Seven Again

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Yesterday, Iz had a few gift cards that were burning a hole in her size 6x jeans. She had received one from Sephora and one from Toys R’ Us for her birthday. I had promised her that after I cleaned the house, I’d take her to redeem them.

Of course, after I cleaned the entire house, I felt like curling up on the couch with the TV remote in my hand. Iz kept asking me when we were going, and I could only put it off for so long. And, when I heard “Mommy, remember, you promised,” I knew there was no curling up on the couch in my future, because I did promise.

As we drove up to the mall in Nashua, Iz plotted out her shopping strategy. “First, we will go to Sephora. You can get two things, and I can get two things.” Before leaving, I remembered that we had two Sephora gift cards from Valentine’s Day, so our buying power was now $75. Iz then said, “After Sephora, we will go to Toys R’ Us. But, we have to go buy chocolate balls (Lindt truffles), too. And, can we go look in the pet store, too?”

I love Iz, because she is all that and more, but I so adore the planner part about her. As I said previously, all of the men in my life aren't planners and that irks me every now and then*. I must have been Patton, albeit Patton in heels, in another life. I needed a battle plan!

*This weekend, Nathan’s plans changed liked Iz changed outfits. “I’ll see you on Sunday.” “I’ll see you on Saturday, and then I’m going to go to Matt’s.” “I’ll see you on Saturday, but I’m not going to Matt’s.” “Pick me up at Matt’s, take me to my Dad’s, bring me home, and then someone’s picking me up at 11pm to take me to Matt’s.” Arrrrrgggggh!

Once at Sephora, Iz grabbed a basket and said, “Here, Mom. We’ll put our stuff in here.” I had to laugh, because I never grabbed a basket. I always juggled my purchases in my hands.

After an hour in the store, I had added one pressed powder compact to our basket. Iz picked up a tin of solid perfume, body wash in the same scent as the perfume, and a pink lipstick. Funny, but I think it was the same shade I wore when I was a Las Vegas booth babe. (And, I think she used your gift card, Brenda and Steve, for this lipstick!) Ah, like mother like daughter!



After owing Sephora $8, we headed off to Toys ‘R Us. Of course, to be honest, I did lobby for heading home with “Are you sure you don’t want to save your gift card for another time, Iz?” Iz said, “No!”

I sighed, because if Sephora took an hour, I knew Toys ‘R Us would be a two-hour excursion for sure. And once we walked through the doors of Geoffrey, I saw the bewildered and almost trance-like look on Iz’s face – “So many toys and only a $50 gift card!”

If we had a divining rod just then, it wasn’t leading us to water; it was leading us straight to the Barbie doll aisle. If my couch had a gravitational pull, then so did the Barbie aisle at Toys R’ Us. In less than 5 minutes, we were there looking at over 25 different Barbie dolls.

As Iz walked up and down the aisle, I had no choice but to ponder my Barbie days, the “olden days.” When I was growing up, we had only a handful of dolls to choose from – Barbie, PJ, Francie, Skipper, and Ken to name the few. When I looked at the shelves, I saw you could choose from mermaid Barbie, Barbie Twilight Bella, Cyndi Lauper Barbie, Pet Doctor Barbie, and Alfred Hitchcock The Birds Barbie!

After much pondering, Iz decided to buy the Barbie Glam Vacation House. Considering she had ten Barbie dolls, if not more, I thought the house was a good but not redundant addition to her huge collection. And, I had to laugh, because I still had my sister’s Barbie’s Mountain Ski Cabin in the attic.

As we drove home, I couldn’t help but think some more about my Barbie days, which had begun when I was about Iz’s age, too. My sister and I played for hours with our Barbie dolls. And back then, we didn’t have Barbie this or Barbie that.

I remember my sister and I had bought plastic horses for our dolls to ride at Woolworth's. They weren’t Barbie-approved horses, but they worked nicely with our dolls. I remember Julie, who was very artistic and very into riding then, handcrafted horse combs and brushes out of cardboard. If our dolls lacked anything, we made it for them.

And when home yesterday night helping Iz assemble her vacation house, I envied her. It was good to be seven. She had her parents, her brother, her three cats, and her dog; she had a loving and happy home.

I remember being 7. My first grade teacher aside*, I remember being very happy then. We played outside a lot and the rocks, sticks, and leaves in our yard became stores, homes, and money (the leaves!). And, an old odometer attached to the underside of the basement stairs was the dashboard of a space ship for me, Julie, and Jack.

*From a previous blog: My first grade teacher was Mrs. Moyer. God, she was awful. She was not very kid friendly, which is obviously a really bad personality trait when you're a teacher, and she had a totally cruel but apparently 1968-acceptable way of dealing with children who talked too much in class; she taped their mouths shut with masking tape! Jeez, could you even imagine that going on in a first grade classroom today?

*We had one particular chatty Kathy in our class. No. It wasn't me. I liked to talk then and still do, but I was totally scared silent by an authority figure and sadistic punisher like Mrs. Moyer. Poor Gayle Howes. Yes, I will never forget her name. A beautiful and lovely girl, who I went to school with through the 12th grade, yet whenever I saw her, even years later, all I could think about was her with her mouth covered in masking tape looking like an unfinished mummy of sorts.

My mother told me that when she and my Dad bought their house in Sudbury, the town I grew up in, they had money to pay the mortgage, the bills, and clothe us; however, there was nothing for anything after that. My Mom cut our hair, and no wonder why my bangs were always uneven and too short! But, I never felt deprived growing up.

My parents were always there. No matter what their relationship, I always felt a sense of love and security. I didn’t get the white patent leather go-go boots and our family vacations only began when I was about 11. They comprised a week at a cheap motel in Cape Cod and not a cruise or a trip to Disney World. But, for the most part, I always felt safe and loved.

Today, I had a phone interview. The interviewer asked me approximately five questions. After I responded to each question, she answered with a very generic response which was usually “Thank you.” When I got off the phone, I couldn’t help but feel defeated and I cried.

Some might think crying equals devastation. But for me, crying is like sneezing. Something irritates you, you expel, and then you’re fine.

I went downstairs. Upon entering the family room, I realized that Iz’s Glam Vacation House still wasn’t finished. I noticed we hadn’t put all the stickers on. I picked up the directions, which were in a print so small I concluded they were crafted without much thought and in a foreign country, and I finished her house.



At that moment, as I sat on the floor, I wished I was seven again. I wanted to wake up tomorrow morning knowing that Love and Security were there. And, tonight, if I could speak to anyone I wanted, I would love to talk to my Mom and Dad and have them tell me that everything would be all right...once again. ♥