Independent Mothers

Wingman and the FBR

First of all – hearty congratulations to all the Panamanians on the occasion of their independence day. I won’t over emphasize the fact that Teddy Roosevelt should be listed amongst the founding fathers. It’s kind of bizarre that my late mother’s birthday also falls on this date. She never visited Panama and kind of resented the fact I didn’t tell her I was marrying the Favorite Panamanian until just before the date. We had a semi-tough relationship at the time with some resentment on both sides. I’ve written before of the enigmatic woman who was my mother. As I’ve reconnected with my father’s family over the years many of the older cousins have revealed a side to my mother I never knew. When she first joined the family back in the 1950s she was looked upon as a glamourous addition; a strikingly beautiful, buoyant woman marrying the handsome youngest and definitely “coolest” of the uncles.

Mom and I in Early 1980s

I caught the tail end of that period, at least in my memories. The more permanent recollections come from the time when their marriage fell apart and the resulting acrimony which my sisters and I continue to deal with to this day. Their divorce came before the time when families and most especially children weren’t supposed to be forced to take sides. I fight with myself a lot trying to resurrect a more favorable remembrance of my mother who remained distant and withdrawn from us despite the almost psychotic devotion from her children. If life ever offered “do overs” I’d go back to the time of the divorce and tell both of my parents to handle it better.

Mom and My Daughter, the FBR's Mom

I know she would have fawned over the latest addition to the family – the FBR, in much the same way she did for my daughter. They had a special relationship from their first meeting and it was in that bond I would catch glimpses of the mother my older cousins talk about. Whenever there’s a big family event or gathering my thoughts always turn at least once to wishing she’d lived long enough to see my kids as the fabulous adults they’ve grown into. She’d be almost as proud of them as I am. So Happy Birthday Mom, I miss you.

The FBR is bouncing back from her Halloween cold although it left her with a Scarlett Johansson type raspy voice last night. She handled the fact that her Elmo doll ate all of her trick or treat candy overnight with her usual equanimity. I suspect larcenies such as this in future years will not be tolerated anywhere near as well. We’re all gearing up for her upcoming second birthday and associated party. I plan on deploying Bonecrusher, the ceremonial family sword, so she can properly sever her cake.

We were joined by the Neighborhood Mafiosos last night for a movie which always makes for an enhanced experience. We went to see A Bad Moms Christmas which was a virtual repeat in most part from last year’s raunchy comedy about mothers who abandon their typical roles. That’s okay because the jokes don’t seem stale yet. Each of the three main moms bring in their own mothers to deal with Christmas traditions and expectations. One is control freak, another psychotically clingy, and the third criminally negligent. The strength of the movie remains Kristen Bell and Katheryn Hahn, most especially and definitely Hahn. The momentum comes to a screeching halt whenever the focus is strictly on the Mila Kunis story line and you find yourself hoping Hahn will return quickly. She has the funniest moments, including a hilarious waxing scene with a male stripper. From the preceding statement you should glean that this is definitely not a film for anyone very young or with overly puritanical moral values. It’s very cool to see women allowed the same kind of comedic artistic leeway that men have always enjoyed and I guarantee you’ll see snippets of your mother, wife, and/or sister in many of the situations. This is good, very light fun.

The Bad Cinema project count remains to #50 out of 100, with Destroy All Planets, where the damned fire breathing turtle returns.