On Sunday night, my husband wasn't feeling well. He took a sick day on Monday and I got up early to take our daughter to school. I took his Jeep because it's nicer than my car. I was driving down the road and it just shut off. I was PISSED. This is the 3rd time this year that we've had this issue. We've had the car less than 2 years and it only has 38,000 miles on it. Every time they say it's something else and fix it and then it's good for a few months.
I got it to start and it sputtered back home. I took her to school in my car and then I had a million errands to run. I called the Jeep dealership and they said, "We don't have an appointment until September 11th."
"I'm not supposed to drive my car until September 11th?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
I couldn't handle it. "So, what's actually going to happen is that I'm dropping off my car this afternoon and you guys are going to fix it."
"We can't look at it today."
"Well, you will look at it tomorrow." I was being a huge bitch.
We dropped the car off that afternoon and I told my husband I'd take him to work/pick him up for a few days until they get us a loner.
In the meantime, the kids have been the kids. My youngest is doing online school and I'm helping her with that. They teach math so idiotically nowadays. My oldest is having her typical teenage melodramas.
On Tuesday, my oldest came home from marching band and complained of being achy. She had a long day, so I gave her some ibprofen told her to take a shower and go straight to bed.
I was awoken by her at 2 am. "Mama, I'm not feeling good," she told me. She was a little warm but nothing alarming. I was half asleep and I let her come into bed with us. She snuggled in-between me and my husband and I rubbed her back. After a half hour or so, she complained that she was shmushed and went back to bed.
My phone rang at 4:14 am. It was my daughter, "Mom, I feel really bad." I got out of bed and went into her room and she was literally burning alive. She had stripped down and was sweaty and delirious. I went downstairs to get the thermometer and could not find it anywhere. We lose thermometers constantly in this house.
My kids are always taking their temperature for no reason. Cramps? Take your temperature. Itchy nose? Take your temperature. There are probably a bunch of thermometers under their beds.
I gave her fever reducer and a glass of ice water and I sponged down her steaming body with a cool cloth. She tossed and turned and moaned. I felt terrible for her. She finally settled into sleep at 6 am.
No sleep for me because I had to get up and take my husband to work. I'd barely slept so I made myself a cup of coffee and left in my pajamas. After I dropped him off, I ran into Walgreens to grab a thermometer. I shuffled through the aisles in my pajamas, moccasins, hair a mess, no bra. That's me!
I got a thermometer and some cold Gatorades and went to the check out. The cashier was my little buddy that tells me EVERY TIME that I have the same name of a girl he went to high school with. He liked her, but she was kind of a bitch. I have to hear this story EVERY TIME. He's a little slow, sweet though. So I stood there with my hot mess self and listened to his story about the girl he went to high school with as he rung me up and I just nodded like I had never heard the story before.
I got home and took her temperature - 103. Yikes! She hasn't had a high fever like that in years. She was very achy and her throat hurt.
"I'm going to get dressed and I'll take you to the doctors and we'll go pick up some chicken noodle soup."
I was getting dressed and my phone pinged. It was a text from my daughter:
CAN YOU GET RAVIOLI AT THE STORE?
REGULAR RAVIOLI OR CHEF BOYARDEE? I replied.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND
I called her, "Do you want regular ravioli or Chef Boyardee?"
"What's Chef Boyardee?" she asked, pronouncing Boyardee with a french accent. "Is that fancy ravioli or something?"
I laughed so hard that I almost pissed my pant. "No, baby. It's not fancy ravioli."
There are certain things my kids have not been exposed to: Chef Boyardee, bologna, American Cheese, Spam, Hot Pockets, Vienna sausages, white bread.... I don't buy that stuff. I'm not trying to be a food snob or anything, I just don't like having diarrhea.
"Just regular ravioli then, or if they have spinach, than spinach." My kids are so weird. I take food requests every week before I go to the grocery store. This week my 11 year old said, "I want salami, sushi, soda, and tomato soup."
I took my daughter to Urgent Care where they diagnosed her with strep throat and prescribed antibiotics. Then we went to get chicken noodle soup-and "regular" ravioli.
She was very lethargic, I had to coax her to eat and drink. Last night her fever was still high. She called me in the middle of the night, and I laid with her. She burrowed herself into me. My pajamas were wet with her sweat. She hasn't wanted me to leave her side.
I wonder when she will stop wanting her mama when she is sick. I think it's kind of weird because I never wanted my parents ever when I was a kid. She'll be 40 years old and she'll still be calling me when she's sick.
So, one is sick, I'm helping the other with school, I'm driving my husband back and forth....and my husband calls today and says, "Yeah, so we need to get a whole brand new engine."
"What?"
"Yeah, I thought that was a little excessive too. Can you track down all the oil change records and bring them to the dealership?"
That was not what I wanted to do. We've had 7 oil changes since we've owned the car - I have the records for 5 of them and the other 2 were at an Meineke which shut down 2 months ago. It's been a big cluster. I'm still waiting to hear back from them....
Amazingly, I don't feel stressed out. I'm kind of like,
It's certainly been a while. Where have I been? That's such a loaded question. I don't think I could accurately paint a picture of my life if I tried. It certainly has been interesting.
This past month, I've cooked countless meals and done at least 40 loads of laundry. I picked up extra shifts at work. I held dozens of newborn babies and listened to their bird-like cries and ached for my own children. I had some health issues which included a trip to the ER, followed by doctors visits and tests. I stopped eating bread and lost 5 pounds.
I got into arguments and smiled at strangers. I binge watched 6 seasons of Game of Thrones. I massaged sore muscles, wiped tears and given more hugs than I can count. The house has been full of people coming and going- neighbors, family members, friends - girls in ripped denim, shiny lip gloss, and painted nails. Boys with tousled hair, charming smiles, and voices that are 10 years older than their faces.
I stood in the rain and witnessed the earth go dark as the moon passed in front of the sun. I daydreamed about being back in Rome - sitting on the patio with a cup of coffee and the smell of honeysuckle that cascaded over stone walls. I laughed a lot, complained a little, and prayed constantly.
When my oldest daughter came to me and told me that her dark, black bedroom is not "who she is anymore", I painted it lavender with her late at night. I ordered new beds and mattresses for the girls and put them together, hung pictures on their walls, remembered when they were small and I still felt like they belonged to me.
I became stranded in a flash flood and spent many hours driving my children back and forth - to camps, music lessons, rehearsals, gymnastics practice, and friends houses. I woke before dawn and watered wilted flowers. I cried...and sighed....and contemplated whether or not my entire life has just been one great big existential crisis.
I had moments of joy, moments of sorrow and passionate kisses in the dark. I plucked silver lightning- bolt gray hairs from that spot right above my ear and cleaned up after everyone in my house. I have been present and a million miles away. I reluctantly sent one child back to school and started homeschooling my other child.
I wiggled the loose tooth of my youngest daughter and let the blood and saliva run down my fingertips. I have given lectures and pep-talks. I have yelled and spoken in hushed tones. I have felt happiness, worry, satisfaction, disappointment, contentment and fear. All of the emotions, sometimes mixed together, crashing into me like waves on the shore.
I am a wife and a mother of two teen/tween girls. This is my life. It's messy, random, exhausting and full. Sometimes it is good, sometimes it is bad, and sometimes it just IS.
I hope to catch up soon. I love to write, to get out all of these things that are inside of me so that I don't feel like I'm living inside my own head so much.
I long for the summer to melt into autumn. My soul is calmer in the fall. The days are shorter, the air is cooler and the house will smell like pumpkin and cinnamon. It's the little things that make me happy. Surely, all will be right with the world.
I don't follow celebrities. Sometimes when I see the tabloids at the grocery store I don't even know who some of the people are on the cover. This was not always the case. When I first got married, my husband quickly figured that I'm not the kind of girl that appreciates flowers. So instead of bringing me home flowers, he'd bring me a pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food and some trashy tabloid magazine. We didn't have extra money and so this was quite a treat for me.
I was always fascinated by the celebrities that were getting married and having children the same time I was. Gavin Rosdale and Gwen Stefani, Chris Martin and Gweneth Paltrow, David Arquette and Courtney Cox, Kate Hutson and Chris Robinson, Denise Richards and Charlie Sheen. It was an escape from my peasant life.
Then, they all broke up and it made me a little sad. Not, like, really sad. I wasn't personally invested or anything but I would think, "Oh, they got married the same year as me" or "Oh man! Their kids are the same age as mine." It gives me pause.
I don't keep up with celebrities anymore. I'd much rather read Southern Living than People nowadays. However, in the news this week there were many headlines about Anna Faris and Chris Pratt getting divorced. The comments made me laugh so hard. "But they looked so happy!"
You think they were happy?!?! They were working parents, in their 8th year of marriage and they had a 4 year old child. Seems like the time for things to fall apart.
The idea of marital happiness fascinates me. The only people that believe you need to be happy all the time to stay married, are people who are not married or have not been married long enough to know better. If you go into marriage expecting to be happy all the time, then you will be gravely disappointed.
I have a solid marriage. Right now, it's the happiest that it's ever been. I am grateful for that. We always joke that the first 9 years were the hardest. Certainly, all the years weren't terrible but it did take us almost that long to figure it out. There were times when my marriage was in the toilet.
When we were 22 and 23 we went to marriage counseling. We were struggling. We had been married over 4 years and we'd moved 5 times in those 4 years. We had just moved to the middle of the country where we knew no one. We had a 2 year old and a new baby. I was a senior in college, my husband was in his early 20's working for the Department of Defense trying to support a family of 4. We had barely enough to get by. My husband had been hospitalized with meningitis that summer which was traumatic, his father had just died after a long battle with pancreatic cancer, among other things......
All of these things weighed on our marriage. We went to marriage counseling for a few months. We had no one to watch the children and we certainly didn't have money for a sitter. We scraped up all of our resources to pay for counseling. I remember walking in, spreading a blanket on the floor and setting my oldest daughter down with a few toys. I sat next to my husband with the baby at my breast. We resented each other.
It's easy to resent your spouse when you have young children. No one knows resentment like a mother, waking up for the 3rd time in the middle of the night to calm a fussy baby while her husband snores, who is exhausted from wrangling children all day and her husband comes home from work and sits down to watch a show to "unwind."
My husband resented me for not understanding the pressure of trying to support a family alone. It was hard for him to be replaced by the children. I didn't know how to be a wife AND a mother. I always gave so much to the children that there was nothing left for him.
So, there we at in the therapist's office and hashed out our problems. She would always drop hints about how we probably shouldn't have married at 18 and 19 and had 2 kids right away. Well, thanks for the insight, Captain Obvious!
We hated her. As a matter of fact, that is the thing about marriage counseling that brought us together- our mutual disdain for our marriage counselor. Who does she think she is, judging us? We're going to work this sh*t out. We'll show her!
Things got better. We worked at growing up, the children got easier to manage, we accepted our lives for what they were, and we worked on forgiving a lot.
If you have young children and your marriage is in the toilet - fear not! It is not unusual and it gets better.
So when we hit 9 years, the kids were 7 and 5. They were both in elementary school and we became more like a couple again instead of just mom and dad. Now, we both avoid the children together. We have much more time-just the two of us. As a matter of fact, we went out to dinner twice this week. It's been a re-discovery of sorts.
How do you stay married? The hell if I know. During those rough years, the things that kept us together were the fact that we are best friends and make each other laugh and that we think each other is hot. Long term marriages live off of oxytocin. It replaces that being "in love" stage.
It is sooooo wonderful to fall in love but it is a sickness. It would be exhausting to be in that stage forever. Your brain would be cloudy and you'd never get anything done. The early stages of love are all-encompassing and obsessive. Long term love might be less exciting. There are no pop song or movies about long term love but there is so much beauty in it.
I am attracted to my husband for different reasons than when we first got together. Whenever a super-hero movie or Star Wars movie comes out, he always takes the girls on a date. He takes them out to dinner and then to the premiere - just the 3 of them. Watching the excitement on his face when he ushers the children out of the door is hot.
The other day, he was sitting on the couch, watching a show. He looked so serious. I watched him with his newly shaved head, salt and pepper beard, and his big broad shoulders and strong arms. His is so strong. He could probably kill someone with his bare hands, I thought. "I want to give you 20 babies," I blurted out.
He turned to me like I was weirdo. "I don't want 20 babies."
I love that he knows me, he knows how to deal with me when I am being neurotic, he's always kept me tethered to the earth. I was feeling a little gloomy around the kid's birthdays. I was trying to be low-key about it but my husband wasn't buying it.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"I know you. What's wrong?"
"Seriously, nothing."
He wasn't buying it, "Okay, now tell the truth."
I sighed, "It's just that I feel like in 7 years, when the kids are out of the house, my life will have no meaning."
He laughed and put his arm around me. "Stop that. The kids will go to college and you will work full-time, work that you love. We will go on all kinds of vacations together and go out with friends. Then, they will get married one day, their husbands be our sons. Our family will grow with new people. We'll get to know their families. Then, we'll have grandchildren and we'll have them over. It's going to be great. It's going to be amazing."
He has a way of doing that, of helping me see the bigger picture. Of calming me. He's learned over the years.
We don't take ourselves too seriously. We had friends over a few weeks ago that have been married 2 years and I joked that I sent my husband a "picture" while he was out of town. It was a picture of my ingrown nail. They asked if I send other kinds of pictures. Ummmm.....no.
I would never send sexy pictures. That's something that girlfriends do - not wives of 15 years. My husband wouldn't even blink an eye. You don't get that excited about something you've seen thousands of times. I'd might as well send a picture of our front door. I live in reality. I always joke that when I go grey, I'm going to dye my hair blonde, get blue contacts, and an augmentation so that it'll be like being with a different person.
The other day he had me laughing so hard. "Being with the same women your whole life is like being in line to ride a roller coaster you've ridden 8 million times. It's not that exciting, you know where all the curves and drops are. But then you get on and it's still thrilling and you remember why it's your favorite roller coaster in the park, so you get back in line to ride it again."
"So, you are saying I'm like a roller coaster?" I laughed.
"My favorite roller coaster in the park," he replied.
"Well, 8 million is a pretty high number. We've only been together for like, 6,000 days."
The other day, my youngest and I were laying in bed watching old home movies. It was a rare event as she usually avoids me like the plague.
But this day was different, we watched videos of her as a toddler - dancing, singing and being cute. We watched one where she was 3 years old, setting out cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve.
My 11 year old turned to me. "Mom, tell me the truth. Is Santa real?"
I thought she didn't believe in Santa and has been humoring us. She is going into the 6th grade. It's time. "No. Mom and Dad are Santa."
She didn't seem disappointed. She just shrugged and said, "Everyone was saying Santa wasn't real and I kind of THOUGHT it was you and dad but then I thought you would never spend that much money on us because you are so cheap." Wow. Roasted.
Then she said, "We can't tell my sister because she still believes." I laughed so hard. "No. She found out in the beginning of 5th grade. I told her not to tell you."
The look on my daughter's face was priceless. Her mind was blown.
I think that her older sister is the only reason that she believed in Santa for so long. Whenever my little one would come home with doubts, she would say, "Who cares what other kids say? I believe in Santa and I'm older than you."
Yes, we all lied to her. But you know what? The world is shit, so we should hold onto the childhood magic as long as we can.
I then confirmed that the Easter Bunny and tooth fairy are not real....and the elf.
"Well, now that you know the elf isn't real, I'm not moving him this year."
She looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Yes, you are."
Excuse me? Do you know what I said to her. I said, "F*ck that elf!"
Just kidding, I didn't say that. But I did in my head. I hate the elf. He brings me no joy. What I actually said was, "You can move him for me now."
"But, Mom! He brought us Christmas doughnuts!" she protested.
"No. I brought Christmas doughnuts and I still will."
She hadn't thought about that. Christmas will still go on as it always has. This year will be different though. None of my children believe in Santa. I imagine we will set out cookies and milk and wait until the children go to get to pile presents under the tree - it's what we've always done but it won't feel the same.
I imagine the Christmases of our future- my husband and I sitting on the couch, drinking coffee in front of the fire, waiting for them to decide to wake up and open their gifts. No toys- practical things like socks and Sephora gift cards, electronics.....
The "little children" days are over. The sound of their tiny feet pitter-pattering down the stairs on Christmas morning and the shrieks of delight when they saw that Santa came will just live in my memories now. Time is passing too quickly.
I have to look on the bright side - at least I don't have to do the elf anymore. I hate that b*tch!
My 11 year old has not been feeling well. She developed a summer cold last weekend and a low grade fever. I generally don't take my kids to the doctor unless they have a high fever and lethargy, so we managed her symptoms at home the first 3 days. Her throat became increasingly sore and it hurt to swallow so I took her to the pediatrician.
I actually hate her pediatrician's office. I've hated them for years. Their office staff is horrible and I don't like the doctors either. But they are close to my house, so I never switched them because I'm lazy and it's convenient. I only take them for well checks and everything else I go to Health First.
BUT last time I went to Health First, they told me I had an outstanding balance of $140 from a visit 18 months prior and they never billed me and I had been there MULTIPLE times after that. So I paid the balance and vowed I would never go back; I am boycotting them.
My daughter's appointment was at 9:10 am. At 8 am, I told her she would need to be dressed and ready to go by 8:55. I made her breakfast and got myself ready.
Of course, she was not ready to go. She was taking her sweet time. She came downstairs wearing black leggings and a black tee shirt that was 2 sizes too big. Covered in lint. "There is a lint brush in the drawer, go take care of that."
She shrugged, "Nah, I'm good."
I can always count on my kid to wear the scrubbiest thing she owns to the doctor. I was annoyed.
We pull up to the office and my daughter groaned and rolled her eyes, "Really mom? You are making me go to the baby doctor?!?!?"
"It's the pediatrician. She sees kids up until they are 18."
"She sees babies!"
"Listen, I'll switch you over to a family practice doc but today you have to go."
She sat down in the "sick" lobby and crossed her arms. I went to the front desk to check in. The receptionist was unwelcoming and rude. Typical.
I sat down and updated our information. I observed parents coming in with their young children. I watched a little boy- 2 years old maybe - with his hands pressed against the aquarium, admiring the fish as they swam by.
Then I heard a whisper in my ear, "Stop looking at all the kids. You are being a weirdo." I can't even exist in the presence of my child.
Before long, they called her back. They weighed and measured her and then brought us to an exam room and asked the typical questions.
"Does she still take Flovent and abuterol everyday?"
"No. We discontinued that 4 years ago."
She has not been prescribed this medication for 4 years yet every visit they still ask.
They did the rapid strep test and then we waited to see the doc. She walked in and informed us that the strep test was negative and looked in her ears and throat. She diagnosed her with a viral infection and then told me a bunch of things already knew in a condescending manner.
Then she turned to me and said, "Do you keep lotion in the house, mom? Because your daughter has dry skin on her face and she really needs to moisturize everyday."
Did this b*tch just ask me if I keep lotion in the house?
Of course! What kind of a question is that? My children have more skincare products in their bathroom than most anyone I know. You'll find: St. Ives lotion, Aveeno lotion, Eucerin, at least 15 Bath and Body Works lotions, charcoal bars, charcoal face mask, apricot scrub, face wash for the day and night, make-up remover wipes, they even stole my Argan oil.
Here's the thing. I remind my children to do things - to wash their face, brush their teeth, clip their toenails, use lotion and chap stick - but I don't micromanage their hygiene. You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make them drink.
This child is 11 years old. She is going into the 6th grade. She is of above average intelligence. If she has dry skin on her face, it is her own fault. What does this lady propose I do? Be this guy?
Does she think I'm going to rub lotion on her face before bed every night? What else? Am I supposed to wipe her ass to ensure she's doing a good job of it?
I was slightly annoyed. I gave the doctor a half-smile and looked her in the eyes and said, "My daughter is 11 years old. She is a big girl. She is responsible for maintaining her own hygiene so I'm going to need you to look at her and tell HER everything you just said to me."
She looked at me like I was a b*tch, but she did just that. Good - maybe she'll do it now.
Then we went to go check out. The lady at the desk asked if she could schedule her annual well check for me. I was like
Just kidding, I didn't do that but I wanted to. I hate that office and that condescending pediatrician. I smiled sweetly and said, "No, not today. Thank you."
It's easy to feel judged when you are a new mother. Everyone has a different parenting philosophy and they think theirs is the best. You have the breastfeeding nazis and the unapologetic formula feeders, the working moms and the stay at home moms, the co-sleeping moms and the strict scheduling moms.....it is all so exhausting and you constantly feel like you have to justify your decisions.
The way we chose to raise our children is slightly non-traditional. We always were really into gentle parenting and natural consequences which means that we didn't spank our kids, do time outs or "punish" them in a traditional sense. That's not to say that they have NEVER been spanked in their lives but it is VERY rare for us to put our hands on them and we are not really big yellers either. We believe very strongly in natural consequences.
For instance, when they were younger, if they didn't pick up their toys, those toys would go away for a while. If you refuse to put on your jacket, the natural consequence is that you will be cold. If they were acting like a**holes, the natural consequence is that you will have to go somewhere alone and work out your feelings until you are not an a**hole anymore. I don't need to spank you or sit you in the corner, you live and you learn.
We encouraged our children to be independent but we also have always been accessible to them. I never spoonfed my kids. When they were learning to eat, I put food down in front of them and let them eat with their hands and then they learned to eat with their own spoon. I switched them to open top cups as soon as they could drink out of them. I let them play alone and entertain themselves. I allowed them to do things on their own and help me with things. Sure, it made life messier and was sometimes inconvenient but that's how they learn.
We tried to make them independent but I nursed them until they were 2, we allowed them to co-sleep with us until they decided they didn't want to anymore (which was 8 and 9 years old), I carried them alot.
We have always spoken to our children honestly and directly. I never spoke baby talk to them, we told them the correct terms for their body parts, we always let them know that they could tell us ANYTHING and I have always been honest with them and tried to explain things in age appropriate ways. They sometimes asked hard questions -Do kids die? Why do some parents leave? Where do babies come from?
I never shied away from their hard questions and I never acted freaked out. I always told the truth to them. I have made great efforts to speak to them like fellow human beings - to not condescend them and to take their opinions into consideration. They've helped make family rules, they get a say in the big things and little things. While my husband and I have ultimate veto power, they get a say too. We've worked to build a relationship on mutual respect. We are not because-I-said-so kind of parents. I will always explain the reasoning behind why I do things - not because I have to but because I would like the same respect paid to me. I never felt like I needed to control them. I am not a dictator. I am a mother, a teacher, a guide.
We always wanted our kids to know they could do anything. They had dolls, toy kitchens and "girlie toys" but also Lincoln Logs, a play tool set, a dump truck, a doctors kit. We exposed them to Barbies and comic book characters. We rarely "no" to fun things. I let them play in the rain, take off their shoes and walk in the grass, I let them stay up late to watch fireworks, I took them to museums and fancy restaurants. We've lived in their kid world but we also have let them tag along in our grown up world.
I can't even tell you how much sh*t I had to hear about it. My kids are never going to independent, they are going to commit crimes because I don't spank them, I'm going to need to get the breastfeeding mom dorms when they go away to college....
That is how we have chosen to raise our children. Does that mean that I think the way we are raising them is the best way to raise kids and that people that raise their kids differently than us are doing it wrong? NO WAY. It is the best way for OUR family and it is the only way that I know how to be.
I felt less judged during the elementary school years because a lot of the things that matter in the early years don't matter as much but as my kids have been creeping up in age, I definitely feel more judged.
I was at a friend's house the other day and I was telling a story about my children or one of their friend's. My friend (who reads my blog) was laughing and said, "Why don't you blog about this stuff?"
For many reasons, because I value the privacy of my children and their friends. Some things are off limits and also, I don't want to be judged.
I've lived in the teenage world for a little while. My daughter is one of the last of her classmates to turn 13 and she has a lot of friends the grade above her so most of her friends are getting ready to turn 14 and 15. Here is a small sampling of actual things I have heard come out of actual middle schooler's mouths:
"You got margaritas?"
"So....there was this 5th grader watching PornHub on the bus today."
"4:20 Blazin'!"
"What else are we supposed to do if they never let us be alone together?"
"Waterfalls of jizz...."
"Who wants to play 7 Minutes in...."
"Seventh graders at my school smoke weed but it's not even good weed though. I don't smoke but I'm probably going to vape."
"My dad says I have to be 21 to, you know, "do it", but I'm not going to follow that rule."
"Dude! There is a lady in the Guiness Book of World Records for most queefs in a row."
These statements may shock you and concern you. I am shocked sometimes, mostly fascinated. Teenagers have secrets, that should be no surprise. Speaking of teenagers secrets, I discovered these socks in my 13 year old's room the other day. She convinced some boy to buy them for her.
I let her keep them with the agreement that she only wear them in the house. Truly, socks with the word F*ck on them is not really a big deal to me in the grand scheme of things.
This is who my daughter is. She is the kind of person that would wear socks that say "My cat is cool as f*ck." I am under no delusions about who she is. People sometimes act like their kids are perfect and I'm over here like.
I do not allow my children to curse but do I think they drop the F bomb when they are alone with their friends? Of course they do. They all do. I'm almost 98% sure my 11 year old gives me the finger when I walk out of the room. I can't do anything about that.
I always have a chuckle when I'm among friends and I hear, "Kids today are BAD. I don't remember us being this bad when I was a kid."
WHAT?!?! The teenagers were HORRIBLE when we were that age, over 20 years ago now. I definitely knew kids who were experimenting with alcohol, marijuana, and smoking cigarettes. Every other word out of your friend's mouth was a curse word. Boys and girls were sneaking behind hot water heaters in friend's basements and getting to 2nd and 3rd base. We didn't have text messages but teenagers were sending some questionable sh*t through AOL messenger, and before that it was written notes. Kids have always figured out ways to communicate with their peers under the radar.
We can get on our high horse about how depraved our society is now and how things were so much more innocent back then but let me remind all the 80's babies that:
-In middle school, you walked around with your arms crossed above your crotch telling people to "suck it!"
-You slow danced with the opposite sex to "I'll Make Love to You" in the 6th grade.
- You may have drank a Seagrams when your parent's were asleep.
- You probably turned on channel 99 and watched scrambled porn with your friends after midnight and laughed when the picture became clear for half a second
- You may have discussed the president receiving a blow job in your high school history class.
- You coughed and sputtered when you tried to take a drag of your friend's cigarette
My point is not to say that all those things are okay, certainly we've been in a moral decline for decades. My father tells me INSANE stories about being a teenager in the 70's that makes my experiences seem tame. My point is that it's been the argument since the beginning of time. Every generation thinks the youth is more corrupt than they were.
1816- "The indecent foreign dance called the Waltz was introduced ... at the English Court on Friday last ... It is quite sufficient to cast one's eyes on the voluptuous intertwining of the limbs, and close compressure of the bodies ... to see that it is far indeed removed from the modest reserve which has hitherto been considered distinctive of English females...[Now that it is] forced on the respectable classes of society by the evil example of their superiors, we feel it a duty to warn every parent against exposing his daughter to so fatal a contagion."
1790- The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth; and prevented others from improving their minds in useful knowledge. Parents take care to feed their children with wholesome diet; and yet how unconcerned about the provision for the mind, whether they are furnished with salutary food, or with trash, chaff, or poison.
1926-...[The screen artists'] beauty, their exquisite clothing, their lax habits and low moral standards, are becoming unconsciously appropriated by the plastic minds of American youth.
1695- ... I find by sad Experience how the Towns and Streets are filled with lewd wicked Children, and many Children as they have played about the Streets have been heard to curse and swear and call one another Nick-names, and it would grieve ones Heart to hear what bawdy and filthy Communications proceeds from the Mouths of such...
It really is a tale as old as time. Some things are universal. It's just part of the human experience. Teenagers will always be misunderstood and parents will always be fighting the good fight to keep their offspring on the straight and narrow path.
Our kids don't think we understand what they are going through- and in a lot of ways they are right. Their world is so much different then the world was when we were coming of age, and our world was very different then the one our parent's experienced. It is the way it is, times change. The problem is not that we don't remember what it was like to be an adolescent but maybe that we remember TOO clearly and it scares us to death.
We often make our children pay the price for the mistakes of our youth. My own parents were very strict during my adolescence. They didn't want me to repeat their mistakes. I have a much better understanding of that now that I am a parent myself. While they were well-meaning, they held on to me so tightly that they squeezed the soul out of me. I nearly suffocated under the weight of the pressure.
My husband and I were both pretty good kids. My husband did some questionable things during his middle school years but in high school he stayed out of trouble completely. He just ate cheesesteaks and played video games until I came along and corrupted him. I had a terrible mouth but I was a good student. I never have tried drugs, I've never smoked pot ever in my life. I got drunk once with my cousin when I was 16 and never drank again until I was, like 26. I did like the boys a lot but that didn't make me a bad kid. That's just biology.
It definitely shaped who I am as a person, and also the way I have chosen to raise our children. Stay with me, people- this rambling will come full circle.
We have big kids now which means they have bigger problems. The consequences of their actions now can have long-lasting impacts. That being said, we still parent our children the way we always have. Which can be hard because everyone is watching and everyone is judging.
I don't expect my children to be perfect. These are the years that they will come of age. They will certainly make mistakes. You have to make mistakes- that's how you learn who you are, that's how you develop life skills. You live and you learn. Life will teach you lessons and these years will be full of them. They will fall in love and have their hearts broken. They will probably do and say things that I don't approve of. That's all par for the course.
They know right from wrong, they know our opinions and expectations on most everything. My job now is to provide them with healthy boundaries, keep them safe, pick my battles, provide them with opportunities to grow as individuals and love them.
I do not own my children. I can teach them and guide them but I don't control their thoughts and beliefs. They will have to gather their own life experiences and develop their own truths. They will make their own decisions about things. They will make their beds and lie in them. That's how this life thing works.
I know that people will judge me. They will judge the fact that I am allowing them to do online school, they judge me because I allow my daughter to participate in band with high schoolers, they will judge me because I let my daughter wear eyeliner and keep her f*ck socks, they will judge me for always speaking honestly about everything, they will judge me for not grounding and beating them them.....I could go on and on but like I said before, it becomes exhausting.
I just have to remind myself that this is how we are, it is the only way we know how to be, and we have done a damn good job so far. I don't have perfect children but I have amazing children.
I am worried but not WORRIED about the youth. I think they will be just fine. I think the kids nowadays are great. They are no better or worse than the generations before them. Many of them are smart, funny, and kind. I am encouraged and I think the future is bright. This generation will go on to do great things, they will do what all the people that came before them have done - "figure it out." Then, in 20-30 years, when their children come of age, they will lament about the moral degradation of society and reminisce about the innocence of their own youth.
My oldest daughter turned 13 on Wednesday. I have a teenager. She sure does act like one already, so my life is not jarred by this transition.
The night before her birthday, I went out to dinner with my husband and some friends. Afterwards, I picked her up from band practice. "Did you bring me home leftovers?" she asked. "No, but you can fix yourself something when we got home." She was hangry and was being a huge beeotch about it. "Mom! That's not fair, I only had a bowl of soup and I didn't get to finish it because you rushed me!"
Keep in mind, she knew ALL day that we had to leave at 5:40 but she decided to come downstairs to eat dinner at 5:34 because she was busy doing her hair. Not my fault.
She just kept running her mouth. Finally, I'd had enough. "I just want to remind you that 13 years ago, I pushed you out of my actual vagina so I'm going to need you to show me a little more respect."
She laughed, "You are grossest person in the world." Truth.
Thirteen years ago, she was born. I can see it so vividly in my minds eye- watching her head come out of my body, her bird-like cry, the way she curled up on my chest and fell asleep - night after night as she transitioned into the world. I remember the years in between then and now. Curled up with her on the couch watching Strawberry Shortcake, her tiny hands on my face, the pitter patter of little feet through the house.
But now, she stands before me, in a woman's body and stares me straight in the eyes and I find it hard to believe that she was ever a baby, that her heart beat inside of me. It seems like a lifetime ago now.
The past few years have certainly been challenging, as we have navigated this strange world of puberty and middle school and life.
Even though she was being grumpy the day before her birthday, she is mostly agreeable. I would say that we have a close relationship. We are very open with each other and while she doesn't tell me everything, she tells me a lot of things.
I always offer my grown-up perspective on things which sometimes she appreciates and sometimes she hates. It depends on her mood. "OMG, mom! I don't need your lectures." I am quick to remind her, "I'm your mother, not your friend." (That's a whole other blog, for another time)
She loves doing hair and make-up. She can french braid her hair with no mirror - which I am amazed by because I can't even brush my hair good in front of a mirror. She is a little amateur make-up artist. She'll spend 20 minutes doing her eyeliner. We call her our Egyptian princess. Whenever she gets money she begs me to take her to Sephora. I don't know about that life. I wear lip gloss from the grocery store.
When she isn't sitting in front of a mirror, she is playing music. She is always learning some song on the flute. She loves to entertain us. She's been practicing her state solo, which is a beautiful piece. I'll be in the kitchen or doing laundry and she will run in with her flute and make me stop what I'm doing to listen. She plays the keyboard. She taught herself Moonlight Sonata and Swan Lake. We got her a violin for her birthday and by the next day she had learned Twinkle Twinkle little star. That is how she sends MOST of her time - playing music and listening to music.
She has a very eclectic taste in music. She LOVES classical music - Mozart, Beethoven, concert band pieces, soundtracks (The Kiss from the Last of the Mohicans is her favorite). She loves Lana Del Rey and BORNS. Sometimes it's Nirvana and Pink Floyd and sometimes it's shitty pop and hip-hop music. Her taste in music is the reflection of who she is as a person - so many different layers.
She is very outgoing and very confident (sometimes too confident and I'm like, let's take it down a few notches) and other times she is quiet and reserved. She is VERY sensitive and will shut down completely if you hurt her feelings. If you yell at her or when you call her on her shit, she can't even handle it. That worries me a little bit, she is going to need a thicker skin to make it through this life.
She is a little boy crazy, which I think will be our biggest challenge in the coming years. The boys....they started showing up at my house in 6th grade. They stand on my front porch, shifting nervously. "Is your daughter here, Miss B?"
Lord help me. I'm getting it back 3 times, for sure. The boys will be the death of us.
I have a teenage daughter now and while a piece of me mourns (you know that silent mourning, I often refer to), I remind myself that this is what we've prepared for. Older, more seasoned parents often tell young parents, "Oh! Just wait until the teenage years."
But the teenage years seem so abstract and so distant when you are a chasing toddlers and enduring sleepless nights. They might even seem glamorous - surely my life looks easy to a parents of young children. In a lot of ways it is. I don't change diapers, my daughter can do her own laundry and make meals. That part is easier. The part that is hard as your children grow- is that they have their own lives outside of you. They deal with problems that you can't fix. You will watch them struggle and deal with heartbreak and disappointment. It will push you to the brink emotionally, it will keep you up at night, it will make your blood run cold....and I'm just at the beginning of this coming-of-age time.
This time is a rite of passage, for her but also for us as parents. It's as eternal as time itself and at the end of it, if I do my job well, she will be separate from me. She will go forward, into the world, and build her own life. And one day, when she has children of her own, she will understand my love and sacrifice and she will realize that her heart never really stopped beating inside of me.
