Christmas is over...again. This year was different. Not bad different. I celebrated not having to do Elf on the Shelf. SOOOOO much less stressful. There was no playing Santa. Christmas Eve was nice, we did our tradition of a dinner and movie by the fire but it was anti-climactic. There was no cookies and milk left out for Santa, no excited children running up to bed so that Santa didn't miss our house. There was no tiptoeing and whispering while we placed the gifts under the tree.
Those days are behind us now. In some ways I am glad. It was a lot less stressful, and a lot less work. It's like you think it will never come - when you are in the midst of raising young children it just seems so LONG and sometimes it can feel so burdensome. Then you blink and the kids are suddenly big and you think What happened?
We put the gifts under the tree and headed to bed. I woke up at 4:30 am to use the bathroom. I woke my husband up, getting back into bed. I couldn't fall back asleep. I tossed and turned. He got up at 6:30 to use the bathroom and woke me up. It's an equal relationship like that.
He laid back down and I curled up into him and laid my head on his chest. We talked about the day and lamented about how tired we are. "Should we wake the kids up to open their presents?" he asked.
"No. We are never doing that. That is pathetic, parents waking up their kids on Christmas....we can go have coffee and wait."
The little one walked in before we stepped out of bed. SHE woke up her sister, which is acceptable. The kids walked downstairs, unenthusiastic. They were happy about their presents. We upgraded their phones to iphone 8s which really put them in a good mood.
Then, I spent my day in the kitchen. I made a big breakfast, then I cleaned up and started dinner. We host dinner every year and I stay busy the whole time. We do a big spread. By the time dinner had been cleaned up, leftovers packed away, and dessert served I was EXHAUSTED.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and went to join my family and relax. The minute I sat down, both my daughters and my husband came to me concerned. "We can't find the cat. The cat ran away. We looked everywhere!"
"And now you want me to get up and find him?" I asked.
They looked at me like, Yeah. Obviously.
I can't sit down for a minute. No. Just no. "Listen, if the cat is gone, there is nothing I can do about it. I'm sure he is just avoiding us because it's loud in here. Once everyone is gone, I will find the cat."
I ate my cookies, I sat by the fire, I had some good laughs. It was a nice holiday. After a while, everyone began to leave. I got up, gave hugs and said my good byes. Then, I went upstairs to put on my pajamas and find the cat.
I checked under his favorite chair. He wasn't there. I checked under my bed. I saw his eyes glowing. I smiled. Nothing is really missing unless your mom can't find it.
Now it is time to get ready for the new year. I am not a fan of resolutions but this year I want to do things for myself that I already should be doing.
1. Shave my legs once a week. I don't even remember the last time I shaved my legs. Ewwww.
2. Maintain my eyebrows. I pluck them like once every 6 months. Get it together.
3. Moisturize my feet. I have Jesus feet. They are gross.
4. Naps. As often as possible.
I really just need to get my shit together in general, but we all know that's not going to happen so I'm not even going to try. I'm going to keep my expectations low in 2018. I want to relax and laugh a lot, everything else is icing on the cake.
The other day, I was driving my daughter to gymnastics and we were talking about Christmas. She said, "Now that I don't believe in Santa anymore, I see how much everything costs and I feel bad for the parents. Christmas is really expensive."
Quite observant for an 11 year old. It's 5 days until Christmas. It's here again. I'm almost ready....the gifts are wrapped, the plans are made. The only thing left to do is the grocery shopping, which I'll do on Friday. I will be spending a lot of time in the kitchen over the next few days. That's my gift.
I sent a text message to my family a few weeks ago that went something like this: We are only purchasing gifts for the children this year. Holiday fellowship and Christmas dinner is our gift to you.
Man, I'm such an asshole. haha. I don't care though, I gave all my f*cks away years ago. I'm not buying presents for adults anymore. I just have too many family members. If I had like 1 sister, and my parents were married - then maybe I would buy gift for everyone. But holy hell, I have half a dozen siblings. I have 6 nieces and nephews that I buy for. That's only between 3 siblings. Half of my siblings will still have kids. Once we have 8 or more nieces and nephews, we are going to do on-years-off-years. One year, half of them will get gifts for Christmas...the next year, the other half will. haha
I can see myself now, in seven years, talking to my cute, wide-eyed, future nephew. "I didn't get you a gift this year because I'm putting two kids through college, so I'm going to need you to appreciate that. Have a cookie." I won't even feel bad about it.
The thing is, Christmas just gets entirely out of hand. It is expensive enough just to provide gifts to your own biological children but then you add nieces, nephews, parents, grandparents, your spouse, friends, co-workers, teachers, coaches, the mailman......
Seriously, look at this holiday tipping guide:
For Those Who Help With Your Home
Housekeepers: Up to the cost of one cleaning. If a head cleaner uses a team, consider tipping the teammates individually.
Trash Collectors: If there are no local restrictions on tipping public-service employees, give $10 to $25 per person.
Lawn Maintenance/Landscaper: $20 to $50
Pool Service: Equivalent of one week’s service
Apartment Superintendent: $20 to $80. You can give more if you think he or she has done a stellar job this year.
Doorman: $20 to $100. Whatever you give, consider giving each doorman the same amount to be fair.
Parking or Garage Attendants: $10 to $50
Handymen, Exterminators, other Home-Service Providers: $20 to $100
For Those Who Take Care of Your Loved Ones
Day Care Teacher: $20 to $70, plus a small gift from your child.
School Teachers: Small gift or gift card. Avoid cash, in favor of contributing to a class gift or gift certificate. Don’t forget to gift the teacher’s aide or paraprofessional.
Principal, School Nurse, School Secretary: Small gift or card.
Bus Driver, Lunch Aide: $25
Babysitter: An evening’s pay, plus a small gift from your child.
Nanny: One week’s to one month’s pay, plus a small gift from your child.
Pet Sitter/Dog Walker/Groomer: A cash gift equivalent to one service.
For Those Who Drop Off Your Packages
U.S. Mail Carrier: Per federal regulations, you can only give them a gift worth $20 or less.
UPS/FedEx Delivery Person: $20 to $25, or a small gift. FedEx drivers are allowed to receive tips and gifts under $75. While UPS prefers drivers to receive gifts, it leaves it up to the customer’s discretion.
Newspaper Delivery Person: $10 to $30
No. I mean, not just the SIX teachers of my ONE child but the secretary, principal and school nurse? NO. A $20 gift to the mail man? NO. Actually, f*ck the mail man. The mail man gets a pension, is ALWAYS delivering the neighbor's mail to me and I have to go deliver it to them, he delivers my amazon packages to the neighbors CONSTANTLY and I have to always track them down. The mailman needs to get ME a $20 present to make up for the time I spend correcting his mistakes.
I'm not saying that you shouldn't get gifts for people you appreciate. If you have so much money that you wipe your ass with $20 bills, then you should absolutely tip your housekeeper and pool maintenance people handsomely but normal people totally overextend themselves this time of year because there is this EXPECTATION that you have to buy a present for everyone in your life that you appreciate and love. It puts a lot of pressure on people and it's absolute garbage.
The commercials this time a year are ridiculous as well. Jewelry commercials are the worst. "If you want your wife to FINALLY blow you, you should buy her this diamond tennis bracelet. Interest free financing for 36 months......" That's enough to make anyone go full MGTOW. Is that really the message that we are sending out? That your girlfriend/wife won't love you as much unless you get her an expensive gift for Christmas? Is this who we are as a society? I'm just not into all that.
People don't want to say "no" because they don't want to look like a Scrooge or they don't want people to think they can't afford it, or they feel obligated to..... F*ck that.
If you are still paying for Christmas in March or April, then you spent too much and next year you just need to not get people shit.
Why do people walk around at Christmas like they don't have student loans and electric bills to pay? It's just getting out of control and I'm opting out. I spent about $200 each on my kids (which I think is too much) and $16 on my husband. Don't feel bad for him though. He just got a smart TV a few months ago, and Assassins Creed....and everything else he wants. Lord knows we all have enough already, we are very blessed.
I hope my family/friends take any money they would have spent on us and spend it on themselves. Treat yo' self. That would make us happy.
We will focus the next few days on the things that bring us joy. We'll go see the Christmas Lights, watch holiday movies, sing carols. eat delicious meals and spend time with our family, and most of all, we will count our blessings.
I posted this almost a year ago. I felt it fitting to re-post. If you care to skip, scroll down to the bottom for tonight's post.
Falling Down - December 16, 2016 I don't brag on my children often enough. Mostly because it's obnoxious and no one cares. But today, in the midst of of horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad week; I'm going to brag on my kids.
My youngest daughter is a gymnast. Gymnastics is her life. Four days a week, I pick her up from school and I drive her straight to the gym. She puts up her hair and eats a snack on the way there. She practices for 3-3.5 hours, depending on the day. She comes home, eats dinner, does homework and goes to bed.
It is so physically demanding. There are some days that she takes a hot shower and I message the knots out of her back and shoulders. I rub her down with Bengay. Some days she comes home with rips on the palms of her hands. She has 5 right now. Sometimes, when gymnasts work on bars, the skin on their palms literally just rips open and bleeds. We wash them, put antibiotics on them and do hot tea compresses. Still, she practices bars.
When she broke her finger in July, the doctor told her that she had to stay off her hand for 10 weeks and she was devastated. She could not train on vault, bars or do any tumbling. She went to practice anyway- conditioned to keep her muscles strong and did what she could. Once she was cleared, she has worked hard to play catch up. She just moved up levels and had new skills to master. Bars have been a challenge for her. She fell from the high bar quite a few times. She's doing private lessons now just for bars. She does gymnastics 13 hours a week.
You NEVER hear her complain. NEVER. She loves it, would do 7 days a week if she could. In addition to her grueling training schedule she somehow manages to pull straight A's. I don't understand how she does it. I tease her when she brings home her grades. "Really? You only got a 102 on this test? You should have gotten a 105! How are you ever going to get in college with grades like these?"
This past weekend, she had a competition. She is not competing in bars right now, which means she is taking a 0 in that event. There are 4 events - it is a quarter of the score. So, she knows by default her overall ranking is going to low or last. You have to get a near perfect scores in all other events.
She went out there and tried her very best. I thought she did great. She's really improved and I was crazy proud of her. Her scores were good, but not fantastic. When they did awards, she didn't place in any events (which she is not used to). When they ranked over all, she was in last place. The very last slot.
We watched her standing there up there, which her chest out and her chin up but with a look of humiliation and defeat. I could feel my heart sink into my stomach.
We met up with her afterward, and she was silent. She is not a crier when she gets upset. She gets angry. We sat down in the car and no one said anything for a while. At last, I said, "I thought you did really good. I'm proud of you." She put her head down and talked quietly, "You have to say that because you're my mom. I let my team down. I'm not any good." "That's not true! You just moved up, you're playing catch up from your injury. You're a good gymnast. You have a lot more competitions." "Just don't talk, mom," she yelled. Then, she proceeded to stare out the window listlessly. I was emotionally disturbed.
We picked up Jimmy Johns for dinner (she LOVES Jimmy Johns) and went home. I let her be. She ate, took a shower and got into her pajamas. Later, she came into my room. She was hurting. She climbed into bed with me. "How are you doing, baby?" "I'm okay." "Wanna watch your videos from the competition?" She shrugged. "Sure." We watched them and she was so hard on herself. "I bent my leg here, didn't land that good, that dismount is terrible!" I closed my computer and she sighed, "I'm going to have to work on this, this, this, and this...." My heart ached. "There are many gymnasts who will never know what it's like to stand at the top podium. You have been very lucky. You've had a lot of challenges this season. Keep going. You can do it!" I don't know if she was convinced but she gave me a half hug and went to bed. Then when practice rolled around the following week, she walked into the gym confidently. To push herself harder, to do better, to try again.
I am so impressed by her. By her ability to get physically, mentally and emotionally beat up regularly and just keep moving. She is strong as hell. She is fierce. I love her so much. I know before long she will be swinging from that top bar like it's nothing. I'm going to be cheering her on from the stands!
It's not been a better week for my 12 year old. She is all about music and band. In between gymnastics runs, I am shuttling her home from band practice. She is always playing her flute. She has been preparing for all-county auditions. I found myself last week humming the audition solo. That's how much I hear it. I've had to institute a no-flute playing policy in the car. It sounds good but it so LOUD. "Can I just finger the keys then?" she asked.
When she is not playing the flute, I have to hear about the flute. About how much she wants a new piccolo, about the new classical music piece she's discovered. She has grown very fond of classical music and orchestras. I'll go into her bedroom in the evening and she'll be on the floor with paper's all around her and headphones shoved in her ears. "Whatcha doing?" She'll look up at me and say, "Just finishing homework and listening to some Bach." Not something you would expect to come out of a seventh grader.
The audition day came around and she cried afterward and told me she bombed it. She over exaggerates, so I wasn't sure. "Let's just wait and see," I told her. That pacified her.
I found out before she did and I locked myself in my bathroom and had a good cry for 1/2 an hour. I knew she would be devastated. The results were to be posted at school right before lunch so I brought a pizza and took it to school to have lunch with her that day. I sat at the back of the cafeteria with a knot in my stomach, waiting. She walked through the door with tears streaming down her face. I pulled her out into the hallway and she collapsed into me. I had to hold her up as she sobbed. She is my crier. I think to say she was devastated is an understatement. We stayed out there for what seemed like a long time. I didn't say anything. I just let her cry. Then I told her to go into the bathroom and wash off her face. We went in to eat our pizza.
She didn't say much, she pouted and took small bites. She told me how disappointed she was and that she was embarrassed. What can you say? I don't tell my kids that it's okay. Because it wasn't okay. It was painful. "You'll get through this. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next week but eventually you will. You just had a bad audition - that doesn't mean that you're a bad musician. Heck! Micheal Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team." "Can you please take me home?" she asked. "Yes." I did, I signed her out. She would have been worthless at school the rest of the day, anyway.
We drove home in silence. She stared out the window, despondent and wiped tears from her cheeks. I was dying inside.
She went up to her room for a while and then came out in her pajamas. She came in and sat on the edge of my bed. She was puffy and looked completely empty. "I just want to go to sleep." "You can, baby. Lay down."
She slept for a while. I woke her up to tell her I was leaving to pick up her sister and take her to gymnastics. "Don't leave me. Can I come with you?"
We dropped off her sister and then she asked if we could got to Starbucks. "I need chocolate and caffeine." "Me too! This week has been horrible. It's been like shitty McShitShit." "Yea! Today sucks. It's the worst EVER!" We chuckled. It really has been terrible.
She had dance that evening and even though she REALLY didn't want to go, she put on her tights and leotard and went. She was in better spirits when I picked her up. She chatted excitedly about a new dance she learned and her friends.
I went into her room before bed that night and I laid down next to her and played with her hair. "How are you doing?" "I'm okay." "You ready for school tomorrow?" "I guess." "You will get through this. You just had a bad audition, not a bad life. You walk into school tomorrow with your head held high and if anyone tells you that they feel bad for you-you smile back and them and you tell them "Don't." You turn your disappointment into hunger-to do better and to work harder. Be strong, and be fierce!" She smiled, "I'm going to do it." "And I know it's super hard but be happy for the people who did get in. It's good juju." "Like juju on that beat?" Then she said something that I did not expect. "I'm going to go to the concert and cheer them on." I was like, Whoa! You don't need to do that. That's going a little overboard. "Are you sure you want to do that?" "Yes. I just had a bad audition but a lot of my friends did get in and I want to watch them perform and support them." THAT- ladies and gentleman- is what you call a class act. She may be my crier but she is STRONG and above everything else, she is kind. I love this child so much. Then, she added, "Can we bring cute high school band boy with us? He might want to go too." Cute high school band boys make everything better.
The next day, when I pulled in front of the school, I gave her a big smile. "Hold your head high and BE FIERCE!" She gave me a smirk and a nod.
It is so hard to see your kids struggle. To see them deal with defeat, disappointment, heart-break, self-doubt; to know that there is nothing you can do to take it away. When they were babies I thought it was HARD. The sleepless nights, the monotony of life. But this is what is REALLY hard - the helplessness of being a parent of older children. To not be able to fix and take away their pain... and it is only going to get harder from here.
This is life. Life is full of loss and disappointment. I mean, get used to the taste of shit because life will serve you one shit sandwich after the other -guaranteed! They have to go through these times to grow as people, to learn to cope, to develop a sense of humor and mild depression like everyone else. You can't appreciate the good times without the bad.
It is easy to be proud of your children when they are doing well. When they bring home awards, and accolades and straight A's. It's easy to be proud when they are winning. I am proud of them always. Even when they are losing, even when they are last last place. To see them fall down but pick themselves up and keep marching forward, to watch them walk through their losses and disappointments with the commitment to do better and not give up, to smile even when things seem bleak - THAT is a reason to brag and be proud. Damnit! I am.
I love these girls and can't wait to see what they'll do next. Reflections- December 14, 2017
The past few weeks have been especially busy for us. Two Friday's ago, my daughter performed in the Nutcracker. We went to see it last year and she jumped at the opportunity to audition this year. She was picked to be an Archangel. The Friday afternoon of the performance, I picked her up early from school and drove her downtown to the theater. It was held at the Sottile Theater which is an absolutely stunning venue.
We explored the bowels of the theater until we found the dressing room for the angels. There was a vanity table with a mirror and lights. She set her things down.
"Okay, get on your leotard and tights."
She pulled out her leotard and tights and then looked up at me, panicked. "Mom, I grabbed my black leo instead of my nude leo."
"What? How did this happen? You grabbed your new tights. The leo was in the SAME bag."
"I don't know. What am I going to do?" She was 2 seconds away from a nervous breakdown.
"Put on your black leo for rehearsal and I'll go get your nude one. Just be calm."
"I'm so sorry mom....."
"It's okay," I replied, while literally running out the door. I was annoyed but what could be done? She had to have it.
I don't live right down the street. It's a 25 minute drive with NO traffic and it was a Friday afternoon at 3:30. I knew I was f*cked. Somehow, by the grace of GOD, I got home, grabbed the leotard and got back downtown in 53 minutes. Then, I had to drive all the way back home to feed kid #2, meet up with my husband and get dressed for the performance.
So my Friday afternoon looked like this: drive from home-to downtown-to home-to downtown-to home-to downtown. It SUCKED hard.
By the time we got downtown to watch the performance, the stress of my hectic afternoon had melted into excitement. We were ushered into the theater and took our seats. It was a few minutes before curtain and I turned to my husband and said, "I think I'm going to get a glass of wine."
As soon as the words left my mouth, the fire alarm rang out and they evacuated the theater. This is the kind of sh*t that only happens to me. So, we were ushered outside and the crowd huddled together on the sidewalk. A bunch of firetrucks showed up. Our daughter came to find us. She looked so pretty in a gold dress, gold glittery head piece, and full hair and make-up. She really did look like an angel. We hung out for a while until they cleared the theater and let us back in. The show started an hour later then scheduled, but the show must go on.
I hugged my daughter. "Break a leg!"
It was a great show. My daughter performed in the second act. The curtain came up and there she was- with the other angels, doing leaps and turns. I was insanely proud of her.
We met up afterwards. "You did great. I brought you flowers but I forgot them at home because it was a crazy day." I'm the worst mom ever.
She laughed, "That's okay. But mom, remember when we came to see the Nutcracker here last year?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I said that I wanted to dance on that stage one day and I did it."
I smiled, "Yes, you did."
We rolled up to the house at 10:45 pm. I was exhausted. My youngest went on to bed. My oldest dropped her dance bags at the door and declared, "It's time to play my flute."
"It's so late. You have to march in the parade in the morning. We have to leave here before 8."
"Mom, I have to. I'll get up. It will be fine."
I fixed her dinner (she was too nervous to eat what I had packed) and she ate and practiced her flute. She finally showered and went to bed around midnight.
We were up bright and early the next day to get her to the school for the parade. My husband and youngest met us for the parade and my little one was made out like a bandit with the candy. The mayor handed her a full size Hershey bar.
My husband leaned into me, "You want to be mayor- don't you?"
"Ummmm, no. I want like, a thousand naps."
After the parade, he took the youngest home to pack for her gymnastics meet and my oldest had band pictures, followed by a mock audition, followed by a flute lesson. After ALL that, I drove her to her dance friend's house because we were going out of town for her sister's state gymnastics competition and she had to dance the following day at Christmas Made In The South.
I drove straight home, ate quickly and then we loaded up the car and made the 3.5 hour drive to Greenville. We had one of our daughter's teammates and her mother with us and we had a good time chatting and listening to music. By the time we got to the hotel, I was deliriously tired. I don't even remember walking up to the room. I slept for 10 GLORIOUS hours. I woke up refreshed and ready. It was the last meet of the gymnastic season - state.
I got up before my husband and daughter and went down to treat myself to a waffle and a cup of coffee. When I came back up, my daughter was out of the shower and in her leotard. "Do you want me to do your bun?"
She rolled her eyes at me, "Ewwww. No." That's my kid.
We got to the gym and checked in. She was a little nervous but was in good spirits. We took our seats in the stand and waited. Gymnastics competitions are sitting for 2-3 hours to see your kid perform for a total of 5 minutes. They did floor first. I was so nervous for her. I act like an insane person when she competes. I can barely watch. She did a beautiful routine and we waited for the score - 9.45. We were like:
That's pretty good. She'd be one to beat.
They did the other events. Bars is the event where she struggles the most. Last season was ROUGH for bars. She wasn't even competing bars this time last year. She worked so hard to improve, last season she was doing private lessons on Saturday mornings, she set small goals for herself - jumping to the high bar, improving her casts....At the last state meet she got a low bar score but she was happy. She completed the entire routine. We celebrated progress.
She completed her bar routine - it was in the low 8s. Not enough to place in that event but she met her goal. She aims for 8's and above. The last thing she competed was beam. I watched her during warm up. She did a hand stand, stood back up and looked straight at me. "We have to move. She can't see me while she competes. I'm going to make her nervous." I moved to the other side of the gym. I'm superstitious like that.
She did a beautiful routine. We were proud. We made our way to awards and waited for her division to be called. She didn't place in bars but she placed 6 in vault, 2nd on beam, and then we waited for floor. The girls were called up one by one and then they announced, "and your state champion for floor......"and they called my daughter's name.
I watched her come from behind the curtain and stand on the top podium. They put the medal around her neck, then she thew her hands in the air, looked right at me and smiled. I cried. I watched her get so beat down last season, I watched her struggle so much and she needed a win. She has worked her ass off. I felt so much joy in that moment.
Afterwards, we met up and gave her congratulatory hugs. "I saw you, mom. Why were you crying?"
"Because I was so happy." She didn't roll her eyes at me - but she did smirk. It was a good day.
She is not competing in the spring. She is going to focus on bars and upper-level skills which will be good for her. Gymnastics nationals are in North Carolina this year, I'm going to take her for her birthday. I think we are going to send her to UNC for camp this year-lots of exciting things happening. She wants to do gymnastics in college. Statistically, it's a long shot. But you know what? I don't care- if that is her dream, then she should go after it. Nothing is impossible. I can't wait to see her do her upper level skills. She is a tough cookie and I am so damn proud of her.
The following week was busy too. Full of holiday preparations, doctors appointments, band practices, dance rehearsals...and always gymnastics. All-County band auditions were Saturday. I am still completely traumatized from last year.
When my daughter didn't get in, she was devastated. She was the only flute that did not get in. She was last chair. She was depressed for weeks, she was felt completely beaten down and devastated. But then she stood up and said, "Screw this! I'm a good flute player!" It lit a fire under her. It prompted us to invest in flute lessons. What a blessing it has been! She LOVES her flute teacher. He is like a celebrity to our family. He helped her improve so much, he believes in her, he pushes her. Her band directors encouraged her. She's had a lot of support and she has worked her ass off.
She DID go to the concert- the only flute not included, and she was happy for her friends, she waved from her seat, she enjoyed the music, there was not a tear. I knew then, that she was strong. She practiced, and practiced, and practiced. She's become a little obsessed. When she attended music camp in the summer, she auditioned and got into the upper level band. She auditioned for a solo and got it. It was awesome to see her stand up and play her solo at the end of camp performance. We celebrated the small victories.
So, here we were again- All-County auditions. She's been playing and playing and playing. I'm talking over an hour a day after school. HOURS on the weekends. "Do you think you'll get in?" I asked.
"Yeah, I just want to get in. I think I can get in the top 5. If I can get in the top 3, I'll just die."
"Well, don't do that," I said.
The day of auditions came. I picked up some of her friends that were auditioning and we made the 45 minute drive. She unpacked her flute, played her scales and her solo and then went to audition. "I love you. You play a beautiful flute, just do your best - I'm proud of you no matter what." Then, I watched her walk out the door. I waited nervously. I could barely stand it. She came back, cool as a cucumber.
"How did it go?" I asked.
She shrugged, "I think I did good."
Well, okay.
After the kids auditioned, we went to Taco Bell (I know, gross but delicious at the same time) for a quick lunch and then my daughter changed into her dance costume in the car because she had a performance that afternoon. We dropped off kids and went straight there. That's our life.
We waited a few days for the results. It was nerve wracking. Rumors swirled. On Tuesday, my youngest was invited to lunch to celebrate a friend's birthday so I went to the school to wrap up some loose ends with the band fundraiser. I think I low-key harassed the band director about posting results.
At the end of the day, he got the green light. He printed them out but wouldn't let me see them until he posted them. I looked up and I saw my daughters name at the top. Not only did she make it into the All County band this year, she is first chair. I just couldn't handle it. I cried.
I texted her right away: HE POSTED ALL COUNTY RESULTS.
WHAT CHAIR AM I?
COME DOWN AND SEE.
It didn't take her long. She ran up, saw her name and smiled. Then she saw me and she ran over, threw her arms around my neck and sobbed. Deep sobs. All of her disappointment, frustrations, hours and hours of practice and work seemed to pour out of her. It was like a long exhale after holding her breath for an entire year. It was vindication. I was so happy for her. Words cannot describe.
But now, it's time to look forward. She saw her score, "I need to get 13 more points. I want to make all-state call backs. Just 13 points. I can do it. Then Governor's School Audition, then after that I need to start working on my high school scales....."
She wants to do music. Making all-state call backs is a lofty goal but you know what? Go for it. Why not you? Anything is possible.
I think my kids have learned a lot this year about persevering, about hard work, about not giving up on your dreams, on getting up after being knocked down, on turning your failures into opportunities. They are young-their books have not been written. I do believe that the world is full of abundance and that nothing is impossible. This life is not a sprint, it is a marathon. Everything happens for a reason. I just feel so blessed that I get to walk it with them. They are my dream, my passion, my greatest life's work. I love them so much.
They need to stay humble, stay focused, and set new goals. I'm a sucker for happy endings and I'm so glad they both got one this year.
My kids are driving me crazy. Is anyone surprised? No. No they are not.
Last Monday, me and my youngest almost came to fisticuffs over a school project. There are some things I like about online school but they have too many projects and it's super annoying because my youngest is always trying to be half-assed and I constantly have to keep her on task.
Usually, her teacher will do a live recording that tells you step-by-step of how the project is supposed to be done, expectations, ect. and she never watches them. She'll ask me for help with a project and I'll say, "Did you watch the recording?"
"No. I don't need to."
"Ummmm, yes you do. Instead of putting all this work in and then not doing it the way they want it done and then having to spend more time fixing it, you could just watch the recording and it will save you time and you'll know what you are doing."
I always get an eye roll or a sigh. I'm just trying to help her out. I'm not being a hard ass. I was trying to review her project before she submitted it and I suggested some changes. Yelling ensued back and forth and you want to know what she said to me? She said, "What do you know? You just went to college to learn how to touch people's boobs."
I lost it on her.
I screamed my curriculum vitae at her. "Ummmmm, that's a gross oversimplification of my job. I did not go to college to touch breasts. I actually have a bachelors degree in Human Ecology and a minor in English. I was the president of my honor society. It took me over five years of studying, obtaining over 1,000 clinical hours AND passing an international certification test to become a lactation consultant AFTER I graduated from college. And you know what? I had an actual career that I have put on hold so that I can be here with you and your sister. I actually F*CKING know things. Okay? Maybe you could take some of my suggestions without insulting me."
I really did tell her that "I actually f*cking know things." haha. I'm a terrible mother.
I'm of average intelligence but I can help with 6th grade school work. I'm not a dumb dumb.
She did not care. She just looked at me like,
She did take my suggestions and guess what? She got a 100%. Boo yah!
While I was recovering from that battle, I'm getting text messages from my oldest begging me to pick her up from school because she was having severe abdominal pain. This was the text:
Mom I'm having a horrible stomach ache I went to the nurse and she gave me a cracker and told me I'm going to be fine but it feels like I'm going to throw up
The thing with my oldest is that you can never be sure what is going on and how serious things are because she could have a paper cut or her finger could be cut off and her reaction will be the same. I picked her up and quizzed her about her symptoms and it sounded like a bladder infection.
I dropped my youngest off at gymnastics and took her to urgent care. They examined her, had her pee in a cup, the whole sha-bang. Then the nurse practitioner comes in to examine her and she acts like it's not that bad. "You better have something wrong with you if you begged me to pick you up from school and I paid to take you here." The nurse practitioner looked at me like I was an asshole, which I definitely am.
"Well, it appears that you have kidney stones. How much water are you drinking a day?" she asks my daughter.
My girl shrugs, "I dunno, I drink all day."
If there is one thing I've learned about teenagers, it's that they give vague answers ALWAYS. It's some kind of teenage defense mechanism. "You have homework?" "Sorta." How do you sorta have homework? What the hell? My mom can't ride my ass if I tell her I sorta have homework...
I knew this nurse practitioner would get no where with this line of questioning. I turned to my daughter. "You bring a water bottle to school everyday. How many of those water bottles do you drink every day?"
She thought for a minute. "One."
The look on my face must have scared her because she quickly changed her answer to "One and a half."
"Dude! You need to drinking like, 6-8 water bottles a day! Your body is THIRSTY!" She smirked, you know, because I called her thirsty which is slang for desperate.
We left and headed to CVS to pick up medicine and I had to go in and get toothpaste. We walked into the store and that when it started. "Oh, mom.....I need mechanical pencils." Won't use regular pencils, because she's boujee like that. "I'm not paying $5. I'll get you some from the Dollar Store." She protested. "But I only have ONE left."
She always does that to me. We will be in a store and will declare she is out of something and that's the first I've heard of it. "I need this fancy shampoo with organic argan oil because I've been out of shampoo for 3 days."
"How about this other shampoo that is on sale and isn't $10 a bottle?"
Eye rolling, "Ugggh! You know that makes me get dry scalp. I have sensitive skin, mom you KNOW that!"
I was irritated, "Why do you always wait until the very last minute to tell me you need something?" I asked.
"I forget. I have other things in my head, you know," she replied.
"Like what? Youtube videos of Let it Grow But Every Time It Says Grow It Gets More Distorted?"
She laughed and laughed.
When my kids were younger, they would make me stop whatever I was doing and I would have to tour all the things they built on MineCraft. Now, they do the same thing to me except with weird Youtube videos. "Mom, watch this. Mom, look at this one." I stop what I'm doing and watch a music video that is sung out of tune or whatever they are amused by. I swear if I have to hear "Cookin' by the Book featuring Lil Jon" one more time I might loose my mind.
I got my toothpaste and a half a gallon of milk and she started begging me to buy her chips. "No. We will be home in 5 minutes. NO." She hung on my shoulders, "PLLLLEAAASEEE." I walked toward the register and she was hanging on my arm, which probably looked ridiculous since she is a inch taller than me. "Why can't you just be cool and buy me some chips?"
"Because I'm not cool. I'm your mother, not your friend," I said, as I put the milk and toothpaste on the counter.
The cashier looked up at me. "You're her mother? I thought y'all were twins." My daughter was so triggered, she was highly offended.
She obviously needed glasses. I laughed soooooo hard. I guess it wasn't such a bad day after all.
It's 8:30 and I am in my pajamas, in bed with a piping hot mug of cocoa on my nightstand. The house is mostly quiet except for muffled sound of sh*tty pop music that is coming through the kid's bathroom door. Yes, I have survived another day.
My life has been crazy. I say that all the time, but I mean it very sincerely. It's crazy in a way that only my life can be. My husband's birthday is a perfect example. It was two Fridays ago. I woke up up extra early that day to make him a big breakfast. I made eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, a fruit salad - a nice spread. I served him coffee and I told him he didn't look a day over 30.
It was an unusual day. When I decided to do online school with my youngest, I pulled away from a lot of my volunteer commitments. However, I stayed on to do the books for band boosters because it does not take a lot of time and most of what I do I can do from home. Our biggest fundraiser is in the fall and that day was the day money was due.
My plan was to bring my oldest daughter to school, stay for a few hours, reconcile the money and finalize the order. This happens ONCE A YEAR. My husband was leaving at 8:15 and I planned to be home at 11:30. My youngest daughter had finished most of her lessons for the week already so her friend that also does online school was going to come over and they were going to do their lessons together, and work on a project. After I got home, I was going to make them lunch and we were going to make a birthday cake for my husband. An easy day.
I got all my stuff together and went to the bathroom before I had to leave. I reached for the toilet paper and the roll was empty. That bathroom either has 10 rolls of toilet paper in it or none. There is no in-between. I yelled for someone to get me a roll of toilet paper. I listened to everyone in my family argue over who was going to retrieve toilet paper for me. I just sat there and I thought about how if I was a man, I wouldn't need toilet paper to pee. I could just shake it off and go about my day. I want to be a man, I'm jealous of them with their low maintenance man-parts and higher pay. Do you know what's more inconvenient than owning a vagina? Literally nothing. MAYBE the DMV. The DMV is a close second. Uggggh.
Before long, the bathroom door opened and and a roll of paper towels landed at my feet. Not toilet paper- paper towels. Because no one wanted to walk up the stairs to get toilet paper. "REALLY, GUYS?!?!?!" I screamed through the bathroom door. I knew then, that the day was not going to go as planned.
I kissed my husband goodbye and then drove my oldest to school which was the longest ride ever because we got in an argument about her not turning in classwork. CLASSWORK. That's an easy thing to do. She was being super defensive about it, "I know what I need to do!" Eye rolling, arm crossing and deep sighing ensued. "Then do it!" I yelled back. "Like, if you checked PowerSchool as much as you checked Snapchat, you'd be on point." By the time I pulled up to school we both were heated. She slammed the car door and walked ahead of me. I was not in a good mood. I just wanted to put my headphones in, do my money counting and not talk to anyone.
I'm walking through the hallway and I was pulled aside to get a talking-to about my daughter's pants that were ripped. I guess one of the rips was too high. She's worn these pants multiple times a week since school started and this was the first time I heard they were not within dress code so I was like, "Okay, whatever."
I get to where I needed to be and my daughter is now having a full on teenage nervous breakdown about her pants. "Calm down, it'll be fine. I'll buy you a new pair of pants." I was still pissed at her. She leaves, I sit down and count money. Not 5 minutes later, she is back again in full on panic mode. "They said you need to go home to get me different pants."
Now, I'm annoyed. I get up and go to the person and say, "Listen, I'm not going home to get her new pants, so what needs to happen?"
"I told her she can tie her sweatshirt in front of her to cover up the rip."
I almost laughed out loud. She's in middle school. In middle school, kids get ridiculed for simply existing, so I know for a fact she is not going to walk around all day with a sweatshirt tied around the front her waist. I'm not going to insist that she do that either.
"Yeah, she's not going to do that. So, if she doesn't do it, she will be sent to ISS. Correct?"
I know how this goes.
"Yes, but we don't want to have to do that."
So I go back to my daughter and say, "You have 2 options. I am not going home to get you new pants so you can either tie your sweatshirt around the front of you OR you can be in ISS today."
She threw her hands up, in defeat. "I'll just go to ISS." Then she went on a rant.
I went back and said, "She will not be covering up the rip so you will have to give her an ISS." Then it was, "We don't need to do that. All she needs to do is cover up the....." I lost my mind. Seriously, I was giving ZERO F*CKS about these pants. I didn't want to deal with it. Put her in ISS, send her work to her and maybe she might get things done without distractions, maybe even get a nap in - which she needs. I was OVER IT. If that is what we do with kids that show a small portion of their upper thigh, that is more of a reflection of our f*cked up society than anything else.
So I go back to my melting-down kid who now is smiling. She had tracked down some black duct tape, taped it to her skin, under her pants and now she was within dress code. "I covered up the rip," she said, her eyes still red. Good, problem solved. I can't say she's not resourceful.
I hugged her. "I love you and I want you to have a good day but seriously, turn in your classwork and GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER." She rolled her eyes at me, "Ok. love you too," she muttered under her breath.
I sat down and started doing was I was there to do. I was on edge though. So annoyed. Like, beyond annoyed. Then, 10 minutes later, my phone rings. It was my youngest. I was assuming she was calling to ask me something ridiculous- like can she have leftover meatloaf for breakfast. I picked up the phone.
"Hey whats up?" I asked.
"Yeah, so mom....uh...the police just left here."
"WHAT?!?! Why?!?!"
"So, uh, my friend rode her bike over here and she left it in the front yard and the police came and wrote me ticket."
"For what?"
"For having a bike in the front yard, but don't worry, you don't have to pay any money. It's like a warning."
"Did he ask to speak to an adult?"
"No. He just wrote me a ticket. Then the dog jumped on him and ran down the street. So I had to go get her and we put the bike in the garage. We are going to start our lessons now. It's ok."
"Alright, I'll be home soon."
Who writes a ticket to an 11 year old? You get a ticket for having a bike in your front yard? What kind of fascist bullshit is this? WHAT IS HAPPENING?
I ended the call and I put my head in my hands. I am a shit mother. How did my life spiral this out of control in an hour and a half? Help me please.
I finished my work there and then signed my older daughter out and headed home. I walked through my front door at the TV is at full blast, my daughter and her friend are on the couch with their laptops and my house was destroyed. Sh*t everywhere, dishes piled in the sink....
I made them help me clean up (which they complained about) and then I made them lunch and we got to work on my husband's cake. My youngest had surveyed him earlier in the week about what he wanted and made an ambitious plan for this cake.
We had made the actual CAKE the day before and now it was time to put it together and decorate it. Well, you could say it did not come out quite as planned.
Is it a cake? A hat? A f*cked up nipple? Who knows?
To top it off, we went to the Dollar Store to get candles and they didn't have the same 3 and 5 so the final product was this.
This cake is the physical manifestation of how things usually go for me. LOL. It's just sad, but made with love and that's what really counts, right?
I had the house cleaned and dinner made by the time my husband came home. He laughed and laughed at the cake but was very gracious about it. We sang Happy Birthday and called him "old man". I brought him his favorite beer and poured myself a much needed glass of wine.
My dad and brother came over and we did our favorite thing. About once a week, they come over and we all take turns playing the CHEESIEST music videos we can find and we dance and sing along. It has almost become a tradition. The kids get really into it too. We listened to Europe, Steve Winwood, Rod Stewart.... the girls did an amazing impression on Milli Vanilli that had us all rolling on the floor. It was a nice, relaxing low-key night.
By 9:30 I was exhausted. I kissed my husband. "Sorry your birthday was kind of anti-climatic."
"What?!?! It was amazing." This is why I love him. Because I can be a hot mess and we can make a ghetto birthday cake and sing along to Milli Vanilli in our pajamas and it can still be a good day.
That, folks, is a slice of my life.
P.S. I was trying to write this yesterday evening, but my 13 year old closed my laptop, hopped into bed with me and said, "I'm going to need you to stop what you are doing and pay attention to me." Then the 11 year old showed up and talked my ear off as well. For all the parents with young children wondering when you will get a break- you won't. Just give up hope, surrender yourself, this is your life now....
I'm tired as hell. This is not new. I've been tired for like, 14 years straight but I've been especially tired lately.
Last week was nutty. My husband was out of town all week and I picked him up at the airport late on Friday night. The weekend was jam-packed. We were planning to divide and conquer. My youngest had a gymnastics competition 3.5 hours away and my oldest was dancing at the fair.
I woke up early on Saturday morning because I had a list of a thousand things to do before I had to leave. Typical. The house was quiet. I went downstairs and fixed myself a cup of coffee and some oatmeal. I ate and then sat on the couch to drink my coffee and read the news. It's my daily routine. I need that 20 minutes in the morning.
My husband came downstairs shortly after and joined me on the couch. He wanted to chatter about his week and whatever else. No. Just not now. I gave him the "look" and told him that right now I needed some peace.
"You are being annoying today," he said.
"No I'm not. I'm just trying to drink my coffee in peace," I replied.
"Yeah, but you're not paying attention to me," he joked. It was only a half-joke. He did want me to pay attention to him.
I need my space. It's because I'm an Aquarius. I blame all of my terrible personality traits on being an Aquarius. Emotionally unavailable? It's because I'm an Aquarius. Never call you back? Aquarius. Grumpy? Aquarius.
We are the worst.....along with Aries and Scorpio.
He settled for sitting quietly next to me. My kids came rolling downstairs at 7:30 am. On a Saturday. Why?!?!?! They could have slept, it is unlike them. "What's for breakfast?" they asked. "Whatever you make yourself," I said. I was annoyed. I didn't want to see them until I finished my coffee.
I got up and straightened the living room. Then I went into the kitchen to pack lunch for the drive to Greenville. I'm in the kitchen, peeling clementines and making sandwiches and listening to the radio when all hell breaks loose.
My oldest decides she is going to play the flute LOUDLY in the adjoining dining room, the dog sees a car drive by and is barking and running in a circle around the house, the cat is at my ankles meowing for a treat, my youngest is like, "Mom, mom, mom....." and trying to get my attention, and my husband is standing there trying to talk politics to me, there are dishes piled in the sink because my damn dishwasher broke last week....I was like
This is what my life is like. This is why I need my 20 minutes with my coffee every morning because my days are literal shit shows. Don't get me wrong, I have a good life and I enjoy it but it is mass chaos. It is dirty dishes, laundry, carpools, demanding pets and hormonal daughters and a traveling husband. It's just pure insanity at all times.
I handled one thing at a time. I validated my husband and gave my political opinion, I assured my daughter I would mend her warm-up pants before we left, I offered feedback to my flute-playing daughter, I gave the cat some treats and let the dog out. Then, I kicked everyone out of the kitchen and started the dishes and finished packing lunch. That is what moms do. We multi-task.
I gave specific directions to my husband for the dancing event at the fair. I set out her costume, got the tickets ready, gave them cash. I tried to make it easy. My husband is an IT person. He doesn't like to be surprised, he likes a timeline and directions, he wants to know what to expect, hates surprises. It's probably because he is an asshole Scorpio.
I headed out the door and we made the journey to the gymnastics competition. It was a long drive but nice. I had her teammate and mom with me, which helped the time pass. I was in the stands watching my daughter compete, and my phone starts blowing up. My husband was losing his ever-loving mind.
My daughter convinced him to pick up her friend and take him to the fair too. He did, not a problem. Well, she had to go dance and this teenage boy was just stuck hanging out with my husband and brother. After she danced, she wanted to go on some rides and meet up with some other friends. Still not a problem.
He wants to leave and my daughter tells him that he is the only adult there. She told her friends that her dad and uncle would be there to chaperone them. It all sounded sketch to me. "If you want to leave, just leave."
"And leave all these other kids here unsupervised?" he asked. He's such a dad.
"Ummm. Yes. You never agreed to supervise anyone else's kid. No parents spoke with you. It is not your responsibility. You are responsible for our kid and the kid you picked up but not the others. If they wanted you to watch their kid then they should have reached out to you."
"This is bullshit. I'm taking the little one ALWAYS. EVERY TIME from now on."
This was not in the plan, he stayed later than expected, he was totally triggered. It was the funniest. I'm glad he got stuck at the fair. I hate the fair. I refuse to go. Someone threw up on a ride that spins in the air and it rained vomit on me and the kids one year. The food is gross. It's dirty as hell and I want to scrub myself. I don't trust rides that were put together a week ago. The traffic is terrible. The fair does not bring me joy. I know I sound snobby and people love the fair but I despise it. I'm so glad it's over.
I got to watch my baby compete. She placed third overall. I was so proud. She is a hard worker.
This week has been a hot mess. The kids have had a million activities. I've written like 20 checks which I'm pissed about. My dishwasher is costing $220 to repair. There have been field trips and band fundraisers and dance costumes.....We had to pay to replace my youngest daughter's passport because the dog ate it. Christmas is next month. Thankfully my shopping for the kids is pretty much done. Yesterday my oldest tried to add something to her list and I was like, "No. Christmas is not magic anymore. You get what you get." Aquarius.
Well, I have to go. I have a never ending list things to do- as usual.
P.S. My daughter just informed me that the dog pooped on the living room rug while I wrote this. I'm wasn't kidding when I said my life was a literal shit show. LOL
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