When he’s home sick, with nothing to do, but easy access to his mom’s hairclip supplies???

I love my kids.  They make me laugh. 

I have a new “name”!

I always have been, always will be – just didn’t know there was a name for it. 

Just like when I had my first baby, I didn’t know that the term “Attachment Parent” defined what I naturally, lovingly did, until now I didn’t know “Free Range Mom” defined what I do either… I love it.

I’ve blogged before about Helicopter Parents, Bullshit Stranger Danger (and BS means both the show and the danger, cuz it is BS), and the lady that let her 9 year old ride the NYC subway.  I know that the world is as safe, if not safer, than it was 30 years ago, a molester isn’t behind every bush, and yup, your kids can walk outside and be just fine without the Secret Service watching their every movement.  I hope to perpetuate her information, and help other parents let their children be, well, children.  Since the odds are higher that my doctor or my car will kill my child, I happily, confidently let them “roam” free, knowing – KNOWING – they’re going to be just fine!

I love this blog… check it out here!

 

Gotta love ‘em, yeah?

I was pleased with how my photo shoot turned out with my 15 year old… he grumbed and mumbled and groaned the whole time I was telling him to “work it, work it babeeeeee”, but after he saw the final results, he was okay with his mother dragging him down the street and to different places.  Like, it’s so totally uncool, dude.

And heaven knows the teenager must be pleased, or the whole house pays for it.

 

Brett came home yesterday to show me an interesting assignment on one of his teacher’s classroom web pages.  I opened her page to find a picture of her and Obama (I will withhold comments on this), which is fine, more power to you… but I went on to read her assignments for the students this week and was a little shocked to see that her students are to listen to this amateur politician’s speech and write about it.

I scanned and scanned and cannot find where they will be listening to the experienced, qualified politician McCain and writing about his speech.

Is this just an oversight, or the teacher pushing her uneducated political views on my child??? 

If a man can’t have a bible on his desk without being fired, doesn’t this cross a bigger line?  I mean, the teacher with the bible wasn’t telling his students about it or pushing his Christian values on them, it was there for his enjoyment during his breaks.  It was insignificant to anyone else.  If I have a book by Robin Cook on my desk, that doesn’t mean I think he writes the best books, everyone should read his books, blah blah blah…

But I digress.

So I emailed the teacher and politely asked if it was just oversight, a webpage malfunction, or if the assignment to listen to the great Republican candidate was coming up next week… because certainly we aren’t saying that we won’t be giving voice to the other side, right?

She emailed back and indicated that since this was a U.S. History class, they will be covering the good candidate (okay, I added the word “good”) as it gets closer to the election.

I will be watching to make sure.

What was that again?

Yes, you read it right.  Lunch on the gprwzirtq.  This is apparently the language I speak sometimes, when talking to the boys.

Hubby was gone for a few hours so I was getting ready to make everyone lunch.  We were outside, playing some tetherball, splashing in the baby pool, jumping on the trampoline, so I thought a picnic in the backyard sounded fun.  So I asked the boys if they’d like me to make hamburgers on the gprwzirtq.

They looked at me, clearly confused as to what their dear, fragile, confused mother was saying.

In response to the blank stares, I said, again, do you want me to put some burgers on the gprwzirtq?????

They looked at each other and said, “Wha?  You know how to do that?”  While both were really thinking, Mom has finally lost her mind. 

The grill, people.  These two little people have apparently been victims of a horrible disservice done by their parents.  Stereotyping.  Since they’ve never seen me grill, they clearly thought I couldn’t possibly know how to use it.  I mean, I’m a GIRL, after all!!!  This is a big scary Complex Piece of Outdoor Equipment, designed for manly men (said with a gutteral growl and lots of Tim-Allen-esque “oh oh oh oh’s”)!

 

This might explain why they think Daddy doesn’t know how to use the Hoover, eh? 

Ah.  Listen.  The sound of… nothing.  My son had three teenage friends over for four days to celebrate his 15th birthday.  Teenage boys.  That equates to at least 1.34 elephants, on the “how much can they eat” scale.

Our normal six-person family breakfast on the weekends is bad enough (a loaf of bread, package of bacon, dozen eggs, package of cheese, half gallon of milk, for example) but add three more 150 pound little men into the mix and this mama spent a LOT of time on food duty!   The boys did enjoy some dogs over the open pit fire, and some burgers on the grill, but dogs and burgers doth not sustain the growing boy.  Wowza.

I had my physical yesterday – EKG and other data looked good, they took enough blood to give Dracula a nice meal, and we discussed the ultrasound on my foot this Thursday.  And dang it, I still haven’t gotten out to get my shoes, my kid’s plans interfered!

I took some time off the computer this weekend and yesterday, and I must say it was liberating.  Sadly, I’ve gotten myself wrapped up in some message boards that aren’t healthy for me, and I think I have to take a vacation from the negativity and drama.  I just think I might be too old to have the cliques and arguments and things that are reminiscent of the high school I graduated from 25 years ago.

I just need to continue maintain my relationships only with those groups that are more like me – less mainstream, more AP, more “I parent with common sense and just because a book (or website, or doctor, or friend, or grandma, or stranger on the internet) says *this* doesn’t make it right” people…   In my valiant efforts to teach those that are possibly unteachable (or simply unwilling), I’ve only succeeded in frustrating myself.  So, I feel freed, much more at peace, and less concerned with trying to help new (and veteran) moms find a way that might be a little different (and probably easier, cheaper, less stressful, more fun, and on and on and on) than the ”WTEWYE Mentality” – it’s apparent a lot don’t want to do it any other way, and that’s fantastic… hopefully they’ll seek out help when they need it, and get good, valid, up-to-date information wherever they look.  Everyone is trying to be the best mom possible, I just hope my 15+ years experience, extreme confidence, and good knowledge helped one or two along the way!

That’s my Tuesday musings for the time being… entertaining tens of people every week. 

Tomorrow you will be 15.  Fifteen years ago today I had no idea what a miracle I would be holding in a short 24 hours.  And I had no idea how much my life would be enriched.

Nor would I have any idea how fast a decade and a half would fly.

I’ve watched you learn it all – and as a teenager, you know it all.    From crawling, to walking, to – in six months – DRIVING.  You are becoming a man.  My firstborn.

I love you.  I know you won’t totally grasp the depth of that love until you hold your own child.  No one can fully understand that a mother or father would throw themselves in front of a bus for their baby, until they have that baby.  And you are still my baby.  You always will be.  That embarrasses you now, but it will be a comfort some day.  I promise you that.

We’ve had a great times and our bad.  Your short stint in our Home Maximum Security Prison was hard… but we all survived.  And if you think it sucked for you to be stuck here for all those months, think of those that had to survive your moping.  Yeah, that sucked too.    But you learned, you changed, you grew. 

Yes, Dad and I still plan on practicing our duets when you bring your first girlfriend home to meet us.  It is our obligation to try to embarrass you if we can.  We are truly looking forward to it.  mwahhahahahhaaaa

And our afternoon discussions.  I wouldn’t trade that few hours for the world.  Every day you come home from school, and we talk about politics, or current events, or anything… and you can discuss them with such intelligence, common sense, and intuitiveness it gives me chills.  I am in awe of you.

I made you.  This fact still amazes me.  I made this tall, handsome, brilliant, funny, classy being that I know is going to make such an impact on this world.  Whatever you choose to do with your life, be happy.  BE HAPPY.  And always make those around you happy.

Always remember to be kind.  That’s the most important thing I want to implore you to do.  Your smile and kind words may make someone’s day.  It could change someone’s life.  And it’s so easy to do.  Don’t be rude or cruel.  Don’t be jealous, and don’t allow yourself to worry.  Those are two more wasted emotions.

Always put your family first.  We’re always going to be there – friends may not be.  There may be bumps in that road, but the bumps are what you use to hold onto while you climb.  Without those bumps, you may slip.  Your brother loves you so much, and believe me, I know it’s hard to understand that now.  When you’re 25, or 30, or 40, you’ll depend on that love to get you through rough times.  And you’ll depend on that love to be there during the good times. 

Your sisters are really going to depend on you.  They look up to you now – and I know, I know – you don’t fully “get” that either.  You are so fortunate.  We are all very blessed.

I hope you meet someone that makes you happy.  After all these years, I still want to hug Daddy so hard I end up on the other side of him, and I hope you find that too.  You deserve it.

I love you so much.  I hope you have a Happy 15th Birthday, and many, many more.

Okay, I think I have been told all the stories possible about their trip.  They’re still getting over jetlag, still trying to catch up to “feeling like home” again.  They’ve called all their friends, arranged all their get-togethers for the next couple of weeks until school starts again, have destroyed their previously Mom Busted Her Arse To Get Clean rooms.  Ah, life is back to normal!

Brett showed me the Google Earth images of where his dad and new (yup, #4) stepmom live – really quaint, really beautiful.  She’s an officer, I guess, so she has some good bucks to live off post, and it’s a gorgeous part of Germany they live in.  I really like Liz, I’m glad he found her – I think she’ll “young him up”… LOL!  Their Dad never wants to move back to the US, I guess…  After seeing the shops and castles and countryside on GE, I can understand why.  Incredible.  Like right out of a Cary Grant movie.  Yup, I wanna live in Europe somewhere beautiful like that.  London.  Venice.  Somewhere where the life is slower, the grass is greener, the people are nicer, on and on and on… I know it exists – I know people from lots of different countries, and they say it’s just so different there – PLEASANTLY different, I should add.  Oh well.  Maybe if we hit the lottery.  Or if Obama gets elected.  Whoops – did I say that out loud?

 Tonite is the test of Will the Boys Find Hidden Vegetables.  I’ve prepared my meatloaf (it’s yummy!) but have added a pureed mixture of green peppers, onions, carrots, and garlic.  I made it this morning so that they didn’t see me… Covert Cooking at it’s finest.

 

My SIL with cancer is staying at my mom’s house for the three weeks that she’s going to be receiving the radiation to reduce the tumor.  My other brother is driving in from Indianapolis tomorrow and we’re all heading over for pizza night.  I’m nervous, I just don’t know what to say to her.  I know if it were me, I’d just want everyone to get over it, laugh and love, have a good time, it is what it is.  But it doesn’t change my awkwardness or sadness at her illness, my brother’s loss of a wife of 28 years, her children’s loss of their mother, her grandchildren’s loss of a grandma that would read them stories and take them to the park.  It’s not fair.

That being said, I watched Dateline the other night about Randy Pausch, the famous professor who died of pancreatic cancer just a few days ago.  I cried for a man I don’t even know.  If you haven’t seen his lecture or read his story, please do (I’ve added it at the end of this post) – it will open your eyes to what is truly important in your world.  The man is incredible.  I need to remember his words when I hug my SIL tomorrow night.

And I also want to send prayers to all that are suffering an affliction, be it cancer, a simple cold, or a black heart.  TIme here is so short.  Live, love, and laugh – that is what is truly important.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo]

 

was emptying the dishwasher yesterday, and I told him I also needed the trash taken out…

He looked at me, with a smirk, and said, “So, I’m really just your beotch, aren’t I, Mom?”

I looked at him, shocked – he rarely curses – and told him I was horribly disappointed.

 

 

 

 

That it took him this long to figure that out.

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