But..but..surely they hang on my every word.

Did you know I am an ignorant and inexperienced parent who does not realize that my techniques are doing the opposite of what I wish to accomplish?


ha... haha...hahaha Hahahahahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahaha!

SNORT!

I'm not even going to explain this. Just laugh along with me.




Sometimes I do lose track of who I am.

I am Mom of the Perpetually Grounded.

bring.it.on.dude.

I've chewed up, spit out and chased off scarier than you while filing my nails.

Though some people, who obviously know nothing about me, may think otherwise, in my 26 years as a parent, which I believe is longer than this person has been alive, I have learned you can only try to prevent gullible dumbass and point out that it is being manipulated but you certainly can't stop it when it is a legal adult. However you can control your own environment.

All it takes is two little words. And around here if you are past 18 those words Are Not
'You're Grounded'.



© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Shop Till You Drop..Down Dead Of Humiliation.

It is time to go school shopping again. When you have daughters. When you hoped for daughters. When you are thrilled and thankful that you were given daughters. You have fantasies. At least I did. You look forward to them becoming teens. Teaching them to use make-up. You visualize fun shopping trips together and going out for lunch. Having nice chats about their lives. And do you know what? All of those things happen.

And when you're the Mom of the Perpetually Grounded. Sometimes more.

  When you pull up at the store everyone is excited and they laugh because they are matching, wearing the really funky big yellow sunglasses they both bought . Or one of them does and the other one gets ticked off and says, "no I was wearing mine first, take them off." And then they argue about it in an obvious way all the way in to the store and in to the restroom where they get distracted by the fact that only one of them has a brush and won't let the other use it until she gives her a hug which results in a mock slap fight which is when you say act your age and the youngest holds up 4 fingers and says, "I'm this many." They then emerge from the restroom with their arms around each other and skip into the store. Ahead of you. While you follow a little behind and smile because you don't really know them but think they are kind of cute.

  They pick stuff out and go in the dressing room and they show off their outfits and they look adorable and you smile and tell them so. They come out wearing something a color blind hooker with delusions of actual dress size would choose and you frown (or if you're me laugh) and shake your head no and they roll their eyes and say "why-not?" They beg a little bit and then finally give up when their sister tells them they look like a freak and they have no taste. Or they tell their sister "shut up, I hate you, you suck" and then they give up. Sometimes the middle one will pick out a dress she really loves and it looks nice but kind of "different" on her. You tell her it is a nice dress ...but kind of different. She says she knows, that's why she likes it. When the youngest (the one who was born with no tact) sees it she says, "No. Do not buy that dress. Just don't. It's awful. Mom, tell her, don't let her buy it. Think, she tells her sister, what would Stacy and Clinton say about that dress, they would shame you!" And then the middle one tears up and has a tantrum in the middle of the store, flinging the clothes around, announcing, "I freakin hate her, she's a jerk, you both hate it, fine I just won't get the dress." And you have to take her out in the aisle for a whispered lecture about her mouth and acting her age and then console her and tell her the dress is fine. Because it is. It's just...different. The youngest ( one who was born with no tact) then follows this up with a loud proclamation in the tightly enclosed changing room hall that a skirt she tried on looked "gay". (she didn't mean cheerful) Disregarding the fact that she not only has good friends but a beloved family member who are Gay and that I pointed out to her before that using this as derogatory slang might hurt someones feelings. "But no", she says,  "I mean it looks gay", in a special tone meant to explain to me that she meant "gay" in the "I don't like it sense", not the "people who are fine with me" sense. So yeah, Dense and Tactless. So I resort to "just don't talk anymore today, please."

  You tell them to head to the underwear section while you grab notebook paper and when you return they are all aflutter because they found cute undies with elephants and peacocks on them. The hold them up and then the youngest says "look, peacocks" and then puts them over your head and at that moment you hear "Hi there" and turn around and it's your neighbor. Luckily the one who has lived next to you a long time and is still willing to speak with you and acknowledge you in public. You make yourself feel better by forgetting she is the neighbor who will talk to anyone, about anything.... forever but she is very sweet so you really don't mind when she stands there for 15 minutes discussing her dogs sensitive stomach and that she ate grass this morning but never did throw up. (the dog that is). You finally get away and somehow have arranged for a play session for the dogs even though you missed that part and don't realize it till she shows up at your house that evening. It may have been while you were distracted by the girls dancing past you wearing polka dotted rain boots with the elastic still holding them together. You let them get the cute underwear even though they are more expensive and are so glad you did when the next day during the middle ones birthday dinner, which includes their dad, your son-in-law and her boyfriend, the youngest tells the middle one to watch how she's sitting in her skirt and the middle one announces "I don't care if you saw them, they are awesome, they have Elephants" and the youngest answers "well I have Peacocks" and then the oldest who didn't even go shopping with you chimes in with, "Oh yeah, well I have Seahorses". And then smiles like she won a contest.

  But anyway. Let's return to the store where in typical fashion the middle one finds everything she likes within a half hour. She knows what she likes when she sees it, grabs it up and is good to go. Which may be why she came home with red pants, a yellow and purple floral print skirt, a gray and white plaid dress with ruffles down the front and neon green Converse. The youngest one tries on 50 things and picks out 3. They will be great looking outfits put together with excellent style. 2 of them will be worn once and never seen again. The other will be seen once a week and the rest of the time she will appear in jeans and tank tops.
  The middle one is becoming bored and antsy...and a little frisky. She starts riding the shopping cart when I'm not looking, rotated with complaining about how long it takes her sister to find things, telling me she is horrible and she hates shopping with her. The youngest finally makes her small selection informing me that we will obviously have to go to another store because this one has "nothing". We are walking towards the front. I am momentarily distracted by a cute blouse. I hear the words, playfully uttered, I'm going to run you over and turn to see the middle one revving up the cart behind her sister to a good clip just as the youngest stops beside me. And yep. That's when it happens. And the youngest for the Second time in public, that I know of, the first time being in 8th grade math class.  LoudlyYells Out.....
you got it.....the F Word .
when her sister rams the cart into the back of her ankle. The middle one quietly says, "I was joking, I wasn't really going to hit you, why did you stop?"
As for me and the circle of elderly people who just happen to be surrounding us, we are aghast. And none of us can escape because they are blocking the aisle. The angry looking gentleman behind the middle one can't get past and the gray haired lady with very red lipstick looks like she would know how to handle this if it were her kid and at that moment I would be happy to oblige her with a new child. Everyone is frozen in place by my kids and it's like a slow mo movie moment. The youngest finally looks up from holding her ankle and nonchalantly scoots off to the side so everyone can get their highly offended selves out of there.

I am a study in the other F word; Flabbergasted. You would imagine after dealing with my oldest, who once went through a period where she refused to wears shoes or wash her clothes and told people to F off if she thought they looked at her funny, I would be immune to this. But no. I am not. All that I can get out of my mouth is "Excuse Me?"

  Obviously it is time to go and to top off our trip I am so busy with the under the breath lecture in the checkout line ( in which the one with no tact actually tried to defend herself with the reasoning, "but it really hurt bad" ) that I don't notice it's my turn until the cashier has to call out ma'am several times before I realize he means me. Which the long line of people really appreciated. Even better when the middle one blocked the aisle with the cart again and someone had to say excuse me, ( very snottily I might add, the rudeness of some people, geez ; ) to get past. Oh yes, we were a big hit!
 And the youngest actually had the guts to ask, "where are we going next?" when we hit the parking lot.
That would be home.
 Forever. Because I'm Never leaving the house again.
Or at least not with them.
Until tomorrow.
Because the youngest one didn't buy anything to wear back to school but two tops......
 and some Peacock underwear.


© 2010 All Rights Reserved

THIS IS A G RATED BLOG- MOVE ON!

EDITED! I changed the name of this post to get rid of creepers. It may still come up in creeper searches but hopefully they will MOVE ON! This IS NOT what you are looking for.

  Last weekend we went bra shopping. Something I don't look forward to with the girls. They never make it easy.  We headed straight to the juniors section. It was easy to spot with the multi-colored hyperactive selection of patterns.  Littlest did a look over of one display and moved on to the next where another teen was happily picking through the colorful collection of stripes, polka dots and plaid, holding one up for her Mom and remarking, "This one is cute."  Littlest stationed herself directly next to this young lady. She perused the display with a slump postured, world weary air and loudly announced.

"These make me want to vomit.......blood."

The mother and daughter did the usual reaction to Littlest and froze momentarily, blinked twice and the girl set the bra she was holding down and kind of looked around like she was confused about where she was. That was when I wandered off to pretend I didn't know her.
Middlest was seriously thinking of comfort and cute at the same time. She picked several different styles but in the end walked up to me holding three black bra's with some accents that I can only describe as stripperish. "What's up with that I asked," don't you want some colors or at least one basic white?"

   I don't like the basic ones they're ugly.

I'm thinking, this should not be an issue for you.

   All the colorful ones weren't comfortable and they didn't fit right.

"These look like hooker bras," I tell her.
   So... no one's going to see them, she answers.

I'm thinking...no one better be seeing them. She doesn't have gym so I decide I just don't care.
I head back to Littlest who is trying to sneak push up bras past me.

    The junior section is full of aided underwear. Why do teens need push up bras? Answer: They don't.  I really have a problem with the things that are marketed to young women. It  makes me angry that the choices are so limited for young girls who want something cute or pretty but are offered tasteless and trashy. But that doesn't stop the store from stocking them to prey on tired, stressed out mothers. And because the choices are limited, I might be the Queen of Falling Standards but my kids are just wearing me out and I'm starting to not care what they are wearing inside as long as they look decent outside.

   Littlest comes out of the dressing room saying, "these work" Two are cute blue ones with a pattern. I ask if she's sure she doesn't want more variety.
No, she hated all of them.
But your striped one has bright colors and it's your favorite.
No, those colors are obnoxious but I like this one.
She holds up the 3rd bra she tried on. It is light blue satin with brown lace. It did not come from the junior department. I check out the cup. It's a cliff in there.
You don't need that.
But it was really comfortable.
So, that is serious push up, you don't need it.
Please......do you want me to try it on again so you can see.....
She knows this is a point because I am wearing out and she is the slowest person on earth in a changing room .
You know what I think, I tell her, how bad was it?
   Oh not bad at all....you couldn't even tell."
 If I get that and then I see cleavage,  it goes, you are in trouble and you are short a bra.
   Why can't I have cleavage?
You aren't old enough for cleavage.
   That's not fair, Middlest has cleavage.
She can't stop her cleavage, it just happens.
   When can I have cleavage?
In two years,....  for now you only wear that with shirts that are cut high.
   "Ok". Happy Face, "I promise."

We moved on to clothes because Middlest needed jeans and Littlest worked me for a dress that looked like something from the Mary Tyler Moore show. For someone who can make shopping a miserable experience, Littlest has great style. I finally bought it just because I was so impressed with her fashion sense. . 
As we took our turn in line at the busy check out counter Middlest held up the striped black/gray skinny jeans she picked out and showed them to her sister,

 look, I got Emo kid pants....but I love them.

 Littlest eyed the counter and remarked,

what's up with all the black bras, are your boobs going Emo too?

Yeah, couldn't escape from that one, I had to pay for the stuff.

When we got home Middlest happily took her things to her room and my husband asked, "did they get everything they need?" Yep, and then it occurs to me.

I forgot that one of my nicknames for Middlest is the bra bunny. She is one of those people that start to fall apart the minute they walk in the door. You can tell where she has been by following the trail of books, paper, socks, shoes, jackets, and yes.....bras. She inherited the compulsion to take off her bra & get more comfortable through genetics from my Mom. Except my Mom usually would do it on the couch at the end of the day. Middlest does it wherever she happens to be. I have found them hid in the office, on the stairs, on the couch, behind the couch, the dining room and even the kitchen. I once opened the pantry door & found one on the shelf,  No Joke!
 I occasionally hang them from the ceiling fan or light fixtures just to get her attention and hope she will stop leaving them around. Even threats that one of her friends or boyfriend might come over and stumble upon one has no effect. She is my child that took all her clothes off at any opportunity when she was little, so I guess she is the one that is happiest when her spirit..... and boobs, are free.

However, I had forgotten about this when she said it didn't matter because no one would see them. TheSurfer will flee the room if he even senses someone is going to talk about boobs. Sometimes Littlest does it on purpose just to see him run.  I don't know how I'm going to explain it when he goes to sit on the couch  and it looks like an Emo Stripper has been hanging out at our house.

   Oh well, at least I've gotten that out of the way for awhile and the girls are happy. Things are pretty rushed and hectic around here before school but this morning I fleetingly noticed Littlest looked very pretty. She is getting more grown up every day and sometimes it hits me with surprise that she is going to be 15 this year. Every time I look at her it seems something has changed. This morning as she jumped out of the car and reached back for her bag I realized what it was.

The Cleavage.

.



© 2010 All Rights Reserved

Who's Raising You?

The other day I took my 14 year old to the doctor for a check-up. The nurse handed her the paper gown and left for her to change. My youngest sighed, gave me the I hate this and them and you look, pulled off her shirt, flung it across the room into my lap ,waited her perfect timing moment and announced  "What....no one's  throwing dollar bills ?"
I have to admit the kid cracks me up but what on earth happened to all my careful censoring over the years. Everything on my TV over PG 13 is still blocked. As my darlings tell me," we learned it at school you might as well give up". Well I won't do that but I guess I will have to unblock comedy central some day so that I can watch my child perform.

I can hardly wait!

She Said What!

Three times I have been secretly tickled at my kids for being awful!

My daughters tend to be very quiet, especially away from home. The following are 3 of my favorite examples of moments they snapped. And also surprised me into not knowing what to think, or do, except laugh to myself.