Twenty One Pilots

                          
Last night, I took the kids to the Twenty One Pilots concert. They were so excited. They came downstairs in their TOP tee-shirts and red eye shadow around their eyes. "What is that about?" I asked. They rolled their eyes. "Josh Dun does it, so we are paying homage to him." They asked like I was supposed to know that. Like I was supposed to give a sh*t about what kind of eye makeup some pop-rock guy wears. Newsflash: I don't care and ain't nobody got time for that.

I put on a Twenty One Pilots shirt too. I didn't want to dress like myself, because I would be super out of place. Twenty One Pilots is okay. I know all of their songs because the kids have made me listen to their album OVER and OVER and OVER again. When they were younger, it was the Wheels on the Bus on repeat. Now, it's crappy pop songs.

I can tolerate TOP infinitely more than other pop artists. I swear to God if they make me listen to that horrible Ariana Grande "Side to Side" song or that Ed Sheeran "Shape of You" song one more time, I am seriously going to lose it.

Twenty One Pilots music is kind of catchy. They don't drop F-bombs or talk about doing drugs, drinking alcohol or banging bitches. As a mom, I can appreciate that.

We picked up their friends and showed up to the venue. The line was long. We were waiting and one of their friends from school showed up, I'm going to call him Honey Badger. This kid is the funniest. "Can I just hang with you guys? My mom is working here." I shrugged.
"Do you have a ticket? What section are you in?"
He pulled out his ticket, "I'm not in your section but I'll still sit with you guys."
Well, okay. We got our tickets scanned and went to our seats. They were pretty much nosebleed seats. They were $50 but I had to buy FIVE tickets.

I could see the look on my 12-year olds face. "Listen, don't complain. It is a huge treat just to be here."
Honey Badger patted her on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll get us onto the floor." I rolled my eyes. Fat chance.

Honey Badger kept changing seats as people showed up but sure enough, he stuck around. Before long, the lights dimmed and the opening act came out - Judah and the Lion. I thought they were really good. I was impressed. They played a few songs and then the lead singer said, "I'm going to throw it back to my favorite song from fourth grade." Then they started playing Mr. Brightside by the Killers.

        
I thought, Didn't this song come out within the past 10 years? How is it that this is this grown-ass man's favorite song? I feel sooooooo old.

It was actually 13 years ago, but my sense of time is jacked up. I'm still old.

After Judah and Lions, Jon Bellion came out and did his thing. I thought he was really good. Then, it was intermission before the headlining event.
"It's hot in here. Let's go outside," Honey Badger suggested.

The kids thought that was a good idea and I just fell behind to ensure they didn't get into any shenanigans. Honey Badger was walking around like he owned the place. He had swagger. We got a whiff of some funky-skunky marijuana smell. "I know what that smell is because I've been to L.A.," Honey Badger said. I was dying.

We went back to our seats and waited for Twenty One Pilots to come on. The kids were on their phones. Then Honey Badger said, "Come on! We're going to the pit!"
"What? How? There are 6 of us!"
"I got the hook up," he said with a grin. So much swagger.

I was not believing this kid but we got up and followed him anyway. Sure enough, there were 6 wristbands waiting for us. I could not believe it. My kids were jumping up and down. All the girls crowded around Honey Badger and started hugging him. "Oh my God! You're the BEST!" Honey Badger was like

                                          

They were trying to get a good view but there were a lot of tall people. My oldest was trying to convince Honey Badger to give her a piggy back. I was trying to talk him out of it. They are both 12 but she is much bigger than him.
"How much do you weigh?" I asked.
"93 pounds."
"I weighed that when I got married," I said it outloud, mostly to myself, amazed that I was ever that thin.
"My mom was only 18," my daughter announced.
"I have to be 21...." Honey Badger said.
"To get married?"
He paused for a moment. "No, to play the piano. That's what my dad says but I'm probably not going to follow that rule.

My daughters were like
                                    
                                    Dude! I can't believe you just said that to my mom. 

Kids now-a-days are wide open. I was like, "Thanks for sharing, lets never talk about that ever again."

The show started and the kids lost their minds. They were jumping up and down with their hands in the air, screaming out the lyrics. It was an impressive show. They were playing from different stages and we were right at the edge of the pit. When the lead singer ran by my daughter reached out and touched him.

She started to cry, actual tears. I'm going to have to hear about that sh*t FOREVER. During the last song, red confetti rained down over us. "This is the best night of my life," they said. Best money I ever spent.

Afterwards, we thanked Honey Badger profusely and parted ways. We sat in traffic forever and then I dropped off their friends and headed home. They didn't get to bed until 12:30 am.

I thought it would be rough getting them up for school the next day but they were in some kind of post-TOP-concert adrenaline rush. My oldest jumped out of bed. "Oh my God! I can't wait to tell everyone that I touched Tyler- it was so lit, fam!" Translation: I am excited to inform everyone that I touched the lead singer from Twenty One Pilots. It was a really amazing experience.

Holy Shit I'm So Tired

I am exhausted. I know, I've been saying that for years, a little over 12 and a half years to be exact. The past month has been especially brutal. I got sick again. I thought my horrible 2 week cold in December would take me up to my quota, but no. We ALL had the crud in January. My husband was sick for 2-3 days, then my oldest, then my youngest, then me. It was bad. The kids were home from school, my husband was home from work. We were taking NyQuil like:
                             
In addition to being sick I started a job, my husband decided to go back to college, my daughter had 2 gymnastic competitions, my oldest tried out for America's Got Talent and got braces (AGAIN), we've attended and thrown parties, I've cooked 50+ meals and packed 40+ lunches and have done countless loads of laundry, driven 3,000 miles shuffling my children to here and there and everywhere. My husband was in DC at some point and is headed to Colorado next week.

In addition to the physical demands of simply maintaining my family and household, I am emotionally exhausted. Having two daughters in middle school means that someone has a crisis every day. I am not kidding you, EVERY DAY of my f**king life. Some kind of meltdown. Here is a short list of some meltdown scenarios:

"I cannot find my shoes anywhere." Panic ensures, accusations of not being helpful follow.
"I'm not going to school ever again. Pull me out!" Some bullshit about a teacher.
"I got an 80 on a test. I hate my life!" Self-explanatory.
"My pores! Look at them! I need a charcoal mask." What?
"You PROMISED you would take me shopping for new clothes! You are a liar!" Never promised anything.
"Some kid was mean to me!" Teary-eyes.

It's always something. I'm always worried about something going on with these kids or something that needs to be done/purchased. I don't know how I'm going to get these kids through high school with my sanity intact.

It's taking a toll on my husband too. The other night we sat down on the couch together to watch a show at the end of the day. We'd both worked and then spent hours cooking/cleaning/shuffling kids/dealing with their non-crisis crises. "This is so HARD. Is it supposed to be this hard?" he asked.
"I don't know. I think," I replied.

Surely, we are doing something wrong. Other people make this whole parenting/life thing look EASY. There was a class about how to raise kids without dissolving into pure exhaustion and insanity and we missed it, we were not invited.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and we watched our show together in peace - a rare occurrence. I fell asleep 10 minutes in.

Birthday Time

                                
So I had a birthday recently. A few weeks ago, but it feels like forever ago already. I do not care about my birthday. I don't hate my birthday or anything, I'm just not that into it. We have cake and a special dinner. I'm low key.

It annoys my husband that I don't get excited about my birthday. He always is trying to get me a ridiculous present. "What do you want for your birthday?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"I can't get you nothing."
"Put an extra $100 in our savings account."
"That is not a gift."
Seriously! I am telling you - not getting me a gift IS a gift to me. Acts of service, that's what I want."

I don't need any more crap. I'm not into it. I don't care about gifts in general. Do the dishes, fold laundry, shuffle the kids, rub my feet..... I'll take that over anything store brought. I'm simple, a utilitarian kind of woman.

In addition to my not being into gifts, I annoyed him a few weeks before my birthday when I said, "Did you know that Winston Churchill AND his father died on my birthday? That means that my birthday is the Churchill death day."

He was so upset about it. Truly bothered.
              
"That sucks, I don't want you to be sad on your birthday."

I was like, "Whoa! Slow down - I was stating a historical fact. I didn't know Winston Churchill personally or anything. I'm not going to be mourning on my birthday...."


The day before my birthday, I got a message from a high school friend that shares a birthday with me. We exchanged birthday greetings and remarked about how much time had passed. "Now it's just counting down until the kids are out of the house."

I thought about that for a moment and counted in my head. My youngest daughter will turn 18 in seven and a half years. In 7.5 years I will no longer be legally responsible for my minor children. THAT is truly something to think about.

My birthday came around on a Tuesday. My husband served me breakfast in bed at 5:51 in the morning. I was not happy about it. He has got to stop doing that. He does not like for me to sleep. I swear to God it's some kind of conspiracy.

The day went on as usual, I have a household to run. Dishes needed to be done, laundry to be folded, kids to be shuffled. We went out for pizza and then did cake and candles that evening. It was nice and low-key.

That night I went upstairs and said to my daughter, "Can you believe that your mom is 34?"
She looked at me like I was crazy. "Mom, you just turned 33."
"What?" I did the math in my head. "I am 33! WOW! I'm so young!"

                       
I was so happy. It was the best birthday gift ever, being a year younger than I thought I was turning. That's my mom brain....

The Missing Bag

                       
The Tuesday after MLK day, we were back to the daily grind. We got up Tuesday morning and I made breakfast and lunches. My 10 year old was having a full-on freak out that she couldn't find her brush. "Just check your competition bag," I suggested.
"Where is it?" she asked.
"In your room," I replied.
"No, it's not."
"I put it in there." I ALWAYS put her competition bag in her room when I unload the car.

I went to her room and sure enough, it wasn't there. I must not have unloaded it from the car. I DID get home at 1 in the morning that night and we did have a crazy weekend. "Ask your sister to borrow her brush."

After the morning shuffle, I ushered the kids out the door and I went out to the car to get my daughter's competition bag. It wasn't in my trunk. I went to the suitcases that I had yet to unpack in my bedroom. It wasn't there. Then, I started to panic. I tore apart everything and it was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't just any bag. It's contents included:

competition leotard: $150
warm up jacket: $100
athletic capris: $25
no-show socks: $7
Converse sneakers: $45
grips: $48
grip bag: $17
tiger paws: $50
wrist bands: $6
bun maker and hair accessories: $12
The bag itself was $65.

That's over $500 worth of stuff. MISSING. I don't have $500 to be pissing away. Also, it's not like I can just go on Amazon Prime and re-order every thing. A new leo would take weeks to come in. I was having a full on FREAK OUT. Where could this bag be? I thought back to where I last saw it. The Wendys in Tennessee.

I didn't know which Wendys it was. Just that it was off the Interstate between Knoxville and the North Carolina border. I got on Google and start calling all of the Wendys in that area. None of them had the bag. I was devastated. My panic was quickly turning to desperation. I got on my knees and I prayed.

God, I know you have a lot on your plate. I know people are starving and have cancer and all of that, but I'm going to need you to stop what you're doing and help me find this bag. Please HELP ME.

That's when I had divine intervention. I knew how I would find the bag. I logged onto my bank account and tried to find where they charged my debit card. It had the store number attached to the charge. I googled it and called the Wendys.

I explained my situation and the lady on the other line replied, "I have the bag right here in the office!"
I was so happy, I felt like I'd won the lottery.
"Listen, I live 5 hours away. Is it possible for you to ship it to me?" I asked.
There was a hesitation on the other line. "Well, how would that work? Who would pay for it and send it?"
I was not dealing with a full deck. "You know what? I'm coming right now to get it."

That's what I did. I slipped on my sneakers and walked out of my house and 9 am and just drove to this random Wendys in Tennessee. I called my husband en route and explained the situation. He agreed that it was what had to be done.

 I made the best of it. I had recently put together a playlist of forgotten 90's songs, so I listened to that. I spent time alone with my thoughts (which can be frightening), I ate lunch in a gas station and read the news. It went by quick.

I pulled into the Wendys five hours later. I'm pretty sure I looked like a homeless person. I went to the counter and asked for the bag and they brought it out. I've never been so happy to see a book bag in my life. I opened it up and took an inventory. Everything was as she had left it. I looked up at the Wendy's lady. "Can I hug you?" She smiled, "Yes!" She was excited too. For some reason that I don't understand. I thanked them and drove straight home.

I pulled in my driveway at 8 pm. Eleven hours after I had left. I was greeted by my husband and both girls. My youngest looked so nervous, "I'm so sorry, mom." I think she thought that I was going to be mad at her.

It never even occurred to me to be upset at her about it. I was just so happy that the bag was found. My daughter did not leave the bag on purpose. It was a long day of competing, I was rushing her. It was a careless mistake, but it was just a mistake. Did it suck to have to drive to Tennessee and back in one day? Yeah. Was it inconvenient? Sure. But it wasn't the end of the world. Sometimes your kids are going to throw their toys in your toilet, or vomit in your hair, or leave an important item in a random Wendy's five hours away - you can expect life with children to be messy and inconvenient and unexpected. That's okay because it's also beautiful and amazing and short-lived. I feel blessed and grateful; even after 11 hours of driving.

"I saw that Jim Gaffigan has new stand-up on Netflix. Let's pop some popcorn and watch it together," I suggested. That's what we did. It was a good ending to an exhausting day.

We settled into the couch and my husband put his arm around me. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel like I'm in a constant state of motion and my butt hurts so bad," I groaned.
"I'm still not going to rub Bengay on it," he replied. I laughed out loud.