A is for Attire: I've never even tried on a girdle, let alone owned one. In Momma's day, a woman who went bare-legged (except at the beach) was scandalous. Bare shoulders were fine, though. Now I never wear pantyhose to the office, but I would not wear an off-the-shoulder top. I don't believe my Momma ever owned a pair of jeans, but you'lll never find me in elastic-waist pants...except yoga pants on schlumpy-day.
B is for Bedroom: Momma didn't talk about this. I swear to all good things that this is how THE TALK went with me. (A lot of hmmm-ing and haw-ing and blushing...) Momma told me that after a man and woman had been married a while (really, Momma? after a while???), if they wanted to start a family....(more awkward pausing) the man takes the place where he pees and puts it where she pees and she has a baby nine months later. She said this as quickly as possible and then darted from the room. OK, I'm exaggerating about the darting. But sex was talked about and treated as an unpleasantly required duty. Momma missed out on a lot, I think.
C is for Career: My Momma was a SAHM always. Ever and always. I got my ten years in as a SAHM, but then the budget got tight enough that something was going to have to snap. So I went back to work. Momma never understood that. How could she? It was never a requirement for her. The conundrum is, Grandma understood perfectly. She'd had to work because she was bringing up children during the depression years.
D is for Denial: Momma grew up in the days when "Don't ask, don't tell" applied to most things in life. Feigned ignorance, don't look at it and it will go away-- sweet, blissful denial. She looked the other way when we smoked pot, because she didn't want to know. If something was too difficult, you simply didn't confront it. Well, at least, SHE didn't. What I wouldn't give to learn that trick now!
E if for Education: Here's something that has changed little. Momma thought that half your education happened in the classroom. The other half came from home and the outside world. Now schools want to try to be responsible for 100% of the education of our children, but they're only getting about 25% of it done. Momma taught me how to cook and sew and tend the home LONG before I got into home economics. I already knew how to read and write before kindergarten. I knew about history from the lives of my ancestors, and I knew about science from hunting and fishing and livestock and gardening and sitting out on the porch at night while Daddy pointed out the constellations.
F is for Fairness: Momma always told me that life wasn't fair. Nothing has changed.
G is for God: Momma thought that your relationship with God was forged inside the walls of your favorite house of worship. I think those walls are completely unneccesary and even a detriment to true faith.
H is for Hormones: The Big M. Spoken of only in whispers. If your doctor gave you hormones to help you during the dreaded change, you kissed his hands and thanked heaven for an understanding doctor. Believe it or not, some doctors prescribed Valium when their middle-aged female patients told of hot flashes, insomnia, mood swings, night sweats and an overwhelming desire to slap the shit of someone....anyone. Wow am I ever happy that attitude has changed! How could I possibly do my job on Valium?
I is for Intelligence: My Momma has actually said to me, "Boys don't like girls who are too smart." I rest my case.
J is for Join. Momma's generation were great joiners. I think it's because if they didn't join some committee or league or club, they would have to stay home and contemplate their housework. Some women my age have inherited this, but many more of us seem to get all the outside interaction we need at work. In THAT way, I'm a stay at home kind of Mom.
K is for Kids: My brothers were brought up to know how to do boy things. We girls were raised to know how to manage a household. I turned away from that philosophy on purpose. I wanted them to know how to fix their cars and plumbing and building and hunting and fishing. It was also important to me that my sons know how to do their own laundry, including the ironing, to be able to prepare a decent meal, to figure out how to negotiate a grocery store. Because THIS Momma isn't going to be babying those little fledglings when they fly the nest.
L is for Love: Momma always told me that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. She was wrong. See B.
M is for Masturbation. OK. Never mind. I bet you can figure this one out for yourself.
N is for Nice. Nice girls don't wear red nail polish. Nice girls wear high collars. Nice girls never swear. Nice girls nice girls nice girls. How about real WOMEN? I don't cuss in mixed company, although I am fluent in that language, too. I do wear red polish and I do have boob shirts, even though I don't wear them to work or PTA meetings. If I went to PTA meetings, that is. And I'm nice. I am! I'm as faithful as an old dog, I treat my husband nice in all the right ways and I'm a friend you can count on. The heck with nice girls. I'd rather be a real woman.
O is for Orgasm. Did she? I doubt it. I do. Lots.
P is for Polite: One day Mr. Rural and I went to a pizza buffet restaurant for lunch. There was only ONE, count them, ONE bread stick left in the bin. Momma's voice came through, loud and clear, "don't take that! It's the last one!" Now, I believe in manners, and I would not take the last Coors Light out of the fridge without checking to see if Mr. Rural wants half. But I paid my $5.99 and I took the last bread stick. So there, mom!!
Q is for Quiet. Children were to be seen and not heard. At all times. If we wanted to run around like a bunch of wild animals, we could darn well go down to the creek and do that. She may have had a point there.
R is for Respect. My children know that they better trot out the old, "Yes Ma'am" when I'm mad, but the rest of the time, we can joke around together. I couldn't kid much with Momma until I hit 30.
S is for Supervision: On any summer day, we had our breakfast and did our chores and we were free for the rest of the day. (I figured out later on that Momma was also therefore ...free). As long as we were home by dark-thirty, it was fine. Can you imagine doing that now? Oh, what a simpler time that was!
T is for Tension: In some ways, I wonder if my Momma ever really knew what stress was. She had her trials I know. How is it, though, that I do very nearly all the same things Momma did and a full time career, too? I can apples in the fall and I make bread on the weekends and I sew my own clothes. I have half as many children as she did, of course. My momma didn't have any hobbies, really, though and we lived too far out in the country for her to do any kind of weekly activity outside the home. She read a lot. Yeah. I don't have time to read. It must be that.
U is for Underwear: We covered the girdle already (LOL). Momma would be astonished at my lingerie. My unmentionables are designed to show things off, not squeeze them, point them, flatten them or conceal them. They come in pretty colors and wild prints and none of them cross my heart. (Do you remember when bras were shown on mannequins or models, OVER their leotards? Ha ha ha. )
V is for Valium: I don't know if this is an improvement over Momma's day or not. Women today are not given a get-out-of-jail-free card called "hysteria" for our bad behavior. I don't want to stray onto a soap box here, because I do NOT believe that women patients are taken as seriously by the medical community as men are. But generally speaking, when life gets us down now, we don't get to call it a nervous condition or whatever. We have to down our Cabernet and get on with life. There isn't any time for a breakdown anymore. Hey! That's a full circle, because we're back to the pioneer days!
W is for Wallet: Most of us don't have to ask the breadwinner for our weekly allowance anymore. A great many of us ARE the breadwinner, sole or major, either one. And guess what! Women can manage finances as well as men do!
X is for X-rated: Momma would never have permitted a Playboy magazine in the house. If anything half-way "racy" came across the airwaves, someone got up and changed the channel (do you remember having to do that?) Who cares now? I'm old enough to have figured out that my sons can get their hands on such things pretty easily. It's more about the example they have in life. Let them have the illusion for a while that women really look like that.
Z is for Zero. That's how many ideas I have for a Z word.
Rural Mom
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