When D’s mother Martha was in college, some of her sorority sisters gave her the nickname “Martie.” They’ve continued to call her “Martie” over the years, and the reason why I keep putting the word “Martie” in quotation marks is because that’s exactly how Martha writes it. Every card, every letter, every note that we get from her is signed like this:

Love,
Mother
“Martie”

Personally, I like to think of “Martie” as Martha’s rap alter-ego, someone who would be featured on a hot new single called “Mother’s Got A Bell (A Ring-A-Ding Bell)” by Jay Z. featuring “Martie,” Ludacris and Justin Timberlake. As far as I know neither Martha nor “Martie” has any plans to enter the hip-hop scene, but I’ll be sure to let you know if that changes.

Anyway, Martha is as proud of her nickname as she can be; I think it makes her feel all young and fun and devil-may-care-ish. Many times when we have been out shopping I have overheard her talking to complete strangers about the texture of a bath towel or the cut of a jacket or the length of a strap on a purse, and inevitably, after she mentions that her son and daughter-in-law just love this town, just love it!, and then gives them a brief overview of our college days, early married years, and our current obligations and responsibilities with work and parenthood and whatnot, she’ll mention that her grandchildren call her “Martie” because that was her nickname in college and she always knew that she wanted her grandchildren to call her “Martie” because she was afraid if she didn’t ask to be called “Martie” they would end up calling her something like “Big Maw” or “Mar Mar.”

So after we wrapped up the festivities at Martha’s house on Wednesday night, after Martha apologized for the amount of food on her dinner plate because all she’d had to eat that day was a piece of caramel cake and certainly those four tablespoons of squash, two tablespoons of turkey and the half a roll were Terribly Excessive, we knew we had another big day-o-fun in store because D’s best friend, Todd – who also happens to be Alex’s godfather – was coming to town on Thursday so that we could meet his girlfriend, whose name just happens to be – can you guess it? – Marti.

!!!

Now see! Isn’t that more fun! We were going to have “Martie” and Marti! In the same place! Can you even imagine?!

Todd works in Los Angeles as a sound editor, and because of that we don’t get to see him nearly enough – what with the thousands of miles in between us and all. But he and D have talked almost every single day for the last fifteen years, so we don’t notice the distance as much as other people might. By the way, Martha always tells people that Todd “does the sound on the movies,” and it never fails to make me laugh because it implies that he is singlehandedly responsible for the fact that the world’s moviegoers can hear anything at all when we sit down to watch a show at the local cineplex or enjoy a DVD in the comfort of our homes. So thank you, Todd, for taking care of that for us. It must be a whale of a job.

So by the time Todd and Marti got to town, Alex was thoroughly confused about who was going to be with Todd. D and I tried to explain that Marti is a different person than the grandmother he knows as “Martie.” And when he finally met Todd’s Marti, Alex rectified the problem in a way that only a three year old could: he immediately called Todd’s girlfriend “New Marti.” And he called his grandmother, at least for the purposes of clarity, “Old ‘Martie.'”

At which point Martha no doubt wished that she’d just gone with “Big Maw” or “Mar Mar” when it came to her mamaw moniker.

From here on out I’m going to mostly let the pictures do the talking, but I have to say that Todd’s Marti, aka “New Marti,” is a total doll. She had been at Martha and Sissie’s house all of eight minutes when we started taking pictures, and I’m here to tell you that she just jumped right in and loved on them like she’d known them all of her life. D and I both hope that Thursday was just the beginning of many, many afternoons with New Marti. She’s warm, genuine, and real – LOVE HER.

Now around the sixth time that “Martie” said, “Oh, this is just more fun! I’m not used to having another person named Marti around! It’s so much fun! Isn’t this more fun?,” Todd got a little tickled, and it snowballed into one of those wheezing laughs that results in tears. And the more Todd laughed, the more Martha grinned and giggled.

Todd absolutely adores Martha and Sissie, as evidenced by the fact that he wanted his girlfriend to meet them. And with everything they’ve been through lately – Sissie’s broken hip, extended hospital stay, doctor’s visits, ongoing therapy, etc. – I think Todd and New Marti’s visit meant more than Todd and New Marti will ever know. “Martie” and Sissie were tickled to death, no doubt about it.

Sissie even had her picture made with them in spite of the fact that she wasn’t wearing make-up, even though Martha asked her several times if she wanted “a little lipstick? Do you want just a touch of lipstick, Mother? Just a little bit? Before you get your picture made?”

I do hope all of you noticed that Sissie has her bathrobe cinched at the waist with a black belt, because really, even at 96, there’s just no excuse for wearing a shapeless garment, girls. And there are no words to articulate how much I love the fact that she didn’t have her make-up on yet, but BY JEHOSEPHAT SHE TOOK THE TIME TO PUT ON THAT BELT. Yes ma’am she did.

And finally. This next picture sums up why the visit would have been worth it even if we hadn’t enjoyed our time with New Marti and “Old ‘Martie'” and Sissie (not to mention the delicious lunch that my mama cooked):

The whole day just made me happy.

And I’m all done now.

So we went to Mississippi.

And I don’t even know where to start, so I think I’ll just go with chronology. It’s not nearly as ambitious in terms of narrative structure, but it’s functional – which is about as much as my brain can handle right now.

We got to Mama and Daddy’s house yesterday afternoon, and Alex immediately started demanding things like Coke and Little Debbies and injections of sugar straight into his molars. But since it was the first time I’d been to Mama’s house during this particular holiday season, I chose to ignore my offspring (MOTHER! OF! THE! YEAR!) and take pictures of Mama’s Christmas decorations.

Now I know that the Christmas Tour was a couple of weeks ago, but I have to show you two things:

This is her tree. Sister decorated this year, and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier Christmas tree. I took many photos from various angles so that I can try to replicate the effect next year. (Of course, I’m kidding myself by thinking that I can in fact replicate it, because we all know that when next Christmas rolls around I’ll just stand in front of my blank tree, staring and trembling, and then I’ll end up calling Mama and Sister to ask them what to do.)

But pretend world is fun so indulge me.

This next picture is the most Southern Christmas decoration I’ve ever seen:

It’s on the light fixture in Mama and Daddy’s breakfast room, and I know that all you Southern girls just experienced a mild fluttering sensation in your hearts at the sight of all that mismatched antique silverware. And it’s perfectly fine if you think that it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, cuter than your own children, in fact. Because I love Alex and all, but he wouldn’t look nearly this good hanging from garland.

Here’s an obligatory picture of the child emerging from one of Mama’s voluminous bedskirts:

It should be no surprise that the bedskirt is pink. It should be a surprise that the bedskirt is not floral or toile, because I believe that there are four items in Mama’s house that are neither floral nor toile, but all of those four items are pink, because she is nothing if not consistent in her decorative scheme.

Oh! While I was there, I happened across an old picture of me with Santa when I was the age that Alex is now:

And then I happened across a picture of Sister when she was close to the same age:

Are we a bunch of genetically freaky clone people or WHAT?

My, this all must be absolutely riveting to read. Picture me jostling you awake now.

And oh my word I have to go to bed as it is now almost 11:00 and I haven’t even gotten to the part where we went to Martha and Sissie’s to exchange presents, much less the part where D’s best friend Todd brought his girlfriend (who is adorable) to meet us today and subjected her to lunch with my parents as well as TWO visits with Martha and Sissie, and seeing as how she’s from Minnesota and all, she must have thought she had been dropped straight into some Southern Gothic novel gone all wrong, gone all terribly, terribly wrong.

But here’s a picture of Alex with the first present Martha gave him last night:

It’s a stuffed lion. That sings “What’s New, Pussycat” when you press its paw.

And Tom Jones is very, very proud.

See y’all tomorrow.

More later once I tackle some laundry and get a particularly lively three year old into the bed.