So I post that picture (which I think is totally cute and fairly haunting and am now a bit hurt that nobody made a single comment about the picture itself...I thought people always commented about pictures...?) (not to take away from the thoughtful, funny and very much welcomed and appreciated comments that I did get prior to my whining here - thank you Hyphen Mama and CatrinkaS!) and I'm thinking about my childhood and what it meant to be a doctor's daughter, the pros and the cons, both then and now.
Well, then, Leo calls me just before 5pm today to say we got our carpets cleaned and they were still wet and let's just go out to dinner since all of our furniture is in one massive pile in the kitchen, leaving us with no where to sit until the carpets dry.
Okay, fine, so I meet Leo and Q in the parking lot of where we're going for dinner, and hey, there are my parents, too. Leo likes to invite people along on such outings, and that's fine with me. And I'm feeling all nostalgic about my parents, because of yesterday's post and also because of the comment I left over on Bea's blog about growing up as a doctor's daughter. I'm feeling especially nostalgic about my dad, and I give him a big kiss on the cheek as we walk into the place and I tell him I'm proud of him and he is both tickled by the show of affection and the flattery and also kinda wondering if maybe I've been drinking before dinner.
There were a whole bunch of people there, at this place we were eating. We ate in the back room, because the big front room was occupied by An Event. With a lot of little girls, like mostly between 4-10 years old, and their parents, and the girls are in party dresses and looking semi-formal and very pleased to be there. Guess what was going on, y'all?
It was the Doctor/Daughter Dinner for the local medical society! How freaky is that?!!!
And I don't talk about my blog to my folks, so I had to keep my astonishment on the down-low until I could sneak away tonight and tell you guys about it.
Seriously, that is kind of a funny coincidence. I mean, I have really not talked about that part of my life on here ever before, and then the day after I finally post about it, BAM! there's a whole room full of people living out the post I had just written, experiencing what it's like to be a doctor's daughter. Celebrating that very thing, no less.
And who else but my fellow bloggers would appreciate how much that would affect a person who had just written about being a doctor's daughter on her blog the day before?
Of course, I had to say something about how they never had one of those in that little town we lived in back in the day when I was the cute little doctor's daughter. But Dad said, yes we did, and I took you, and he wasn't even upset, he just said it very matter-of-factly. Well, Mom didn't recall it at all either. Then Dad said, "Yes, I took you and you wore a mu mu." At which point I was certain he was pulling my leg. But no, Mom backed him up on the mu mu thing...told me it was yellow and orange and I looked cute in it. Said she was surprised I liked those colors.
I was only 7 or 8, or thereabout. I WAS NOT FAT (that came later, with puberty). So why a mu mu?
Because, I have the great misfortune of having grown up in the '70's. When things like mu mus were in fashion. That's why. And it sucks. Because wonderful memories like that one get ruined by words like "mu mu". Ugh. The shame.
But anyway, see? I totally love my Dad (and Mom) and I'm still totally impressed with his incredibly sharp memory and no one, NO ONE, can beat that man at Trivial Pursuit and at 75 he still remembers what I wore to the Doctor/Daughter Dinner and he has earned every bit of goodness that he has gotten in this life. And more. I just wish, as I've made painfully obvious to anyone reading this blog, that I were one-quarter the person he is.
Sparkly and Magical, 2024 edition
2 days ago
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8 comments:
I think you can give yourself a little credit. As a doctor's daughter, you should know that you are at least 1/2 of the person he is.
In any case, not to worry. I think you're doing fine.
Great post. And hey, that picture on the last post? Too cute.
oh mu mus! don't feel bad, you were young and not in your complete state of adult reasoning. My MOM on the otherhand wears the mu mu she bought in hawaii willingly and frequently during the summer....I dont have the heart to tell her that is just NOT RIGHT. :)
OMG - mu-mu's! My mother wore those every day I can remember growing up when we lived in texas...
Thanks for the memories!
Whoa. That is crazy ironic. I thought it was crazy when I saw your post shortly after posting mine, but now this is just beyond weird.
Your dad sounds like a neat guy. He puts my husband to shame-- the guy doesn't like to drink water. Yes, water. So health reprimands will not be coming out of his mouth any time soon, I don't think. He's not as bad as doctors who are chain smokers, but really... he could be better.
I thought a lot about your post last night and I struggled with your comment on being held to a higher standard. I see my career as a way of defining whether or not I'm successful, but in reality, there are so many other things I should look to instead. When I was younger I was a dishonest, sneaky bugger. I'd cheat at Uno and I'd lie whenever I could. In elementary school I stole someone's lunch money so I could get ice cream. I think my mom was concerned about my personality. But I remember the day that I decided to change my ways. And now my integrity is something my mom boasts about. I don't think she tells many people I'm a lawyer. When people ask me what I do for a living, I sometimes cringe because I think it doesn't really answer who I am as a person.
You are an amazing mother and a sweet human being who has touched many people through this blog. If I met you on the street, I would just sense that you are a good person. So you're meeting a higher standard that you should be proud of. And I am sure your dad thinks so too.
I don't think my last comment really conveyed what I was trying to say. What I mean to say is ... you are still held to a high standard and you're meeting it. And whatever you were taught as a kid has stuck with you. I am sure of it.
I'm new to parenting, but I'm guessing that's part of being a parent--trying to instill morals and values into your kids and then letting go and crossing your fingers, hoping that your kids take your lessons to heart. That matters more to your parents than the profession you end up in.
Dontcha just hate it when people don't "get" out of a post what you intended?
I did love the picture of your brothers because it was cute how your oldest brother was mimicking what he'd seen your dad do.
I really think you aren't giving yourself enough credit. One's job title doesn't define them. Besides, people who don't already know you and love you regardless of your "job", don't matter. Those people you meet (at a party, or Q's school or whatever) who might be impressed if you said "I'm an attorney" or "I'm a DA" or "I'm a pediatrician"... does their opinion matter? I used to think it did. It took 5 years of having NO JOB TITLE for me to realize that a job title doesn't give one their attributes. It gives them a paycheck.
I think your dad couldn't care less if you're in IT, or a doctor, or a lawyer. You've already said that, now you should BELIEVE IT.
If you want to be an attorney, you should do it because more than anything in the world, you want to read cases upon cases and pick them apart to use them to defend or prosecute somebody.
How crazy was that!?! WOW! Anyhoo...give yourself a break...I have recently turned into a blog-stalker and I suspect there are more out there. Do not rate you or your blog on comments alone (I stopped doing that eons ago). Off to go look at your picture now!
It's so far past the point that it is no longer the point of anything, really - but for the record, I looked at the picture a long time and thought that you captured all of it so well in the post that there was nothing more to add - I mean really, specifically, i remember reading it... and looking... and thinking..."wow. Well said." And also wondering why the only photos on our walls were of studio pictures - that one, a snapshot, captures so much More.
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