Come closer, so that I can share a great secret of the universe. I just figured it out, because I'm brilliant, and so naturally the next logical step is to share it with all of my closest friends on the Internet. Here it is: Teenagers are a lot easier to deal with when you realize they are just overgrown toddlers. (I KNOW. I was super impressed with me, too.) Over at Alpha Mom, I'm expounding on this great revelation, because my teens may be LOOKING more like adults, but their behavior is giving me deja vu.
I think I have discussed here before a certain... shall we say... philosophy difference in parenting between myself and my children's father. Said difference manifests in a hundred different ways, but one of the most frustrating for me has been---and mind you, we've been divorced for ELEVEN FREAKING YEARS---this pervasive feeling that, as the custodial parent, I do most of the "hard" stuff and he gets to do the "fun" stuff. This is not a problem unique to us, of course. But as someone who really enjoys giving gifts to people I love, it has been a small but sharp point of contention all this...
Being an adult is complicated, man. While I appreciate that I don't have to ask anyone if I feel like having ice cream for dinner (this IS the marvelous future I imagined!), there are other aspects of adulthood I don't relish quite so much. Like, the older I become, the more I realize I'm responsible for my own behavior, regardless of how anyone else has behaved towards me. In a word: BUMMER. Teaching these lessons to my kids feels a bit Sisyphean. Today I'm over at Alpha Mom, talking about what respect really means, and how much it's not about the other person. It turns out that sometimes...
Scintillating life development this week: I went to make myself a haircut appointment---as the weather warms up, my hair has begun to expand accordingly---and discovered that my last cut was... last April. Granted, I've been growing my hair out more or less ever since I stopped dying it and cut it all off a couple of years ago, but still. The fact that I went almost an entire year without so much as a trim is an excellent metaphor for the year in general. Don't worry, I'm getting it cut on Thursday. For my next trick, I may even remember to have my teeth cleaned. Anyway. While I'm busy...
Chickadee managed to catch All The Germs during the Icepocalypse week off of school, which is doubly impressive when you consider that we were trapped in the house all that time. (Where did the germs come from? Had she been saving them up? DID SHE EAT INFECTED SNOW???) I ignored her misery for several days before caving and taking her to the doctor, at which point my just desserts were "Yeah, that looks pretty nasty, let's get some antibiotics on board" and the subsequent and immediate coming down with the crud, myself. HOORAY. This is where I would normally tell you that in my next life I...
... I'm over at Alpha Mom, realizing that Duncan is teaching me a lot about what Chickadee needs. [In case you don't live in the south or haven't seen the news, we are about to be slammed with an ice storm "of historical proportions." This is alarming, of course, but also comes with a side helping of my-parents-were-supposed-to-visit-but-ICE-STORM and a dessert of our local production of The Vagina Monologues was supposed to open tomorrow night and now we are delayed at the very least, if not canceled. In other words, I'm cranky, and after a morning of storm prep (firewood! batteries! charge...
Monkey's been back at public school for a month, and Otto and I still whisper and knock on wood when we dare to speak aloud about how great everything is going. Rational or not, we are still afraid to jinx it. Of course, today I decided that that was just plain silly, and I went over to Alpha Mom and wrote all about how my baby is finding his awesomeness, which OF COURSE meant that I then got a phone call from school that MAH BAYBEE had become collateral damage in a hallway brawl. (Yep, I jinxed it.) But he's okay. Better than okay, really. I hope you'll come read about why, because I think...
Otto and I don't get out enough as a couple. This is a subjective assessment, of course; what is "enough," really? Whatever it is, we aren't there. This is because we have jobs and other commitments and needy teenagers and a fairly comfortable couch and also because my natural inclination is to be a hermit. Otto, however, as both the extrovert and better wife in this relationship, periodically insists that we leave the house together, just the two of us. (And apparently when we go grocery shopping together, that doesn't count. Sheesh.) Last night we went to the sort of artsy-fartsy thing...
I'm sure it comes as a tremendous shock when I tell you that Hey, it's cold outside. It's not as though 1) it's cold absolutely everywhere, and 2) the news is all OMG HIDE YOUR CHILDREN IT'S THE COLDPOCALYPSE!!1!!! So yes, it's cold out. (In other news: Water is wet. Amazing!) It's so cold out, we didn't have school today. Today at Alpha Mom, I'm telling you why this is all my fault. And I'm only sort of sorry.
