Mother's Day 1986
Here’s to the memories. All the laughter, tears, happiness, and sorrow that we as your children have experienced with you right beside us every step of the way, making sure we didn’t stray off the path. Thanks, Mommy, for who would we be without you.
Love, Emma
Emma gave me a small book of family photos with this inscribed on the back cover. She was just 13. I carried it around in my bag for at least 3 years, so I could read it every time I felt like murdering her. Her eloquence was only matched by her --what word can I use-- spawn-of-Satanhood?
When she was 6, her first grade teacher said, "Emma knows exactly where my limits and she will go right to the brink, but never cross over." She didn't show such diplomacy with her mother. However, when she worked around the world in her 20's, she never had to bribe anyone at airports. After her first trip to Africa, she got several letters from cabdrivers addressed to "my angel Emma."
Emma repeatedly stuck her tongue out at me minutes after birth. If you look carefully at this picture of her at 17 months (the day I got pregnant with her sister Michelle), you will see the signs of oppositional defiant disorder. She should have been born with a printout: "You will win five battles with this child. Choose them carefully." I learned what the five battles were by losing hundreds of others. At the height of our teenage struggles, Emma used to say: "I don't have sex, don't do drugs, don't drink, don't party at all hours. I am not pregnant; I do well in school; I plan a serious career in world saving. What is your problem, mom?" Of course she was right, and that's why her sisters seemed easier. I didn't fight the silly battles.
But it was all worth it. Watching her mother my grandson gives me absolute joy. Despite our arguments, we have always been extremely close. As usual, my writer Jane says it best (2001):
"Emma is capable of more generosity than anyone I know. She holds herself responsible for you, Michelle, Molly, and me. Being incredibly brave as well as generous, though, she doesn't stop there; she is now going to try to save some people in Africa (Rwanda) too, or at least to learn how. She did more than anyone to keep you going through the years when Daddy had left and Grandma was getting sicker and Peter wasn't ready yet."
Emma deserves her 1986 tribute to me more than I do: " Thanks, Emma, for who would I be without you?"
I feel like forwarding this post to every mother I know who is going through a rough time with their teenaged daughter. She sounds like a great person.
ReplyDeleteMy Vanessa stories have always been a great comfort to other mothers of challenging daughters. At 2 she was the terror of the Upper West Side and Chelsea because she pulled hair and dumped sand over her playmates' head. Her main victim is her best friend; in fact Erin lives in the next building. Because Vanessa was such a sparkplug, no kid avoided her. The hairpulling and sand dumping was often an experiment in determining the limits of her victims' mothers. Sporadically, I contemplated paying another kid to retaliate. When Vanessa was a teenager, Erin's mother confessed she expected Vanessa to be in jail at age 16.
ReplyDeleteHeh, she sounds like she was an exciting kid - and also, I have such PLACID children! I have read that deeply challenging children often grow up to be the most passionate and compassionate adults, and it certainly sounds true in her case.
ReplyDelete(by the way, I do have an email address listed on my blog - beckfrogandtoad at gmail.com)
Beck,
ReplyDeleteMy placid children were no less challenging. For years I considered Elizabeth, my second daughter, much easier, But she had carefully observed Vanessa and realized charm works much better than confrontation. When asking for something, she would preface it with compliments and appreciation. I would be eager to do what she asked.
Elizabeth was almost grown before I realized that she had gotten her way much more than Vanessa had. She is the ultimate iron fist in a velvet glove. I was in awe how she handled doctors and nurses whenever my mom was hospitalized. Both Andy and I have named Elizabeth to be our health proxy.
Once, when her dad and I were squabbling, Elizabeth suggested, "Mom, you should wear more perfume."
I love your blog title. I must have read aloud the Frog and Toad books a thousand times. I have already started reading them to Nate.