Party Tricks

The coolest thing as a mother is when you can impress your child. And, as I understand it (I stand, mercifully 6 years from teenager-dom), those moments get fewer and fewer as you go, until you pretty much hope to not be an embarrassment. Right now, when it comes to his stepson, my husband Jim has the claim on cool. 100%. As a bachelor for 44 years of his life, he still has that childlike quality, an authentic jubilance and openness that cannot be faked. He does funny voices, makes outlandish jokes, remembers bits from Monty Python and hilarious vintage jingles. He's up for anything, athletic (sigh), and willing to veer off course at a moment's notice (sojourns that often end at the place with the best cupcakes in town.)

And I'm happy. I'm not jealous. Most of the time. Recently, when just my son and I were home eating dinner, I said, "Now that we've got some time just us, I'm here if there's anything you want to talk about? I know a lot has happened lately with my new marriage, all living together. Is anything on your mind?"

"Yes," said my son. I braced myself.

"Why is Jim so much funnier than you, Mommy?"

I've got nothin'. I'm the all business parent. Sure I come up with something entertaining once in a while, but mostly, I'm the bedtime-brush-your-teeth-now-clothes-in-the-hamper one. When I was home with my son (for the first year after he arrived from Korea), I had a few things to offer. I still have a card he made me in preschool that says "I love playing cars with you and hide and go seek with you, Mommy." (I pretended the cars were all going to a sock hop and had them dance on two wheels. Score.)

But, I guess, like pop stars, parents go in and out of favor. And I have to be happy (I'm over the moon) that my son loves Jim. (And especially when he also has a close relationship with his amazing father). Still, once in a while, I long for a comeback hit.

And finally, a few weeks ago, I discovered one. My son was playing with a Spock figure when he stopped to see if he could manage a vulcan grip. No luck. And I instantly new I'd struck gold. Because, in spite of my lack of coordination and inability to touch my toes in the cool-down phase of my workout tape - I can do a vulcan grip! YES! In the world of 6 and 3/4 year olds, where Bionicals and Bakugans are more valuable than shrimp cocktail and gold bricks, party tricks trump all. After years of hard work and even a stint as a lawyer, I was finally, finally rich.

It lasted a whole 20 minutes.

But I thought of my triumph again recently when I read a story by John Tomase on the Boston Herald's web site. Red Sox right handed pitcher Joe Nelson's career was transformed by...wait for it...his vulcan grip. Nelson grips the ball so deeply in his fingers that, according to Tomase, the webbing has worn down.

"Nelson joked that his agent told him when he signed with the Braves in 1996 that the pitch was a marketing dream," writes Tomase. “Last year more people talked about it because of the new ‘Star Trek’ movie,” [Nelson] said. “It’s one of those things where everyone’s got their own little thing. This is it for me."

I hope my vulcan grip isn't it for me. I hope I build a strong bond with my son as he grows up by being there for him, being honest, supportive, loving. That he respects and loves me for me, party tricks or not. But like Nelson, who's "battling for a spot in the Red Sox bullpen," I want to make sure that my roster spot in my son's life is safe. I wonder if he knows I can roll my tongue?