When I was about 15, my mom and I were shopping for back-to-school clothes. Since I went to parochial school and wore a uniform, my needs were limited to socks, shoes and underwear. While standing in line for the cashier and holding my packages of Fruit-of-the-Loom briefs, I spied a rack of satin slips and camisoles. There was one set in particular that really caught my attention. To this day I can still remember the color– a peachy, pearlescent  pink with lace trim and mother-of-pearl buttons sewn down the front. I had never seen anything so dainty and elegant. All of my undergarments were plain cotton. This was so special. As one of five children to parents of very modest means, I knew better than to ask for something that we couldn’t afford and that I certainly did not need. My mother saw me admiring it and  asked me, “Would you like to have that?”

“Could I ?, ” I asked incredulously.

“Sure, I’ll get that for you.”

Mom paid for it and I left the store carrying my package that contained my first real taste of sophisticated femininity. It was during the ride home that my mother told me about an incident that happened to her when she was about my age. To understand the significance, first let me tell you a little bit of history about my mom.

My mother’s father died when she was 12.  It was a story that I had grown up hearing. He was killed in an accident at work. My grandmother, Nana, was widowed with three children at the age of 33. The year was 1934, the height of the Depression and Roosevelt had not yet instituted social security. With no income, my grandmother lost her home. She and her children had to move in with relatives. To support her family, my grandmother held down two jobs. During the weekday she worked as a seamstress in a department store in Philadelphia and on nights and weekends she took in alterations for a tailor.  She was the sole supporter of her family  because she insisted that her children stay in school and not dropout to go to work like so many of the other kids in the neighborhood. At that time, only rich people could afford to keep their kids in school. Nana had come to this country from Italy at the age of 9 and had to quit school at age 10 to care for her younger siblings when her  mother died from pneumonia. (Her father eventually remarried and Nana was raised by a wonderful stepmother. More on that later.) She always regretted not getting an education and  was determined that her three children would finish high school. ”When I look back, I don’t know how we survived.” Mom described terrible hardships no one should have to endure like coming home from school starving and there was nothing to eat except a sweet potato she had to share with her brother and sister. Or huddling in front of the kitchen stove because it was the only heat source in the house. Hunger and cold, two physical discomforts of poverty I could somehow imagine. There were days I went without eating at school because I had forgotten my lunch at home or I left my jacket on the bus and had to walk home in the cold. It wasn’t until my mother told me “The Underwear Story” that I began to comprehend the demorilization and humiliation of poverty.

To stretch her dollars, my grandmother sewed all of their clothes including their underwear, which she made from the soft burlap sack cloth that sugar and flour were sold in. “In those days, we wore bloomers and camisoles.” Mom recalled.  Since Mom wore a uniform, no one could really tell that she was poor until one day she was in the gym locker room changing out of her school uniform into her P.E. uniform when she heard some girls giggling. She wondered what they were laughing at and when she looked over at them she realized  they were pointing and snickering at her.  They were making fun of her underwear. All the girls were wearing beautiful silk and satin slips, camisoles and bloomers and they were mocking her. She was mortified. “I was so embarrassed I wanted to crawl into a hole.” Mom remembered. Swearing never to be humilated again, my mother was determined to find a way to get the money to buy herself some really nice underwear. The only money Nana ever gave Mom was for carfare to take the trolley to school on the days it rained or snowed. Mom pocketed the money and instead walked to school  until she saved  up enough to buy her own satin underwear which she wore on gym day.

My mother was a softy when it came to good underwear and so am I. When I was in my late 20’s and living in New York City I founded a lingerie company that targeted the high end market. The Underwear Story was my inspiration.

It was agreed in advance that the children would spend Christmas Eve with their other parents and arrive at our house at 11:00 am on Christmas morning. When I dropped Sophia and Eva off at their dad’s on Christmas Eve, Sophia was a little weepy. She did not want me to go. She held on for dear life and I almost had to peel her off of me (just as I did when she was a screaming toddler being dropped off at preschool). I  looked her firmly in the eyes and told her, “Daddy made you a wonderful dinner and I will see you tomorrow.” and I walked out the door. When I got back in my car I thought, ” I am tired of feeling guilty about this. We’re divorced. That’s the way it is and everyone, including Sophia, is going to have to accept it.” Then I went home to spend a romantic Christmas Eve  with my husband. We lit a fire, filled the stockings and ate a delicious dinner of shrimp scampi and crab cakes. It is a tradition on the Italian side of my family to eat fish on Christmas Eve. At the end of the evening I burst into tears. I think it was a release of tension from the holiday stress. I was also feeling a loss of innocence. The kids don’t believe in Santa anymore and there are no more doll babies under the tree. I needed a good cry to feel better. That and the sight of Paul wearing a Santa hat (and nothing else) really cheered me up.

But I digress. In spite of my fears, the kids had a blast and said this Christmas was the best ever. Paul did his part to stimulate the economy by buying the family a plasma TV for the great room.  The kids considered this a real treat and are still enjoying watching movies on it. It was joy to watch them open the gifts they had for  each other. (We had given each of the kids money so they could buy each other presents.) They really got into the spirit of giving.  My ex stayed when he dropped off the girls  and we all had brunch together.  Later in the afternoon we headed up to Paul’s sister’s house. She lives in the mountains at a higher elevation than we do and it snowed!! The kids were overjoyed at this rare treat and  ran outside to try and catch snowflakes on their tongues.

We celebrated New Year yesterday by taking the children into the city see a museum that just reopened after a five year renovation. It hails as one of the most sustainably green buildings built in the world. It has a rain forest exhibit, an aquarium and a planetarium, as well as several other exhibits. We all loved it. Afterward, Paul and I took the kids to our favorite Thai restaurant. They had never been and I wasn’t so sure they would all like the food but they really did. I think it is important to take children to fancy restaurants with linen tablecloths and lots of forks so they can learn the art of fine dining and experience diverse cuisines. I have to say I was very proud of them. There was a little bit of reaching across the table and other faux pas but Thai restaurants tend to be “family style” so I did not ride them too hard. I’m a stickler for table manners and manners in general, but in the spirit of culinary conviviality I let a lot slide. I think I may  have even double dipped once myself. When we got home the children sat at the dining room table and  played one of their new Christmas gifts, a board game called Apples to Apples. I crawled into bed with my Thai cookbooks. Now that I know that the kids like curry and coconut milk, I will definitely be experimenting with some new dishes.

Happy New Year.

Now that I’ve lived here for 16 years, I’ve adapted to and have embraced the California Christmas and Surfing Santa is one of the highlights. Last year’s Santa we bought at one of those cheezy gag gift stores at the mall and he was kind of porny looking. When he deflated, we needed to replace him and ordered a new one on-line. This one is much more realistic, complete with chest hair. When the Surfing Santa display is finished I’ll take a photo and post it.

Happy Surfing Holidays.

I took Sophia with me to the craft store on Friday and she helped me pick out wide velvet ribbons. I also got small 1-inch wide plastic rings. I cut each ribbon (we choose three different kinds) into five foot lengths. I sewed 24 rings about three inches apart  down the front of each of the ribbons. When I was finished I figured I needed to hang it from something so I used chopsticks I found at the bottom of my utensil drawer. (I’m really great with improvising. Ask me about the time I made a wholly mammoth costume on short notice out of the dog bed.) I tied thin ribbon on the end of the chopsticks to act as a hanger and the “calendars” are now hanging on the walls in our great room for Sam, Mark and Cheryl to see tomorrow morning when they get back from their mom’s. They don’t compare to Sophia and Eva’s  embroidered ones, but these were made from the heart and I know they will appreciate the thought and effort that went into making them. I can’t wait to see their faces tomorrow.

Sophia is 15 and I do not think she has ever seen a naked man before other than her father when she was very young. She was a bit embarrassed. We were incredulous because it is not everyday that you see a naked guy walking around town. I called the police to tell them. The dispatcher asked me a lot of unusual, and I believe, unnecessary questions like, “What is his race? What kind of shirt? What color hair did he have? Any facial hair? Body size? Medium? Large boned? Heavy set?” I told her, “The police should recognize him immediately because he’s the only person standing in an  empty lot and HE’S NAKED, YOU CAN’T MISS HIM.”  Sophia was able to give the dispatcher all the details like “silver hair, goatee, flannel button down shirt, medium build. ” I could not. I was too preoccupied staring at his PENIS. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like driving by a car wreck. You know you shouldn’t look, but you just can’t help yourself.

When we arrived home,  Mark and Sam were in the kitchen making hot dogs. Guess where I am going with this story. We were out of hot dog buns so I told Mark to put his wiener on a hamburger bun. It didn’t really fit and was hanging over the sides, kind of flapping over the edges.

Sophia said, “Mom, did you tell them about the naked guy?”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We were driving by that vacant lot and we saw a naked guy, ” I informed them.

Sam asked incredulously, ” Naked? Really naked?”

“Oh yes, there was no mistaking it. I still can’t get that image out of my mind. There it was for everyone to see, that very obvious and unmistakable penis and scrotum bared for the world to see,” I barely choked the words out I was laughing so hard.

“Please stop, I’m eating a hot dog.” Mark implored as he bit into his overstuffed hamburger bun with hot dog bursting over the sides.

All four of us had a good, long belly laugh. I thought later how relaxed and comfortable Sophia and the boys were making jokes about the naked guy. First of all, they all have a great sense of humor. They’d have to to live in this family. Sam recognized that Sophia was a little self-conscious about it and was less inclined to make the joke. Mark, on the other hand, showed no mercy. Sophia overcame her embarrassment and laughed along with us. Once more, I could see the benefit of my girls having brothers. They provide them with a safe haven to make jokes about something like this without any concern of it being misinterpreted or misconstrued.

Another significant turning point  was Sophia’s decision to give up her purple bookcase. Of all the kids, she had the hardest time adapting to the move. She kept that bookcase even though it didn’t fit in her new room because it reminded her of her old room. Today, out of the blue, she told me, “Mom, this bookcase doesn’t go with my room. I want to get rid of it.” I said, “OK.”  We emptied it (giving a lot of stuff to Goodwill) and  put in out on the front curb with a sign that said, “FREE”. Time heals and eveyone adapts to change eventually.  

In other news, yesterday was soccer day. All three girls had games. My two, Sophia and Eva, had back-to-back games in the morning at 9:00 and at 10:30 at the same field. Cheryl, Paul’s daughter, had a game at 1:30 at a different field. I am mentioning this because I want to comment on the differences between the kind of relationship I have with my ex-husband, an easy going, kind-hearted, happy man and Paul’s relationship with his ex-wife who often seems uncomfortable around us.  My ex met me at the soccer field  and we sat together and had nice conversation about the recent election, books we’re reading, our jobs etc. After the games were over, we all went out for bagels at our usual spot. It was always our routine, before and after our divorce, to take the girls to the bagel store.

Later, Eva and Sophia said they wanted to go to Cheryl’s game so we drove over to her game and met up with Paul who was sitting with a group of other parents from Cheryl’s team. About a half-hour into the game, Paul’s ex showed up. I saw her and said “hello”. She mumbled “hello” back and walked to the opposite end of the field where she sat alone for the rest of the game. When the game was over she hung in the background waiting for Cheryl to come off the field, hugged her goodbye and left, never saying anything to Paul or me or the other parents we were sitting with. She deliberately and purposefully alienated and excluded herself. She was more than welcome to join us and could have had fun being a part of our cheering section, but instead she chose to sit alone.  I guess that is her choice, but I wonder if she realized the  unnecessary tension that created for Cheryl. 

On that note, I am off to make banana muffins with my newly found muffin tins!!