Oh my!

Oh my – it has been a day then. I was with my male friend Jim last night (part of the reason I stayed over was because my 19-yar-old, self-professed “soon to be daughter-in-law” had managed to once again alienate me from my own home). Anyway, while I was with Jim, I realized that there are a few things that go fundamentally un-noticed and, therefore, not discussed in our post-modern romantic lives. One of these things is the ability to assert ourselves. Assertion seems to always carry with it some level of self-importance. Somehow – we as a culture – have decided that to assert one’s will is to gain control and/or relinquish another’s authority over a situation. I do not believe it is that simple. You see, I love my son(s) – and that means all of you – adopted, biological, fig newtons of my imagination – ALL OF YOU!
I respect your choices. I do not, however, need to love your loves with the undying emotional gratitude you feign in order to not fall out of favor and perhaps miss a night of “L’Amour”.

I expect respect; from employers, from politicians, from lovers, and from the clerk at the grocery store (to say I expect it from the clerk at the counter of some shi shi salon would be overstepping my bounds). Therefore, why should I not expect respect from the betrothed of my beloved own flesh of my loins?

I will try to surmise what might be contributing factors but would welcome any and all unsolicited (well I guess I am soliciting now am I not) feedback.

S (let’s just call her that) is my son’s fiancée. She has taken to the ugly habit of telling my eldest biological heir the things she finds as faults in me. Bad dilemma – no one wins.

My response is simple:

S. no longer gets to “camp out” here (engaged son and I share a domicile) when her betrothed is not around. Why? Simple, you don’t like me – and have enough respect for me to tell me to my face – you are not a welcome recipient of my grand benevolence. In other words… deal straight or get out of the game.

Further, no more phone calls from son 1 (the engaged) telling me that he is having S. over for dinner and what are my plans. I retreated, which I vow to never do again. This is my home and I will not relinquish my home to someone who may (or may not) have the staying power to become a bigger part of my world.

Respect, you see, always begins, in the same place. That place is the acknowledgement of dignity and an appreciation of what has gone before. I remember at 19 thinking I had my shit all straightened out….. Man! Was I wrong!

I was made a manager of a great workforce by age 28 (what I have to say about that is huge. Suffice it to say in this entry that management before the age of 30 is a recipe for disaster – INDUSTRY WIDE)!

I have influenced political agenda(s) and have balanced budget(s) (my own withstanding – a work in progress).

I have chatted with the rich and famous as well as those who call the street their home.

I have learned one thing about us all – the whole race (human that is)

We all strive to have a voice, a legacy, a mark.

I believe that is the motivation of a young woman when she swoops into a home and tries to create discord amongst its members. I believe it is what motivates the president of the free world to swoop into a foreign land (under the declaration of protecting freedom) and impose values that are not congruent with years of (their) civilization. And, most importantly, I believe it is what causes some to hang on to archaic religious/moral codes that belonged to their father’s father’s father. Some things deserve to be challenged. Some things are in need of great change. And some things need to be accepted as being the “phase” they are.

S. – I have no doubt that if you and my baby do actually tie the knot, we will work through our differences. Until that day occurs – consider yourself someone who is a “guest” in our home. Live and behave accordingly and we will have no issue. Dis me to another family member and we will have words. Do it a second time and we will need to really put the blood/water theory to the test. Which one do you think is thicker?

I wonder.

That’s all for now muffins.

Sleep Tight!

Margie