Mama in New England
This is us, as I navigate motherhood and enjoy the amazing adventure.
We are a family of four, a cat and a dog, living outside Boston, Massachusetts. I started this blog as a way to update friends and family who are afar, but it seems to have become somewhat therapeutic & helps me laugh when I need to.
Monday, March 25, 2019
Bloody Mary
There is a (sub)urban legend that the third graders at my school seem to discover each year, the story of Bloody Mary. I have heard several versions of the story over the years so it wasn't all that surprising when Sam started reading the books Scary Stories and More Scary Stories this winter. I distinctly remember these from my childhood and tried to dissuade him, especially after he couldn't sleep one night, but he was determined.
One night recently after dinner, I was cleaning up and making lunches for the next day, when the children disappeared upstairs to play. I was listening to music and noticed that it had gotten quiet, but didn't pursue it. Suddenly I heard a wail and Lanie appeared, "mama! Vivian is scared! She no like Bloody Mair-we!"
As I approached the stairs, the wails became louder, and Lanie continued, "Bloody Mair-we is very, very sca-wy for Vivian. It makes her sad."
"Samuel!" I yelled. Silence.
"Sam!"
"Yes?" he finally answered.
I found Vivian crying and almost trembling at the top of the stairs. Sam was in his room looking very guilty.
Vivian told me some garbled story about a bloody queen who comes and takes children away and they disappear and then something about the curtains moving. Sam looked considerably more guilty. I finally got Sam in the shower and talked Vivian out of her hysteria and got her pajamas on. I turned on lullabies on my phone and went to get Sam's pajamas out.
"Oh, mama," Lanie says, "what is this song called?"
"I don't know Lanie, I'll look in a minute." I answered.
Lanie thought briefly, "is it called Mair-we?"
Vivian started crying again.
I got her settled again, went into the bathroom, gave Sam his pajamas and lectured him on scaring people. He seemed contrite enough.
I returned to start reading the girls their stories. When I finished and got them headed towards bed, Lanie asked for a Barbie that she likes to hold. I retrieved it and she said, with perfect innocence, "yes, her name is Sasha. No... I call her Mair-we."
Vivian's face crumpled, Sam burst into laughter.
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