Pressed or Pressured

Posted 10/21/2009 9:49 AM EDT on pnj.com Prod

"This is ourselves
Under pressure" - Queen



When I was a younger parent, I often compared myself and my ability to that of other parents. It seemed as though other mothers could do what I did, and then some, and do it all ten times better.


When I felt happy that I'd been able to find matching socks for one of the four, another mother would show up with six kids in matching, IRONED outfits. While one friend's child was involved in four sports, two kinds of music lessons and on the honor roll, we had a hard time just getting through homework. I'd be over in the corner threatening to beat my child with my flip-flop while some kid sat quietly knitting doilies under his mother's doting gaze.


Yes, I used to feel inferior to these "Perfect Parents." But now that I've grown older and wiser, I think I just feel sorry for them.


You see, when you're "Perfect" to begin with, then there is no room for error. A mom like me can show up at a kid's band concert in mis-matched shoes or realize that she's forgotten her checkbook in the car after scanning two hundred dollars-worth of groceries with a screaming baby on her hip and no one gives it a second thought. For a guy like me, there is no pressure of expectation. Things can only get better.


Occasionally, I'll run into one of my "perfect" friends and catch up. "How are the kids?" I'll ask, then nod politely when I hear that they're attending an Ivy-league school in the Fall on a full scholarship for being the "best-pressed." And while you can't help but be impressed you know that the first wrinkle they encounter could be their undoing, which is really depressing.


And my kids?


Well, they're all happy and healthy, a little wrinkled, but under no pressure. And the imprints from the flip-flop have faded nicely.


Have fun!

Won't You Be My Neighbor

Posted 10/20/2009 9:11 AM EDT on pnj.com Prod

"Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The Courage to change the things I can,
And the Wisdom to know the difference!"



This little gem serves as my mantra. I am still stubborn enough that I want to change everything, occasionally scared to tackle certain issues, and not always smart enough to know when I get in over my head. . .but I'm learning.


For years, I have fretted over traffic issues in my neighborhood. We are blessed with a variety of lovely parks, wide avenues, nice schools - but we are also a cut-through between major arteries and that has contributed to a dangerous situation for children and pedestrians.


I've tried writing letters to the Editor of the PNJ. I've put signs in my yard. I've stood outside and waved at people to slow down. Nothing seems to have helped. I've watched the situation deteriorate over the twelve years I've lived here to the point where even the flashing lights of the school zone and the presence of kids walking to school or riding bikes to the park are not enough to inspire some drivers to decrease their speed through the neighborhood.


My latest "rant" involved writing a letter to the Mayor and members of the City Council. Mayor Wiggins and Councilwoman Pratt encouraged me to contact the city's Community Development Department and tonight, we're holding an organizational meeting to look into forming a Neighborhood Association. This will enable us to secure matching grants that we can use toward making improvements in our neighborhood.

Who knew?? (Well, I guess the Mayor. . .and the City Council. . .)

For more information on establishing your own neighborhood association, contact the City of Pensacola Community Development at 436-5655.



I know that my teens roll their eyes sometimes when they see Mom embarking upon another matter of contention. I've won some and lost some over the years, but I hope I've shown them that sitting around griping about a problem doesn't accomplish anything.


Although, they DO get tired of hearing me gripe about the condition of their bedrooms. . .sometimes enough so that they actually clean them!


Have fun!

Teen Driver Safety Week

Posted 10/19/2009 7:57 AM EDT on pnj.com Prod

Drivers rejoice!


It's National Teen Driver Safety Week. That means teenagers everywhere will have their eyes on the road and their hands upon the wheel. . .cell phones will be stored, radios turned down, passengers kept to a minimum of a single, silent individual. . .


Yeah, right.


With car accidents the leading cause of death among people ages 15-20, parents should think twice before just handing the keys over. Talk with your teens and explain to them that driving is a privelege, not a right. Limit the number of passengers that new drivers can take with them. Insist that they stay off of their cell phones while driving. Remind them that distracted driving practices like eating, applying makeup and texting can have deadly consequences.


And set a good example with your own habits.





With a little luck, and a lot of patience, we may make it through the teen years relatively unscathed. The Mombus, on the other hand, well. . .we just like to say that those "learning to drive" dings give her "Character."


For suggestions on ways you can help keep your teen driver safe, including suggestions for setting rules, check out http://www.ridelikeafriend.com/

You'd Think. . .

I do my best to encourage respect, self-sufficiency and responsibility in my children. I encourage them to seek out role-models in our family and our community, and to learn from them.




I sent the Edge down to deliver a letter to the Escambia County School District's Office of School Choice yesterday. An angry, gum-chewing woman refused to take the letter from her. "You have to have your parent with you."

So, today, I accompanied the Edge down to the same office and stood next to her while she handed the same gum-chewer (the way she was smacking, it may have been yesterday's gum, too!) the same letter. The woman took it from her, stamped it, copied it, and handed it back to her.


While I was there, I had some questions. The lady we needed to see was not in. Nor was anyone else who could help us. "You'll have to come back Monday, " smack, smack, smack.


"What would be a good time on Monday?" I asked. "Can I make an appointment? I don't want to miss them all again."


"Well, " smack, smack, "they're here EVERY day from 7:30 until 4:30. . ." she said, as though my question irritated her.


I looked at my watch. 11:30. Smack, smack.




"She was even ruder to me yesterday, " the Edge commented once we were back in the car. "People think that they can just be as rude as they want to teenagers and no one is going to do anything."


"Yep, life's not fair. As long as you keep doing the right thing, though, that's all that matters."


"But you would think that the people who work for the school system, where they deal with kids, would show a little respect!"


"Yeah," I relplied, "You'd think. . ."



The conversation continued and drifted into the subject of texting while driving. She was telling me that her friend thinks because she has her keypad "memorized" that she is safe to text and drive.

"Which probably explains the inordinate number of 'dings' on her car!"

About that time, we looked over at the sheriff's deputy in the car next to us at the stoplight. "OMG!" the Edge exclaimed, "MOM! She's TEXTING!"

The light changed, and the deputy pulled ahead a little, still texting. She continued along Davis Highway driving thirty miles an hour and swerving from one side of the lane to the other - driving with her elbows while concentrating on her flying thumbs.




Yes, it's a difficult thing to teach your children about the importance of self-sufficiency, respect and responsibility. We parents have to set the example for them - those "role-models" are becoming harder to find.


Have fun!

Liberal Parenting

I have a friend who likes to use the expression in her blog, "Don't judge me, learn from me." ( http://momspeacebites.blogspot.com/ )


I believe that most parents try to do what they feel is right. Personally, I've had times where I've looked back with my 20/20 hindsight and realized that I made a bad call. Other times I've patted myself on the back when things turned out right.


Today's PNJ article discusses the untimely death of a seventeen year-old who was run over by a police car as he was allegedly attempting to elude the officer. http://www.pnj.com/article/20091015/NEWS01/910150315. Much controversy has been generated by this incident, from protests of "police brutality" to questions as to why the young man didn't just stop for the officer.


One portion of the article really resonated with me. "Cassandra admits that she was liberal with her son. . . She allowed him to stay out late on weekends and to divide his time between home and his friends' and family's homes. It was not unusual for him to be out at 2 a.m., she said."

Without passing judgement on this woman, I believe that there is a lesson here. Many of us have heard our own parents, maybe even our grandparents tell us, "Nothing good happens after midnight." We usually followed that affirmation with the obligatory eye-roll, as my children do today. However, I stand firmly by the call and do not allow my children free reign to wander late at night.

Parents are sometimes under the impression that, when their kids become teens, the job is done. It's my opinion that this is the time to pull them closer, to keep a hand in what they are doing. It doesn't mean that I am with them at all times, but I do want to know where they are, who they are with - and I do expect them to be at home at a time that is reasonable and safe. They call and check-in on a regular basis, whether they are fifteen, seventeen. . .or even twenty-one (although now the fiancée has replaced Mom for much of that, but I still know that someone knows where he is!)

I cannot imagine the pain of losing a child, and my heart goes out to this mother. I hope that we will take the information that she has shared about her choices, process it, and learn from it. It is not up to us to judge the way others choose to parent, but it IS our task to try to make the best choices we can for our own children based on the information we have.

Your Turn

Unfortunately for my readers in blog-land, my kids have been pretty well-behaved lately.


I'm just biding my time as I'm sure that the condition is temporary and subject to swift and devestating change. In the meantime, what are some issues that you're dealing with? What are some situations you'd like to see addressed? There aren't many areas of teen angst that we have not delved into over the last eight years of parenting our little darlings. . .you've heard about my controversies, now I'd like to hear about some of yours.


Erma Bombeck once said, " Somewhere it is written that parents who are critical of other people's children and publicly admit that they can do better are asking for it!" So you'll get no grief from me, to be sure. But perhaps I can offer you some free advice (always worth what you pay for it) that has worked for us, or at least the knowledge that you are not alone in your struggles.


Okay parents of teens, let's hear it. . .

Intervention

It was late, I was flipping the channels and I got sucked in by the show "Intervention."


I guess we all have a fascination with taking a peek into the lives of others (oh, Hello, dear reader!) Sometimes it is nice to see that we are not alone in our daily craziness. Other times, it makes us thank our lucky stars that our biggest problem with our kids is an occasional lapse in judgement rather than a consuming addiction.

It's hard to grasp how parents can get to the point where they allow their child to run the show. I know we all have baggage that we bring to our parenting gig - perhaps guilt over some real or imagined situation that leads us to "go lightly" when it comes to discipline. Maybe a desire to make things "better" for our kids than they were for us. Or perhaps, after awhile, you just get tired of fussing all the time. I've been there/done that on all counts.

I have yet to see a situation, though, where erasing the consequences for a young person has served them well. In last night's show, a young woman was addicted to pain killers and her family was so afraid that she would run off that they would actually take her to prostitue herself in order to get drugs. Her mother didn't want to tell her "No." It was tearing apart their entire family.

The other day I talked about the importance of keeping the lines of communication open with your kids - but that's a two-way street. As much as you need to be there to listen to them, to support them, you also have to step in and put your foot down when you feel that they are endangering themselves or others. And you have to pick and choose which situations you're going to help them with and allow them to suffer the consequences of their actions from time to time.

I thought it was tough to clean up after them all the time when they were little, but the hardest part of being a parent is knowing when to tell them that they have to clean it up themselves.


It's a balancing act, for sure. But I think that learning to dole out your "interventions" early-on, in small ways, can prevent the need for a big dramatic "intervention" down the road.

It's A Gift

I saw a commercial the other day where a cartoon Dad is feeling a little stressed by a screaming baby. Then his teenaged daughter walks in and and introduces her new friend, "Dad, meet 'Snake!'"


I have to be honest, everyone who comes home with one of my children gets the Eyeball. It's a little gift I picked up from my Dad. . .the simple closing of the left eye and harsh stare from the right sends the message: Don't make me hurt you. When it's coupled with a crooked grin it's doubly intimidating (according to my dear husband. . .and my brothers-in-law. . .)


Maybe it's because I realize that each of these "intruders" wields a certain amount of power over MY baby, who heretofore has been guided by MY suggestions and demands.


"Son, you need to shave that scraggly chin. . ."


"But Mom, she thinks it's sexy!"





I often "joke" with the friends who dare to cross the threshold of Chez McKnight. . .threatening their person with severe bodily harm and adding a little chuckle at the end constitutes a "joke," right? But now a few of them are beginning to get wise to my tactics. One brave soul now comes bearing food: chocolate pie and bagels! Others laugh heartily at my jokes, even the stupid ones! I think they're "on" to me.


And now, the Pièce de résistance - Black Jack's fiancée, a dang ALABAMA fan, crocheted me a beautiful purple and gold purse. (Excuse me, does anyone have a tissue??)


What am I supposed to do now?? Like these people??


I guess I'll just have to invite them to spend a good amount of time in my presence, regaling them with entertaining stories of those thrilling days of yesteryear, when I was the center of my childrens' world.


My kids love it when it do that. . .those fond memories are my little gift to them.


Have fun!

This is Our Time to Dance

"Ecclesiastes assures us... that there is a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to laugh... and a time to weep. A time to mourn... and there is a time to dance. And there was a time for this law, but not anymore. See, this is our time to dance. It is our way of celebrating life. It's the way it was in the beginning. It's the way it's always been. It's the way it should be now." - Kevin Bacon as Ren McCormack, Footloose





I still get a little verklempt when I envision a young Kevin delivering this line in the movie that taught us all as teenagers that real Heroes don't play Tractor Chicken. Sigh. . .



Tonight, Halfway Between (10 & 20) will attend his first high school dance.


He's had lots of practice over the years. From the time he was two-feet tall he was wowing crowds at the Scenic Hills Country Club's Annual Christmas Party with his rendition of "Play That Funky Music, White Boy!" During this Spring's "Wedding Season," he was a fixture on the dance floor pretending to have no prior knowledge of such "lame" dances as the "Electric Slide" and the "ChaCha." And he can frequently be spotted around Chez McKnight doing his version of the "Stanky Leg."


Although he'd never admit it, I think he's pretty excited. He's going with a nice young lady that he really likes, he's wearing the dreaded suit (no tuxedo t-shirt tonight!), he asked for a new razor blade AND he cut the grass yesterday without being reminded a dozen times. . .and didn't miss any spots!


I've been through two rounds of dancing teenagers already, but I can't help but feel a little heavy-hearted seeing my second "Last Child" move on into the real-world version of the High School Musical. There's a part of me that wishes that I could keep him with me forever, but I know that this is his time to dance.


I think I'm going to go wake him up early, so that I can show him how to do the "Footloose!" Oooh, maybe I'll get all dolled up and go with him tonight, just to make sure he does it right. After all, I wouldn't want him to be embarrassed. . .

Have fun. . .LET'S DANCE!!!!

Hello?

If you have teenagers, and have not given in to the pressure and bought them their own cell phones, then your home telephone may ring on occasion.


The rule around here is that, if you want a cell phone, you'll need to get a job and pay for it yourself. Otherwise, we have graciously provided a land-line for your convenience. Halfway Between (10 & 20) remains off the hook because he is unemployed, so his friends call the house.


"Is there?" They ask, sometimes clearly. . .


"Yes." I'll answer. Then I'll wait.


'Oh, um, can I speak to him?"


"Well, what's it worth to you?"


"Huh?"


"You've gone to the trouble to call him, so surely it must be worth something to you to talk to him. . .how about five bucks?"


"I don't have five dollars. . ."


"Well, that's too bad. I will take a credit card, do you have a credit card?"


"Um, I'll just call back. . ."


"Oh, hang on, he's right here waving some money at me. . .okay, well, nice talking with you. . .whoever you are!"


I've started working with my seven year-old already. "When I make a call, I say, 'Hello, this is Lara. May I please speak to so-and-so?'"


"Mooom, that sounds stupid!"


"No it doesn't, you are telling them who you are, and asking to speak to the person you want to talk to."


"Why can't I just say, 'Hello, is Mady there?'"


Because, dear, you're liable to get a parent like me, who is a stickler for good manners. . .and that's a scary proposition!


Have fun!

Truth In Advertising

"Hey Mom!" Halfway Between (10 & 20) called me in as he started his schoolwork this morning.


"Whatcha need, buddy?"


"So, yesterday, Jack and I went to Circle K. I was wearing a Mountain Dew shirt and he was wearing a Dr. Pepper shirt. . ."


"Okay. . ."


"So, I bought a Mountain Dew, and he bought a Dr. Pepper."


I gave him the "look."


For a full thirty seconds.


"Isn't that cool?" He asked.


"Well, it IS truth in advertising. . ."



I INTERRUPT THIS BLOG FOR A BREAKING BLOG ALERT UPDATE!!!


He just slid into the living room on his sock feet, sporting a black curly afro.

"See, Mom, you can write about this in your blog." He switched to his narrator voice. "'He entered the room wearing an enormous afro, my favorite son, who plays the guitar like Jimi Hendrix and may be the coolest kid ever. I am just so fortunate to have such an amazing son with such an amazing afro. . .'"

And now, he has retreated to his room to play something groovy to accompany the show.


Somebody help me. . .

Gray Thinking

This weekend, an article appeared in the PNJ that hit home with many of our Moms. The nineteen year-old who gave birth to a stillborn child and then buried him in the woods near her home has generated a good bit of talk at our Momslikeme website.


http://www.pnj.com/article/20091003/NEWS01/910030312


There are some who feel little sympathy for the young woman.

"Sorry but at her age she knew she could have gone to the hospital or done more then sit in the woods and have a baby and then leave it there for the dogs."

"I got pregnant when I was 21, only 2 years older than her... so that's no excuse."


Others use words like "heartbreaking" to describe the plight of the 19 year-old, and offer a more compassionate and empathetic viewpoint.

"We all panic ya know."


While some see "right and wrong" as being in very black and white terms, others view them in a variety of shades of gray. When it comes to opinions, everyone has them, and most people probably believe that theirs is the right one, so arguing the point either way won't make much difference. And, regardless of the opinions of a group of moms on a website, what is done is done.


However you choose to view the actions of a young mother giving birth alone outside of her parents home, I would hope that awareness of this situation would lead each of us to work harder to foster open lines of communication with our children. Teenagers need rules, they need black and white guidelines, but they also need an open door to come to us for guidance when they get into those gray areas.


"They KNOW they can come to me with anything. . ." you may think.


What if they think whatever kerfluffle they've gotten themselves into is too awful to share with their parents? Every teenager has secrets, things that they believe Mom and Dad "wouldn't understand." In the process of growing up and becoming an independent young adult that privacy is sometimes somewhat necessary. But there are also times when a teenager can get in over their head and feel they've nowhere to turn.


That's why I offer my children this out: "I hope that you feel that you can come to me with anything. I will do my best not to judge you, but it is also my job to guide you, so don't expect me to like what you have to tell me. If you ever feel like you are over your head, and can't bring yourself to talk to me about it, remember that you have grandparents, aunts and uncles, adult family friends who love you and will help you. You are never alone."


Lucky me, mine seem to feel free to come to me with all variety of craziness. We've already had to navigate a few hum-dingers around here as it is. . .but so far, we've managed to come through it all okay. It's not easy to let-go of your parental view of the way things "should" be, but it's a lot better to help guide them through an imperfect situation than to beat yourself up later with "if only I had known."


I don't know anything more about the mother of "Baby Milton" than I've read in the News Journal. But I DO know what it feels like to be pregnant at 19, scared, insecure, embarrassed. I was fortunate to have had a great deal of support and love from my family and my extended family. I knew that I had people I could go to who loved me unconditionally and would help me make good choices. I don't know that her family's support could have made any difference in the outcome of this situation, but I hope that I can make a difference when it comes to my own kids and their lives.



After all, the desired end here is NOT to raise a bunch of mini-mes. I'm just hoping to grow them up with enough guilt about all the gray they've given me (gray hairs, that is!) that they set me up nicely. So far, I figure I'm looking at a lovely condo on the beach. . .with my own cabana boy. . .and yes, I'll make room for my own parents, too.


Have fun!

Power Steering

Mom Lecture #457:


"Don't forget, you're responsible for the lives of every passenger in your vehicle. Don't expect other drivers to use courtesy or common sense - you have to remain on the defensive when you drive. Wear your seat-belts, drive the speed limit, stay off the cell phone, and keep the radio turned down. If you get a ticket, I will remove you from my policy and you'll have to locate your own - at about twice what it costs you now. Okay, well, have fun. I love you!"


A little harsh? Perhaps, but (knock on wood) so far, so good. If I make my expectations very clear, then there can never be any question.


This does not mean that accidents don't happen. We've already had one minor bumper-bump in a merge situation, and it wound up costing the Edge about $600 of her hard-earned money. A taught lesson is better than a bought lesson.


When it comes to extending the privilege of driving to your teenager, it's important to stress the weight of the responsibility that comes with it. Every day I see teens racing down my street, cell phones in hand, oblivious to the risk they are creating for themselves and their fellow drivers.


What is sad is that I see adults doing the same thing.


And that brings me to another lecture - to myself. I have to practice what I preach, otherwise, it's just a bunch of blather. So, no matter if I'm running late or need to get that call, I'm making it a point watch my speed and stay off the phone when I drive. It's not always easy, but if I expect it of my teenager, then certainly I can do it myself.


They may think that we're driving them crazy, but we know that we're steering them in the right direction.

Call Your Mother

"I'm just a girl, I'd rather not be
'Cause they won't let me drive late at night!" - No Doubt





The Edge (of 17) has been working late . . .yawn!. . .for the past few days.


So, why am I yawning? Well, I can't very well go to sleep until they're all tucked in safely, so I've been waiting up for her.


"Mom, you don't HAVE to wait for me. I am perfectly capable of making it home. . ." she said as she was leaving yesterday.


"Of course you are, Dear. Call me when you're on the way."


She sounds like I did at that age, before I had the "parental perspective" going on. As a young person, you tend to see reminders to check-in as another way that "THEY" are trying to control you. I knew exactly what Gwen was singing about when she lamented "Take this pink ribbon off my eyes!" It seemed like my parents, grandparents, even my husband saw me as "just a girl in the world. . ."


However, some seventeen or so years later, I completely get the reasoning behind what "they" see. It's not me, it's life.


Cognizance of both sides of the issue can be a curse sometimes and leave a parent confused on making a judgement call. On the one hand, I consider that she is a young, strong woman who is completely capable of kicking butt in this crazy world. On the other, she's pretty and petite and would be viewed by some crazy as an easy target. If I choose to err on the side of caution, does she interpret it as a lack of confidence or a lack of trust?


I was talking to my own Mom about this subject yesterday. She's been on her own for almost two years now, and is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. . .but I still call to check on her. "You know," she said, "Grandma used to call me and tell me she was going up on a ladder to clean her ceiling fan. It's not about 'control,' it's about 'common sense!' I think you're very smart to have her check-in with you."


"Well, we all know where I get it from. . ." I said, and we both laughed.


When it comes to "Because I said so!" I have been there, done that, and yes, I actually DO have a t-shirt. But I also feel that she is smart enough to understand that "checking-in" makes sense. So the next time I encounter the eye roll or allegations of being "all-up" in someone's life, I am prepared with my sensible comeback:


"Well, when I checked in with MY Mommy, she said it was okay!"


Have fun!

Move Along, There's Nothing to See Here

"When all you gotta keep is strong,
Move along, move along. . ." - All American Rejects






The Edge (of 17) gave us hasty smooches before bob-bob-bobbing out the door to work. "Loveyoubye!"


"When did that happen?" Hubbalicious asked.


I knew what he meant as I watched the young woman snatch up her car keys and swing her new hairdo. I've been asking myself that question a lot lately.


"Yep, they're heading up and soon they'll be moving out. . .Rawhide!" I walked over and sat next to him looking for consolation and he gave a gratuitous chuckle. Think what you like, but the true secret to a happy marriage is laughing at each other's jokes, even the stupid ones.


Between Black Jack (21) and his impending generational elevation, the Edge saving her money so that she can move out as soon as she graduates. . . even the heretofore nonchalant Halfway Between (10 & 20) is making plans for his "Sweet 16!" It is beginning to sink in that this "Hey MOM!" gig is a temporary thing.


"Hey MOM!" Halfway called on cue.


"We're out back, baby!"



"I'm heading out. . ." he announced, sticking his head out the door and blowing a few random kisses.


The Hubster put his arm around me and gave me a little squeeze, prompting Halfway to make a face and mutter, "EWWWWW! 'Old People Cuddling!' I'm outta here!"


You know, there are some we will miss less than others. . .


Have fun!

Feed 'Em. . .

"Fish head, fish heads.
Roly-poly fish heads. . .
Fish heads, fish heads,
Eat them up, Yum!" - Dr. Demento

Ah, the good old days. . .when we were young and skinny and could eat our weight in Mr. Gatti's Pizza and Hot Fries. . .

Why is it that a high metabolism is wasted on the young? They load up on Mountain Dew and Food Court offerings, hardly tasting the junk they're swallowing, then expostulate theirinability to squeeze into their Aeropostale size zeroes. . .

In the last year or so, I've lost a good bit of weight. This is not easy for a woman whose life revolves around people who constantly scream "Feed ME!" My first though in the morning (well, after COFFEE. . .and who put that glass in the sink!?) is what to fix for dinner that night. Not that MY tastes or cravings have much to do with it (A block of cheese and a Margarita. . .it's what's for dinner. . .) as I generally have a dime-sized portion of whatever they're having and a frisbee-sized salad.

I must plan a feast that can be smothered in Ranch to appease the ladies and yet meets the exacting freshness criteria of our resident food snob. (Is this fresh rosemary on these potatoes, Mother? Halfway Between and his sensitive palate. . .)

Yes, gone are the days when I could eat as many tacos as my Dad and brother combined while cheering for the 'Aints on a Sunday afternoon. Then later, I'd work it off by dancing around alone in my room and listening to the Dr. Demento show. . .

Boy, was I a nerd or what? Where was I??

Oh, yes, what's for dinner? The nagging question that troubles every mother at six-fifty-five in the a.m. and will continue to beleaguer my brain until about five-fifty-five in the p.m.

Sigh. . .

I wonder if they make a "Fish Head Helper?"

Have fun!

I Speak Teen

"So, Mom. . ." the Edge (of 17) began telling me about her friend's crisis.


"He's talking to his girlfriend on Skype, then he says he'll call her back in a few minutes. Somehow, she left her video on and he sees her scratching at her wrists. . ."


I raised my eyebrows.


"That's what IIIII was thinking, too!" she said.


Her powers of clairvoyance are simply amazing. . .


She took a breath, then continued, "I just don't know whether she's playing a game with him or if she really has a problem. If he tells her parents, then they may go crazy or something. . ."


"Well. . ." I began.


"I know, I know. But if there IS a problem, they probably need to get her some help. He really likes her a lot, and it's really bothering him. I told him he should probably just talk to you, you're the one with the good answers! Thanks, Mom. I love you."


And then she kissed me and went back into her room.


I'm just glad I could be of help. . .

No Pressure

I was in the produce section at Wally World when my cell phone rang.

It was "Home" calling.

"Hey!" I answered.

"Mom, I just wanted to tell you. . .good luck. We're all counting on you." Halfway Between didn't wait for my response before he hung up the phone.

I knew I never should have let him watch "Airplane!" Surely he has something better to do with his time.

Ah, probably not.

And don't call me "Shirley."

Splitting Hairs

What one subject remains a constant source of contention in the McKnight household?


A difference in political views? Varying tastes in music? Less filling versus tastes great?


Oh, no, it is nothing so significant as all that. . .


Nope, we don't argue over money or who does the chores or even whose turn it is to make the coffee.



Instead, we choose to split hairs over - hairs.



Specifically the ones that comprise the glorious mane sprouting atop Halfway Between's head.


"Why can't he just go down to the barber shop with me?" Hubbalicious demands to know. "He's too good for a ten-dollar buzz cut?!"


"But Dad, the chicks dig my flowing locks. . ."


So today, I took him to see my hairdresser in the hopes that we could reach a happy compromise between his rock n' roll do and looking like someone loves him.


When we got home, I called him in to show his Dad. He entered the room with the neck of his shirt pulled over his eyebrows, making a sort of t-shirt habit. "Yes, Mother?"


"Come on, show Dad your hair. . ." I coaxed him.


He lifted his arm, exposing his scraggly pit-hairs. "There you go, Dad. Stylish, isn't it?"


Uhhhhhh. . .I looked over at Hubbalicious in all his clean-cut grandeur. Considering that when we met, he was still sporting his "Flock of Seagulls" look, I'm thinking that the joke will be on hair-do boy in another twenty years anyway.


Hair today, gone tomorrow. . .


Have fun!

They Call it "Love" I Call it "Leverage"

I've learned a little secret to getting my teens to get things done - it's called "having a person of interest."

In the old days, when I needed some leverage, I used to threaten to take away the Playstation, ground them from TV or try to impose some other form of tortuous discomfort. It never seemed to have quite the desired effect.

But once they "like" someone, you know, THAT way. . .threaten to keep them from going to the big party this weekend, or tell them they can't talk to "them" on the phone and watch how quickly the room gets cleaned or the schoolwork is finished!!

It's amazing! If I'd have known this was the answer, I'd have let them start dating when they were six!!

Have fun!