Also, Rick is crabby.
I am going to admit something:
I really don’t like Rick.
Still, I am trying to have EMPATHY. Having empathy means you can understand how another person is feeling. Smokers are addicted, and that must be hard. Maybe that’s why he is so crabby.
But secondhand smoke is known to be bad for you, too. So because of the secondhand smoke, we went into the backyard to snuggle with Nell, because even goat smells are better than cigarette smells.
After that, we walked over to the Secret Stairway. We had all decided to finally have our Facts of Life conversation.
I felt ready.
I will try to record my Facts of Life conversation with Hazel and Gabby as accurately as I can. Because I know I will have pretty much the same conversation with you, You, when you are old enough.
To be continued later.
BEFORE BED
And now for another installment of:
SECRETS OF THE SECRET STAIRWAY (SOSS)
THE FACTS OF LIFE EDITION
Gabby: “I am glad we waited to have this conversation when Angel wasn’t with us. She is too young to understand these things. The Facts of Life are about private, beautiful, mature things.”
Me: “Yes, life and love and babies and families. Those things are more important than anything. So you have to be mature.”
Hazel: “I hate when immature people laugh about the Facts of Life. The Facts are not a laughing matter.”
Gabby: “You know what some people call the Facts of Life? The Story of the Birds and the Bees!”
Me: “FACT: Humans do NOT lay eggs and then sit on them to keep them warm!”
We laughed our heads off at that, but not out of immaturity, of course.
Then we became very quiet. It’s Sunday, so there wasn’t any noisy traffic at the bottom of the secret stairs. But the whole wide world seemed quiet, too, even the birds and the bees! We were waiting for one of us to start this very important conversation. None of us knew how to do it.
Finally, Hazel said, “OK, here are the Facts I know. When a man and a woman are in love and want to make a baby, the sperm from the father’s penis enters the mother’s vagina when the father puts his penis there. Then the sperm travels up to the woman’s uterus to fertilize the egg that’s waiting for it.”
Gabby: “Those are the Facts I know, too. And also, the man and woman kiss.”
Then they both looked at me, waiting for the Facts they didn’t know.
Me: “So, same thing: Sperm plus Egg equals Baby. Plus kiss. But when two women are in love and want to start a family, the sperm can enter the mother’s vagina using a syringe. The mothers can get the sperm from a sperm bank, where kindly men have deposited their sperm to help other people create families.”
Gabby and Hazel said, “Oh.” They were quiet again for a while.
Hazel: “Well, I think it’s nice that all kinds of families can have babies.”
Gabby: “Yes, babies are fun. Sometimes.”
Of course, she was thinking about her sister, Angel, the pest.
Then Hazel asked about the father of our baby.
I explained that when you are eighteen, You, your sperm donor has agreed to meet you, if that’s what you want. It will be entirely up to you.
Hazel said it’s much harder for a daughter when she has known her father very, very well, ever since she was born, and then she doesn’t see him much at all lately, except during summer vacation, although he had to skip last summer and she misses him terribly.
Of course, she was talking about her own dad, who lives in Cincinnati.
I felt so much empathy for Hazel then. I told Hazel that even my situation is easier than hers. I mean, having a father whom you don’t remember and don’t miss at all. Or maybe just a little bit. And maybe I only remember him from his photograph.
Of course, I have double the love from Mama and Sammy!
And so do you, You.
Everything is relative, right?
Love,
Pen
PS. Can’t wait to take you to Fairyland.
MONDAY, MARCH 16, 2015
Dear You,
The Dubs are going to the playoffs! Only the top eight teams from the Western Conference get to go, and we are #1! And then the winner of the West plays the winner of the East for the NBA Finals.
Love,
Pen
Beat the Lakers tonight, 108–105. Klay hurt his ankle in the third quarter!
Feel better, Klay!
TUESDAY, MARCH 17, 2015
Dear You,
Nobody likes it when her parents argue. Scary thoughts about divorce wiggle like worms into your mind. It’s true that Mama and Sammy only have a marriage of the heart, but if they weren’t together, it would still HURT like a divorce.
A divorce of the heart.
Sammy brought home a bunch of paint chips for your room. But Mama said Sammy’s paint samples weren’t necessary, because we don’t need to get your room ready yet.
And soon after that, Sammy and Mama had an argument.
I must have had a worried look on my face.
Mama said to me: “What’s with the hangdog expression, kiddo? This is what’s known as a heated discussion, that’s all.”
Me: “It sounded like you were arguing.”
Sammy: “OK, let’s call a spade a spade and an argument an argument. What’s wrong with arguing? It clears the air!”
The air really did need clearing.
The air felt like it was filled with little sharp electricity zaps straight from their thoughts. Mama and Sammy had turned those electricity zaps into words, and then it sure sounded like an argument to me.
THE ARGUMENT:
Sammy wants to find out if you are a boy or a girl before you are officially born.
Mama doesn’t.
When Mama has something called an ULTRASOUND, a special camera on her belly, they may be able to see the baby’s penis if it’s a boy. Parents can choose to have the ultrasound technician give them that information. Or not.
But sometimes the penis is hidden or blurry so you don’t really know if it’s there.
Mama: “So if we don’t see anything, we won’t know anything for sure, anyway.”
Sammy: “But what if we DO see something? Then we’ll know.”
Mama: “Why do we have to know? Don’t we want it to be a surprise when the baby is born?”
Sammy slapped the palm of her hand on her forehead. That’s a thing she does when she’s annoyed.
Sammy: “Won’t it be a surprise no matter WHEN we find out?”
And that’s when Mama started to cry.
And that’s when Sammy and I really, really listened to Mama and had empathy.
It turns out it’s not about the surprise at all. It’s about Mama being scared that something bad may happen, like it did when Mama had those other pregnancies that didn’t work out. And if Mama knows whether you are a boy or a girl, then she’ll have a mind-picture of you. If something bad happens to you, it will hurt more because of that mind-picture.
“Remember,” Sammy said, just like she always does, “worrying about something doesn’t mean it will happen.” But she gave Mama a big hug. And told Mama she understood.
Mama: “What if you found out it was a girl? Would you really paint a girl’s room PETUNIA PINK? Would you paint a boy’s room BOBBIN’ ROBIN BLUE?”
Sammy and I said “Ugh!” at the same time.
And that’s when we all laughed and the argument was over.
As for me, I don’t care if you are a boy or a girl, You. And I will wait until you are safely born to find out, if that’s what Mama wants.
Because I just think of you as You, Precious You, right now. You are as real to me as anything, and it doesn’t matter if you are a boy or a girl.
I do worry every now and then, though. Just a bit.
So hang in there, little You.
Please.
Love,
/> Pen
PS. I read that Ohlone babies of long ago slept in cradles, woven like baskets and decorated with beads and shells. But the Ohlone thought it was bad luck to make those cradles before their babies were born. They would have understood how Mama felt.
THURSDAY, MARCH 19, 2015
Dear You,
Things are proceeding APACE. I have always wanted to say that.
But I think apace is the kind of word I would feel weird saying out loud. Writing it is different.
So. Things are proceeding apace.
Mama’s belly is too big for her jeans. She has to wear pants with elasticized waists.
And Mama says you are moving a bit every day.
I am struck with awe and happiness at the thought of you. Now I really understand what awestruck and awesome mean.
You will soon be a part of us. Like a jigsaw puzzle piece, fitting right in.
You seem to move most during a basketball game, she says. Thank you for your support!
And Mama swears you wriggle after a very spicy meal, as if you can taste what she is tasting. What to Expect says you start tasting at twenty-seven weeks, and you are only about twenty weeks. But Mama says you probably have a sophisticated palate like the rest of the family.
WHAT I LOVE TO TASTE
Chili peppers
Sammy’s enchilada casserole
Sammy’s spaghetti with marinara sauce and meatballs
Mama’s cakes
Sammy’s pot roast
Sushi
Ice cream, not every flavor (e.g., not Blueberry Crumb)
Cotton candy (I’ve actually never tasted it, but I just know I’d like it.)
Cranberry relish
Mint picked fresh from our backyard
(Actually, the list of things to eat is very long.)
Rain on my tongue
Love,
Pen
PS. I wonder what acorn mush tastes like. I imagine it tastes like nuts.
SATURDAY, MARCH 21, 2015
Dear You,
Gabby and I walked over to Hazel’s this afternoon. Her mom said Hazel was in her room, but when I started to go toward the big bedroom, I smelled cigarette smoke coming from under the door.
Her mom said, “No, no, not THAT room. The other one.”
And then I knew why Hazel’s eyes had been so red in school the other day. Her mom and Rick have moved themselves into the big master bedroom.
Hazel was sitting on her bed, which is now in the smaller room.
Hazel: “It all happened really fast after they had a big argument. The refrigerator is in the garage now. I told them its humming noise helps me sleep, but they said it doesn’t really fit in this room. Rick says I’ve been spoiled.”
Gabby: “You look like a spoiled grapefruit.”
Me: “Or maybe a spoiled banana.”
Hazel gave a little smile. “Ha ha, to both of you,” she said.
Her voice was gravelly because her nose was stuffed up.
“My mom said I am allowed to listen to music on my iPad when I can’t sleep. Also, my mom said I could paint this room any color I want. I am trying to make the best of things.”
Hazel didn’t really look like she was trying to make the best of things. Her books and Dubs posters and stuffed animals and shoes were scattered all over the room. There were plates of leftover food on the floor near her bed. She had been eating meals in her room. Her choice, she said.
Hazel hadn’t even watched last night’s game against the Pelicans. She hadn’t felt like it. She must have been feeling really bad. She asked us how Klay Thompson was doing. We were sorry to have to tell her he was still out with his sore ankle, but we won the game because of Harrison Barnes, who scored twenty-two points.
So Hazel perked up. It is amazing how basketball can do that to you when you are down in the dumps!
Then Gabby had a great idea, as she usually does.
Gabby: “Hey, Penny and I can help you paint your room.”
Me: “And guess what? We have paint samples at our house!”
I raced home and brought back the paint chips. Hazel chose Petunia Pink, which wouldn’t have been my choice, but it’s her room. Her mom said she would buy the paint. Gabby said there are brushes and a drop cloth in her garage. So we are all set to paint pretty soon.
We picked up everything from the floor and helped Hazel put her stuff away. We even sprayed with Febreze to get the cigarette smell out as much as we could.
Then we watched the game at Gabby’s house. A win against the Jazz, 106–91.
We tried to mimic Andrew Bogut’s Australian accent after we heard him interviewed. Gabby did it best. She is so talented! Lately, she is considering the acting profession.
Mike wasn’t there. Gabby said he was over at a friend’s house. I was very disappointed, of course. It would have been fun sharing the win with him.
Love,
Penny
SUNDAY, MARCH 22, 2015
Dear You,
And now for another installment of . . .
SECRETS OF THE SECRET STAIRWAY (SOSS)
LOVE AND MARRIAGE AND TRUTH EDITION
GABBY’S SECRET:
Gabby said she had gossip, not a secret. The news is she is positive that Mike has a girlfriend. Lately, he drives off by himself, probably to take the girlfriend on dates. Gabby saw a Mounds candy wrapper in the car’s garbage receptacle, and Mike hates coconut.
Hazel and I laughed. We both feel that is not enough evidence. It could have been anyone’s Mounds bar! I think Angel likes Mounds bars, actually.
So I am trying hard not to feel worried and jealous, because just because you are worried about something doesn’t mean it will happen.
HAZEL’S SECRET:
Hazel hopes her mother and Rick don’t get married.
Rick is still not a goat lover, she said. Nell has never nuzzled Rick’s hair, not even once.
We told her that maybe Rick needs more time to get used to having a goat in his own backyard. Gabby said her dad didn’t like their pet iguana at first, either.
Hazel began to cry. She said it’s taking much too long. Her mother used to be a goat lover. She even made yogurt! Then she changed when she met Rick. Rick said that Nell may have to go. He wants to put a bocce court in the backyard. Bocce is sort of like outdoor bowling. A goat would be totally in the way of the bocce games.
I have so much more empathy for Hazel. Remember Mr. Chen’s tie where one line looked smaller but really wasn’t? It’s sort of like that with Hazel. I saw her one way, but now I see her another way, even though she has been the same person all along.
MY SECRET:
Right then and there, I decided it was OK to share my fabrication with Hazel.
I took a deep breath and admitted to her that I do not possess any Ohlone DNA, and that I had borrowed Sammy’s heritage. Sammy is a relative by adoption and by domestic partnership only.
I told her the story about Mama and my deceased dad both being orphans and how that’s why I didn’t use my own heritage. I didn’t really have any. And also I was envious of everyone else’s interesting heritages in our class.
Hazel made me feel much better.
Hazel: “I can understand why you fabricated. I fabricate sometimes, too. Everyone does. I promise with all my heart not to tell. But how terribly tragic that your mom is an orphan! When I saw the movie about that orphan Annie, some parts of it made me sob, especially when she sang ‘Tomorrow.’”
Gabby: “I thought it was so horrible that the orphans in the movie had to do all that mopping and scrubbing in the orphanage!”
I don’t think Mama had to do a lot of mopping and scrubbing at her foster parents’ homes. At least I hope not. I will have to remember to ask her.
I also gave Gabby and Hazel a preview of my presentation, the part about the Bay Street mall and the desecrated burial sites. We vowed never, ever to shop there again, even though the Apple Store is there.
After that, we j
ust kept talking and talking some more. It felt so good to stretch my heart and mind. And have TWO really good friends to share private things with on our special Secret Stairway. Now I see how that works.
Love,
Penny
3/23/15: Beat the Wizards tonight, 107–76.
3/24/15: Beat the Portland Trail Blazers tonight, 122–108.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25, 2015
Dear You,
Today, Hazel said: “The Dubs are at the bottom of the NBA, you know.”
Gabby and I: “What?”
Hazel: “It’s true! In tattoo statistics! Curry and Bogut have tattoos that are covered up or too small to notice. Klay Thompson and a few others don’t have any at all.”
We laughed our heads off about that.
You can find out anything on the Internet, anything at all.
Lucky duck Hazel has her very own iPad, as I told you. Her father bought it for her when her parents got a divorce, after he moved away. One day, she came home, and there it was, fresh from the online Apple Store!
Her mom’s boyfriend, Rick, says it’s outrageous that she has her own iPad. But Hazel says it’s a gift from her own father and it’s TOTALLY, TOTALLY none of Rick’s business.
So Hazel goes on the Internet for her own research whenever she needs to. She doesn’t need to go to the library or use a parent’s computer like the rest of us. She kindly offered to share her iPad with Gabby and me.
Today, we were at Hazel’s house after school, Hazel and Gabby and I, researching facts about our countries of origin: Russia, England, Jamaica, and the United States, specifically Oakland around the time of the early Ohlone.
And then Hazel said that she feels SO bad that Mama is an orphan. An orphan with no stories about her heritage! She thought we should search the Internet to get more information about Mama’s family in Wyoming.
Mama didn’t even own a computer back in Junoville, and that was a long time ago, I realized. Since then, she must have given up looking for relatives anywhere, out of sadness.
Love, Penelope Page 7