A holiday ode to my kids

Twas about a week after Christmas

and all through the house

the hubby and I awake in bed

laying there as quiet as a mouse

We were silently appreciating

our house full of discord

we knew it would soon be over

and all would be bored

Our teen and adult age children

and all of their friends

filling our home with chaos

we wished would never end

Slamming doors, laughing voices

stomping feet on the stairs

smells of 2am pizzas cooking

carelessly filling the air

Night after night of sleep interrupted

waking to a house in disorder

A grocery bill that makes your wallet cringe

and a laundry pile like no other

But all these things I cherish

there's no need to pretend

I realize my children will be grown soon and gone

my only wish is that these times would never end

How can it be?

Tony has gone and grown up.
In the span of 30 minutes.
Seriously!


He left the house today my baby
and came home a young man.


All due to a haircut.
Well, not really.

Sure, he's had plenty of haircuts before,
but I think there's this magically age
(usually around 8th or 9th grade)
where one day you look at your child
and suddenly you see a young adult.

With my 4th baby it just seemed to happen with the removal of about 5 pounds of hair.

I clearly remember the day I noticed Nae had changed over night.
It was the summer before her 8th grade year.
We were sitting in an auditorium for 8th grade orientation.
I looked over at her and thought "Holy cow! I see a woman!"
And I couldn't take my eyes off her.

And she noticed.

"Why do you keep staring at me?!!" she whispered.
"I'm not." I said nonchalantly and turned and tried to focus on the lady speaking.
That lasted all of 2 seconds and I was staring again.

"Will you stop?!!" she hissed.
"What?" I tried to pretend I was looking at something else that just happened to be over her shoulder.

She didn't buy it.
Mostly because I kept gawking.

But hey, I went through 38 hours of labor!
I figure I'm entitled to a little gawking.

Can I have an 'amen' ?!

Anyhoo, of course, I'd love to prove my point by sharing "before and after" pictures of Tony.
And of course, being the teen that he is, he refused to let me take a picture.

I could go up and take one of him sleeping....

Please note that I am showing great restraint right now.
Yep, I'm a good mom.

learning from my kids

A friend of mine keeps reminding me that I need to "live in the moment".

See, I'm a bit of a worrier.

I know I shouldn't.

I know it doesn't help anything.

I know it takes away my joy for today.

But I still do it.

I won't even tell you the things I worry about.

It would be too embarrassing.

But I will tell you that most of my worry revolves around my kids.

Obviously.

What mom doesn't.

My kids are healthy and happy right now.

That is huge.

So today I choose to live in the moment.

And not worry about what might (or what I know will) happen tomorrow.

I will enjoy watching them making their own choices.

Having fun.

Living.

Laughing.

Loving.

And maybe I can learn to follow their examples....

yes...I'm that easily manipulated

I'm a little surprised that my two older kids didn't figure it out first.

Nae is pretty smart and Bud has the ability see into the heart of anyone.
But it was Mac who stumbled on my weakness.

She is, after all, my third child who I'm blindly stumbling leading through this jungle called teenager life.

And Mac is especially good at putting on the charm and talking me into doing what she wants.

Let's just say that she "has a way of putting things".

Today she found a whole new way to manipulate me.

The unborn grand kids.

Yep.

Today she teasingly told me if I let her do what she wants I can have extra time with the grand kids.

Mac: "Come on Mom! Let me go PLEASE!!! I'll let you see my kids twice a week."

Me: "What?!!" (I was a little shocked. I had to take a moment to collect myself...I had never thought of tactic before) That's all I get?! How much do I get if I don't let you go?"

Mac: "Once a month."

Me: "What?!! I was planning on living next door to you and seeing them everyday! How could you do this to me?"

Mac: "Ha! yeah right!" (she thinks I'm kidding)

You will all be proud of me. I didn't give in.

I'm holding out for at least four days a week...

teens that are too polite

Tony had some new friends over after school yesterday.

Two of them came home with him after track practice. One of them, let's call him "Eddie", I picked up from his home.

The reason I'm calling him Eddie is because he reminded me of Eddie Haskell from Leave it to Beaver.

I didn't think of him like that immediately.

The first thing he said when getting in the car was "Thank you so much Mrs. Z (dang blog privacy thing again) for coming and picking me up." and I thought "what a polite young man."

I didn't even think that after he thanked me two more times before we got to our house.

I still wasn't thinking that when we got home and he thanked me profusely for the snacks and pop I had set out for all of them.

It was when we got in the car again to take them to our little village square so they could hang out with some other teens. "It's really nice of you to give us a ride Mrs. Z, thank you!" he says.

Tony, obviously annoyed, says "why do you keep kissing up to my mom?"

I'm a little shocked Tony has said this "Tony! He's just being polite! Maybe you should learn to be a little more polite"

And this is when he becomes "Eddie" to me...

he says (in a perfect Eddie Haskell voice) "Yes, Mrs. Z. Don't you find that teenagers can never be too polite?"

I said I didn't and we talked a little more on the subject. But the rest of the evening that conversation and his tone kept gnawing at me.

I decided two things

1. Teens can be a "little too polite" and

2. I don't trust that kid.

I will die! if you don't....

"Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part."


I first saw this quote when my Nae was a toddler. A friend had it framed and hanging in her kitchen. This friend is one of those mom's who seems to have it all together, all the time. She took me under her wing when I was a young single mom who didn't have a clue about anything, let alone being a good mom. She taught me a lot not only by word but by example. I would watch her with a kind of awe.


There's nothing that I ever wanted more than to be a good mom. It's obviously a hard thing to measure and one of my many weaknesses is being extremely hard on myself. Believe me, there's no one more critical of what I think, say or do than the little voice in my head.


It's also extremely dangerous to ask your teenage kids what they think of your parenting skills. I can't tell you how many broken hearted mom's I've heard recalling what their child said when they asked this question. Of course most teens will have a list of ways you can improve. They spend all kinds of time thinking about how unfair their parents are and how their life "sucks". It's a teen thing. In reality they are immature, have little life experience, and have no idea of the emotions, situations, or choices you as an parent have to face. You are only setting yourself up if you ask them that question.


That being said, if I were to die today, I feel I've done a pretty okay job. Yes, I've made lots of mistakes and I have lots of weaknesses (especially in the discipline area, for example) but that's the beauty of having a second half. Where I am weak, The Hubby is strong. And vice versa, of course.


All this serious talk aside (yes, I'm rambling) I think that if my "Wonder Mom" friend were to see me now, she would see that I have failed miserably when it comes to her quote. I hang my head in shame, as I admit, I am one of those parents who are constantly running things to their kids that they forget. Lunches, field trip money, gym clothes....you get the picture.


Yes, I've read all about the damage I am doing by allowing this. You don't need to tell me.


Each of my kids are forgetful (or unorganized) to a certain degree. Nae~only when she was overwhelmed, Bud~very rarely, Tony~once every couple of weeks maybe, and then there's Mac~oh! Mac!


The quote above seems to be written just for kids like Mac. You know, kids who are on the "dramatic" side. Most of the phone calls I get from Mac regarding this subject are frantic. Here's how one went that I got yesterday....

"Mom! I forgot _______! I will DIE if I don't turn it in today! I'm serious I will DIE! Will you please bring it?!!"


Mac has been working in the counseling office at school this semester. She was working when I went in there yesterday on this "emergency forgotten item" call. All the office ladies had obviously already heard of Mac's crisis.

"So....you're Mac's mom." the lady at the front desk said (I get this tone and look of sympathy a lot when first meeting Mac's teachers or coaches or friend's parents). All the ladies sitting at their desks behind her look up at me and nod their heads in some kind of understanding or something. (In Mac's defense, they all told me how much they love her and how much she makes them laugh.)

Mac rushes over from her desk and takes what she needs from me. Her friend Emily, is sharing her desk. She also thanks me for bringing it (so she wouldn't have to hear Mac lamenting all day about dying!!!).


That was yesterday, and wouldn't you know it, I get another call today. This one was more like "I will FAIL....blah, blah, blah"

I got the call right after she got to school this am. I thought to myself "I'll just jump in the shower and then run it over" but then on second thought.....

I went into the office this morning in my PJ's just hoping it would be the time when classes are changing. The ladies in the office seem so sweet and understanding (they DO work with teens all day).
I said "yes, I got another emergency call this morning. I don't want her to die!"
"Oh, well yes" she says in her sweet understanding voice "well, when does she need this?"
"Not until last hour" I said. "I could have showered first but I was hoping you guys could help me out. Could you just tell her how lovely I looked in my PJ's? Make it sound like I looked really embarrassing (I did). Maybe throw out the name of one of the cute boys in the school and say that I had a lovely conversation with him in the hall."

Who knows, maybe this will be the last call I get.

Sweet 16...

Mac turned 16 last Friday. I didn't get a chance to blog for her birthday because this weekend was spent running her all over the place to celebrate. I'm sure she was very bummed about that. Um, yeah.


We went to the Illinois Secretary of State so she could take her drivers test.


We had all kinds of issues getting her drivers permit when we first moved here. There was a bunch of confusion because she took drivers training in Michigan (but hadn't got her permit) so I would talk to one person on the phone and they would say "yes, it transfers" and then we would go into the Secretary of State office, wait in line forever, only to be told "no, it doesn't". Then I would be sent somewhere else...blah, blah, blah....it's a long story and not worth going into. Let's just say it took weeks and it was very frustrating.



So Tuesday, we go back to the Secretary of State and for some reason it's all messed up in their computer system. We are told that we may have to go back to the school (because they do their drivers training through the school systems) and start the whole run-around again! After much arguing and one very nice young lady who took 40 minutes (after her shift was over) to make some phone calls, we finally got the "go ahead" for Abbey to take her drivers test.


That was until the lady behind the counter asked if both of my license plates were mounted on my car (front and back). Shockingly, I had procrastinated on getting the stuff to put the front license plate on my car (hey, it's only been 9 months!). Mac gave me a look of "fear and I'm gonna kill you" with a little "you are so embarrassing" (I think every look she gives me has a little of the "you are so embarrassing" in it--it's a reflex).

I told her I would take care of it while trying to act like I wasn't panicking inside (she would kill me! How many 16 years old want to wait an extra day to get their license?) I'm thankful there are men out there who always have duct tape handy.
I was going to post a picture of my tape job, because I thought it turned out quite lovely, but then I remembered the whole blog safety privacy thingie.

Mac on the train going into the city to celebrate

After waiting a total of 2 1/2 hours they called Mac's name. I jumped up to the counter and the lady looked at me and said with a chuckle "you can't go with her".

I was pretty shocked because in Michigan the parent rides in the back seat which seems like a pretty good idea. You know, if your kid fails the test it's a good thing to be there and witness why they failed.

I can only imagine how many parents sitting in the waiting area have a hysterical kid come back from the road test and are trying to comfort them while trying to find out what happened from the test giver.

With my other two older kids I dreaded the road test. The tension is so high in the car and my "mommy instincts" want to kick in and try to make it better some how but you have to just sit there and be quiet (automatic fail if the parent talks or gives direction in Michigan). It's torture.

But I'll take that torture any day over sitting there for a half hour wondering. There were two other parents sitting there with me. A big guy with his daughter who kept pacing and had a nervous laugh and a petite lady whose eyes were as big as saucers and she looked like she might vomit at any minute. I tried to lighten the mood by saying they should at least serve us parents some alcohol or a Valium or something. The big guys just continued pacing and laughing his nervous laugh and the petite lady just got up and moved down a seat. I guess it wasn't funny.

Through the window I could see Mac skipping to the front door. An obvious sign that she passed.

She didn't want to drive home "I have too many phone calls to make" she said. So I spent the next 30 minutes listening to "guess what!....I got my license!.....shut up!.....I know!....." over and over again.

Mac and Sarah figuring out the bus system

All I can say is I'm glad it's over. Only one more kid to go....

Oh yeah! and Happy Birthday Mac!

gotta get a dictionary.

It's always entertaining for me to have all the kids together in one room and listen to them talk.

Over Thanksgiving break (yeah this is one of those posts that I started writing forever ago and kinda forgot about it and now since I have nothing else to say...well, you know) we revisited a conversation that we've had a few times in our house.


Tony claims that the meaning of certain words really don't mean much and you can insert them into any sentence at anytime and the meaning of what you are trying to say won't vary much.

Being that I LOVE words and finding out their meanings and discovering new ways to string them together to get a point across, I had to adamantly disagree (actually, this drove me crazy).


He choose the example "supple" for a word to be used anywhere and any time.

And for months now he will randomly insert it in sentences. Not very often. Just enough to get me to stop what I'm doing and give him "that look" (you know--the mom version of rolling her eyes but with a little bit of "I'm gonna smack you if you keep this up" look thrown in too--you know what I'm saying).

Then he gives me one of his "I'm the baby and I know you think I'm cute" smirks.

He uses it as an adverb:
"I ran supply today in gym class."

He uses it as an adjective:
"You should have seen that movie. It was really supple!"

He uses it as an interjection:
I'm showing him something in a magazine and he says "Supple!!! Mom, Supple!!!"

The worst part is I've never liked this word. As soon as I hear it always think of breasts. As in, "the woman had supple breasts". As in, large....I'm not sure where that comes from.

I thought maybe I should put a stop to this, you know, I didn't want Tony doing this outside of our home and offending someone (or maybe just because it bugged me so much). So I thought I'd look up the word just so I could explain it clearly to him.

And this is what I found....

Sup.ple:
adj. sup·pler, sup·plest
1. Readily bent; pliant.
2. Moving and bending with agility; limber.
3. Yielding or changing readily; compliant or adaptable.

I am so wrong about the meaning of the word. How did I come up with this? I guess it can be used in a sentence describing breasts but not meaning what I thought. Maybe I didn't pay as much attention in English class as I thought.

I don't know why this word bugs me so much (even more now). It grinds on me inside. I think that sounds crazy, but it's the way it is.

And of course, Tony probably realized this from the beginning and that's why he takes such joy in throwing it in when ever he can.

The whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from The Princess Bride.

Here's a little clip for you.

Oh, and I'm Vizzini....."Inconceivable!" I mean "How Supple!"

for john

I've had a blog request,

I've only done this once before.

It comes from my bbf Gigi's son.

His name is John.

John sent me some pics to go along with the post.

I think he's hoping to embarrass his little sister.

Actually, he's probably just hoping that she will slow down while driving.

Yeah, I'm sure it's all in love!

So this is for John....

I wrote it to the tune of Gilligan's Island.

I showed it to Mac after I was done and she says she doesn't know the tune.

Ugh! Teenagers!

Well, I'm not changing it now.

so for my teens readers out there...

if don't know the Gilligan's Island theme song then
you're lame click here

ok so here you go John....

* * * * * * *

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful leap

That started on a snowy day

aboard this little "heap".

The chauffeur was a mighty driver,

with 11 months under her belt

and a passenger that she picked up that day

offering a ride to help.

she's always willing to help

* * * * * *

The weather started getting warm

the snow turning into slush.

if not for the skillful driving

the little heap would 'of been lost.

the little heap would 'of been lost

* * * * * * *

The heap's aground on some uncharted Pfizer land,
with Marie...

and Mac too...

a couple cute college boys stopping by....

two Pfizer "cops".....

a real close tree,

a helping dad and brother John

here on Pfizer land.

* * * * * * *

So this is the tale of two stranded girls

they were there for a long, long time

they had to make the best of things

because a tow they could not find

The offers of help were plenty

by each good Samaritan passing by

but when they realized how far they were stuck

they only waved and said good bye!

No daddies! No money! No tow trucks!

Don't want to pay for that luxury!

Like two typical teenagers

an accident they could never foresee.

So join me to tell these girls to slow down

and take winter driving seriously.

Because cars and broken tow straps can be replaced

but these sweet girls could never be!

Mac and medicine

I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I haven't blogged about Mac in a while.

Truth is, I was banned.

It seems I may have offended her a couple times.

I apologized, removed the offending posts and tried to be a good blogger mommy.

But yesterday we had another visit to the doctor and my blogging restraint was pushed to the limits.

I should explain.

Every time I bring Mac to the doctor it's sure to be an "interesting" experience. But whenever we go to this "certain doctor" Mac is in true form.

I won't go into any detail but lets just say that we've been to this doctor numerous times since we've moved here and have tried several different treatments that haven't worked.

This doctor loves to banter with Mac. He will say something, Mac will sarcastically respond, he will throw it right back at her and then it's all down hill from there. All I can do is sit back and shake my head. The last time I had to get up and walk out of the room to get them to stop, otherwise, I think we would have been there all day.

In the elevator on the way to his office, I told Mac that I needed to pick up Tony in 45 minutes so I needed the appointment to be short.

Mac says "Oh, don't worry I was planning on keeping it short. I think my humor might be impairing his judgement. I need him to focus and choose the right medicine so I can get better."

Through out the entire appointment I was a little afraid that Mac would interrupt the doctor to say "focus!" because her promise of keeping it short lasted about 2 minutes and the wisecracks were being flung back and forth.

Unfortunately, Mac didn't inherit her quick wit from me and I had trouble just keeping up.

I do remember at one point Mac accused the doctor of trying to kill her and he thanked her for helping him appreciate that he only had boys.

Mac cursed assured him that one of his sons would end up marrying someone just like her.

I managed to snag the prescription between jests and when the conversation turned to Juno, Alaska (don't ask me how it got there, I never said a word) I stood up to leave. The doctor followed us to the check out counter to get in the last jab which I assume is a little unusual due to the surprised look on the receptionists face.

She is due for a recheck in 3 weeks.

I'm beginning to think Mac hasn't been cured on purpose....and I don't know if it's out of vengeance or that he enjoys her company.

birthdays and ovarian gymnastics

Yesterday my oldest son turned 19.

I like to blog a little something for my kids birthday.

They like it too....

um...yeah.

I'm a little late (I babysat the twins yesterday).

Having those babies around does something to me.

It's hard to explain

it must have something to do with the ovaries or something.

I get this yearning,
the ovaries start limbering up,

stretching out the hamstrings, a couple of jumping jacks,

you know get the blood flowin'

(I think my male readers just logged off).

So I got out all the old photo albums and looked at pictures of Bud when he was a baby.
I could feel my ovaries heave a big sigh.

Really.

I was all sentimental and sappy and stuff.

The Hubs came home and saw the big pile of photo albums out

"why are all those out?" he asked....with a little bit of an attitude

...if you ask me

I wanted to say "duhhhh! It's our baby's 19th birthday

I'm having a maternal moment here!

Just back off!"

You know, if he can't figure out by now what it does to me when our babies get all "grown up"and stuff.... that it makes me want to pull out all the old photos and droll over those big fat baby cheeks and big blue eyes....

well ,it would be useless to explain it to his "maleness"

can I have an "amen" ladies?

ahem. maybe it's just me.

So anyhoo, yesterday I did a lot of page flipping and sighing and "awww"ing.

Me, the photo albums and my ovaries.

and I realized I do have some regrets (don't we all)

but my biggest is not appreciating it all more...

that, and not kissing those baby cheeks till they chapped.

my ovaries know what I'm talking about.

bah-humbug!

I'm really having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year!

Yeah, I got the tree up and a few decorations.

Maybe it's because I didn't put out half of my Christmas "stuff" this year because of the pup.

I'm really missing my nativity scene. I don't dare put it out.

It's all hand made by a woman from my church back in Kalamazoo who is a weaver.

The worst part is I'm not even sure where it is. I keep it in a separate box with cedar so it doesn't get eaten by moths.

I have a vague memory of showing to the mover guy who was packing my basement up and labeling it as an item to take "extra special care of". Um, yeah....

Or maybe it's because I haven't even started my Christmas shopping yet. I have four kids who claim to have no idea what they want for Christmas.

That is disturbing on many levels.

Yes, it would be nice to believe that they are just a bunch of sweet, selfless teens who are seeing beyond all the hype of the holiday season and are realizing the "true meaning" of Christmas. They don't need the stuff...

But that's not what I'm thinking.

I'm guessing that as parents maybe we give them too much year round so they don't "need" or "want" anything.

That or they are too lazy to figure it out.

They have grandparents who like to get their shopping done before all the last minute madness starts. A list would be nice for them too.

I'm almost afraid to ask if this is this a normal teen thing? And I'm refusing to just give them money for Christmas. But the longer this goes on the more of a Scrooge I become.

bah-humbug!

Here's all that puppy wants for Christmas

"His two front teeth"

Hanging Christmas lights and other dangerous life risking activities

Mac and I tried to hang the Christmas lights in the tree in front of our house the other day.

Yes "tried"....

I know, I know, I'm not sure why I even thought I could do this. I've told you about my fear of heights, but I had to go and do something.

Hubby was working on our kitchen project, tiling the back splash.

Who knew the builders of our house could hang cupboards so crooked (or maybe the floors are sloped.... so then the counters are off...I don't know)

Anyhoo, the tiles were not "lining up" or whatever and I was trying to offer my "I've-never-done-this-before-so-I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-talking-about" opinion.

Hubby really wasn't in the mood to listen.

It was obvious that it would be best if I just leave the house. I thought I'd try and do something nice for Hubby since he was working so hard.

I got the ladder out and all the lights and Mac wasn't doing anything so she said she'd help.
Actually, I think it was just an excuse for her to make fun of me.

I will admit I was kinda of whimpering when I got up on that ladder.

Not on purpose of course.

Mac said if I was going to "cry like a baby" then she would just do it.

I'm not sure if I've said it before, but the only thing scarier than being up high is watching one of your kids up high.

As soon as she got up there my only thought was "she gonna fall and die!" well, that and my first quick fleeting thought: "hey my butt used to look like that".

As I held the ladder, I closed my eyes but then I realized if she fell I wouldn't be able to catch her.

So, I had to force myself to open them and watch. And the whimpering started again and then I started shaking (remember this is all completely uncontrollable). And I worried if I shook too hard I would knock her off the ladder myself.

Unfortunately, the neighbors were outside hanging their Christmas lights too. And I can only imagine what they thought of their new neighbors.

Me: whimpering.

Mac: "Come on Mom! Suck it up! You're fine!".

Me: "This isn't....*shudder*.....a good...*choke*....idea"

Mac: "Oh my gosh Mom! you know you wouldn't have this problem if you weren't such a conformist!"

She's referring to the fact that all our neighbors put light on the trees out in front of their houses that line the street. All the same way, all the same color, all the way through our neighborhood. A fact that we were informed about during our first neighborhood block party in July....

yeah, I know, give me a cliff...

I'll jump if you do.

Back to the scene out front. As Mac goes on about her conformist spiel, I glace over at my neighbor to the right, who I know is hearing this whole conversation. He gives me this apologetic smile and shrug of the shoulders.

His tree died last summer so he planted a new one. He can reach the top without a ladder.

Mac hollers over to him "Hey! how come you have such a small tree?"

He tells her how his tree died.

Mac: "Why can't we just kill our tree like he did? Then we won't have to worry about your crazy fear of heights" she says this loud enough that my embarrassment is beginning to obscure my urge to cry. She is now standing on the second to top rung of the ladder while reaching over to drape the lights on a limb.

I feel like I'm gonna throw up now.

I tell her she has to get down. Mac continues to rant about my silly fears and on and on.

Later Hubby and Bud came out and hung the lights with this little telescoping hookie thingie.

Who knew we had one of those.

Here's my new glass tile back splash

Stepping out of his comfort zone

My alarm went off at 5:30 this Saturday morning.

The Hubs and I both hustled out of bed, but we didn't mind.

Our oldest son, Bud, was going to his first Forensic meet.

We're not just some of those proud parents (we'll maybe we are).

You see, for Bud to even want to do this is pretty amazing.

Bud had seizures from birth until he was about two years old that affected the speech area of his brain.

He has gone through hundreds of hours of speech therapy over the years.

He still has some letters and sounds that are difficult for him to pronounce.

When Bud announced he was joining the Forensic Team, Hubby and I were shocked. To me, public speaking is a form of slow torture.

I was thinking there must be a cute girl on the team.....

We still don't know his reasons (and don't really care).

The Hubby ironed all his clothes this morning and helped him get his sports coat and tie on straight.

And we both stood at the door and watched him drive off, talking about how much our baby boy has grown up and how proud we are of him for stepping out of his comfort zone and trying something new. I'm thankful to be able to enjoy these moments.

Have a great weekend!

a mothers touch

This morning was parents day at Tony's school.

Last night, while we were discussing what happens on parents day, Tony said to me "please don't embarrass me Mom."

I really have no idea what he's talking about.

I mean what could be embarrassing about being a 14 year old, eighth grade boy at a brand new school and have your mom hanging with you at school for the day?

Really.

I think the administrators do this to these kids just for chuckles.

On the way into school, I asked Tony what would be the most embarrassing thing that I could do to him (just to be sure that I didn't accidentally do something that I didn't know would be mortifying to him).

His answer surprised me. He said "please don't touch me while we are in there".

Wow! That's all it would take?

Through out the day I had plenty of opportunities to cause him blushes that didn't involve touching him....but I was a good girl.

Now he lays here cuddled up next to me while I write this. He likes me to rub his back. I like to play with his wavy hair.

He doesn't seem to mind me touching him now. And I am cherishing these moments because I know they will be gone all too soon.

how to embarrass your teens

Yesterdays post was fun for me.

Embarrassing your teens is almost as addicting as blogging.

It made me think of a story of mom embarrassing her teen that I witnessed a few years back.

I was a teachers aide for a while at my kids school. One of my duty's was to supervise the outside lunch area. There were picnic tables where the high school kids would eat lunch.

One fall day, I'm standing next to one of the tables that is filled with 9th grade boys and girls.

They are doing what all 9th grade hormonal teens do, flirting, giggling, picking at their food, when we hear this high pitched call from across the lunch area.

"Yoohoo! Jor...dan...! Jordan! Over here! It's mom! Yooooohooooo!" Every eye turns to look at at a woman dressed in a house coat, slippers, and curlers (this is a mother that I know, she does not dress like this in public). I look over at Jordan and see the color drain from his face, accompanied by a look of horror. Then the color quickly returns and ripens into bright red.

Jordan's mom is frantically waving her hand in the air. "Jor...dan..." she continues in her high pitched whiny voice, "I just wanted to make sure you remembered to put clean underwear on this morning!!!".

Jordan seems to be paralysed by mortification. The whole lunch area is silent. Kids who have mouths full of food have stopped chewing and their jaws hang open in disbelief.

"Jor...dan.... come over here and give your mommie a kiss!!!!"

Jordan isn't moving. I'm not sure Jordan is breathing, he's so red he almost looks purple.

Jordan's mom starts walking over to the table full of teens and squeals "Jordan! I missed you! I just had to come and say HI to you and meet all your friends!" Jordan's inability to move has now disappeared and he jumps up from his seat to intercept his mother before she can reach his lunch table.

They happen to meet just a couple of feet from where I'm standing.

Jordan's mother grabs her son in a big bear hug and the smile she has been wearing instantly vanishes. As she is patting her sons back I hear her hiss into his ear "Don't you EVER walk away from me when I'm talking to you again!".

She pulls Jordan back from the big hug by the shoulders and there's that sweet smile again on her face. She gives Jordan a big kiss on the check and leaves the lunch area.

Man, I was in awe of that woman that day!

I'm pretty sure Jordan didn't ignore his mother ever again.

So I was thinking it might be interesting to come up with a list of ways to humiliate your kids. This list could be useful for times when you need to come up with a creative way to make your kid obey you (like Jordan's mom demonstrated).

Or it could just be for fun.

Like a hobby.

I would love some help with this list.

Any ideas you have would be great or past experiences of when your parents embarrassed you.

Think of this as a public service, you know, to help us parents reach our fullest embarrassing potential.

Here's the ones I've come up with:

1. Just go about life normally....you will embarrass you're kids no matter what you do.

2. when driving their friends somewhere, tune in an 80's station and sing really loud. Dancing in your seat, hand gestures and exaggerated facial expressions are an added bonus.

3. show up to pick your teen up in an outfit that closely resembles what they are wearing. Point out in front of their friends how "special it is that you match".

4. tell their friends stories of when you were their age. include things like "I was so cool..." and "I can remember what it was like to be your age..."

5. put together a small album of naked baby pictures. Keep it handy if dating curfews are not strictly met.

6. in front of your teen ask cute cashiers or wait staff if they have a boyfriend/ girlfriend (my mother would do this to me).

Well, that's all I can come up with right now (I'm exhausted today from puppy). I would love to hear your input!

Fitting in

Ace is fitting in nicely to our house full of teenagers

wrestling for fun....

"Mom, can you buy some more Taquitoes next time you go to Meijer?"

sneaking food into the living room

tormenting his "sibling"

running back to mama crying when he "gets what he had comin"

constantly taking "self portraits" with my camera

one class of driver's training and he knows it all.

Giving mom the old "how can you be mad at me when I'm this cute?" eyes when he's in trouble

sleeping most of the day away....

yep, he's fitting in nicely.

techy teens a new level of rudeness!

I just wanted to show you this pic I took yesterday in my yard. If you click on the pic it will give you a bigger pic and you can see all the amazing details even better--unless you hate bugs, then it might just gross you out.



I almost stepped on this guy when I was walking the puppy. He sat so still that I thought he was dead at first but he was so beautiful that I ran and grabbed my camera. The way the sun was hitting his wings I could see all these different colors and designs. I guess I've never looked at one that close. So I got real close and snapped some pics and then he flew into my face and I screamed and ran around because he scared the bajeezies out of me. I swear, most of the times I look really stupid in public, is when I have my camera in my face!


Anyhoo, I couldn't believe that the pics turned out so nice with my crappy little camera. I boosted the colors a little on my photoshop thingie (you can tell I soooo know what I'm doing). The original pic was nice but it didn't show the colors that I was seeing in real life. Here's the original...


I was all proud of my bug picture, so I showed Tony. He said "You didn't take that mom! You stole that off the internet." Of course, I erased my photocard in my camera after I downloaded the pictures so I have no evidence that I really took it. There's nothing like talking to one of your teens when you're looking for a compliment. They will deliver a blow to your ego every time!

What I really meant to blog about this morning was my techy teens. I'm not bragging here. It's actually really annoying!

Last night I wanted to get on my computer to get caught up on some of my blog reading and to answer some emails (I'm sooo far behind because of the puppy poo duty). I find Tony, on my computer, facebook chatting with a bunch of people all at once and also on his phone texting.
If two people attempt to chat at me at once, it's like stimulus overload! I try keeping up but it feels like my head might explode.
Mac was "one up-ing" her brother. She was on facebook chatting to multiple people, talking on her phone, and texting all at the same time (when she gets a text she pulls the phone away from her face but continues to talk and reads her text).


After I kicked Tony off my computer, he got onto Bud's. Then, adding to all the ways he was communicating before, he started skyping.


I had a teen parenting "first" the other day.

Mac asked if I could give one of her friends a ride home. So I'm driving along, Mac is in the passenger seat and "the friend" is in the backseat and it is unusually quiet. I'm thinking to myself "this is strange", then I realize that they are texting back and forth!
It's the "new whispering behind the hand" as far as rudeness goes! I was actually really mad. They would throw out a comment here and there or giggle about the text they just sent, only to be even more annoying cryptic.

I started imaging pulling over and tossing both their butts out of my car!

Our parents had to teach us proper communicating etiquette. Such as, look someone in the eye when you talk to them, don't interrupt others when they are talking, don't mumble, ect. ect.
But now in this techy new world, I feel responsible to teach a whole new set of techy communicating etiquette rules that I don't even understand myself!

These are some that I came up with on my limited techy knowledge:
1. Don't text on your phone when you are having a "real" (face to face) conversation with someone else.
2. Don't text people who are with in talking distance from you! Talk like a normal human being! God gave you a voice! Use it! (sorry for all the "!" this really annoys me!!!!)
3. Don't use that "skyping" thingie unless absolutely necessary. It makes your voice sound like a robot and it's creepy.
4. Return texts promptly. If you can't then begin by apologizing why it took so long to get back to someone. No one likes to be ignored.

That's all I can come up with this morning on my two cups of coffee brain. I'd love to hear if anyone has any others to add. Especially my geeky friends out there (you know who you are) or my teen readers (they probably have the most insight) or my geeky teen readers (you know who you are too!) :)
Have a great day!

More facebook talk

a little pic of the Wrigley building in Chicago (because I like architecture almost as much as flowers)

I've blogged about facebook before (click here if you want to read it).

And how my kids harass me about how I use it.

Today, I'm not feeling much blogger creativity so I thought I'd show you a little evidence of some of that harassment.

I fully admit that I facebook stalk my kids. They know it, it's part of the agreement we made when they signed up for it. Mom and Dad get full access or you get nada.

I also fully admit that I steal pics of them out of their albums and then repost them on my site.

It's my right as a mother.

They spent 9 months in my womb (yes, I will also admit, I'm almost looking for reasons to say womb now- just to torment Mac) and 20+ hours of labor on each and countless other humiliating things related to the birthing process.

It's my right as a mother.

So a couple weeks ago, I decided that it had been a while since I posted pics of the kids so I spent some time perusing their albums for something I liked. Of course my girls (or their friends) each post about 12 thousand pictures every couple of weeks so finding nice ones of them is easy. The two boys are a little more difficult and I ended up adding some from my own stock.

All and all, I think it ended up being a nice little album. I titled it "facebook stalking my kids #2".

The next morning I find this comment on my album from one of my offspring (again, I won't name names):

mother i dont know how you dont get the facebook photos concept.. let me explain..1. make an album in yourcase you could sum all of this into "im a creepfest" 2. add photos**important** two weeks later you think hmm i want to add more pictures to my facebook you DO NOT create a new album!! you just go to "im a creepfest" edit and add photos! then youre not a loser who has 43 thousand albums of 15 photos!! do you understand?!

Have I mentioned lately that I love my teens?

But I had some lovely friends who happened to give me some facebook love and support.

Awesome Wendy had this to say~

I personally prefer the multiple photo albums, then I don't have to search through photos. I can skip right to "fb stalking my kids." But then, I'm a loser too.

And the Very Hip Vicky added this~

Loser here too, love, love,love your mom's way!

There ya go. We facebook mom's need to stick together.

Since I'm on the subject of facebook. I have spent a little bit of time looking at some of the other kids facebook walls that I'm friends with- not in a stalkerish kinda way, I assure you. Looking to see if what my kids say is true about how we use it. I looked at kids that range from teens to twenties. The biggest difference I see in our facebook usage besides the photo album thingie is how they don't comment on each others posts.

I think that is a little sad. I would think it would feel like your talking to yourself and no one cares (kinda like blogging and no one comments-*hint*hint*).

Maybe they don't care if anyone is listening. Maybe it's just a generation thing.

no privacy ever

*Warning* to my male reader and young readers: you might just want to skip this post...I didn't mean to talk about topics such as childbirth and breast feeding but I just started rambling (something I never usually do...) and it just kinda turned into that. Just so ya know. You've been warned.

Not too long ago, I was happily sitting at my computer at the kitchen table.
I was on facebook chatting with an old friend that I haven't talked since high school.


One of my kids (I won't name names) comes up from behind me and starts reading over my shoulder.


"Excuse me!" I shout as I clumsily try to cover up my conversation with my hands and body.


"Geez Mom! What are you trying to hide?" says my offspring.


And then I feel guilty.


Yeah guilty. Not because I was saying anything that I shouldn't be saying or talking to someone that I shouldn't be talking to. I actually felt guilty because I just wanted some privacy!


Obviously, I would never be allowed to read over my teens shoulder without a few choice words from them. Because well, that's just....well....duh!!!


But heaven forbid Mom should get any privacy!


Putting the two words "privacy" and "mom" in the same sentence doesn't even feel right. Because I'm a Mom then my world is all "self sacrifice" and laid out for the offspring to rummage through.

I've been a mom for 21 years now and I starting thinking back on the loss of my privacy.

Of course it all begins in the womb (Goodbye Mac, I said the "w" word she's outta here!) The privacy issue isn't so big here. Wait I take that back! Suddenly thoughts of my OB/GYN office and the lovely table with the stirrups came rushing back. (I was originally thinking that it's more about sacrifice for your kids at this stage-eating right, giving up the coffee and diet coke, etc. etc., but you're still losing your privacy and your kids are the cause.) So, yeah there's no more privacy at that point....time to start getting used to it.


Then childbirth. A whole new level of exposing yourself. I remember thinking while pregnant with my first (remember, I was just a young teen thing then) "is there any other way we can get this thing out? Eewww! Gag me with a spoon!" (it was the 80's after all...actually, I never said that. Actually, I don't think anyone ever said that in the 80's except that one movie with a hairy Nicholas Cage at the beach--I can't remember the name of it....).


Anywho, I really could have cared less about privacy once the "urge to push" came. And I'd like to have a word with whatever male doctor came up with that phrase. It's obviously a male who never gave birth because it is not an "urge" it's more like a "I have to push now or I'm gonna rip that lovely nurses head off that's standing next to me who is telling me to 'breath through it' and then I'm gonna kill my husband next for doing this to me" kinda feeling.


Then there's breast feeding. That's when your privacy is not only violated by just a few choice nurses (who are "expert breast feeders" which means that gives them the right to gab your "breast feeding equipment" in her cold hands (without warning or permission) to show you how to get the baby to "latch on"). With breast feeding your privacy can also be given up in front of visiting family, friends, and strange people at the park depending on how good you are at keeping that little blanket in place and slapping hands off the women who think it's okay to pull back the blanket and "sneak a peek".



Then, when the offspring start getting around on their own you lose bathroom privacy....I'm definitely pretty reserved and I managed to shut the door (sometimes) but I still count fingers sticking under the door and your kid yelling "I can hear you peeing Mom!" lack of privacy.



I'm also counting the fact that there were years that I didn't enjoyed anything sweet or indulgent all by lonesome when in the presence of my kids as a lack of privacy (idk maybe that's stretching it). Although now that they are older and I spend more time away from them it isn't as big as an issue but I still go to drink my diet Coke and find Mac has stolen it or I find myself wolfing down my dessert so no one else can "share" mine.

I'm on the upswing of regaining my privacy. But there are still days when I feel like I will never have it back completely. Like with the computer chatting issue. Oh yeah, and the other day when the kids found my old high school yearbook (the reason I had it out had nothing to do with facebook and not remembering people I went to high school with....I was just reminiscing....really!). My kids proceeded to look at and make fun of pictures of me. And one of them started reading what people wrote in my yearbook! If I tried to read my kids yearbooks I would be verbally assaulted for sure!

And of course, when they are all grown and gone, I will miss them and I will have an abundance of privacy. But for now. Back off please.