Award!
We’ve been nominated for an award! Of course, we’re latecomers to the game, and only have a couple of weeks to try and make up a LOT of ground, so I’m asking for your help! Go vote! All you have to do is register – it’s easy and painless AND FREE – and you can vote for PTB once a day every day!
Check it out! (There will be a voting button on the sidebar down there shortly as well, under the alltop button)
Random Convo – teenager style.
One way to describe life with teenagers in a single word is “random”. It encompasses everything, from the number of teenagers crashed out at my place on any given night, to the thoughts of said teenagers, to the snack of the day, or – mostly this – the conversations shared. Every day it’s another bit that makes me laugh, and shake my head. When I thought of having kids back when I was young and stupid – I did my best parenting BEFORE I had kids, after all – I thought every conversation would be meaningful, and intense, and filled with Full House-esque wisdom and adoration for a parent doing a good job.
Yeah. Right.
What we get instead is random bits of stuff that make me laugh, or make me just STARE at them, or make me scream. And it’s never the same way twice – it’s ALWAYS an adventure. The fun comes in learning that the laughter shared is just as meaningful as those lessons Uncle Jesse taught us while the inspirational music played in the background. (Mmmm John Stamos. yum. I got some lessons… Wait, where was I? Oh… ahem.) We don’t have the inspirational music, but the laughter connects us just the same.
B has asked when I’m going to write about her again – so I figured, since she’s on such a “Makin Mama Laugh” roll, it’s her turn. For those that don’t remember, B is the girl who lived with me for a time just before she turned 18. Then she moved out, got her own place, discovered life is hard, had me rescue her cat (that still lives with me) and still couch surfs at my house most of the week. She will be pleased to be the star of most of the following conversation snippits, many of which fall into the category of “Things you never thought your teenager would say to you. Out loud, anyway.”
Let’s tackle Halloween first. I didn’t post pictures of the girls, because they were practically NSFW. Had I posted the picture of B and C, I would have added the caption “For the record, I said no. But they’re 18, and not REALLY mine..” We had a naughty nurse, C, who was mostly covered up as she added leggings to the look, and we had B – our Devil Hooker. She looked – well. Hot, but definitely on the slutty side of hot, and she was amused by this. What she wasn’t amused by were some of the reactions.
B: So mom, I was at McDonalds, right? And this guy was all staring at me.
Me: Shocker there, kid. Tuck that boob back in, will ya?
B: Ok, there, and anyway, so he has a kid with him, and suddenly? This kid comes up to me with a dollar and no lie mom, he was like 9 years old, and he says ‘Can i have some p***y, now?” and I was like WTF man, he was NINE.
Me: Well, you were dressed like a whore…
B: MOM! I know, but the kid was NINE! And his dad was just standing there! And I was like WTF?
Me: Again, you were dressed like…
B: I know, but NINE!
Me: So what did you say?
B: Nothing. And I kept his dollar. I put it in my bra.
Me: HAHAHAHAH! Well, look at it this way. That dad is in a world of shit when he gets home and his son proudly tells Mama that he asked a hooker for some p***y for a dollar like daddy said and btw mom, what does that mean?
B: True. That does make it more amusing. But 9. Wow. Just. Wow.
Me: So no more dressing like a hooker.
B: amen.
Yes, these are the conversations I have with kids. *L* And more besides. That same night, ST gave me a line I never thought I’d hear “my” kids utter. He, conveniently, was in a Big Daddy costume. In my day, we called those Pimp Costumes, but whatever. So I have a picture of him standing with B together before they went to their party.
As he was leaving? I got “Keep your pimp hand strong, mom!”
Blink. Alrighty then.
Not all the conversations revolve around choice of clothing, and/or job related stresses (even pretend jobs on Halloween. Ha!). Some of them are even more random – and once more, B is the star.
B: So, mom! Guitar hero? Rocks. I am a star.
Me: Mmmmkay.
B: I was at N’s playing, right? and he was all play with me! then he put it on expert! And man. I suck. After ever round he was like 300k points ahead of me. I can clearly no longer play Guitar Hero, Ever again.
Me: So I shouldn’t start saving for a trip to see your Hollywood Star on the walk of fame then?
B: No. I totally sucked. I told him I could never play GH again, ever.
Me: What he say?
B: He said ok. So see ya later mom, I’ll be back!
Me: Where ya headed?
B: …to N’s to play Guitar Hero, of course! Weren’t you listening? He was all you wanna play? and I was all absolutely. Yes.
Me: ….
B: …inorite?
When I asked her if she wasn’t just over there – and she admitted she was, I had to know why she’d taken time out to come back ‘home’ just for an hour.
B (from the kitchen): Oh, that’s because they were eating dinner. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable eating at other people’s houses.
Me: … So, he brought you back here to…
B: To eat, of course!
Me: Of course. Should have known. There’s a new bottle of Tabasco in the cupboard for ya.
Clearly I’m different. I’m mom. It’s ok to eat here. (chuckles)
Then last night, the boy – fresh from his work review where he netted a 35cent raise, and promise of a promotion in his future (for the record – the highest raise they’ll give at one time is 40 cents. he’s pretty proud – as am I!) – he came in and declared that he’d beaten my old store record for closing, set back in 1988. Yes. I’m old. I know.
The boy: MOM! What was your record?!
Me: 18 minutes.
The Boy: HA! BEAT IT! 15 minutes!
Me: Don’t EVEN talk to me about beating my record until you are tearing down that ice cream machine EVERY NIGHT like we had too.
The Boy: … technicalities. That was the OLD SCHOOL way. Like walking to school uphill both ways in the days of the dinosaurs like you did! So there!
Me: I’m gonna beat ya with my cane, you ornry kid you! And also? Get offa mah lawn!
Boy: (Runs. Sometimes he’s wise.)
Life with teenagers = Randomosity at it’s best. If I had known it could be so much fun, I’d have had a whole bunch more kids… or not. Since they all bring their friends home with them, anyway!
—-
In other news – I’d like to put together a gift giving guide for the holidays. The kids are all helping me by doing some “window shopping” and looking for some things they’d like. (which also helps me pick things out for them later – SCORE!) So what are YOUR teenagers asking for this year? What makes their hearts go pitter pat? Let me know, and We’ll add it to the list. Teenagers can be hard to shop for as the gifts themselves get smaller, but more expensive. So let’s work together to find some cool stuff for them!
Do you ever get that feeling…
…that not so fresh… wait. what? No, it’s not a remake of the Mother Daughter team having The Freshness Talk while Running through the Fields Of Flowers and Holding Hands… not really, anyway. What I meant to say was, even after two teenagers and all their friends to practice on, when you look at your youngest at just 9 years old… do you get that feeling that your DOOMED?
This morning, I did.
Now I’ve dealt with grumpy teenagers. I’ve forced them up and out to work and school. I’ve watched them sleep for 20 hours a day and declare themselves EXHAUSTED. I’ve fought with them to clean their rooms, do the dishes, to wash their clothes, teeth, hair and OMG FEET. I’ve done all that times TWO, yet I never once felt the way I did this morning. The sense of impending doom was SO BAD it caused Nana to call and ask what I’d done to that poor put upon child who showed up at her door for breakfast with tears in red-rimmed eyes and a single cuss word on her lips when asked what was wrong: “MOM!”
At 9 years old and the baby of the family, the Pup is outspoken, sassy, smart-assed, loud, and must always be the center of attention. She adores her older siblings, who would rather she would just go away until she is older, though they love her too. You know how it goes. There’s a 7 year age difference between her and the Boy, and 5 years between the sisters.
But this morning? It was hormone hall up in here, years early.
It started with the discovery that “SOMEONE didn’t pull the belt out of my jeans before they WASHED them and now its GONE and I can’t FIND it!” That someone, of course, was her. I gently suggested that she use a different belt, and you would have though I gently suggested she lay her head in my lap and let me poke at her eyes with sharp sticks. “IT WON’T LOOK RIGHT!” she wailed, and I could do nothing but calmly suggest she get the hell dressed already in SOMETHING because OMG CHILD your ride is almost here.
Once her pants were on, with the proper belt, she was still sitting there, staring blankly ahead, with only one sock on. I pointed the obvious out “Get another sock, your boots, your coat, your ride will be here any second.” only to have her wail back at me, “I CAN’T FIND ONE!”
Ok then – so maybe, maybe she would like to quit staring off blankly and oh, I don’t know, LOOK for one? When I suggested such, she went into full panic mode, as I handed her another sock, and sent her to put on her boots. Boots she had set aside so she could find them easily this morning, since all the other shoes were put in the cubbies last night. Boots that were RIGHT BEHIND HER as she emptied the cubbies on by one, flinging shoes everywhere in her attempt to uncover her boots, that were, again, RIGHT BEHIND HER.
I pointed out the boots, shoved the tossed shoes back in the cubby, while telling Papa on the phone she was on her way. But it was not to be finished so easily! Oh NO. Because where… was her coat?
“Here,” I said, helpfully. “Wear this one. It fits, and unlike the other, the zipper won’t keep breaking.” It was a good solution, I thought, as it was pink, and black, and fit, and zipped, and worked. I was wrong.
“I’ll be so EMBARRASSED!” she wailed. Uh. Ok. I had to ask her… why? “Because it’s UGLY and I HATE IT and I can’t BELIEVE you MOM!”
That’s the last I heard as she walked out, slammed the door, and took her tortured soul down to Nana’s house. There, Nana tried to hug her, and nothing would soften the taught frame and anguished being that was my youngest child. Nana did well not to laugh. Out loud, anyway.
Yup, in the retelling of the tale – there’s that feeling again.
DOOM.
I’m DOOMED.
So, anyone want a early hormonal 9 year old? I’ll sell her cheap…
~~~
As I was writing this:
Pup: Whatcha doin?
Me: Selling you on the internets.
Pup: YAY! Sell me to someone nice, who gives me ice cream when I’m bad!
Me: Your request is duly noted. Now shoo.
Breaking News!
Teenage Pregnancy directly related to Teenagers Having Sex!
INORITE?
Sounds ridiculous, I know. I meant it too. Thing is, the new study that relates the rise in teen pregnancy to watching racier shows on television is almost as absurd. I hate studies like this, because they declare one single thing to be the root of the problem, but neglect all the other extenuating circumstances. They call the research “groundbreaking” and use words like “Suggests” and “link” and whatever. People grab onto this, Helicopter parents especially, and suddenly the FDC is pulling the plug on some of the best shows in television, and our kids suddenly have even MORE free time to have loud rowdy sex in their cars, since they’re not rushing home for Pushing Daisies, or Grey’s Anatomy.
So I’m being a little flippant about it all, clearly, because that is what I do. My actual point is that the problem with such studies, is that they don’t take into consideration a lot of other circumstances. The basic premise is, of course, that “Shows that highlight only the positive aspects of sexual behavior without the risks can lead teens to have unprotected sex before they’re ready to make responsible and informed decisions.”
The results state that pregnancy was twice as common among those who watched shows like Sex and the City, That 70s Show, and Friends, and suggest that it’s connected even with other factors considered, like grades, famly structure and parents’ education level – but not other important factors self-esteem, family values and income. I’m not the only one crying foul:
Still, U.S. teen pregnancies were on a 15-year decline until a 3 percent rise in 2006, the latest data available. Experts think that could be just be a statistical blip.
And Albert noted that the downward trend occurred as TV shows were becoming more sexualized, confirming that “it’s not the only influence.”
Do I think the media has an impact? Probably – but bottom line, I think the most impact comes from us parents, rather then outside influences. Did we teach them how to deal with such things throuhout their life so that they have a good foundation when they become teenagers? Do we have open and frank discussions with our teens? Do we stay involved in their lives on multiple levels so that they have the strength of our backup when they need to make such an important decision?
A more disturbing statistic is data that suggests only about 19% of teens feel they have an adult they can trust enough to talk about sex. So be there for your kids, your teens. THese talks should begin long before they need the information, if there’s going to be any hope of their making wise decisions!
Reader's Question:
Laura asked a question on the post below this, and when my reply became a post in itself, I thought I’d move it to it’s own post here. Here’s her question:
Whats everyone doing for safety precautions for Halloween? My husband came across an article (http://i-newswire.com/pr220892.html) with some info about background checking neighbors. I thought that may be a little overboard, but it had some other good suggestions for some precautions I haven’t thought about. Last year my youngest son came down with a massive fever after Halloween. I almost thought about just taking the kids to our church’s fall festival this year instead of door-to-door to prevent that from happening again. I don’t know yet. What’s your advice? Am I over-reacting or just being a concerned mom?
Wow, maybe it’s because I’m the product of a small town, but that seems incredibly overboard to me. I can’t imagine letting my kids go trick or treating without me – but that’s probably because we have to drive to the “good neighborhood” that gives the good candy. *L* So that much is smart and I agree with – don’t let the kids go out on their own.
As for demanding to know why someone has a “No candy here” sign? Maybe they don’t celebrate, maybe they aren’t home, maybe they don’t like kids – it seems an incredible invasion of privacy to do ‘find out why’ as if it’s not their right to not have candy if they don’t want too. That’s going overboard. I’d be really pissed off if someone was running checks on me to see why I won’t put candy out – it’s not like I’m offering razorblades and crack in little packages – it’s no candy. Ya know? That’s ridiculous. If there’s “no candy” or the lights are off, then you move on to another house. Simple as that.
Personally, when we go trick or treating, we take the kids to walk two streets in the “good neighborhood” where they get a decent amount of candy, then we pop over to the local Boys and Girls Club for their Trunk or Treat, where they can get prizes and more candy, then to the local Elks club where they have a haunted house and games. That’s a good two hours, and aside from the actual door to door, everything is in a protected environment, and I’m with the kids every step of the way, either watching from the car on the street as I follow them through the walk in the neighborhood, or with them at the group functions.
Again, my town is small, so I may come at it from a different point of view – but I’d definitely check out some of your local area organizations and see what’s out there. More and more boys and girls clubs are doing what ours does with Trunk or Treat at their parking lot, a lot of shopping malls have indoor trick or treating Keep in mind I’m in Alaska, too, so our Trick or treating has to take weather into consideration. It’s COLD out there, and T or T doesn’t last too long, because omg COLD. IN fact right now, it’s a chilly 7 degrees outside.
I have my own personal annoyances with Church “Fall Festivals” but that’s just me. It’s a good alternative if you can convince your kids they don’t need that door to door, or do the “one or two streets” or only people they know, then a festival of some sort. Depending on how old they are, definitely talk to them and see what they’re thinking, and make a plan together. That’s the best advise that article had. My kids and I make our plan before we leave the door – which usually involves “Well go no, and when I’m done we’re going home.” *L* I’m all democratic like that.
Most of all – remember it doesn’t have to be an all night thing. When I leave, I tell the kids straight up – 2 hours, tops. To hit all the spots, before I can’t handle the crowds anymore and I’ll wanna come home. So they know off the bat there’s a time limit. As they get older, they start to lose interest anyway, and it’s more about parties, and group functions with their friends, which opens a whole NEW can of worms, hm? My son has to work this Halloween for the first time, but before that, he is much more of a help chaperoning the younger kids then he is going for Trick or Treating purposes. He’d rather buy his own candy.
Also – be SURE to check your paper, an your fire department possibly. See if someone local has set up an x-ray machine to check the candy if you’re worried about it to that extent. I always check the candy myself for my kids, or watch as they do. We don’t accept home made treats unless it is from someone we know, and everything needs to be in their original wrapping.
That’s just common sense – and checking the candy allows you to steal all the Reese’s cups. *shining grin*
There’s nothing wrong with being a concerned mom for sure, though sometimes it’s hard to let them go enough, but to keep them wrapped in Mom’s Bubble Wrap too. Hope this helped – lemme know if my rambling made any sense at all – or lack thereof.
