Oh man -- I have so much to tell you guys! So much happened over the past three days that I can't even keep up.
First up: Where the heck are my Canadian blogger friends? No one is keeping up their sites anymore. I thought I was bad, but Sugar and PHDiva hold the new title for longest sans blog.
Second: A BIG shout out to my U.S. blogettes! Cookie and Kelli, you ladies make me smile. I am so glad I started this blog. I have made some awesome friends via this blog.
Sunday was my first baby shower! So exciting! So overwhelming! So hard to get through sober!
My mom and sister organized quite the shindig. My crazy aunt invited all of her friends because she said that since she didn't have daughters, and only one of her two sons had provided grandchildren, then her friends owed her some respect and honour. This is hard to describe, but a predominant way of thinking in my culture. You must honour and respect your elders, that's easy. But you must also honour friends that you've known for many years. In other words, if your old friend invites you to her neice's baby shower, you better show up with a decent cheque. The consequence of not showing up, or worse -- not showing up and not sending a check -- are that my aunt will write you off and trash talk you behind your back to all your mutual "friends." The power of my aunt's catty tongue instills fear in many of the community women in that generation. Heck, even I'm scared of her and she's 4 foot 8!
Anyway, I don;t subscribe to this thinking. I know it's cruel but I think that my generation of Armenian women will all be happier when that old skool crowd becomes extinct. All the "shoulds" and "musts", not my style. I am pleasantly surprised at the generosity of friends. To me, when someone shows up to my party I am honoured. Just by their presence. That they would give up a precious Sunday afternoon and get to my folks house in the burbs just for me -- well that's gift enough!
That being said, I'm not above accepting gifts. I just don't think friendship is determined by the size of a cheque. I think everyone does what they can, within their means. What impresses me are greeting cards. I love a good card, one that's carefully picked out and thoughfully written. That to me separates my friends from my acquaintances. Acquaintances tend to sign cards with sparse, yearbook-style comments. "Best of luck, Joanna." That sort of thing. Boring. No personality, nothing about how long I've known you or what we've meant to each other. SuzyQ from work - I've barely known her for a year, and we've only become closer recently. She wrote the rockinest card about how she sits next to me and baby every day and feels like she and he are friends already. It's enough to make my heart smile.
There are a few cards worthy of standing up on my dresser and they all say something about the person who gave it to me. Blondie's (the prettiest and most heartfelt of course), Big J's (the funniest of course), Pipes' (a fab mix of funny and touching and cool), SuzyQ (surprisingly winning me over with each new look), Lady of Leisure's (empathetically funny, going through the same things herself), Crafty's (genuine, honest and caring) and Texas Martha Stewart's (really nice to look at because she cares enough to send the very best - heehee).
I also got a card from Formerly Known as Dings, who recently moved to Vancouver with her new hubby. It's on the dresser too because it reminds me how nice it is to be thought of and what a reflection that is of who I am. To have such wonderful friends... well I am truly blessed.
But these Armenian women - boy! They are so ready to stab each other in the back for a dollar store candle, it's crazy! We had separated into three rooms. My aunt's "friends" were in the living room, my mom's generation took the kitchen, and we young girls gathered in the family room. Sista Sunshine got us to play two fun games. The first one involved unmarked jars of baby food. You had to guess the flavours by scent alone. the second one was the one everyone enjoyed most. She had little diapers and inside each one she shmooshed up a different chocolate bar. It looked like poo. So you had all these girls sniffing diapers to figure out the choco bar inside. Funny! Great pictures I am sure.
For the last game we involved the older ladies too. You had to look at me and then cut a piece of yarn that you thought would fit around my belly. The crazy Armos were cheating all over the place, measuring from my ass to my belly button. Gimme a break. I'm still thinner than half of those meanie fat-asses. They were giving Sista Sunny and me a hard time. I wanted to kill them.
One of them, whose community nickname translates to Fat Seta, kept pulling me over to give me advice. "Don't wear those shoes honey, you'll tip and twist your ankle." Two seconds later I trip on her friggin purse. Jinx! She also told me I shouldn't be driving alone. When she finally left 2 hours after EVERYONE else, I asked my parents how her husband could have been married to her for so long. Grumps howled at that question. I think I actually called her a "fucking cunt" in front of my folks.
But all in all, it was a blast! I got lots of cash for baby's things, plus some great bonus gifts. Blondie got him his first teddy bear. I put that gorgeous bear in the crib already. This lady from New York, who looked straight out of the Sopranos, and whom my mother hadn't seen in 30 years but felt compelled to invite because she was in town visiting, brought me the most exquisite hand-knit sweater that she made herself. She apparently has a store in the Hamptons. She didn't take her giant shades off the whole time, which made for some good speculation amongst the young girls. My sister-in-law and Vibber got me a kit to imprint baby's footprints and hang on the wall. I always wanted one of those. Loula did that with Maya Papaya and I adore it. Crafty made up some cards that you put next to baby that say "Today I am 2 months old!" and take a photo. She also hand embroidered a fleece blanket with our family name on it. Texas Martha Stewart was in Vegas celebrating her b-day and couldn't come, but sent an elaborate basket of shoes and socks. DIY Diva knit a bib and gave a set of vintage kids books. Oh my, so much. Seems cheese to list it all here.
So I'll stop and just say thanks to everyone who came to celebrate with us. You made my day and knowing I have women like you around for support means more than anything else. A special thanks to my mom, aunt and sis for throwing me that shower-- a lot of work, but they did it with a smile.
Next time: My Yummy Mummy TV appearance