Enough with the Platitudinous Drivel
Filed Under All Posts, Parenting, Prudence Baird, Rants | 20 Comments
Triggered by her son’s question, Prudence unleashes a rant for our times
“Mom, is it true things happen for a reason?” Casey’s green eyes fringed by impossibly curly brown lashes widened with anticipation at the possible confirmation that some benevolent force is at work that can explain why bad things happen to good people.
“Who the fuck said that?” I snapped. Okay, I didn’t really say fuck, but I wanted to.
This pithy, saccharine saw lodges in my ears like the stinking turd of stupidspeak that it is. And whenever someone says it, whether the person is my friend or not, I cannot suppress my outrage that anyone dare to explain away the immoral, indecent, unfair and—in many cases—avoidable crap that rains down on perfectly lovely people and takes their lives, their health, their finances and even their children in directions that should only be reserved for those whose full names end in Cheney, Bush, Wolfowitz or Rove. Read more
The Hourglass
Filed Under All Posts, Family, Prudence Baird | 17 Comments
Prudence Baird paints a picture of mother and daughter—in roles rarely revealed
Two figures move as one under a hot January sun across the steaming asphalt of a medical building parking lot. This is the kind of day that brings hordes of winter refugees west following the televised New Year’s Day Rose Parade in Pasadena, California.
One of the figures is a frail old woman collapsed in a transporter wheelchair—a conveyance with four small wheels, made for transferring from place-to-place those whose self-propelling days are history. The other is a middle-aged stick figure; her veiny hands grasp the heavy rubber handles of the transporter, pushing her load gently in the unseasonably warm mid-morning air.
When the conjoined pair reaches an unwashed silver Volvo, the ambulatory woman expertly backs the transporter into the space alongside the passenger side of the car and stops. The middle aged woman—who, if you haven’t guessed by now, is me—rummages for her keys in a worn black backpack hanging by the handles of the conveyance. Read more
Scrambled Eggs
Filed Under All Posts, Family, Health, Prudence Baird | 11 Comments
Photo by Ana June
For Prudence Baird, dusty eggs, puppy love, and baby crack make a wicked brew with the potential for world peace
When our Irish twins*, born a mere 22 months apart, reached toddlerhood, my husband reports that I got that misty-eyed look that says, “I’ll trade you a month of blow jobs for another baby.” Able to see the writing on the wall (much of it in red ink), my intrepid partner did what most sensible men would do—he rushed out and got himself a vasectomy.
Even so, I hoped and wished for another child. With my breastfeeding years fast receding to the realm of “remember when” and sentimental boo-hoo sessions alone in my room, having a third child became my holy grail, my Turkish delight, my must-see TV.
I refused to pass along cherished baby clothes. I squirreled away cutsie bibs and blankies. Intuitively, I knew that as long as my ovaries were pumping out eggs, there was a chance—even if it meant reattaching my husband’s pipes myself using an emery board and tweezers. Read more
It Could Happen To You
Filed Under All Posts, Health, Prudence Baird | 15 Comments
Falling by Tom Bagshaw
Like a sign post that screams Watch Out!, Prudence zooms in on one of midlife’s challenges.
Falling. It happens to the best of us. One minute you are putting one foot in front of the other, and the next you’re on your ass. Or your face—with absolutely no idea how you got there so fast.
When young, falling is funny; slapstick even. Occasionally falling is painful, but having friends sign your cast or getting out of P.E. makes it all worthwhile. In fact, there’s a notorious t-shirt that mocks falling:
“I don’t have a drinking problem. I drink. I get drunk. I fall down. No problem.”
Ha-ha. Try that at age 54.
This brings me to the other morning when I heard a crashing and thrashing sound coming from the bathroom. Read more
The Evolution of Beauty
Filed Under All Posts, Beauty, Prudence Baird | 14 Comments
Prudence Baird shares an eye-opening video and her thoughts on beauty and aging.
How would your life have been different if you had seen this time-lapse video on the cusp of your own womanhood?
What if, as a young girl of 13 or 14, you had witnessed the impossibility of being that perfect face on the billboard? Would you still have lain in the sun to get that Bain de Soleil tan? Or, turned your legs (and Mom’s white sheets) orange with “QT” (aka Quick Tan)? Or stripped your hair with the spray-on Sun In, trying to look like those Nordic blondes in the commercials?
Would you have starved yourself to look like Twiggy or stretched your Dippity-Do gelled hair over soup cans to have Cheryl Tiegs’ smooth, waspy locks?
Me, I don’t think I’d have done anything different…I think I still would have broiled in the sun and sacrificed my personal development in order to please friends and boyfriends. I hope that I wouldn’t have, but as the philosopher Ouspensky said, “If it could have happened any other way, it would have.”
And, after all, what would be the point of being young if you listen to your parents’ wisdom and learn from their mistakes?
(If you are viewing this post in your mailbox, you must click on the title to get to the Fifty is the New website and view the video.)
Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag
Filed Under All Posts, Family, Humor, Prudence Baird | 10 Comments
After 15 years of marriage, and too many misplaced items to count, Prudence Baird insists her husband consider a new approach.
When I say I married a loser, I don’t mean that kind of loser. I’m talking about the kind of loser who loses things. Like keys, hats, sunglasses, cell phones, parking lot tickets, wedding rings—and most of all, wallets.
Like the clueless wife who finds that her husband has a gambling problem only after the repo man takes away the family Volvo, I found out that (let’s call him “Tim”) was a misplacer (nicer word, huh?) after we married. The first time it happened, I had no idea that this was merely Point A in an ever-lengthening trajectory that would arc across the time grid of our marriage.
I was in my home office churning out press releases when I heard the front door slam and heavy, frantic steps on the staircase. I emerged to see a man I didn’t recognize—a red-faced man, his salt-and-pepper askew; a man who hollered in my face: “My wallet is gone!” Read more
My Lovely Bones
Filed Under All Posts, Politics, Prudence Baird | 21 Comments
A doctor’s prognosis brings Prudence Baird face to face with her “inner old lady.”
I love my town. What’s not to love about a place where the local doctor goes by his first name (Dr. Walter) and hand-writes notes to his patients?
Recently, one of Dr. Walter’s letters arrived in the mail. I recognized the familiar scrawly handwriting that could only belong to a doctor.
“What’s in the letter from Dr. Walter?” asked my husband.
“I have no idea.”
“Shall I open it?” he asked, ripping open the envelope. “Oh,” he paused. “You have osteoporosis.”
Surely my husband wasn’t talking to me?
I quickly looked around for Sally Field.
Moi, osteoporosis? A flying nun’s disease? An old lady’s disease? How could this be? Read more
