Remember the old saying about how a kid’s parents get dumber and dumber until the kid is an adult and then—magically—the parents start getting smart again? We’re going through that right now, and I always thought it meant that hahaha, the kids would think I was dumb when really I wasn’t, BUT NO, I’ve come to believe that I am truly losing brain cells as they get older. My poor kids, and their dumb ol’ mom who can barely function anymore.
For a while there, Monkey was very fond of declaring, “It’s okay, I’m a doctor!” in response to any sort of doubting of his ability. This morphed into, “It’s okay, I’m a DOG-tor!” (usually while holding a dog, natch), and now it seems like everyone in the family uses it as an all-purpose response. Well. The other day I tried to say “It’s okay, I’m a DOG-tor!” and it came out more like, “It’s okay, I’m a dog door!” and now Chickadee is fond of saying, “It’s okay, Monkey, Mom is a dog door.” I have no idea what any of that means, but there you have it. How dumb am I? I am SO DUMB, I am now a dog door. (May I show you to the run? It’s lovely out there.)
In the meantime, my children only increase in their ingenuity. About a week ago I discovered Chickadee’s watch left on my desk after the kids headed to school, so I sent her a picture of it with the caption, “OH NO!” She replied with this image, and the caption “IT’S OKAY, I GOT THIS.” Because of course.
All of this is a long preface to two things. The first thing is that driver training continues apace even though I am really dumb, and you should go read about it over on Alpha Mom if you are so inclined. The second thing is that we’re thinking of launching an advice column over on Alpha Mom sort of like Amalah’s Advice Smackdown, but for questions specifically about older kids and teens/young adults instead of little kid stuff. Would you read that? Would you ask stuff? Would you ask stuff and read it even if I—clueless and confused much of the time—was the one writing it? Any and all feedback welcome, and if you’d rather just send in a question because you think it’s such a great idea, hit me up at alphamomteens@gmail.com. (Have I mentioned lately that you’re my favorite? You totally are.)
I would totally read your advice column. My kids are more amalah’s age, but they’re growing…way too quickly. And I love hearing what challenges other people are facing and their solutions especially about parenting.
I would read that *because* you were writing it, and my kids aren’t anywhere near teenager-hood, being 5 and 2, respectively. I’m hearing that they grow up eventually.
After years of following you I find myself on the brink of an Aspie Dx for my son and re-reading much of what you have posted about your kids as guidance and reassurance. I would absolutely read and ask questions.
Typical teens are weird. Aspie/ADD/Gifted kids? Whole other kettle of fish.
I adjust my wing mirrors to eliminate the blind spots. It took some getting used to, but I’ll never go back.
http://pages.cs.wisc.edu/~gdguo/driving/BlindSpot.htm
I’ve been doing this for years and always thought I was the crazy one for adjusting my mirrors that way. It used to drive my husband crazy. But as a result, I seldom check my blind spot and get surprised because I see it in the mirror first. Thanks for confirming my method!
YES! Yes, I would.
I would read!
Well, since I already think of this as my pre/teen advice column, yes. Sounds like a plan.
Your kids are hilarious! I doubt if I’d read the advice column since both of my kids are probably older than you. However, if you have any words of wisdom for them, I’d read that.
My kid’s not there yet, even if she acts like it, so I’d read (just because of your mad writing skilz) but not be too likely to ask anything.
I’d read your advice column even though I don’t have teens. In fact I don’t think I’m the intended demographic for any of your writing! :D But I still read anything you write because you’re just that damn cool.
I would read it and comment on it because I’ve been there. Been there, and I still live! And think! And blog! Anyway, go for it.
yeah i would read it!!!
Yup, I’d read an your tween/teen advice column. Heck, I still read Amy’s (’cause she’s the shiz), and my kid aged out of her demographic years ago.
Yes! We totally need The Wisdom of Mir to answer our older-kid and teen questions! Super-cool. :)
I would ready that!!! My kids are 9 and 13. I need your pretty advice AND Amy’s, too!
I have an adorable but nutty 12-year-old, and one that will eventually get there, so yes. Also, it seems Vicki Iovine never published the Girlfriends’ Guide to Teenagers, so what else is there to go by?
Absolutely I would read your advice column! My kiddo is a smidge younger than Monkey, so I would find teen advice most helpful. And while my son is neurotypical, I find your parent-of-teen driving advice (as I usually find your advice) both wise and hilarious, and often applicable either to my kiddo or to other kids in my life.
Yes! In fact, just the other day I was thinking “I should ask Mir….” I can’t remember the question now, of course. But! I’m sure I will have more. We just cracked the teen years today (sniffle)
Oh! Another thought! You should get WWMD bracelets made! “What Would Mir Do?” I’d totally buy one.
When I was 16, my mother announced (loudly) in a Target that she was NOT a nymphomaniac. She meant kleptomaniac. We never went to that Target again…
Just so you know, dog door isn’t the worst thing you could be. 17 years later and I still look at her and ask if she’s a nymphomaniac yet.
YOU WIN!
Does it make any difference that the whole reason she announced that was because when we walked through the doors to leave, the alarms sounded and I said to her (also loudly), “What did you take?!?”
I am my mother’s child. It’s a miracle that I made it to adulthood.
When I was in high school a funny thing happened at dinner and it’s been something like 30 years and my brother and I still tease our mom about it.
We were having hamburgers for dinner and dinner was nearly over – most of us were done eating, my mom had 1/4 of her burger left, if that. She looked at the plate that my dad had placed the cooked burgers on and saw that there was still a patty left and started exclaiming that one of us hadn’t eaten the number of burgers that we’d requested. We all protested and said that we had. She stared at it, perplexed, for a moment and then got the funniest look on face. She opened her burger (that she was nearly finished eating, mind you) and discovered that she’d forgotten to put the patty on it. She’d been eating a lettuce, tomato, pickle, condiment and butter bun and didn’t notice that the meat was missing!