It's All About The Biggest

and The Tiniest : )



Biggest called: She said, You don't love me!

What?

You write whole posts about Mid and Littlest all the time but you never say anything about me.

What? Yes I do, BUT just for Princess PITA...

Biggest is 37 weeks pregnant. She's ALL baby. We suggested she paint her stomach orange and draw a face on it for Halloween... she didn't like that idea. She looks beautiful. She isn't due till November 22cd but the doctor told her the baby was big and really could come at any time so she's convinced she's in labor about twice a week. Though I point out to her on a regular basis that she will KNOW a real contraction when she feels one, she still calls me every few days to ask about things she's feeling. She hasn't read many books to prepare her for having a baby because she says she has ME for that, and a lot of stuff in the books about things that go wrong scare her and make her worry. Despite the fact that I haven't been pregnant in 18 years, I try to remember as well as I can. She calls at least once a week to worry that there will be something wrong with the baby. I tell her, if there is, you will deal with it. But I'm sure everything is fine. Even though her parents torture her, because Biggest was standing by the sink and DecentGuy threw a chunk of ice in it and the loud noise seemed to startle the baby and make her jump around. So they did it again.....

 She has picked out a most adorable and lovely name and I'm relieved it isn't 'Tree' or 'Axe' or 'Bobette Marley.' In keeping with her lifestyle she has decorated the nursery with a 'Forest Friends' theme from Target.

 This is the Target ad, not the real room.



The real room is small and cozy and yellow and it's the sweetest. DecentGuy worked hard painting and putting in new flooring and bought wooden letters to spell her name and painted them to put  up over her crib. He's an excited future Daddy and we have (another) spoiled little girl in our future. They are as ready as they can possibly be.

Biggest is already thinking about good schools and what toys and tv shows are appropriate and savings accounts. She originally thought about starting an account for college but then decided to start one for the Great-She's Finally Big Enough to Enjoy It- trip to Disney World when the baby's old enough-after all she was conceived there- Then they will start a college savings.
She is busily going through her nesting stage, which is really something because she's already OCD about everything being in it's place. She's re-folded baby clothes a thousand times and everything looks perfect. She is going to be a terrific Mom because she already has an active Worry Button that came pre-installed and if the child so much as bats an eye she'll be standing over her watching like a hawk to figure out why and what she should do about it. She's going to be Fine. She's going to be a Fine Mama. And she's Finally going to drive me completely crazy ; )

So My Sunshine, I am very proud of you and excited too! And there will be plenty more posts in the future about you as a Mama. You are going to be Amazing : ) You know the music we played for you when you were little to help you sleep. You have your own copy now. Just Remember...

Except For The Part About Me
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As for me, I'm going in for some restoration. I'll be heading to the highlands to sit on my rock and listen to the creek and see some colors besides green. Even though it's my favorite color, the eye and the soul need a change from time to time and it's been several years since I've been able to go in the fall. Plus I'll get to wear my sweaters and boots! I need it desperately right now. Even more so because I have a series of work projects as soon as I get back.
I told Biggest to quit trying to have that baby early and cross her legs, because if she goes into labor while I'm gone I'll never speak to her again.  The new definition of Never being, as soon as I can rush back and get ahold of my granddaughter. But hopefully the little Bug will keep cooking a little longer and come when she's supposed to, just in time for Thanksgiving. And I will be thankful indeed!



© 2013 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Because Your Heart Is a Beautiful Journey

When she was born she had milk glass skin and cobalt marble eyes,
 her hair rich earthen brown.

Her heart was pure.

My Biggest is somehow turning-what the heck happened- twenty six years old.

And going to have her own child.

My firstborn beauty. Time is such a player of tricks. An illusion and much too substantial at the same time. The day you began your journey is yesterday in my heart. A million years in my soul. You are not on the journey you imagined. Not the adventure you planned. But I promise that you are on the journey of your life. The adventure of a lifetime-because no matter what you think, it actually lasts a lifetime ; )...um... The journey of your heart. Your outer changes over the years have been plentiful and this is merely another temporary state. Your heart however has always been steadfast. Regardless of the way, regardless of the means, you have arrived at this point in your journey having grown into someone I am so proud of. I know that mountain ahead of you looks massive. But just remember what you have journeyed through so far. And you made it. And are better than ever. You are always you on the inside. I promise you that. And even as your outside changes... someday becoming someone you don't recognize ; )...um.. Your mind and your heart continue that journey becoming an even better you and more beautiful every year.


You and Decent Guy have come such an incredibly long way already. There have been many changes through the years watching you both grow. There will be more. But so far they have all been for the good. I am very proud of you both.
I love the new theme song you found for the two of you, it's perfectly appropriate : )


"It's the Ones Who've Cracked That the Light Shines Through"
The Title of the Album Says It All, Darlin!

I Saw a Hippie Girl on 8th Avenue-Jeffrey Lewis

 

 

Happy Birthday Bat Girl!!!!


You're still psychedelic rainbows...with a badass bit of swing...deep inside your heart.


P.S, I will be traveling after the 15th. If I miss you, catch ya later!

© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Re-Run. Just For Fun!

Not long after I began my blog in 2009, Biggest got married. Shortly after her wedding I created this post. I was a little nervous about it but couldn't resist.  I only had four followers and don't think anyone actually read it to begin with and at the time, no one at home knew about the blog and I figured I could always delete it if necessary. After three and half a years I find I don't really give a heck anyway. So in light of recent events in Biggests life I think it is perfectly appropriate to re-visit this topic-and add an update ; )

Some Kind of Biological Switch Flipped: Originally Published December 2009



The first thing I asked Biggest, when she told me in October that she wanted to get married around the weeks between November & December, was, are you pregnant? The answer was no, and her Guy said "no, she is marrying me for my health insurance". Really they have been together almost 4 years & were just ready to go at a time when it would suit where they wanted to go for a honeymoon after the holidays, without being during them.  They thankfully aren't in any hurry to have kids. Of course, neither were we, but there you go. Anyway.....


I have informed my children that they do not have to present me with anything for a very long time. I have been taking care of others my entire adult life. I only have 4 years to go until I am not responsible for anyone and I can't wait to not have to consult anyone's life but my husbands. And he feels the same. We have let them know that if anything happens within the next 10 ten years, baby sitting services will be limited to special occasions & illness. I refuse to raise anything else more complicated than a sea monkey. Or maybe a kitten. Those feelings may change but for now I'm standing my ground. I have, however,  thought it through to the point of setting aside some of the girls more special toys & books for my future grandkids.

On the flip side, the other Mother in Law was already thinking of grandbabies before the wedding and began on the subject during the reception. I don't grudge her that at all. The Groom is an only child. I can certainly understand her feelings. I had not met the other inlaws before Friday. They live out of town. Before I go further I want to make something very clear. They are Very Nice. I Truly Liked them Very Much. They just have slightly different hobbies than we do. That said.....

 This is just my personal feeling, I don't want to ruffle in open air loving feathers. It's any adults personal choice. But I am scared as hell of motorcycles. I have seen one in an accident. My husband borrowed one from a friend as a young man and was injured. My sister is a retired police officer and over the years filled me in on some more details. We both made sure to instill this terror in our children. I will digress to tell the story of the time Biggest had a boyfriend with a bike and avoided getting on it by telling him we would not allow it. I informed him she was 18, she could do whatever she wanted. But that's another point. Sometimes she's a wimp when she doesn't want to have a conflict with someone.

I'm getting to the point, really.

At the reception, the other mother in law was in the throes of future grandbaby passion when these words came out of her mouth.
 "Oh, and just think, and especially if it's a girl, I can get her on my bike and teach her to ride."

My brain experienced something like white static. I didn't have to bite my tongue cause I was speechless. I seriously think I felt some kind of internal switch get flipped in my head.

 (Is there such a thing as Grandmaternal instinct?)  Did she just say something about putting one of MY GRANDBABIES on a MOTORCYCLE? !!

Oh I Don't Think So!

Later that night,  Middlest mentioned that the other mother in law was really anxious for some babies.

"I know, I answered,
 But did you hear what she said about the bike." If they think anyone's putting one of MY GRANDBABIES on a MOTORCYCLE it's over my dead body!"

Middlest laughed,"Gosh Mom, what are you gonna have.. a Granny Smackdown?!
Well, possibly....

Biggest called me today worried that, 1st, her new mom in law was going to be frustrated  with the non appearance of a grandchild any time soon, and 2cd, that when there was one they might try to put it on a motorcycle. I told her to remember that this is Her life and that when she has a child it will also be Hers. Nobody, Including Me, has a say in raising it except she and her husband. Period. That when she felt strongly about something she did not have to keep the peace, but should be considerate and respectful while standing her ground.

All this "Big Ta Do" over a non existent and unplanned child.
Oh God, we really are all nuts.
And I need to ponder where that "switch" came from.

But it helps me remember that I have the most Awesome and Wonderful Mother in Law in the World. I think I will call her and tell her I Love Her right now. And Thank You. for always asking, never presuming, and watching my kids too, sometimes just for fun!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE 2013

Last week Biggest called. She said: I have a migraine.

She told me Decent Guys Mom and Step dad drove up and descended on them for the weekend, ready for an epic baby shopping spree. Biggest is still in her first trimester. Her mother in law proceeded to list everything she wanted to get. Persisted in rubbing Biggest stomach and announced to the hostess at a restaurant that Biggest was "carrying her grandchild." If you've been around here long enough, you know Biggest. You can imagine how well that went over.

A few days later Biggest was visiting me. She was complaining that she tried to tell her mother in law that it is still very early and she isn't ready to start buying things yet. She wants to wait a little while and make sure all is well and take her time and she wants to pick things out herself to make sure it's stuff she likes.. Her mother in law just didn't get it.

I told her to be patient. Her MIL is just excited. After all, I've had a few day dreams about little plaid skirts and maryjanes-possible little league games-snuggling up with somebody to read Peter Rabbit....
I told her: "Don't hurt her feelings, she just wants to help."

Biggest looked at me with fire in her eyes.
She won't stop.
 She 's showing me onesies with Harley Davidson on them saying," Isn't this cute?"
No! No It Is Not Cute!

Uh Oh. What was that click?

Oh I Don't Think So................





© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

A Quarter Century of Parenthood

By chance this year Fathers Day and Biggests Birthday will coincide exactly. What makes it even more special is that it will be her 25th birthday. Making this The SeaMonkey's Silver Father Anniversary : ) He will tell you that the strands of silver weaving through his hair were absolutely put there by being her father for 25 years ; ) Twenty five years since he kissed us goodbye at the hospital and came home to fall asleep with his head in a closet, nestled among newborn kittens. Because while I labored our cat did also. He has been a wonderful father for girls. He's tough when needed but is always there trying to provide everything they need to accomplish their goals. He has supported them and made it clear that girls can do as much as boys and more and that his girls...are stubborn...and opinionated...and frustrating...and...the people he loves most in this world.
So on Sunday, I will wish the SeaMonkey a Happy Fathers Day- 25 Year Dad Anniversary!
We can get some kittens to celebrate if you want to. No? ok, just checking...

And my Biggest is a grown woman.  A Wonderful One. That's the strangest part for me. Because even though she is a quarter century old she will always be my girl. For a long time it was just the two of us. I was still a child (21) when I had her. We were playmates when she was small. Constant companions. And I will still young enough to go down the slide at the park. This child changed my life in every way imaginable.  All for the good. When I was pregnant I was given an AFP test. Very common and useful for finding birth defects like Spina Bifida. It also supposedly could show a chance for Down Syndrome. And that's how my levels came back. Talk about scared? We were sent to a geneticist. They were very pushy about having amniocentesis, which was still relatively new. After over an hour of questions and prodding she admitted that, at my age,  the chances of my child having Down Syndrome were much lower than the chances of the test prompting a miscarriage. Talk about mad?  When further questioned about whether anything could be done to improve the situation if the amnio confirmed Down Syndrome,  the only thing she could offer was that an abortion could be done. Talk about more Mad? I was 22 weeks pregnant. I was already feeling flutters. I remember the moment. I was sitting at work and literally felt...butterflies. And what the hell is wrong with Down Syndrome?  Harder certainly but so what? The doctor was lucky My Mama (Because I wanted My Mama there with me) didn't slap her before we marched out in indignation. And worried a little for the rest of the pregnancy. But only a little. Because I had already changed my lifestyle for this child. Already determined that even though it would be a struggle I would remain home with her. Already determined that the world revolved around this baby. And nothing could change that. When she was born the first thing I asked was, Is she ok? There was No Sign of Down Syndrome. She was perfect. Except for her heartbeat, which was not. And so she spent her first hours in the infant ICU. More fear. But all of this taught me something very quickly. What it meant to be a parent. I was introduced to that powerful love, but also powerful fear very early. Maybe that is what gave me the strength to fight through her teenage years, when it sometimes felt like life was just conspiring to take this child from me. Even before she was born  I could illustrate myself with eyes wild and teeth bared, my arms crossed tight across my body holding her close to my heart and snarling...MINE...Mine. 

I had to learn to share of course and she is very much grown up and her own person..but all the same..my child.

Happy Twenty Fifth Birthday to My Biggest Girl! ....My Sunshine : )
Though you share the revolution with your sisters you are shining brighter than ever : )

Got Kittens?...just checking...


I've used this here on your birthdays before but nothing says it better for me.

© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Now, Where Was I....

Oh. Yes. After harassing Bleeps department store I left on my trip.  Now that I returned last night and made a mad dash to the store for turkey and stuff,  alleviating  my anxiety that they would be out of those little white heat and serve rolls, and am under the influence of over a weeks worth of laundry, I can take a moment between cycles to catch up.

I left just at the moment of the full moon and so was not able to give my monthly report. However, being away did not stop the lunacy at all and I can now share Novembers events.

First, and simplest of all, the night before I left,

Biggest called.

And told me I have a new grandchild.

His name is Eugene. He is approximately 7 to 8 weeks old. We weren't home an hour before she was calling to see if she could bring him over. Apparently Eugene's Mama was carrying him across a road when a jerk in a truck almost hit her and she dropped Eugene and ran into the woods. A nice lady saw this and stopped to get him out of the road but Eugene's mama never came back so she scooped him up and the natural magnetism of the earth aided by the full moon brought her in the direction of Biggest.
Now Eugene has a new Mama.

We also had some teenage drama in the week before I left. The night before I left , a Thursday, was Homecoming week at Littlests' school. She and her boyfriend had mutually decided that wasn't their bag. However Lits' boyfriend has a female friend that Littlest just barely abides, because she doesn't trust her. So. This young lady kept lamenting the fact that she was not going to Homecoming so pitifully, and pathetically, and constantly that a few days before Homecoming Lits boyfriend took pity on her and volunteered to take her and sent Littlest a message letting her know and asking if since he was going anyway did she want to tag along too.

Yeah.

The sequence of reactions from both Littlests' friends and family went some thing like this:

What? Dump him. Can he really be that dense? He can't be that dense?

Yes. He. Can.

So she dumped. They both cried. Then he must have performed some kind of desperate gesture because within 24 hours He was not going to Homecoming and Thursday night he was hanging out at our house with Littlest,  watching movies. Wait...wait...this is the full moon part...During the course of the evening...

I Heard Her GIGGLE- I've been sworn to secrecy but that's why I'm anonymous.

Last of all. I may have mentioned Middlests' singing before. Mid has a full rich voice that could grace a mezzo soprano diva. And the pitch of....a toddler with a wiffle ball.  If she sings along with someone she does ok but otherwise it is something akin to a cat fight.  She was able to tune her instruments by ear with no problem. Maybe playing in bass clef all those years confused her brain. I bought the girl an Irish whistle on our trip and in less than 24 hours she has worked out,  Oh Danny Boy and part of the theme song to Lord of the Rings. I don't know what the disconnect is with her vocal cords but one of the things I love about her is that it doesn't stop her. She sings her heart out. It doesn't matter where either. She often sings while walking or riding her bike down the road. Which leads me to the phone call I received from her while I  was gone. It went like this.

Mom. I'm walking home from work and first that stray cat started following me again and I was walking along with him and was singing and was halfway thru the cut through neighborhood and three police cars suddenly came tearing up and stopped to question me because someone reported I was walking down the road threatening to kill myself.

What?! What did they say?

They said someone called and then they asked if I was alright and where I was coming from and where I was going and made me show them my ID.  I told them I was perfectly happy I was just going home and singing. Then they asked if that was my cat and I said no.

What on earth were you singing?

Nothing really. Just some Rancid ........

and The Hare Krishna Song.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As for The SeaMonkey and I we had a wonderful time. It has been over two years since we went on a vacation and visited the mountains. And though we do get to travel for business and spend some time together we realized it had actually been ten years since we have been able to go on a vacation trip together. Just us. That was way overdue and though we missed our girls at certain landmarks it was nice We really needed it.


We drove to Virginia where there were still a few pockets of gorgeous fall color and then followed the Blue Ridge Parkway down to North Carolina and across to Tennessee where we played in The Smokies for several days. We had some lovely cold weather and I sat on my rock.

This is my rock.

And I could play with all the smaller rocks to my hearts content.





We had a couple days of really good rain and the rivers swelled and were raging. And then best of all, up in the mountains of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, It Snowed!  I know many of you live in places where the trees become bare and it snows tons so winter isn't a big deal but to people who don't get a serious winter it can be very exciting. That morning it snowed for four hours leaving about a 1/4 inch on the ground and getting drifts of maybe 1/2 inch! ; ) Snow does something to natural born Floridians and others from warmer climates. For four hours we played around in the snow and watched others do the same. All ages, young and old, acting silly, taking pictures, throwing snow, catching snow, dancing around in snow and just watching in wonder as it fell on us. It was as much fun as playing in it to drive past and watch a group of people with cameras and looks of pure delight on their faces jumping around in ecstasy and joy. We craned our necks to check as we passed. Yep. Florida tags : ) 

The next morning there were still a few pockets in the shaded places and I did what any good Southerner would do with a wealth of half inch of snow

Made the worlds smallest snowman!

I had my fall and winter all in one week and it was wonderful : )

I told The SeaMonkey I was going to have all the snow pictures blown up, paste them to the windows and have my own personal white Christmas. But even if it ends up being 80 I am feeling Refreshed and Blessed and Thankful beyond words. Bring on The Holidays! I'm ready.

 HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

and if you're one of my friends from outside the US, have a Wonderful Week in general and eat some turkey anyway, just cause it's Awesome ; )



Then Sings My Soul. Those might be the words.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

 

Biggest Called...

She said,

Where are you? What are you doing? You have to go look this song up on YouTube and listen to it right now! No. You have to listen to it right now while I'm on the phone! I was listening to it and when I heard it I told Decent Guy,

 I think this is MY SONG. For the way I used to be.

Then I realized,

I think this is MY SONG FOR MY PARENTS

I said,

I Love You Too.

My oldest daughter has come a long way since she was a teenager. I think she carries a burden of guilt that is not necessary. The past is past. She is self aware now instead of self concious. I am indescribably proud of her. But, like her mother, there are things she does not know how to say out loud. Her feelings a giant boulder she cannot lift at once. Instead She finds pebbles along the way and drops them as markers on the path to her heart.





Blogger still hasn't given this post or the first comments on it back yet and I'm tired of waiting so I am doing it myself!

Comments made before the end of the world as we know it:

Bibliomama
Oh. Wow. It must be amazing to reach that point in your relationship with your child. Happy Pebble Day.

Me: Allison, Happy Pebble Day: ) I like it!

Ms. A
Dropping pebbles is good starting point. The farther we travel from our past, the easier it gets to drop boulders. At least for me.

Me: true! I think that's what I'm doing with these blogs.

the mombshell
Allison always beats me here and says exactly what I would have said if I was wicked smart and had awesome curly hair. So, what Allison said.

Me: Yes! Allison is Awesome and So Are You. And I know. I wish I was wicked smart and had awesome curly hair like Allison too!

Linda Medrano
Great Song! I'm thinking it's difficult for us to let go of the past sometimes though. Your daughter is finding a way. Good for her!

Me:  I love the song. It's so appropriate she could she have wrote it.

Help! Mama Remote...
I think its a precious thing for a child to recognize they gave their parents trouble in their youth. I also think they turn out to be some of the greatest adults :)

Me: Help Mama: Nicole: I think you are 100% right!

Accidental Expert

OK you've given me goosebumps. How beautiful.
You're also giving my hope that my girl will one day be able to drop some pebbles herself.

Me: I'm sure she will : )

It's A Gift.

 And then she said to me, "Guess what I did today."

She coasts along the road nearest the beach. Shoving off with the right foot. The bottom black with embedded dirt stained into the callouses. The other foot just as tough and gray rests comfortably on the harsh sandpapered gripping surface of the gravity board. The toes are ringed. Encircled with silver. Carved and twisted and fanciful. Tarnished in places as black as the feet they adorn.
She wears jeans that are old and stained. ripped at the pockets. The hems too long and shredded at the bottom. Coming apart in strings like over done pot roast. They aren't very clean. A Dead Bears patch flapping, coming loose at one pocket. A graying wife beater tank top frayed at the hems with a safety pin holding a torn shoulder strap. Her ears bear silver studs and small loops in a half moon tacked like upholstery, except for the lobes which are strangely bare. Her features are delicate but the expression on her face is stern. Set in seemingly immovable stone. Her skin is clear and pale though she skirts the sun stewed pot of summer revelers with the exception of her shoulders which bear a dusting of reddish tan and freckles.  She does not play in the sand. She will not swim. She seeks the shaded heat behind the buildings that cater to the beach goer's. Supplying their food, drink and novelties. Her eyes a shocking blue that springs from the paleness of her skin. Standing out even more with the contrast of the purpled shadows beneath them. Her arms stay at her sides with an occasional swing to aid momentum. The skin here unmarked by nature.  An evil brown scar bisects her upper arm. Her hair is wild. Knotted and matted in dreadlocks pointing in all directions. Bouncing about her head rather than flowing in the wind. They are dyed red.  An inferno burning down the street in the middle of a summer afternoon.

It has rained earlier in the day. The old streets drain slowly. Large and small puddles lie about stirred with street grit and muddied with dirt. Tiny bits of gravel and rock that have always existed along the gutters mark an obstacle course she readily weaves through. Expert. It doesn't even take thought to navigate. So she is not thinking about it. And suddenly....

The board stops and slides sideways into the mud and she flies. Not smoothly forward but head first.  Then leaning back and catching herself with an ingrained instinct buried deep within her and never considered. A softball slide. Into a  puddle swimming with grit. The side of her jeans and shirt soaked and muddied. Her arms smeared and scraped. Road burn. She picks herself up and lets fly a string of curse words. Filthy ones. She picks up the board and looking up sees a man standing at the back door to a surf shop, smoking. He stands there watching but when she looks his way asks, "Are you alright"? She says "Yeah". Reaching into her back pocket for a smashed soft pack of Marlboro Reds and pulling one out she asks him, "Got a Light?"  She approaches, placing the cigarette between her lips with all the nonchalance of a jaded dame though in fact her years are merely sixteen. She tilts her head as he lights the cigarette. Her eyes squint whenever she lights up. Her mouth in a frowning grimace. She blows the smoke coolly having saved her dignity in this display of worldliness. "Thanks", she says and looks up at him.

And Smiles.

She turns to go dropping the gravity board to the pavement. Her back straight and proud though painted in drying mud she kicks off and rolls a few feet before she hears, "Wait! Hey Wait! Come back!"

She stops. Turning and looking back with curiosity at him standing there watching her and then he calls out,

Do you want a job?



© 2010 All Rights Reserved

This is a true story that took place in 2004.  My oldest daughter is a charmed person with a smile that works magic and makes people blind to everything else around them. I have taken license in describing the scene where I was not present by my familiarity with her and using the details she described to me.

This is what you call a chicken out.

Nevermind.

Ok, BlueViolet asked for an explanation for the post above so I'm editing again and this part is added.

This is the explanation for my panic attack decision to remove the post ; )

I actually meant to send it back to draft but forgot. I deleted the contents because the beginning still showed up in the reader.

It was a post I wrote with a prompt from a writing blog. When I went back to link it up I re-read the blog owners post and some of the others and seriously felt that it was...well...a little too serious. However. I feel the post was important and I think I may be reworking my extra ( Error 503) blog, that I've just been playing around in, into a place where I put some of the posts that I'm not sure everyone would want to read but are things I need to write. If I have time I will work on that today and I already have 3 posts that I feel would belong there.  I'm thinking about it. : )

Reaping The Harvest Moon

I posted my moon music early because my family started celebrating the full moon last week. They have been crying for 10 days straight. Sometimes taking turns. Sometimes in groups. Reaching their peak on Monday, which is when all of them cried. By 8:30 am I was picking up two daughters. One who walked out on her job and the other from school. At the end of the day Littlest came home and said "oh, I cried today too. But they're used to me at my school." What are they crying about? Let's see.

Biggest: Just can't stop crying. She said everything was making her cry. She left work early twice last week and on Monday she walked in to work and noticed her schedule had changed and became hysterical. She doesn't really know why. Maybe it's because she's reached the ripe old age of 23 and hasn't been to Africa yet. This has been a dream of hers since she was around 9 and wanted to be Jane Goodall when she grew up.  Luckily her employers are the kindest, most understanding people I can imagine and they love her. They said come back when you're ok. They are awesome.

Littlest: Is over stressed at her school. She says she started crying because she had to write an essay on a life changing event and she just couldn't think of anything to write. Obliviously she hasn't been to Africa either.  Her day begins at 5:30 am. She is on a bus at 7. She steps off the bus at 4:30 in the afternoon. She has 5 core courses and 3 intensive writing courses that expect written work at the same time. She hysterically told me that the school was killing her and she just couldn't do it. I said, "You can leave. It's ok. Your sister left and you can go to the same school as her." But No. She refuses to go to the regular high school because it "sucks". She hates the people that go there. So apparently there is no solution. Why does she hate the idea of that school so much? Here's why.

Middlest: Cried because the dog ripped a hole in her jeans and because she tried to get a water out of the machine at school and got an orange juice instead. She cried because like every year she was anxious for school to start. She was ready to start fresh and she didn't even have to go to Africa. She bought brightly colored pretty clothes. She had a very positive attitude.

Middlest tends to be a target. It doesn't make much sense. I'm going to be straight up about the things kids pick on each other for. She looks like an average teen girl. I think she is an attractive girl. She wears decent clothes and nothing that stands out for attention. She is very smart but not at all a geeky I love my A's type. She is very talented, but humble about it and acknowledges and admires students who are more skilled than herself. What is it? Possibly this.
She is willing to be herself and that person is not afraid to be goofy. She is not embarrassed to be herself even when she is breaking out, or wearing her glasses, or feels like singing out of tune out loud or dancing in the rain in the school courtyard. She does not conform to the mold." And that is unforgivable. I don't know why she let's them intimidate her but they do.
Last week it was time for school clubs to begin. Middlest has avoided the clubs because she never felt comfortable with the kids in them. This year they started a club that is based on Challenge Day. Check the link if you aren't familiar with it. It's about trying to teach teens to be more understanding of each others differences. Build a bridge so to speak. You don't have to cross it but at least respect it. Middlest has always thought Challenge Day was kind of cool and she thought she would check out the club and that it would be interesting to help organize the event this year. When she came home I asked her how it went.

"I didn't go to that one"

"Why not, I think you would be good at it?"

"I looked in the door and it was all the people who have been picking on me and making my life miserable for the past two years."

"Well, that seems like people who need to be involved with it. You should go and give it a chance. Isn't that the whole purpose?"

" I don't want to be around them. They are all the girls who don't like me. They talk about me and make fun of me"

"If they are there maybe they are growing up a little bit and are making changes in their lives. Wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to fix this problem and maybe make some new friends?"

"They don't really care about it Mom. They are only there because it looks good on their college apps."

Yes. I see. I feel a little bit like crying too.

P.S. I am completely aware that this post is rambling and kind of pointless but I am under a busy schedule and big work load right now with about 5 minutes of free time each day. Between that and navigating the puddles from the meltdowns, I simply needed a vent.

This post has been edited. If the early comments seem strange it is because I posted a photo of Middlest with the question "can you see the target painted on this girl?" for a few hours but didn't want to leave it up very long as it breaks my blogging rules. I just couldn't resist the temptation ; )

 © 2010 All Rights Reserved

Happy Birthday Week Sunshine!

My Biggest will be 23 by the end of this week. This beautiful and complex creation does not make me feel old but instead makes me believe in miracles. In a way Time seems to have sped straight through to today. In another way whole periods seem to have been in another lifetime all together.  A gift to us in 1987. One we thought we had lost to her mistakes but that was returned to us.

When I was 21 I never dreamed as far as this time. I only held tight, rocking and sang "your baby song", the phrase, "Please don't take my Sunshine away", never dreaming. Obviously someone was listening.

For she whose smile is so like the Sun radiating out to fall upon us that strangers are struck still and acquaintances moved to return to her presence bearing gifts.  When she says for her, a Birth-Day is not sufficient but Birthday Week should be celebrated, all are blinded and cannot help but agree that this must be so and search for ways to accommodate her. A week is more than worth the gift of your presence in our lives every day.

Though I am relieved you feel that you have grown out of Birthday Month.

Luv U My Sunshine!
This week I am listening to your "grown song".
Everyone knows the world revolves around you...even the stars....you know the words ; )





dailymotion.com

Coldplay   Yellow

The G Families Big Drug Store Adventure

Or. How many Grounded-s does it take to buy a pregnancy test. Or. How long does milk really last in a hot car. Or. I know it's Wednesday but would you seriously expect me to be wordless. However..

This post was written without any quotation marks because I don't feel like it. I didn't double check my other punctuation  either.

My Monday started pretty much as usual except for when the kids told me that morning, Oh by the way we get out early this week because it's the last week of school. I somehow missed this because they haven't done it before and I thought all the important stuff was over so I kind of lost interest and just looked forward to not waking up at 5 am....even though I will anyway.

Middlest informed me she would be out at eleven so I figured, ok, I would get her first then hit the grocery so that I could waste the morning playing on my blog. I then lost track of time until a quarter till when I had to hurry and get dressed to rush out the door. At 11 I texted,  leaving.  As I was pulling away she sent: you actually have 20 more minutes. Great. I was in the car so I decided to head to the store first. All I needed was a handful of things including milk and a frozen lasagna since I was planning ahead to not feel like cooking dinner.

As I headed in I get a text from Biggest. Please take me to the bank on my lunch hour.  She pulls this all the time and usually I say no because she works 2 blocks away from the bank and I'm trying to encourage her to learn how to drive but every now and then I do it just to humor her and visit for a few minutes. I told her it would have to be fast because I would have milk in the car. She said, I wanted to talk to you too. At this moment Middlest starts texting me again about getting a ride from someone else. I say, no because I'm already out and it will kill just enough time in between the store and picking up Biggest. I am wandering through he store stopping every two feet to field texts from both of them and at one point was so distracted I wandered away from the chicken legs even though I meant to buy them,  which turned out to be a good thing.  Biggest was being cryptic and Middlest was being a pain because they had wasted so much of my time that she was ready and I was still in the store.

I finally head out and get Mid and tell her to text Big and tell her we were on our way and to be ready because I have milk in the car. We pick her up and head to the bank and she says:
I kind of wanted to stop somewhere else too.
 What?? I have milk.
She says, I still don't feel good, how long is it usually before you can tell.

Digress to the conversation and question I had asked her a couple days ago when she said:
I don't know what's wrong with me. I've felt nauseated all week and all I want to do is eat tomatoes. And I'm so tired all I can do is sleep.
Yeah, that question, to which I got the reply
I don't know.
So I asked it again and got the same answer, so I asked....
Have you been being careful?
You don't need to know if I'm being careful.
To which I replied,  I guess we are going to the drug store. But make it fast, I have milk.
And Middlest asked, what are you talking about?
No answer, to which she replied, Oh.... you guys suck at keeping secrets.

So we pull up at the drug store and I say I'm staying in the car to wait, I guess because I thought I could keep the milk colder that way or something, I don't really know. Biggest starts to whine that she wants me to come in and when I won't she starts a tug of war with Middlest to which I say:

No, someone she knows will end up seeing you and think it's for her and we will end up with rumors. But she persisted until I remembered my milk and told  Middlest to just go.

Let's stop a moment to ponder that Biggest is not only married she is going to be 23 years old next week.........Ok, let's go...

I sat there for about 3 minutes and then decided I was bored and would go in.
 I also knew what was going to happen next.

And yes, as I traveled down the aisles I followed the sound of the giggling and then heard, oh wait, I hear mom ( I carry a big noisy key chain and pretty much sound like Santa coming) and came around the corner to find Biggest taking her phone away from her ear because she was calling me,
 Which was what I knew was going to going to happen next.

She then asked, Where do they keep them?
I looked at her and said, How would I know I haven't been pregnant in 15 years.
They were standing in the tampon aisle. Yeah, wrong aisle ladies.

So we proceeded to look until we found: The pregnancy tests.....behind locked glass.
Apparently they are a hot commodity. I had no idea.
We then have a 5 minute diatribe from Biggest about how stupid that is.
So I tell her, hey, I have milk.
So we stand around and she dithers until I tell her which one to get.
Then she asks, Who opens the case?
Me: Ask at the pharmacy. 2 yards away.
Biggest: You ask.
Me: No.
Goes on several more minutes before she turns to Middlest and says: You ask.
To which Mid and I both firmly shout  answer, NO no.
Biggest: I don't want to ask at the pharmacy,  should I ask at the front?
Me: I don't care who, just ask someone, I Have Milk!!

So she goes to the front. Middlest and I stand there for a few moments before we look at each other and remember where we are standing and run to the end of the aisle to gawk in fascination at a canned tea display.
Middlest says, Tea will work. Tea, yes, that is safe and looks innocent enough.

Biggest comes back saying. I can't believe this. Half my clients are in here today. They're everywhere. I don't want anyone to see me. Please go ask..
Me: Um, No.
Middlest? No Way.
Me: I have milk.

She goes to the front and comes back and says "I have to ask at the back."

She  heads to the back and Finally someone comes to open it while she turns red and points.

Then Biggest quickly scouts for her clients and all 3 of us head to the counter while she pays for it making sure to noisily spill her change and turn even more red and call plenty of attention to the three of us standing at the counter with one item. Middlest and I making sure to hang back in case there is any doubt. As we leave about half of Middlests'  high school shows up for some reason and we narrowly escape starting  rumors.
Then she tells me that before I came in she saw a guy from school and he called her over to talk but she didn't want to, so she said, no you come here and he wouldn't and just said he'd talk to her later.
I panicked for a minute and forgot that they found the aisle after I came in and asked, did he see you in that aisle, no wonder he wouldn't come up.
She looked blank and then laughed, oh,  no....we were in the tampon aisle.
Ok,

So I say, Let's get you back to work before my milk goes bad.
Biggest:  No, I want to go to your house. Is Dad home?
Me: Yes and what about DecentGuy? He might want something to do with this.
Biggest: He said I should wait but I don't want to. I want to do it now.

Which translates in to: I Want My Mommy.

on the drive home the possibilities start to sink in and I ponder whether it is more appropriate to cry over spoiled milk......or being a Grandma.

We get in and I rush the milk to the Icebox CU and hit super cool while Biggest rushes in to the bathroom.
Then I try to act natural while I talk to my husband. Biggest comes out and I ask, are you feeling alright? No answer. Not even a nod. Her Dad calls her in to the office and shows her something he wants her to read. I keep trying to catch her eye and once when I do she just looks at me and then keeps reading. I'm about to bust a gasket and try to remain calm because she doesn't seem to want her dad to know anything. He just keeps talking and talking and she answers him and avoids my eye until their conversation is finished and silence falls for a moment before he looks at her and asks......

Are you pregnant?
Whereupon she looks up and says, NO!
What's this... ESP?
I'm just checking, he says, you guys never tell me anything.

When we are alone again she asked if it might be too early to tell and I really don't know of course because if she doesn't know the possible time frame how would I?  But I tell her I thought it would be too early for the symptoms she was describing  if it was too early to show up on a test and maybe she had a virus or just wasn't taking care of herself.

Later, I ask my husband, How did you catch on?

Him: I've only seen that look on your face 3 other times.

The milk wasn't spoiled either.


© 2010 All Rights Reserved

The Legend of Bat Girl

If you are new to my blog you may not be familiar yet with my oldest daughter Biggest who was a problem teenager.  It took some time but we have reached the point where we can look back at some of those times and find the humor in them. I wouldn't have believed that then, but feel very blessed that it is true.

The one thing Biggest never managed to do was get arrested. Even at her worst she never resorted to actually being a criminal though she was sometimes in situations that brought her in to contact with the police. She did however have a special relationship with the local police department. My town is about 3 square miles so this is a small force. Because of the way we are set up there are actually 4 different towns and police departments within a 4 mile radius and she had run ins with all of them but this story concerns our towns officers.

Halfway through ninth grade we took Biggest out of school in an attempt to separate her from the people she had fallen in with. After a short unsuccessful stint at a small private school I began to home school her.

One morning I woke to "one of those days". Both the little girls had become sick over night and were stuffed up and running fevers. I had enough Motrin left for one dose. I had to head to the store but it was kind of nice because Biggest was going on 15 and I could leave the girls with her for a few minutes instead of dragging them out sick. I was gone a total of about 15 minutes at most.

As I pulled in to the driveway I noticed that all three girls were on the front porch in their pajamas. I immediately was annoyed, what were they doing outside? I got out of the car to see 5 year old Littlest holding a stick of bamboo, 7 year old Middlest clutching a mop handle and Biggest resplendent in pink plaid pajamas with her unbrushed hair flowing wildly, a look of pure murder in her eyes, wielding a baseball bat...and a steak knife. My eyes fell to the driveway and the twisted carcass of a fallen and bludgeoned purple bike.

What was going on here!

  Bike thieves. They picked the wrong seemingly empty house on the wrong morning. She saw them sneak on to the back porch from the windows. They had been surprised by Biggest who chased them from the back yard and halfway down the street with her baseball bat. They were lucky she didn't catch up. She had a lethal swing. Biggest explained that they had gotten away with my sister in laws bike that was parked out front but had abandoned one of their bikes in the hurry to escape her. She informed me that she had killed it. The tires were suffering from multiple stab wounds so that if they tried to come back for it they couldn't get away fast. She had her army on the porch waiting to launch an offensive. Her eyes were narrowed and her nostrils flared. She may have been hanging out with a bad crowd but how dare another bad bunch come to her home and attempt to steal. I could only imagine the look on the boys faces when this unexpected vision came blowing out the door headed in their direction.

I called the police and  proceeded to lecture Biggest about bringing her sisters outside much less going out herself in that situation. She informed me they were just middle school aged kids, 12 or 13 and she could have took them all out. An officer came and I told the story from my end and then he questioned Biggest. "You chased them with a bat, he asked?" I thought I saw the corners of his mouth turn up. She told him everything and led him to the abandoned bike. "It's probably stolen too" he told us. "I'll take it and see if it's been reported." As he lifted it up to roll away he said "the tires are flat".  Biggest explained how she had attacked the tires with the steak knife to sabotage any rescue attempts. I thought I saw a struggle going on in his face as he took this in and then repeated my warnings about not confronting people. After she went in he actually did smile with an expression of pure admiration and told me "Well, I bet they weren't expecting that. She's a brave girl."

Crazy was what I was thinking but didn't say it, I was kind of tickled at her too.

It was some time later I realized that I had given birth to a Local Legend.

The first time Biggest ran away my husband went to the station to report it.  The officer who had come about the bikes began to take the report. He looked at the address and asked my husband, "This isn't Bat Girl is it?" My husband was confused for a minute and the policeman explained, "the one who chased the bike thieves with the bat."  He told him yes. My husband said he seemed very disappointed and told him that was a shame.

Over the next few years things with Biggest deteriorated and more than once we needed the assistance of the police. One time after she had disappeared for a few days she called to say she had a place to stay and was coming by for some things we wouldn't be a problem right? Because she wasn't going to stay. "Yeah. Right. Come on honey and just get your stuff that would be fine."  In this case it was the "mother" of a "friend" who had been harboring her. While she waited out side for My Child my husband went out and told her Biggest would not be going anywhere, please leave or he would contact the police. She was drunk and started screaming and cussing him and then tried to run him over with her car.  After she took off,  Biggest started having a fit and we called the cops anyway to report the whole situation. When one arrived he told my husband there wasn't much they could do but he would talk to her. As they walked in the room where she sat he paused for a minute and whispered something to my husband and my husband answered "yes". The policeman talked to her, telling her she was a lucky girl to have a nice home and a family that cared about her but it fell on deaf ears at that time.

Afterwards I asked what he had whispered. My husband answered, " he was asking how old she was and then he asked "Is it Bat Girl?"

Then there was the night I have written about before that was very bad. It was 2 A.M. She was extremely impaired, had physically attacked her father and was threatening to kill herself and us. We needed to call them in for an emergency Baker Act. When they arrived Bat Girl had disappeared. She got out the door and we weren't sure where she went but she wasn't capable of getting far. They began searching our property and then called my husband to "look at this" trying to stifle their mirth. Bat Girl may be able to navigate in total darkness while mere humans need light but as she crouched hidden deep in the trees she had forgotten something. A tiny red beacon flashed in the underbrush to point the way. She was smoking a cigarette. Bat Girl was Busted. One warned the other they were dealing with Bat Girl, be ready. She proceeded to fight them and make things as difficult as possible but her kicking and screaming and calling them names didn't thwart them. They knew Bat Girl was tough and they had sent two who were tougher, and very kind to her as well. I think even they were surprised though at how bad she looked at that time.
From time to time if they saw my husband out somewhere they would ask how she was doing.

In time things had calmed down considerably and the last time Bat Girl put in a public appearance was when she was 17 and we got a call at 11:30 PM that she had been with a group who had gone to a strip club for someones 21st birthday and the guys had been involved in a brawl. She was sober, but some of her friends were going to jail,  did we want to just come pick her up? Well sure we did, this was an episode of Little House on the Prairie compared to just a year before. I had to laugh at the idiots who ran the club and had let her in, they were in more trouble than anyone.

Bat Girl grew up and went into semi retirement. I sometimes wonder if the police recognize her. The lovely young woman walking down the street in her work scrubs going to lunch. The very personable and efficient professional with the incredible smile if they happen to be clients at her place of business. She is in disguise and has been laying low but.....

  Bat Girl has a mission in life. To be the savior of all animals. She now lives in her own small bat cave that is a haven for all creatures great and small. An unseen watchful eye on the lookout for speeding and careless drivers on her street. Recently she found an injured squirrel in her yard. It had been shot. There have been sightings lately of a pack of  tween aged boys who  have been seen strutting around, scouring her neighborhood with their BB guns.
 
Unbeknownst to them, at a sunny little house, beyond a neat and cared for little yard bursting with flowers and greenery, hidden from view on a tiny screen shaded porch hung with cheerful hanging plants...she sits.....

..... quietly..... patiently.... she watches.......and.......she waits.

© 2010 All Rights Reserved

Level:3 The Punk

Part 2 The Beginning and The End and The Yin and The Yang (Sort of)
An outline with emphasis on the dating decisions that helped shape my daughters choices.

The first day of ninth grade Biggest was in the courtyard of her new high school when she saw a sight that changed her life forever. Striding along with confidence, his tall Mohawk evilly glinting with deadly sharp tips. She gazed at his dog collar in shock and viewed his black combat boots in awe, as he proudly displayed his total rebellion against society within the circle of his Anarchy tattoo, her little preppy heart began to beat with terror.....or no ...it was

Love.

A shy, quiet girl she was in the throes of being tortured by a group of people she had thought were her friends.  Here, there was a way out. Here, she would be safe. Here, they wouldn't bother her, and they didn't, ever again. Here, they couldn't hurt her and no, they never dared.

And that's when we began our journey into hell.

When you read or hear the words  "Sudden change in appearance, new friends, different music, falling grades" they aren't kidding. They lined up like dominoes and proceeded to all fall down. It started with a new girl friend. At first I was glad. She had been hurt and lonely.  Not for long. I call this friend the Evil One. I don't feel bad for that, I met her mother, she was trying.  Next she was all in black and trying to look as scary as possible.
But this is about the boy. The Punk. He was part of the training crew that led this merry pack of little troublemakers  along the way to the counseling center affiliated with the school. It was there that this clique practiced their skills in manipulation and playing the system. They thought it was a joke. They compared notes, made stuff up, shared information on what would get the biggest rise out of parents and teachers alike. When they went to school that is. You see my little poem at the top of the page. Sometimes kids are just being rotten little jackasses and their parents have nothing to do with it.  Sometimes parents are losers. Like the "mother" who was letting these kids hang at her house and party during the day, providing them with beer and drugs, and trying to sleep with the boys.  Some of these kids obviously were living hellish lives. They turned to each other to create family and a sense of love and belonging. They did not believe that parents could really want the best for you. What I find puzzling to this day is that the ones whose families did care fell into this belief to fit in with this group. Some, like my daughter, at first felt pity and being ostracized by their other peers, welcomed the sense of belonging they found there. She didn't have to feel anxious or impress these friends. But to really belong, you had to know that parents and school and even counselors were the enemy. Only the tribe could really be trusted. And this boy taught her that society was crap, she didn't have to take it from anyone. And he was a drummer in a punk band. Who could ask for anything more. The one thing she did learn was to rant and rave. I think she had held in every angry thought for 14 years so she did learn to vent a little bit and express her anger.
   My child quickly learned that we have no power. All she had to do was tell us F U and walk out. All she had to do was make some threats,  break some stuff. Punch some walls, physically attack and look...There they are. Just like her friends said. The people who don't care about you. They expect you to be accountable. They don't love you for who you are. If they did they wouldn't try to control you. They would never expect you to do something you didn't want to do or try to interfere with what makes you happy. One of the most dangerous signs you can hear from your teenager is this: Their friends call themselves a family and have a hierarchy with parent figures, brothers and sisters. Another is: You expect me to be perfect and what you want me to be. You don't respect me for who I am so why should I respect you. This is a  system of behavior that is being used to manipulate teens by other teens and then used on family.
   But one story at a time. She dated The Punk for awhile. Then he apparently dumped her. Which caused her already damaged self esteem to spiral downward. She spiraled deeper with it. We took her out of the school. But it didn't stop the problems. Over the next two years things continued to deteriorate. Every time we made some headway we were bashed back. One of the things about a peer group like this is that they don't really care about you. But, if after an extended period of time you are not seen they start to come out. I call them the cockroaches. Just when we would get her on her feet the calls would start. And it would start again. And she met another boy.
  The Soul Destroyer. This one was self centered, abusive, and respected no one. This is when the drugs got more serious and really out of control behavior began.  I don't judge his mother. She was on her own and did the best she could. She felt guilty for having to raise him alone. But the fact is she held him accountable for nothing. In the years I knew them he never did anything that wasn't really Someone  Else's fault. We even tried to help him. Tried to point him in the right direction and encourage him. It wasn't what he wanted. During these years I watched my child turn in to someone I would avoid if I saw them walking towards me on the street. During this time she would sometimes be missing for days at a time, come home filthy, weighed  barely 100lbs. Had black circles under her eyes that looked like she hadn't slept in days, sometimes she hadn't.
This is around the time we made our final attempt at having her hospitalized. She was hanging around a lot of street people and drifters. Then she met a different type of wanderer and was introduced to a kinder gentler rebellion.
  Just before  she turned 16 she ran away again. Well, she said I'm going to a Rainbow Gathering in Ocala Fl. And we said no you are not and she said F U, yes I am and left. We did the usual & went down to report her missing. By that time I think they had a rubber stamp with her name and address up at the police station. While she was there, something weird happened. She had told her friends she had heard about this gathering and they decided to go.  They were going there to party. Biggest noticed more than the partying. She noticed a sense of peacefulness and community. She was, dare I say it, embarrassed by her friends behavior while they were there. She started to participate in the event. I don't really approve of everything she picked up there, but..... My daughter walked out of here a Punk, and came home a hippie. Peace and Love dude, well in less she drank too much and you really pissed her off.
   The Peacemaker. I call him that because he was the one that allowed her to have peace with her family. I am saving the full story for another post but he fit in better with her new style of dreadlocks, sarongs & going barefoot. She shed the Soul Destroyer. She couldn't safely leave the group for us. With this new relationship they backed off. They went away. Something we had never been able to accomplish.  He was older than we would have allowed in a normal world (20), but we weren't in the normal world. And he had a real job and basically normal life. She would report to us from time to time that she heard something about the Punk or the Soul Destroyer. They fell deeper into the pit. One day we learned the Soul Destroyer had been arrested for armed robbery in another state. The Punk, well he had disappeared. Been gone a long time. No one knew where he was. During those 2 years she continued to grow up and grow more rational.  Maybe too normal, shortly after she turned 18 the peacemaker ended the relationship. We all felt the loss.
  But Then. We had a time of uncertainty. Because of her past there was a real fear of Biggest falling back into the pit. The only people she had to go back to were her old friends. For a little while things were shaky. Then we noticed someone was dropping her off at the end of the road and never coming up to the house. Alarms went off! We confronted. We demanded. She said, "it's Ok. I promise." Not good enough. Who?
  The Punk.
  No Way. You have got to be kidding me. If he comes in my yard I will shoot him! Well, yes he knows that which is why he is dropping her off down the road. Then we hear a story about how he left town to work for his uncle and got straightened out and has his life together. About how they ran into each other at someones house and found out neither of them really wanted to be around these people anymore but didn't really know a lot of other people who weren't from the past. So they had been hanging around each other instead. And it was really Ok!
"I've heard that song before. You are 18. The 1st time you come in my house wasted you are out on your rear. Do not bring him anywhere near my home."
" But you don't understand. "
"Damn straight I don't."
 
  A few days later an audience is requested. No joke. I want nothing to do with it. My husband walks outside to speak to The Punk, who I notice doesn't have a Mohawk anymore. He's wearing jeans and a tee shirt and sneakers. They had a guy talk. They came to an understanding. My husband said we had to give him a chance. Yeah right! Over my dead body. He could be nice but don't expect me to.

That was almost 5 years ago.

So does anyone have a good suggestion for a blog name for my son in law because The Punk doesn't quite seem to fit?

Nowadays he is more like Decent Guy who works hard at a good trade and likes to go fishing.

When she is angry and ranting and raving about something we like to tease him and say we are glad he came back to take responsibility for what he created.

Well.....he did.



© 2010 All Rights Reserved

The Letter

Lets start at the ending, A might as well place to start.....

  When Biggest reached adulthood she wrote us a letter. We had told her that if we made mistakes that contributed to her problems as a teenager we were sorry, we had always done what we thought was best for her. This was her response. It is our single most precious possesion. Besides the girls themselves of course.  It was the most emotional moment I had experienced since the night a couple years before when the news began with "It is 10:00 PM, do you know where your children are and who they are with?" And I burst into tears because the answer was Yes.

Following are excerpts from the letter, Don't mind the Ya'll, it was a stage.

"I know I've pulled a lot of stunts and I'm sure I'll have more, but thanx for always being there, and I'm sorry for those stunts. I know I put Ya'll through a lot"

"I know you think you did some things wrong when I was growing up and I guess you felt you had a little to do with my problems-but you didn't, nothing is your fault.

If I aplogize for everything it will take a book so I hope you know all the things I did I'm sorry for and thankful that Ya'll still talk to me, and most of all I love you very much.

"P.S.  Mom I broke your nice red pen writing this, for that I am sorry.... I hid it in the couch.(Happy face drawing)" ( Who does this kid take after : )? )

We were young parents but unlike you might suspect, parents who were not responsible enough, we were over responsible. We were crazed "create a perfect environment for our child" parents. Maybe we should have just relaxed and had a few beers.

In retrospect this is our opinion of things we might have handled differently.

What we did wrong:

1.Overprotecting. I don't mean mean not letting her play with others or participate in sports. We sheltered her a great deal when she was little. We were determined to not let modern culture spoil our childs innocence but it caused her to be out of loop in social situations. As an already critically shy child it singled her out and gave other kids ammunition for teasing. In a less shy and  more socially confident child it may not have been as big a deal. I still believe in careful monitoring but relaxed my somewhat over the top standards with the other girls, staying involved and drawing lines and discussing things I find inappropriate. 
  Also really paranoid worry. We did not let her go on out of town field trips with school ( These were school rewards for honor roll and serving as a patrol.) and would not consider letting her go to the Arts magnet schools our other daughters later attended because it would involve a long bus ride into the city. Yeah, that bad. 3 of her best friends from elementary school attended them and excelled. This is almost unforgivable. She not only was separated from good friends with a common interest, she was/is a terrific writer. We were idiots.

That didn't work.

2. Panic:  During middle school she did continue to excel but began to have more social problems with the group she belonged to. We were still more strict than most of her friends parents. I will tell specifics of what happened with her in another post but when we first saw signs of real rebellion the 1st year of high school we panicked. This behavior change was so uncharacteristic and extreme and the change so sudden. (Within a period of 3 months) we cracked down hard, all at once. Tightened up more. But, she had learned the game of "Oh, you think that's bad, watch this". So..

That didn't work.

3. Yanking her out of school and sending her to her Grandparents for a couple months, and setting up to homeschool for the next two years to get her away from her new friends worked temporarily. But while it is not illegal for your child to disobey you, walk out or outright run away, It is illegal to imprison them in your home so ultimately......Yeah,

That didn't work.

4. Using bribery to get her to counseling and try to find out what was wrong. That worked long enough for her to play some games, practice manipulation skills and tell them she was fine and explain she didn't believe in using drugs (legal ones anyway) to alter her emotions, and a lot of other bull until she got what she wanted. So really,

That didn't work.

There are many things we did over the years to try to fix the problem. Ultimately, in this case it was a situation that could only fix itself, in time, when she was ready to remember who she was and relax her own standards for herself that she could not live up to, and to use the self confidence she had gained by false means, in a way that was true to her heart and her real nature. She had created an alter ego that was very extreme and fed by substance abuse in order to overcome her fears and find power.  There were several different factors.  Besides the bullying issues she faced  that began the domino effect, in her later teens she was able to identify that she had a real anxiety disorder. Apparently, from what we can tell, her extreme shyness and attachment to me made the normal response of trying to separate from parents and begin to grow on your own turn drastic. She had to violently separate herself from us and all that we stood for.  The friends she made reinforced this behavior. She fell in with a group that new all the tricks to causing chaos in a household.  ( The funny side, if there is such a thing is "that didn't really work" either. She is still a Mama's & Daddies girl, her poor husband!). Another possible factor was that she had been an eerily good child. We seldom had to discipline her and the natural reward of how people treat you for good behavior made her a little spoiled.  When she 1st started having consequences it was almost like she couldn't believe things weren't going her way, she didn't have a correlation and it really made her angry.  And we figured out  that she also suffered from severe PreMenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. This disorder when mixed with alcohol abuse resulted in her behavior becoming extremely violent and she made verbal threats to kill herself and us. This made it  necessary to call in law enforcement for a Baker Act on two occasions. On one of these occasions earlier in the day she actually agreed on me taking her myself rather than call the police. They would not accept her because she said she didn't want to kill herself while she was there. That was a fun weekend. The second time they said she had a .08 alcohol level, that was probably all it was, she needed rehab. They ignored our pleas that she was behaving abnormally while sober too. Rehab only works if you want to be there. She didn't. When I later discussed it with her she saw the correlation between the drinking while having a bad menstrual cycle herself and we all learned to recognize the signs when she was feeling out of control and leaning toward a binge.
In her own words: "I drank because I could talk to people when I was drunk, I wasn't afraid." She still struggles with perfectionism and anxiety when she can't control a situation. She has learned to recognize it for what it is and is working through that.

  It is really almost surreal when I think of her change from one person into another, and I do mean a person who did not resemble my child in any way, and then back into the first person.
  An illustration of that  happened recently. A few years ago this was a girl who ripped the phone out of the wall when we tried to call 911. Once she was walking to a convenience store late at night and was accosted by a man who tried to push her against the wall. She pulled a knife on him, backed him down and told him she was going to kill him, and he left.
  The same girl was married recently. She needed to change her name on her ID. She doesn't drive but works a block away from the DMV. She insisted that I drive her there. Her new husband had asked her to keep her middle name instead of her maiden name on her ID. She didn't really want to but decided it didn't matter. I don't really get it but my husband did the same thing and so did I, so whatever. Anyway, while we were waiting she told me I had to stand at the counter with her when they called her up. I said, "no I'm not doing that, you're a grownup." We went back and forth about it. She would'nt let it go and I finally agreed. I knew why I didn't want to walk up.  I had cried a little bit at her wedding but it didn't really seem real.  As we approached the counter I had to suck it up.  It felt like this was the moment I was truly giving my daughter away.  She was losing our name. She didn't fully belong to us any more. If walking up there with her seemed weird it was bad enough, but I was praying the clerk wouldn't look at my face and see me welling up.  And then I realized.....why she wanted me... standing there.


© 2010 All Rights Reserved

The Tattooed Daughter

Oh, the things we do when we are young and/or under the influence. My beautiful daughter is getting married. I'm lucky she is not a fancy stuff kind of girl and things will be pretty simple. She is getting married in a long yellow cotton jersey backless dress. It arrived the other day and she was so excited. She rushed over to try it on and was admiring herself in the mirror. "I love it" she said. "It's really pretty!" Then turning to view the back her face fell a little. "At least it would be pretty if it wasn't for the damn tattoo."
Across her back, one on her shoulder, around each ankle. They are fairly simple thin line designs and not as obnoxious as she could have done. But still, when she was born she had the most flawless porcelain skin, it makes me cringe. Though several young people I know have one, and my Dad did too,  they just bother me. It isn't the tattoo in itself but my need for visual symmetry. To me it mars the lovely line of the human body and distracts from the person themselves. She is only 22. I begged her not to get them or at least wait till she was older to see if she still wanted them. Within a couple of years she has a love/ hate relationship with them. But you can't take them off when they're in the way and I can't afford to have them removed. She certainly can't either.

When she was 15 she had long hair, almost to her waist. One day she came home with it dreadlocked.  Her friends did it, not professionals. They didn't cut it first either. I just bit my tongue because we were dealing with more important issues but it really looked awful. She left them in for two years. Things changed a lot in that time period and just before Thanksgiving when she was 17 she came to me. We were having a large family gathering and she wanted to look nice. Could I get them out? Or die trying, you betcha!
I went to the store and bought 2 giant bottles of Infusium. A metal teasing comb, a bag of regular combs and the hardest brush I could find. We started in the morning. She had let the hair grow out about 2 inches or so. I figured  at worst she would end up with a short haircut. I soaked her head,  cut the tips off and began. 10 hours, four broken combs (the metal one was bent) and a paper grocery sack half full of hair later, I was done.
And she had a pretty decent head of shoulder length hair. A little thinner than before and with one, kind of chunky, cut at that back, but her hair has a wave so it wasn't too bad.

I have spent half my life getting this girl off the ground, coaxing her to fly, for all of her rebellious independence she is still gripping some of the strings & may not ever let them go. I can't comb the tattoo's out, no matter how many hours I would toil. But I can find the prettiest shawl on earth, and I am searching. And I can love her and be very proud of the young woman she has become. And I am.....so very very.



© 2009 All Rights Reserved

I Hate You Too Sweetheart

From the age of 14 to 16 my oldest daughter was totally out of control. From then till she was around 18 there was a change. She was still wild but had separated herself from the really bad people she had been around. We began to have a real relationship with her again not an ongoing horror story. During the really bad years I Hate You was as blase as pass the salt compared to other things she said. When things started to improve she still wanted to have her way but get the benefits of being a teenager, and if we didn't go along with her she would get annoyed & out would come.. I Hate You. I would just quietly answer, I know...but I Love You. One evening as she was leaving she was pestering me for something and I had said no. I Hate You popped out. I guess she was gaining maturity and knew my denial was reasonable because as I was preparing to answer.. I know but I love you, I realized there was a slightly different tone to her voice and instantly the words popped out of me....in a very loving voice....I know, I Hate You Too Sweetheart. She grinned from ear to ear, her eyes lit up, and she answered, "Good" I'm leaving now.  This became a regular exchange of endearment with her. When she was being difficult but knew it she would use it, and even her boyfriend and her childhood friend  caught on. But the feeling I had the first time stayed with me. The child who wouldn't say I Love You had found a way. And to this day our mutual "hate" has stayed strong.