post today has brought me to tears (in a good way). Your mother sounds incredible, and as they say, the apple does not fall far from the tree. Enjoy your Mother's Day.