Monday, October 5, 2009

of marriage and babies and such.

I came to the conclusion this weekend as I witnessed two very dear friends of mine pledge themselves to each other before friends and family that although I love the idea of weddings, in reality, when it comes down to attending I'm not a fan at all. I just seem to forget this when not there in the moment.

I'm infatuated with the idea of getting dressed up and the joviality and the romance of it all. This fantasy tends to shatter in the moment when I am faced with the grim reality of my own social awkwardness. That awkwardness was compounded this Saturday by a grinding headache resulting from a not-so-pleasant encounter with my car door. Imagine if you will, there I am feeling rather sexy and sophisticated, dressed to a tee, and as I lean into the car to place the gift in the backseat.. WHAM! Head meets door hard enough to draw blood, tears and a few choice obscenities. Life likes to take me down a notch every so often.

That said, it was a lovely ceremony. My own grumbles about social conventions aside, it's heartening to witness the hope and optimism that weddings bring, especially when you can see excitement written on the faces of the newlyweds as clear as though it had been written in sharpie marker.

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Yesterday while picking the girls up from their father's place, I ventured up to the highway to get gas and return some movies. It was there we had the unsettling experience of happening upon a pro-life demonstration that was taking place in front of the mall. My girls, both competent readers for their ages, began asking about the various placards reading such things as 'Abortion Kills Children'.

I can only imagine what was going through their heads. Was this something they should be concerned about? Was it perhaps some monster that eats small children in the night? What a subject to be broached on a Sunday afternoon in the car. *sigh* I attempted to handle the situation as diplomatically as possible, explaining as simply as I thought necessary for a 6 and 8 year old to process.

Being what I consider pro-choice (not the same as pro-abortion) I had a fantasy of running into Staples for bristol board and magic marker and creating my own placard in the name of presenting a dissenting opinion. (for some reason this fantasy involves me in a lawnchair smoking a cigarette - there must be some subconcious association between smoking and rebellion at work here). It could have been an opportunity to teach my children about speaking out on your beliefs. It could have also been an opportunity for my children to witness their mother in the midst of an idealogical melee, which wouldn't have been quite so cool.

So I drove home, feeling somewhat impotent and disappointed in myself. For as much as I may disagree with the folks out on the highway, they had the conviction to stand which was more than I could say for myself that afternoon.

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