I hate letting my kids see me cry. If my 1-year-old sees me or her sister Sunny crying, she immediately starts crying as well, even though she has no clue why we are crying. All it takes is 10 seconds and we go from a happy family to a group of multi-generational woman crying for no reason – we’re like a Nancy Myers movie. Worse, though, is when my 5-year-old sees me crying, she gets all nosy and inquisitive and sometimes I just don’t want to talk about it. What am I going to say when the truth sounds so stupid? “Mommy’s crying because Kim Kardashian has decided she no longer loves Kris Humphries and she has to figure out how to deal with disappointing him and everyone who attended their wedding and I kind of feel bad for the guy.” Or ,“Mommy’s crying because Daddy found her credit card bill and she got caught lying about a major purchase and he was upset with her.” I’m not sure she would get that.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a little crazy when it comes to my favorite ’80s pop idols. Really, the only ones I ever really cared about were Michael and Whitney. Now, that’s just bad luck if you ask me. When Michael Jackson died, I ruined my husband’s birthday dinner by sitting in a corner downing drinks and crying uncontrollably as people slowly and awkwardly left the dinner one by one.
Last week, when Whitney Houston died, I played her music over and over again in my car while singing along to it and crying hysterically. I never write posts on Facebook, but I posted five posts in one day about how sad I was during Whitney’s funeral. I WAS THAT PERSON. My 5-year-old happened to be in the car when we discovered Whitney had passed. Sunny kept asking me, “Mommy, why are you crying?”
Now, clearly I am not going to tell her it’s because Whitney Houston took too many drugs and OD’d and died. So I had to tell her I was clearing my eyes by crying and that it’s a process that’s done once you are over the age of 10 in order to prepare you for good eyesight in your older age.
Whatever works, right?