Erma Bombeck & Me
During our most recent family FaceTime, my mother-in-law asked me if I had ever heard of Erma Bombeck.
“No,” I responded, “who is that?”
“Oh my goodness; she’s a writer! Your mom will remember her! She wrote a column, and she’s very funny. Your writing reminds me of hers!”
Hmmm, my interest was, how do you say—piqued. Erma Bombeck, ehh? And so, my quest was laid clear before me. Seek out this Erma Bombeck lady and begin my research.
First step, I opened my Skokie Public Library app and searched her name. Skokie Public Library has approximately two hardcover books written by Mrs. Bombeck. I placed them both on hold.
Today both titles became available, so my eleven month old and I scoot-scooted ourselves to the library to pick up the goods. Upon seeing the covers, I immediately burst into laughter. As a side note, it is no longer considered politically correct to use the term spirit animal, and I am very woke, so I will refrain. But does anyone know another term that would suffice? Maybe kindred spirits? I’m not sure; you be the judge.
I mean, hello?!? Dead ringer in every way.
It came as no surprise to me that Erma was slightly my senior. (See my piece from yesterday). And the title alone, c’mon, that is freaking hysterical and true!
On our drive home from the library, excitement mounted. Upon reaching my house, I tossed the baby in her crib for nap and decided to dig in! Erma, you sly fox. She is funny. Yes, her work feels a little dated… I read columns from the 1960s and beyond. But overall, I found the tone and content immediately familiar. This is further evidence that there is something universal about staying home to take care of a baby, regardless of the decade. I can appreciate that universality.
One of her essays written in 1965 entitled Lost Identity caught my attention. In it, she discusses why it’s so common for stay-at-home moms to lose their sense of self. She notes it is because parents who opt to take care of their kids full time are never alone. If you’re never alone, how can one appropriately self-reflect? She writes:
“Have you ever slipped out to the car and slumped down, only to have six beady eyes discover you and squeal, ‘we found her’? Have you ever locked yourself in the bathroom and watched entranced while a note slid under the door that read, Are the Popsicles frozen yet? Have you ever gone to dinner with a group of friends and been horrified to discover you mechanically buttered everyone’s bread and cut up their meal into bite sizes?” Yes, yes, and yes, Erma!
Honestly, I found a lot of her writing to be a touch depressing. Her essays each have a hint of sadness to them, just beneath the surface. Almost as though Erma regrets some of her life choices, but the writing is saving her.
She is certainly self-deprecating in the very best way. I seriously love how she can never find her keys! I love how she’s constantly desperate to be alone—attempting to hide from her family. And I can see how much I owe to her writing style.
But I can’t help but wonder if the decade were different, would she have chosen to write about something other than stay-at-home motherhood? Did she have greater aspirations and dreams?
To end with a quote from Erma, who upon further research I discovered battled a very serious kidney disease from the age of twenty until the time of her death, and endured daily dialysis—she said: “There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.” I couldn’t agree more, Erma! And with the utmost respect, please RIP.
Sincerely, your new fan and fellow chronic key-loser.