Slow Down

                  
I was texting with a friend this week and we were remarking about the children and she said, "Yours are on fast forward!" Yes, it certainly feels that way. Everyone tells you that it will be that way. "Enjoy the time, it goes by fast." "You'll blink your eyes and then they are grown." It really is true.

My youngest is ready to break free of middle school. On the way to school this morning she was like, "I'm just ready to move on with it." It's kind of weird to think that after 6 years, I won't have kids at the middle school anymore. I think the middle school years are the hardest ones so far, so I'm glad about it.

She has really grown as a person these past few years. The transition out of gymnastics has been difficult for her but she has joined the track team and found a new love. I am really proud of her. I think it took a lot of guts for her to try something new. She really enjoys it. I think for the first time in years, she is really enjoying her life. She is coming into her own.

A few weeks ago, she came home after practice and I asked how it was. "We ran a mile today. I was the third-to-last in." She looked a bit disappointed but followed with, "But I finished." I love that about her. About both my girls actually, they just go out there and do their best.

They did a Run-a-Thon a few Saturday's back and her sister had an audition that day. I figured out that I could go to the audition and then catch the last hour of the Run-a-Thon. I sat in the stands and just quietly watched her run. I didn't call her name or wave. She hates having attention brought to her. Afterward, she seemed annoyed with me. "You didn't need to come, you know. I'm independent. I don't need you here."

She doesn't realize. She thinks that I show up because I THINK she needs me there. I had to laugh at that. No. No, she doesn't. She doesn't NEED me to be there. She can totally go to her meets and do fine and I don't need to be there. But I will be there. On the way home, I tried to explain it to her. If she is competing, I will be there. Every time. What else am I going to do? Sit at home on a Saturday while she is competing? Sometimes with two kids, they have events at the same time, so we divide and conquer, but there is always someone there. Sure I go to support them but I go for ME. I love the shit out of these kids. We invest time and money. There is nowhere I would rather be. I only have this time for a little bit.

So she agreed that I can go to meets, not scrimmages. I'm not allowed to call out her name, but I can watch. I agreed to her terms and conditions. But I know, when she grows up she will be glad that I showed up for her.

She picked her high school classes last week. She is so funny. She wants to graduate high school with her associate's degree. So she has been pouring over the schedule. She is interested in the middle college in 11th grade as well as CLEP. The other night at dinner she was like, "Tell me how CLEP tests work again?" She can totally do it. She is smart. Like, doesn't have to try that hard smart. So we were in the guidance office and she had to pick her electives and she was having the hardest time. "I'd like auto-tech," she said. It took me by surprise, "Auto-tech?" She nodded. "Well, some of these classes I'll never use, but I will be driving a car my entire life so it will teach me things I need to know." So logical. So sensible. That is who she is.

 She applied to the Governor's School Summer Program in the fall. We told her that she had to do a summer camp this year. She liked the idea of forensic camp. We looked at some programs in the South East. $3,000+ for one week. WTF?!?!?! Who can even afford that? She is interested in the Governor's School but was having this whole hang-up of being in her sister's shadow. She applied for Creative Writing, which is a totally different art area so I don't think that will be an issue. It's her chance to shine at something she is good it. She's a wonderful writer. She was writing fan fiction last year and sharing it with all her friends. A weird thing for a 7th grader, but something she enjoyed. I think it will be a good experience for her. She has good things going for her.

My oldest daughter is like sand between my fingers. Sophomore year will be over in a flash. She got her drivers license the other day, which she was so excited about. I watched her as she stood in front of the white screen and I couldn't help but wonder what happened to my little girl. She is a young woman. She looks just like I did when I was her age, except for her father's eyebrows.  It's so weird, sometimes I feel like I'm looking at a reflection of myself.

On the way home I said, "I'm going to miss our car rides together. I like having you trapped in the car with me." She laughed, "You'll figure out another way." As soon as we got home, she left to take an instrument to her friend's house. I handed her my keys, "Fill up my tank while you are out." She nodded, "Yes, ma'am." Then, she just got into the car and drove off. That night we laid in bed and went through the highlights of our day. "I can't believe our kid is going to drive herself to school tomorrow." My husband sighed, "It is both joyful and terrifying."

Only two years left until college. She MAY go live 3 hours away at a residential high school starting next year. We should find out on April 1st if she is accepted. I feel anxious. I am one that needs to plan and there will be lots to do.

Her 1 year Chik-fil-a work anniversary is April 6th. She is excited about that. I'm proud of her sticking with God's chicken. From the outside, she kind of looks like a spoiled princess but she cleans toilets and takes out the trash and works HARD. It is good for her soul. We are proud as hell of her.

 We are working on teaching her adulting. I make her fill out her own paperwork now and see the doctor herself. She had an appointment a few weeks ago and I didn't go back with her. "You know what pharmacy we use, don't forget a doctor's note." I waited in the waiting room and after a while, I got a text from her. "The doctor just left. What do I do? Can I just leave?" I chuckled. She hated it, but she did it.

Both the girls have debit cards. When she gets paid, she is responsible for depositing her own check. Her card was compromised and we showed her how to notify the bank. When her new card came in, we made her activate it and set up her pin. When she wanted to switch a class out this semester, I did not call the school. I told her to go to the guidance counselor and fill out the paperwork and she did.

It's not her favorite, but we are really pushing her to do a lot of things on her own and manage her life. Sometimes, I think she thinks that I'm trying to cut her loose or something. I know that it's going to be easier for her to learn how to do these things NOW while we are here than to send her out into the world to figure it out. We are in the consultive stage of parenting.

It's weird because when you have a baby, your time is spent just keeping them alive and surviving. Then one day, they become toddlers and you feel a sense of panic. Of "Oh Shit! I have to teach you how to be a human being." You spend your days teaching them basic life skills. You take them in the bathroom with you so they can learn how to wipe their ass. You teach them to drink from an open cup. You teach them to walk. They hold onto your fingers and take a step or 2, holding on for dear life. They can do it, you know they can, but they need you there. Then, they walk on their own. At first, it isn't pretty; they bang into walls and fall down. You're taking them to the grocery store with a big-ass bruise in the middle of their forehead hoping nobody calls CPS on you.

You take them to the park and they wander and they play, but every so often they look back JUST to make sure you are still there. You are, they are reassured and then they go back to playing. So much work goes into those years, but then you have a functional human being.

Then, you enter the golden years, 4-9. Great years. The kids wipe their own ass, they fix their own snacks, you can mostly reason with them. They are fun, funny, joyful. They are not self-aware yet so they are full of confidence and love themselves. AND you. It's the best time in childhood.

Then comes puberty. Which is basically 3-4 years of confused screaming.
                            

Then comes this part. The pre-launch. It is EXACTLY like toddler parenting accept on a deeper, more complex level. It's like we are teaching her to walk and she is holding onto our fingers. Really, she's doing it. But we are here- helping, guiding, and reassuring.

I think both the kids are going to be fine. I used to be so overwhelmed with the number of things I needed to teach them to succeed and function in life. Sometimes, they are not willing to learn. But I have come to realize that they do not need to know it all when they leave us and go off into the world. They simply have the confidence that they can and will figure it out. They need to be flexible and have grit. They will. They are not special snowflakes. They are strong, they will do great.

The girls often tell us that they don't want to grow up. A concept that baffles my husband and I. We wanted nothing more than to grow up but our circumstances are different than theirs. The idea of growing up seems so overwhelming and terrible. Becoming a grown-up is like going to Tokyo. You get ready to go, you think you are prepared. You watched the movies, you know what it looks like and made your plans. Then you show up in Tokyo and it looks like the movies you'd watched but everything is bigger and brighter and the language barrier is much more intimidating than you expected.

You get on the wrong train. You are tired. You are frustrated. You wonder if you had made a terrible mistake and could just go home. But you can't because you are in Tokyo now. So the next day, you revise your plans a bit. You go back out into the city and explore. Things are still a little confusing, but better. On the third day, you know exactly where you are going. It's still a little strange but you feel much more comfortable. By the end, you feel like you've lived there for months. You've adjusted to the customs and the food. It's different than anything you'd ever known but not in a bad way. Also, you have spent all your money.

We explained it to them that way (imagine visiting Japan in middle school, what a life) and they were like "Oh! That makes sense." Like is like that - you make plans and you are flexible and you figure it out.

I am trying to take it all in. Even when it feels overwhelming, even when I feel like life is on fast forward and I would do anything to make it slow down. I try to burn moments into my memories. These are good years.

Under Pressure

Everyone in my house is stressed out right now. I hate it so much. My husband has been crazy busy at work and he is ALMOST done school. This man is at the finish line. I need him to be done. Every spare minute he has the past 3 years is writing a paper or studying for a test. I feel bad for him. He's stressed.

 My oldest is in a bunch of clubs, we are in full audition season, she is taking Algebra 2 this semester and math is her kryptonite. I try to give her pep-talks every day. "Okay, I'm going to need you to not cry in math class today. Just try. Please." She is getting help from her former math teacher which is helping but the amount of homework has been off the chain. Honestly, f*ck Algebra 2. They need to replace Algebra 2 with Math in Life where they teach kids about mortgages, calculating interest, doing taxes and making budgets. Advanced math should be offered but advanced math is not for everyone. Advanced math was not for me. I feel for her. 

My youngest is stressed. She joined the track team. I am SUPER proud of her. She is a creature of habit and she really had to step out of her comfort zone. She really likes it. It's not track that's stressing her out though. It's school. Spanish is killing her softly. She gets upset if she doesn't have 98s or above. That is not coming from me. I'm over here like: a 91 is still an A, Bs are pretty good, Cs get degrees. The other night she was having a flip-out about school and I finally was like, "You are going to need better coping skills or to lower your standards." She hated me for saying that. She cannot take AP in high school. The level of suffering is high. 

I'm stressed but that is a constant state of existence for me. I have a zillion work projects, my house needs to be cleaned. My house is clean but it needs to be DEEP cleaned. Baseboards need to be repainted, carpets need to be steamed, the tile needs to be scrubbed. Uggggh. Everyone has had doctors appointment this month. We are going on our 9th appointment this upcoming week. Dentist appointments, eye appointments, orthodontist appointments, physicals.... There is the mental load of keeping track of upcoming events and making sure the household is running smoothly. Everyone being stressed out is stressing me out. This shit is wack. 

Yesterday was my birthday. I had a ton of things to do. I woke up just exhausted. My husband made breakfast and lunches and cleaned the kitchen for me because he is an actual saint. The kids were low-key grumpy. I was like, "Can I have one day a year where you are pleasant in the morning or is that a no?" That put me in a bad mood. I worked in the morning and then I needed to go to the grocery store. 

I got my list together and then I googled what kind of free shit I could get for my birthday. Moes gives you a free burrito on your birthday if you download their app. I did it, I put my birthday in. They never sent my reward for a free burrito. I was hardcore triggered. Never eating at Moes again.

I just wore my yoga pants and sweatshirt to the grocery store. I looked like a hobo but that's how I always look so whatever. On the way home, I stopped at the liquor store to get a gift for my friend. She has the same birthday as me and invited us over for steaks and boardgames. I go in and get her signature drink and went up to the cashier. 

I always get carded. Like 95% of the time. I like it. It appeals to my ego. This lady looked me up and down and said, "Okay. That will be $12." I slunk back to my car with my black bag feeling sorry for myself. I came home and unloaded the groceries. I was tired. 

I made myself lunch and then I decided I would fix a hot chocolate and read the news and take a little rest. I sat there feeling bad for myself. I look like an old hag, my kids don't appreciate me, I'm 36 and what am I doing with my life? My growing to-do list was looming over my head.....

Then I said, "F*ck this!" I decided I was going to shirk my responsibilities. I texted my friend and told her I was dressing up because I needed to feel pretty. That's what I did. I took a hot bath. I shaved my legs. I took a long nap. I put on a cute dress that I stole from my teenage daughter. It's actually mine because I purchased it so I didn't actually steal it. 

I did my hair and make-up. Then, I stood in front of the mirror and I studied my face. Is it the same face that it's always been? We change so slowly, how can one even tell? I have this line on my brow and some crows feet but I can see myself still. I felt pretty, like a woman. I never feel like a woman. I mostly just feel like a scullery maid. I'm a mom. I'm dedicated to that but sometimes I just want to be a sexy lady. Sometimes I just want to belong to myself. Does that make sense?

I came downstairs and my husband was rushing around loading things into the car. "I'm going to need you to stop what you are doing and tell me that I am beautiful." He put his arms around me and kissed me on the mouth. "You're always beautiful." 

I wouldn't say always, but husbands over time learn what they are supposed to say. We had steaks and asparagus with our friends and then cheesecake and cocktails for dessert. We played games and laughed. It was a nice, low-key night. In the end, my birthday was not complete garbage.

But today is a new day. Because I shirked my responsibilities yesterday afternoon, I now get to suffer all weekend. Oh well, it was kind of worth it. 

Here Comes My Annual Pre-Birthday Existential Crisis

My birthday is on Friday. I used to hate my birthday. I never understood the people who celebrate all month, all weekend.  I haven't looked forward to my birthday for a long as I can remember. Growing up it kind of just felt like an afterthought. I do celebrate it. I let my husband do things for me, and we always have cake and blow out candles but for years I simply did it for my husband and children. Because it would be low-key weird and f*cked up if you don't celebrate mom's birthday.

I've grown neutral about my birthday in the past few years. I don't dread it like I used to. I just accept it. I use it as an excuse to be lazy, which is nice. I still will do the shit that I need to do. Run errands. Do the laundry. My husband will inevitably be annoyed that I did the laundry on my birthday and I will remind him that I am not a special princess and that life must go on.

Last year was great because we went to Mexico City to celebrate my birthday. What an amazing trip it was. We got back the day before my actual birthday. I got so sick. Last year on my actual birthday, I was legit dying. My husband made a cake and everything and I was like, "I can only eat toast and drink Gatorade." I shit 80 times that week. EIGHTY. I remember because I kept count. I walked out of the bathroom at 3 in the morning, my husband looked concerned. "Are you okay?" I cried. "I shit EIGHTY times this week. I think I might be dying." "Dude, you should go to the hospital." I was like, "Nah. I'm about to drink 100 oz of Gatorade though." That's a memory. The other day I asked him, "Remember when I was shitting myself on my birthday last year?" He was like:
                                          
I can laugh about it now but it was bad. I can't just take a trip every year on my birthday - I can't really afford it, plus January is a sucky month for weather. So I am accepting my annual pre-birthday existential crisis.

I will be 36 years old. That's young. It's young but old enough that I know things so I think it's a good age to be. I honestly don't mind getting older. I'm in great shape, I feel good, my life really isn't that hard. I really should have no complaints. The thing is, I can't escape this crushing feeling that I haven't accomplished anything in my life.

Which, on the surface is crazy. I have checked off the boxes. Married for 17 years, 2 beautiful children, graduated from college, own my home, had amazing jobs, became a lactation consultant, I volunteer. What more do I want? I think that is the craziest thing. I really don't know. Maybe I thought I would be more interesting or something. I don't really care about having a lot of money or notoriety. I guess that's for me to find out. What fun would it be to accomplish all of the things? You know?

I look back at my life and I feel like most of what I have accomplished is really overcoming obstacles. I have been through very dark times in my life and I have walked through that. I am a child bride that somehow stayed married and we love each other. I had two kids in college and I finished. I feel like I spent the first part of my life really climbing and clawing to get on everyone else's level.

I think my biggest accomplishment is my kids. Which is such a bullshit, cliche thing to say. I have dedicated my lives to them. Fully and completely. I know that they feel loved and supported. I have great relationships with them. So that is a win.

I have helped a lot of moms. A ton. I am good at getting a baby on a boob. Does that count as an accomplishment? I have talked many new moms through breakdowns. That is something good I did.

I have a servant's heart. I am always willing to help out. I have spent years volunteering my time. In the classroom, for my kid's activities. I hate how they make fun of PTA moms on the internet. We aren't all pseudo-power hungry upitty bitches. I do what I can, when I can and it has given me satisfaction.

I am a stand-in mom to other kids. Sometimes I'll walk into school and I'll hear "Hey mom!" "Madre!" and it's not my kid. I always get random hugs from kids. I have watched many of these kids grow up. I'll be at the middle school and this big 8th grader will walk up to me and I'll say, "I remember when you were in 3rd grade and you always wore the same red pants. They were your favorite." It's crazy because I do remember things like that.

Just yesterday, I went to pick up my daughter's two friends from the high school. She wasn't even there because she had an eye doctor appointment that ran late. I was taking her friend to an event that was part of her birthday present. Love this child, would do anything for her. I'll call her Adopted, because I always say she's my adopted child.

As I'm driving, I'm thinking about how I'm turning 36 and have not accomplished anything in my life.  I spend a LOT of time in the car and that's what I do - contemplate life.....or sing songs about selling drugs and big booty hoes. There is no in-between. On this particular day, I was contemplating life.

I pull up to the school and the kids get in the car. I ask Adopted how her day was. She just sobbed. And sobbed and sobbed. Then she started to talk. Once they start to talk, it all comes out. She told me all the things that were upsetting her. I just drove and listened. I dropped off the other friend, picked up my oldest and dropped her off at work, and then it was just me and Adopted going to this event together.

We talked about everything. I gave my insight as an adult. And reassurance. Sometimes kids want guidance on how to solve their problems and sometimes they just want someone to tell them that it will be okay. Life can be so heavy sometimes for these kids and they have to know that it gets better. It doesn't always get less heavy, but you get stronger and the load gets easier to carry. She was better. She had gotten it all out.

After the event, I said, "You want Chik-fil-a?" That always helps a hard day. She was so cute, "Can I get a milkshake too?" she asked. "Yeah, bitch!" I replied. I really did say that. I don't want anyone going around thinking I am a saint or anything. I got her Chikfila and drove her home and she was in good spirits. She spoke about plans for this weekend and we joked.

After I dropped her off, I drove home and was like, "Okay, God. I get it." And I do. I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing. It is not glamorous, there is no praise or recognition but I have done good in my life. I have a good heart and I always try to do the right thing. That has to count for something, right?

Besides, I'm only 36. I am young. Bram Stoker didn't write Dracula until he was 50, Julia Child was 51 when she published her first cookbook, Henry Ford didn't design the Model T until he was 45. Maybe I will do great things. Maybe I'll write a book or become a stand-up comedian. I'll be like, "So, this one time, I shit EIGHTY times in a week...." I don't know what will happen but I'm going to bank on the fact that one day I'll be pretty damn great.

Parents of Teenagers Bingo

                              
My husband and I were driving to a party a few weeks ago and having a chat. He was telling me about work. He works with other dads and I'm pretty sure we have the oldest kids of the bunch. He laughs because sometimes they will come to him for advice. You know, a seasoned, veteran dad with two teenage daughters who hasn't run away yet - there has to be some wisdom there.

So his co-worker was explaining this situation where his 7-year-old daughter went to a friend's house and they watched a show or listened to a song she's not allowed to at home. It wasn't anything scandalous but still, it broke the rules. And he was like, "How do you get your daughters to do what you want them to do?" He laughed and laughed and was like, "I don't." And the guy was like,
                                               
My husband said, "Yeah, I really feel bad because I feel like they want me to bring them some sort of reassurance or something. He says stuff like, "My kids will never......" and I'm like, "They probably will." Then he went on to talk about this other guy that has a baby and he thinks my husband is just the best dad ever and that our kids are the best. I chuckled. "Well, it seems like our social media family PR campaign is working." Bless us.

The thing is, my husband is an amazing father and I have great kids. Highly involved, highly motivated, smart, healthy, beautiful girls. Some of that we have something to do with and most of it, they get full credit. They are great kids but they are not perfect. They are like any other kids. But no one is going to share their kids' mistakes and fuck-ups like they do their accomplishments. Although, Facebook would be a lot funnier if they did.

How DO you get your kids to do what you want them to do? Isn't that the eternal question? Everyone knows that kids just do what they want to do. Jerks. All you can do is instill your morals and values into them early, talk to them, and establish rules and boundaries. That's all you can do. Then, they have to make their own decisions. They are not extensions of us. They are their own people, with their own ideas and free will. As parents, we think we have control and in some ways we do, but much less than we think we do. There are environments that we can control but we can't control who they are. We can't be with them 100% of the time.

Welcome to Parent of Teenagers Bingo

                   
It's like the shittiest game of BINGO because instead of winning money, you only get a nervous breakdown. This is not a comprehensive list, for sure. I mean, that's all that will fit on the board. If your kids haven't reached this age yet - take a look. Really, it's like pick your own adventure.

I laugh but it's really not even funny. You have all these lofty ideals and expectations and then you find yourself sitting on the couch (probably during the middle school years) with your head in your hands, praying to God that you survive this. That is some real parent shit. Then after a few years you'll be like:
        

Don't say "not your kid." Not because I think it's a naive or self-righteous thing but because saying "not my kid' is bad juju. Every not-my-kid person I know has had a rough time. I more of a I-hope-not-my-kid-but-anything-is-possible kind of mom. hahaha. I'm more of a probably-but-hopefully-no one-finds-out kind of mom.

I always send my kids horrible articles as "warnings" about things and they are always like, "I would never do this" and I'm like, "I'm just making you aware." Anytime, I see a new article about something I feel like they need to know about, I send it over:

"Girl Electrocutes Self in the Tub While Charging Cellphone with an Extension Cord."
"Honor Students Die After Taking Drugs for the First Time."
"New STD Discovered."
"Teens Lung Collapses from Excessive Vaping"
"Teen Dies After Butt Chugging 40 oz of Vodka"
"High Schoolers Paralyzed After Texting and Driving"
"Girl Raped After Meeting Stranger in Target Parking Lot"

They need to know about these things. They are out there. I would like to think none of these things are possible for my girls but I'm going to talk about it JUST in case. You know? They get annoyed with me. But I'm just covering all my bases. If you do some dumb shit, that's on you because I told you.

In general, though, I have good kids. They keep out of trouble and if they are doing bad shit, I'm not aware of it and I'm just over here living in my blissful ignorance. So good luck with the child-rearing. May you only win Bingo once or twice.