Your Alice.com order has arrived July 19, 2009
Posted by erinfrances in It's how we roll.Tags: motherhood
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Our reunion wasn’t exactly the stuff of movies or Hallmark cards, unless the movie is “I Hate My Mother” or “DIE STRANGER DIE,” and the card has “Sorry I Don’t Recognize You” engraved over a scene of a mother in Bob Evans looking really rejected.
My mother and stepfather spent every waking moment telling my sweet Baby Alice about unicorns, rainbows and how much Mommy sucks, so when we walked into the restaurant in Merrillville, Ind., Saturday after a week apart from our dearest daughter, she gave us the expression that read “Just TRY to pick me up. Try it. Dare ya.”
“Maybe it’s your haircut,” my mom tried. Yeah. But maybe she just hates me.
Riding back to Oshkosh was probably like a benevolent kidnapping. She was calm and reserved, but I wasn’t allowed to touch the one who gave me these hot, sexy violet marks on my belly.
At home, she didn’t want to see Big. She didn’t want to eat dinner if I was looking at her. She didn’t want me to pick her up. She didn’t want to take a bath, or be rocked, or be read to, or kissed or hugged or breathed on or thought about or talked about.
Her pathetic little wussy hand flails and her whine told me no. “No, Erin. If that’s your real name.”
So, in conclusion, my lovable daughter who a week ago wanted only me now only wants Gramma. Which is problematic, as Gramma lives eight hours away.
“Don’t take it personally,” I told myself. But my wounded pride says “Damn you, Gramma. Damn you.”
(Alice.com is a real Web site. One of those cheaper toothpaste-to-your-door-with-free-shipping deals.)
I’m sorry that your reunion has been sucky. Has she gotten any better now that she’s been back in your care for 24 hours? Bummer, I feel sad for you. I know my heart would be breaking.
Love the Alice.com picture. That’s so cute!