Bras, Condoms and a Drive in the Country

22 Mar

In the past week, I went for a drive, shopped for extra-large condoms and bought a training bra, all in the name of helping others. Before you picture me doing favors for unfortunate strangers though, I should note that these were not random acts of kindness. Each of the others I helped is intimately related to me.

From the time I became a mother, helping others has been a primary focus of my life. Admittedly, it isn’t always easy. Sometimes I’ve even resented it. Babies can’t feed themselves, change their own diapers, move themselves from place to place. And they can’t control when they need any of those things done. They don’t care if you haven’t slept more than two hours at a time since they were born. They need what they need when they need it and, if you’re any kind of decent parent, you help them get it.

Aging parents are, indeed, like children. Right now, my dad needs help moving from place to place, dealing with toileting and even feeding himself. The difference between caring for him and caring for my babies? Dad does care about who’s caring for him. He knows it’s tough and apologizes regularly. I sometimes wish he wouldn’t, but in the middle of a night where he’s gotten up three or four times convinced he needs to get ready for a meeting with an architect, it helps.

Being cute is a baby’s way of making its care less onerous. Dad has a sense of humor and even when he’s not trying, provides ample amusement. He can’t seem to remember his surgeon’s name, so calls him everything from Dr. Ballerina to Dr. Bubbalongname. The doctor’s name is Billimoria, but Dad’s names for him make me laugh, so I call him Bubbalongname, too.

Amusing Dad is far more difficult for me than caring for him. He doesn’t read, can’t really walk far, favors watching golf over cooking shows and doesn’t want to learn how to knit. I haven’t lived in my hometown for more than thirty years; I have no idea what to do there anymore. Neither does Dad.

There is one thing Dad has always loved to do though: go for a drive. Since I was a child, Dad’s been driving. Vacations were spent driving from Illinois to Florida, a two-day trip that Dad relished. I realize now that the drive was probably the most enjoyable part for Dad and not just for the thrill of making good time.

Dad loves driving for the process, not the destination. He doesn’t care where he’s going, as long as he’s going. I am goal driven; I hate the process. At the end of a long drive, there better be something worth my while because I’ve just spent a good deal of precious time doing nothing. So, getting in the car and having Dad say, “Drive out Route 14,” then promptly fall asleep is my idea of hell. Still, I get on 14 and drive, passing numerous turnoffs that look to offer promising destinations. Dad needs help satisfying his wanderlust and I provide it.

Helping my son has become complicated and conflict-ridden. This brings us to the condoms. Sometime ago, I bought my son a box of condoms, intending that he would check them out in order to be familiar with them when the time—preferably far, far in the future—came. There were three. He took one to school, put it (wrapped) in a friend’s sandwich and enjoyed the hilarity that ensued.

So, there were two condoms in my son’s side table drawer for quite a while. And then there was a girl friend. And then there was one condom. That afternoon, I met my son in the driveway and said, “Get in the car. I need to talk to you.” “Why?” he asked. “Get in the car,” I said. “We’ll go get ice cream.” Maybe my Dad is onto something with the driving thing, but a car ride is my go to parenting tactic when I need to confront—I mean—talk to, my son.

In the catalog of things a mother doesn’t want to hear, I think “I didn’t use it because it didn’t fit” is way up there with “I didn’t know the gun was loaded” and “You can’t get addicted to heroin with just one use.” I still can’t figure out how a condom doesn’t fit, but my son was insistent and is gloating about it to his dad. I find this rather unseemly, but figure that’s between the boys. In addition to stern lectures and profound disappointment, I provided condoms that should be large enough for my son, ego included. If he doesn’t improve his grades, I suppose Porn Star could be his fallback career.

And now we come to the training bra. My daughter is perched precariously on the verge of puberty. She can be as smart-mouthed as her older brother one minute and talking baby talk the next. She’s convinced she’s beginning to bud, but her pediatrician and I disagree. Still she’s tremendously modest and I was reminded of this when her shirt obeyed the laws of gravity, revealing most of her upper body as she hung upside down from the neighbor’s monkey bar. We hustled off to Target and secured “bralettes,” which are actually more like cut-off camisoles than bras.

She was understandably and adorably eager to wear one when we got home. In her haste to remove her shirt, she got stuck with it half over her head. Helping her was so easy, I nearly cried; I untied the sash she’d forgotten about. She popped on the bralette, threw on her shirt and ran outside, shouting, “I’m wearing a sport bra!”

The day will come when I need help the way my loved ones do now. I hope it’s later, rather than sooner. When it does, I hope it doesn’t involve extra-large condoms and training bras.

17 Responses to “Bras, Condoms and a Drive in the Country”

  1. luanamariav March 22, 2012 at 1:50 pm #

    Loved your post! A parenting blog I actually enjoy.
    Sincerely, a 19-year old who often has conflicts with the older generations but loves to hear their version of the story too.

    • jmlindy422 March 22, 2012 at 4:04 pm #

      Thanks! I’m running between jobs right now, but promise to check out your blog!

  2. Ashley Austrew March 22, 2012 at 2:47 pm #

    I love this and so needed to read something like this today. Fantastic writing.

    • jmlindy422 March 22, 2012 at 4:04 pm #

      Thanks! It was fun to write since it’s a wonderful day out and I have a laptop.

  3. Mad Queen Linda March 22, 2012 at 3:18 pm #

    I should be able to do more than just click the “like” button, since this post deserves better than that, but my brain isn’t up to it. I’m going to take a drive, and hope a more profound response is generated during it.

    • jmlindy422 March 22, 2012 at 4:05 pm #

      Wow, what a sweet response. Take that drive, but don’t think you have to find anything more profound. Thanks!

  4. philosophermouseofthehedge March 22, 2012 at 3:59 pm #

    Hugs. And sighs. (another hug)

  5. societyred March 23, 2012 at 9:54 am #

    Life is so good, isn’t it? I really enjoy your writing. Thank you!

  6. sukanya March 23, 2012 at 1:10 pm #

    Por star would be his fall back career- sorry but this cracked me! Enjoyed this one-needed some chuckle time:-)

    • jmlindy422 March 23, 2012 at 1:16 pm #

      Thanks! Gotta get something posted to muliticultural moms. Promise to do it soon.

  7. The Waiting March 24, 2012 at 6:27 pm #

    Boy oh boy, are you storing up the good karma! Love this in so many ways. I have a feeling when it comes time in the very, very distant future for you to be cared for, you will have ample assistance. Even if the kiddies don’t stand up and do it, I WILL!

    • jmlindy422 March 24, 2012 at 8:32 pm #

      Emily, you are going to be so busy with that girl! I would be honored to have you care for me.

  8. kateluthner79 March 28, 2012 at 3:56 pm #

    great post as always – my mom also did the ‘your trapped lets talk’ car conversations. I’m sure I will too.

    • jmlindy422 March 28, 2012 at 4:47 pm #

      Thanks, Kate. That car thing is magic. Not just because the kid is captive, but I’ve noticed that kids will talk spontaneously when in the car. Especially teens when they are sitting in the front passenger seat.

  9. Wade July 29, 2013 at 2:05 pm #

    Hmm it looks like your website ate my first comment (it was extremely long) so I guess I’ll just sum it up what I had written and say, I’m thoroughly enjoying your blog.

    I too am an aspiring blog writer but I’m still new to the whole thing. Do you have any tips for rookie blog writers? I’d certainly appreciate it.

    • jmlindy422 July 29, 2013 at 2:49 pm #

      Hmm, yourself. It looks like you are running a sticker business. What’s up with that???

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