Mamma Mia

Coming of age seems to feel liberating. Any age I guess would fit that category. But being a product of the 60's growing up,waged war with our conscience. That is, if we had one.

This past weekend, I had permission to go out on the town with my hubby for four hours. And I took full advantage and fled for the Abba heart throb experience. First of all, at my age , that I am able to leave the house, have my child fed, and cared for for under $50,00, (that's the going rate for baby sitting eve.) is incredible. The gymnast is what we now call her since she attends gymnastics on a regular basis, was invited to a pizza night out at her academy. What a great idea. We took her for her dining experience, her athletic adventure, and off we were to the Meryl Streep extravaganza, one of my favorite actresses.


Reminiscent of an era gone wacky, many of us stood out as idealists, traditionalists, and so forth. So the irony of that period created its own social revolution pitting those who were the "stick in the mud" and the "freedom fighters."

My husband and I found each other when I was in high school.I suppose we would be the stick in the mud characters. We did all the things the way "my mother said to." He did too. We dated, and were engaged for two and a half long years, were very very good, (if you know what I mean). Then we married, and had a family. In between we both made sure we got our education. So what could go wrong?

Nothing more and nothing less than turning the clock back. We needed to be suited up and toughened up for the parent trap. When lightning strikes one should not be standing outside under the trees.

Although the critics gave Mama Mia a fair review, I am going to say, it tickled my funny bone. First of all, I AM a product of the 60's. And I HAVE raised our very own flower child of whom I a am quite remarkably proud.

Raising children as a single mom, that's not so unusual in today's world.Back in the 60's it was a shocking experience. So for a mother to say I'd rather raise this child on my own than chance a risky marriage, took some punch.

We never know if our sacrifice is going to be appreciated. What goes on in the kid's mind is forever changing. Just when you think that you got the explanation right, well there is another disconnect in the translation.You think you said"I did this for you," and all the while they are thinking, "I am going to get back at you."

The traditional family has faded. It is now commonplace to create families of all sorts.Taking on single parenting is no longer outlandish. However,"choosing" the single motherhood role is still gutsy.

The kid gets sick, you are in charge, fully. From poop, to falling down the stairs, hair raising experiences which you have to meet the challenge on your own send chills up and down my spine.

I was so glad to have my husband help me raising our children. He was and still is dear and kind and even helpful on occasion. My kids used to want to divide us and pull us apart, so they could have their way. I remember it well.



What also competes with the 60 revolution is our generation of independent mom's who work very hard to prove that they are going to get it better than we did.

Hats off to all the single moms that get it right. Those who give up their own self interest for the sake of motherhood are to be commended. Hats off to single moms who have learned to enjoy their role, despite the road that led them there.

Life is funny. We are kids, teens, adults, seniors, and I guess kids again. All the while we create a picture of who we are and where we are going and how we are going to get there when we are young. The road is often winding, and for me the directionally challenged one, I often find myself making several turns. My daughter, well, she keeps driving, her foot on the gas, straight toward her destination. She has her little girl wrapped in her Maya wrap which she fashioned on her own, built her own boat, became an independent contractor, despite her deep conviction for her artistic work. Her daughter, is her life.

My daughter is raising a soon two year old, and I a four year old. Who knew that our lives would follow a common road, despite a 2500 mile distance between us. Our roads have merged into a beautiful joint expedition with granny and motherhood combined.