Sep 1, 2004

Ah, the month of September. Schools supplies and backpacks. Bus schedules and lunch money. More time for Mom to be someone other than Mom.

But I have always maintained my identity as someone other than just a birthing caregiver. Probably because I grew up in an environment where women worked, sometimes alongside their men, sometimes on their own. Strong women. Educated women. Opinionated women. I was at more of a disadvantage during Women's Lib because I didn't at first understand what all the fuss was about. Liberation from what? My mom worked, drove her own car, had her own money, made decisions. That June Cleever/Donna Reed person was completely foreign to me.

As I got older and knew more of the world, I realized my mother was not quite as independent as I thought. She still had more than a lot of other moms I encountered, but my father definitely ruled the roost. He had to have things his way. Not because women were second-class citizens, just because, well, he had to have things his way. Period.

Still does.

He's hard of hearing now. So he's having a difficult time maintaining control, especially over his granddaughter who is walking the line between being respectful and not taking shit from anybody. Irks him.

Amuses the sh*t outta me.

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