German Omas
Neither my mother nor my partner's mother live nearby, so we have no Omas around to help us chase our little ones. The closest I have come is when I took my rueckbildungs course at Gold's Gym (which kicked my ass, by the way) - where they have two old ladies watching all the babies while the mamas sweat off all that cake they've been eating because their breastfeeding bodies are craving it more strongly than the non-lactating public could ever fathom. These old ladies were so sweet and grandmotherly, that by the end of the 8 week long course, I was sure I was going to the class only to have these ladies ooh and aah over how sweet my little princess is. These kinds of Omas are great.
Then there is the other kind of Oma. This is the old woman who glares at young mothers with this you-are-doing-it-all-wrong-you-young-bitch eyes. That kind of Oma infuriates me to no end. The other day, I zipped across the street to the bank, my little princess in the tragertuch (carry wrap thing). The weather in Berlin changes about as suddenly and often as a manic depressive changes moods, so, as usual we were not dressed appropriately. But, instead of going back inside, taking off the wrap, changing all the baby's clothes, putting her back in the wrap, and finding a sweater and jacket for myself, I decided that a two minute trip to the bank in slightly chilly weather wouldn't kill either of us. Well, I was just plain asking for it, wasn't I? Sure enough, the first old lady I passed, stopped, glared at me, and barked "KALT!" I always imagine doing some freaky hand gestures up close in their faces or yelling, "Mind your own business, you twerp!" but I always remain calm, composed, and considerate.
Just what gives these ladies, especially worse in packs, the feeling that they can stare, glare, and worst of all, comment, on how cold, hot, hungry, tired, and snotty my child is?
Then there is the other kind of Oma. This is the old woman who glares at young mothers with this you-are-doing-it-all-wrong-you-young-bitch eyes. That kind of Oma infuriates me to no end. The other day, I zipped across the street to the bank, my little princess in the tragertuch (carry wrap thing). The weather in Berlin changes about as suddenly and often as a manic depressive changes moods, so, as usual we were not dressed appropriately. But, instead of going back inside, taking off the wrap, changing all the baby's clothes, putting her back in the wrap, and finding a sweater and jacket for myself, I decided that a two minute trip to the bank in slightly chilly weather wouldn't kill either of us. Well, I was just plain asking for it, wasn't I? Sure enough, the first old lady I passed, stopped, glared at me, and barked "KALT!" I always imagine doing some freaky hand gestures up close in their faces or yelling, "Mind your own business, you twerp!" but I always remain calm, composed, and considerate.
Just what gives these ladies, especially worse in packs, the feeling that they can stare, glare, and worst of all, comment, on how cold, hot, hungry, tired, and snotty my child is?
posted by mama jens at 10:08 AM
3 Comments:
I've been living in Germany for 15 long years and in all that time, the German Oma's haven't changed one bit. No matter where you are, what the weather or what your child has on, some German Oma is going to tell you that he/she isn't dressed warmly enough. It seems to be an obsession with them. I don't think there's much we can do about it except either glare back or try to kill them with kindness.
Right'o! I know heaps of those second kind of Omis and they drive me nuts. A couple of days ago, I got out of the Tram (Straßenbahn...don't know whether you call them Tram in Berlin or not) and was waiting for the light to cross the road. Instead of staying on the pedestrain path, I went and stood on the road behind a parked car beside the path. The Oma who was also waiting for the light on the footpath just spat her venom at me: "Sie stehen gerade auf der Straße! Wissen Sie nicht, dass es eine Straße ist??!" Hehehe, being young and rebellious as I am, I just turned to her and gave her a mocking smile and asked her: "Wollen Sie ein Wettrennen zu der anderen Seite?" That got her foul mouth closing and gasping for some venomous words that came out as mumblings: "Kein Respekt...Jugendliche...etc." *LOL*
That's awesome!
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