I just did something secretly catty, and I feel very good about it. The mother of a long-ago childhood playmate whom I fondly but barely remember contacted me out of the blue. Not sure how she found me, but I have a very unusual name, so Google's likely to blame.
She asked me for my mom's email and inquired as to what I'd been up to all this time: Wow, looks like you've traveled the world! And you're a musician, how wonderful! Very sweet. Whatever. And--you know what's coming--she let me know that both of her children had a few children of their own. That's fine, of course, people do that and I'm happy for them. Yet I was simultaneously annoyed: That was all she told me about them--their genealogy. What? Do I look like a librarian at Brigham Young University or something? Have they just been lounging around, reproducing all these years? I'm sure something else interesting has happened to your daughter outside the maternity ward.
Anyway, snark aside, I responded kindly, let her know how to find my parents, and told her a bit about myself, which of course, did not include a kid list. About an hour later, I get an email from her daughter, my vaguely recalled playmate of yore, saying something to the effect that she's rushing off to her child's first school play but in the meanwhile here's a link to some pictures, promise to write more later. Which I sincerely hope she does, and I hope her writings include more than a bunch of drivel drooled from Mommyland.
Now, here's where the catwoman in me sprung into action. I not only pressed delete without clicking through to a single damn image, but purged (that's how university webmail refers to it) my deleted messages. Like hell I'm going to look at your children, total strangers to me without any context.
Ah! What a relief. I feel tons better already.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
12 comments:
Hee. I love the word "purge"
I support your cattiness. Catiness? Cattyness? Catiosity, perhaps. I always feel sort of sad for the people who can't do anything but talk about their children, as if they themselves have no inherent value and can only find validation in this world through their spawn. Then I always stop and wonder if I would turn into one of those people. I sure as hell hope not.
I'm proud you took the high road on this, and she was probably secretly jealous that you are so much more accomplished and interesting than her daughter, who has apparently done nothing but had unprotected sex.
You know, I'm sure, that most likely the mother was intimidated by all you have accomplished, and all she had to say about her daughter is that she has reproduced a few times.
That doesn't make it any easier, though, I know. I'm always so surprised to realize how insensitive people are- until I realize that if you haven't been through it (or know someone who has), you really have no idea how much those type of emails HURT. Especially when there is a hint of jealousy or "rubbing it in" or competition or whatever it is- maybe it's not even there, but that is what we sense on our infertility radars- at least I do.
Anyways, I'm glad you deleted those pictures. What good does it do to look at them, right?? It's not catty, it's self-protection!!
Funny what we will do to feel like we have just a LITTLE of control in our lives. Good for you.
I so would have done the same thing. How presumptuous that you want to see someone else's children!
I am always in support of the delete key when it comes to these annoying emails! Why bother, especially when it's someone not even close to you. Protect, protect, protect!!!
not catty at all. too bad you couldn't kick her in the shin and walk away (at least that's what i would like to do if it were me!).
(trigs here, but not what you'd think)
Being a mother, sharing pictures is something we ~do~. BUT ... I'm very proud of the fact is does NOT define me. When my parents talk about me, there is a myriad of exciting things to talk about besides something that came out of a hole in my body covered in goo. I am a derby girl! I got a promotion! I fly out to Boston on business on a regular basis! I threw a surprise 50th anniversary party to end all parties for my parents!
I would hope my mom and dad, still being doting grandparents, wouldn't ignore my entire life when bragging about me. And in regards to pictures - I ~never~ send out links to them unless I'm asked. I have a website, yes. I have a blog about them, yes. But it's all completely voluntary. I don't send out emails directing people to them. Nor do I carry around a photo album to thrust into someone's face during lunch.
Maybe your childhood friend is just as boring as she used to be. Hell, you can barely remember her - there must be a reason for that. Maybe having kids is ALL she has. Completely defined by it. Kinda sad, don't you think?
(see? it's kinda nice to realize someone from whom people would just assume you'd be jealous of - you actually simply pity them.)
Fabulous. "Did I get your e-mail? What e-mail? Funny, your mom's came through, but my computer must have rejected yours. Maybe it decided your pictures were 'junk'?"
Now that I'm firmly entrenched in the IF world, it seems so obvious to me that such things are insensitive. But I do remember the old me (the naive, innocent, "when I have kids" me) and what it was like to be a part of the blindly fertile world. Because, of course, you're fertile until proven otherwise, with no idea you aren't one of them until you start TTC.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that people in the fertile world really have NO IDEA that talking about children causes other people pain. NO CLUE. Children are the universal symbol of happiness, not a source of pain. We infertiles are the most closeted group of people in the universe. The rest of the world doesn't know we exist, and certainly doesn't know how to treat us.
It's sad and lonely. Thank god for the blogosphere!
ugh. good for you. delete never felt so good. purge indeed. people can be so annoying. ~luna
Ok... that was fun to read. I decided to have a christmas gathering for old school chums of mine this year. They, of course, brought their kids. I'm happy for them, of course, but part of me wanted to get catty as they talked about nothing but their offspring. It was like they had their own club and I was the oddball. I say talk about your kids only when asked.
Bravo!
Similar experiences here. I've had an incredible set of life experience but everyone seems more taken with the women who've had babies.
Post a Comment