I've been a nail biter all my life. The only time my nails were ever long (naturally) was when I smoked, and then later in life when I had my kids. (note to the surgeon general: I quit smoking, LONG before I ever decided on children)
After my kids, it was back to biting as usual. I'm not just a nail biter either; I bite my nails down to the quick, cuticle and all. If my fingers aren't sore or bleeding, then my work is not done! Yes, it's a nasty habit. Smoking was a worse habit but it was easier to quit than biting my nails. I can't even stop biting when Alan taps my hands out of my mouth and tells me to stop. If there's one hanging; it's coming off baby!!!
So, I recently decided that enough is enough! I had acryllic nails put on. Don't ask me the name of the place because I can't remember. All I know is there's a nail shop on every corner in this town and I went to the one closest to my job. Very nice Vietnamese couple run the place (I know - it could still be any shop in town) and they were very patient as I tried to explain what I wanted. Apparently, not only did I want square-round, acryllic nails, but I also wanted a pedicure and an eyebrow wax. I turned down the latter two, explaining that 1) I didn't have time for a pedicure and 2) I barely have eyebrows as it is.
I'm sorry, but I think it's going to be cheaper and more satisfying to just bite my nails again. My thumb looks hideous and this guy ALSO thought I should wax my eyebrows!!!
It's off to salon #4 and if it's not a good one....then yes...the nails are coming off!!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Summer Colds: a rant
The only thing worse than getting that stuffy nose, headache, sore throat and cough is coming down with it in the heat of summer. There's no desire for hot tea and toast or snuggling deep into your down comforter. A nice, hot steam bath - out of the question. You can get that just walking outside in the Texas heat anyway.
So, this weekend - I was sick. And we had a full schedule of events planned, what with it being summer and the kids being their usual, busy selves. I may have even ran a fever, but who can tell; it was over 100 degrees and I was on a three-day benadryl binge.
I'm pretty sure this crap has settled into my lungs now and I'm in for the long haul with a nasty case of bronchitis and a nice, lengthy sinus infection, complete with watery, crusted eyes and a tight jaw which has the added effect of a comfy toothache.
I love summer.
I know, this whole post could have best been said with a simple "I don't feel too good" - but where's the fun in that?
So, this weekend - I was sick. And we had a full schedule of events planned, what with it being summer and the kids being their usual, busy selves. I may have even ran a fever, but who can tell; it was over 100 degrees and I was on a three-day benadryl binge.
I'm pretty sure this crap has settled into my lungs now and I'm in for the long haul with a nasty case of bronchitis and a nice, lengthy sinus infection, complete with watery, crusted eyes and a tight jaw which has the added effect of a comfy toothache.
I love summer.
I know, this whole post could have best been said with a simple "I don't feel too good" - but where's the fun in that?
Friday, July 18, 2008
Eddie Money Knew What He Was Talking About
Why do all the milestones that our children accomplish also have to serve as a constant reminder that we are getting older? I know it's impossible to make time stand still, and really - who would want to freeze this economy in the state it is in? But I miss so many of the cute things my kids used to do when they were small, so much that sometimes I wish I could go back and do it all over. But as Eddie Money reminded us - I can't go back I know.
So, I must resign myself to the fact that my son is now driving, my daughter doesn't want to hang around me so much anymore and I'm spending twice as much on hair color as I used to. Long gone are the days of "mommy, daddy - look what I can do." They have been replaced with "Do you have to look at me? Quit staring!" and those lovely, extremely exaggerated sighs and groans. When did I become my mother? I guess a bigger question I should ask myself, is when did my children become me and how did I never see it coming?
People always say - "Enjoy your kids now, it goes by so fast." I remember thinking to myself that I couldn't wait until my kids could walk, could talk, etc. How could I know that no sooner does someone speak the words "time with your kids goes by fast" and before you can grasp the meaning of what they have said it's gone.
I think I'm growing sentimental about turning 40 (still have 7 months....it's really going to fly). I hope the next 40 years are as great as the previous. I hope they don't go by as fast and I pray every day that my kids will cherish every moment I spent with them. I know I do.
So, I must resign myself to the fact that my son is now driving, my daughter doesn't want to hang around me so much anymore and I'm spending twice as much on hair color as I used to. Long gone are the days of "mommy, daddy - look what I can do." They have been replaced with "Do you have to look at me? Quit staring!" and those lovely, extremely exaggerated sighs and groans. When did I become my mother? I guess a bigger question I should ask myself, is when did my children become me and how did I never see it coming?
People always say - "Enjoy your kids now, it goes by so fast." I remember thinking to myself that I couldn't wait until my kids could walk, could talk, etc. How could I know that no sooner does someone speak the words "time with your kids goes by fast" and before you can grasp the meaning of what they have said it's gone.
I think I'm growing sentimental about turning 40 (still have 7 months....it's really going to fly). I hope the next 40 years are as great as the previous. I hope they don't go by as fast and I pray every day that my kids will cherish every moment I spent with them. I know I do.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
How to Sex a Cat
And by that, I mean - how to tell if it's a boy or a girl.
Recently, we took our youngest two kittens in to be spayed. Laverne and Shirley; they are so cute and completely inseparable. They are also identical. It was hard enough not to let them have anything to eat after 7:00 p.m. the night before; I didn't really care who was who, as long as they didn't eat.
When the hubster dropped them at the vet, the tech asked him which one was Laverne and which one was Shirley. He said "I don't know - it doesn't really matter...we just pretend to tell them apart."
Of course, the vet was sure this couldn't be so, but upon closer inspection, he and his tech agreed that they were pretty much twins. Or so they thought.
Shirley went first...got her shots, her worming and blood tests and then she went under the knife.
Next was Laverne. All was quite well until the minor surgery, which turned into exploratory surgery, failed to turn up a uterus. Poor Laverne, as it turns out, is actually a VERNE. To tell you the truth, I wasn't upset at all about the poor guy having two sets of stitches (which the vet most humbly did not charge us for). I was more testy about the fact that it totally ruined my naming strategy!!! Lenny and Squiggy go in next week!!! What am I supposed to tell them about Laverne!?!?
And you can just forget about Carmine!!!
Recently, we took our youngest two kittens in to be spayed. Laverne and Shirley; they are so cute and completely inseparable. They are also identical. It was hard enough not to let them have anything to eat after 7:00 p.m. the night before; I didn't really care who was who, as long as they didn't eat.
When the hubster dropped them at the vet, the tech asked him which one was Laverne and which one was Shirley. He said "I don't know - it doesn't really matter...we just pretend to tell them apart."
Of course, the vet was sure this couldn't be so, but upon closer inspection, he and his tech agreed that they were pretty much twins. Or so they thought.
Shirley went first...got her shots, her worming and blood tests and then she went under the knife.
Next was Laverne. All was quite well until the minor surgery, which turned into exploratory surgery, failed to turn up a uterus. Poor Laverne, as it turns out, is actually a VERNE. To tell you the truth, I wasn't upset at all about the poor guy having two sets of stitches (which the vet most humbly did not charge us for). I was more testy about the fact that it totally ruined my naming strategy!!! Lenny and Squiggy go in next week!!! What am I supposed to tell them about Laverne!?!?
And you can just forget about Carmine!!!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Public Bathroom Etiquette
I’ve always kept an imaginary list of “Public Bathroom Etiquette” and I mentally refer to it time and again whenever I’m forced to journey into the world of other people’s germs.
Number one on the list has always been the “Courtesy Flush.” That’s for Number 2.
Anyway, I digress. Who, in their right mind, would believe that someone – let alone a public figure, would pick up the trash on a dirty, public restroom floor because they were a public servant?
New Rule #1 for my Imaginary Bathroom Etiquette; Repeat after me – If it’s on the floor, it is quite possible that it was previously in contact with someone’s ASS. Leave it alone!
New Rule #2 - If you see dirt, grime, or smudges on the bottom of the stall wall, unless you are wearing rubber gloves, are holding a Clorox wipe and have your name printed on your shirt – you should have NO REASON to put your fingers on the bottom of the wall or, for that matter, anywhere inside the stall. Put your hands in your lap and don’t move until you need to reach for the t.p
New Rule #3 – Unless you are playing a musical instrument or stepping on a deadly spider that is attempting to take your life – DO NOT TAP YOUR FEET. And if you are sitting in your stall, playing a musical instrument, WTF!!!?
New Rule #4 - If you have a W I D E stance, you might want to consider 'tucking in.'
The basics for bathroom etiquette involve a plethora of BASIC public behavior. The coughs you hear in stalls next to you are not people who are suffering from a cold. That’s called a noise distraction (Rule #53) to cover up the real activity taking place in that individual's stall. The courtesy flush (original rule) is a nice way of covering up the olfactory clues of what you are doing, as well as making it so other toilet patrons don’t have to try and hold back vomit because they can smell what you had for dinner the night before.
If you are a ‘hoverer’ – please be courteous and wipe the seat when you are done (Rule #36). Hovering is good to keep your butt off the seat, but for the person coming in after you who doesn’t have the coordination required to be a successful ‘hoverer’ it’s not fun to go for the sit and release, only to have to jump up quickly because they suddenly feel a 'hoverer's' leave behind. For those of us who have a tendency to wait until the last minute to go, it’s really a pain, because the jump up also means we’re going to have to dry the inside of our legs, as well as the toilet seat.
Proper use of a public restroom should not require that you have a master’s degree, or be elected to public office for that matter. It involves basic common sense. I won’t even get into the imbecile’s who don’t wash their hands with soap and water when they are done. That’s the reason for rule #137 – always use a paper towel, toilet paper, or your sleeves to open the door on your way out.
Number one on the list has always been the “Courtesy Flush.” That’s for Number 2.
Anyway, I digress. Who, in their right mind, would believe that someone – let alone a public figure, would pick up the trash on a dirty, public restroom floor because they were a public servant?
New Rule #1 for my Imaginary Bathroom Etiquette; Repeat after me – If it’s on the floor, it is quite possible that it was previously in contact with someone’s ASS. Leave it alone!
New Rule #2 - If you see dirt, grime, or smudges on the bottom of the stall wall, unless you are wearing rubber gloves, are holding a Clorox wipe and have your name printed on your shirt – you should have NO REASON to put your fingers on the bottom of the wall or, for that matter, anywhere inside the stall. Put your hands in your lap and don’t move until you need to reach for the t.p
New Rule #3 – Unless you are playing a musical instrument or stepping on a deadly spider that is attempting to take your life – DO NOT TAP YOUR FEET. And if you are sitting in your stall, playing a musical instrument, WTF!!!?
New Rule #4 - If you have a W I D E stance, you might want to consider 'tucking in.'
The basics for bathroom etiquette involve a plethora of BASIC public behavior. The coughs you hear in stalls next to you are not people who are suffering from a cold. That’s called a noise distraction (Rule #53) to cover up the real activity taking place in that individual's stall. The courtesy flush (original rule) is a nice way of covering up the olfactory clues of what you are doing, as well as making it so other toilet patrons don’t have to try and hold back vomit because they can smell what you had for dinner the night before.
If you are a ‘hoverer’ – please be courteous and wipe the seat when you are done (Rule #36). Hovering is good to keep your butt off the seat, but for the person coming in after you who doesn’t have the coordination required to be a successful ‘hoverer’ it’s not fun to go for the sit and release, only to have to jump up quickly because they suddenly feel a 'hoverer's' leave behind. For those of us who have a tendency to wait until the last minute to go, it’s really a pain, because the jump up also means we’re going to have to dry the inside of our legs, as well as the toilet seat.
Proper use of a public restroom should not require that you have a master’s degree, or be elected to public office for that matter. It involves basic common sense. I won’t even get into the imbecile’s who don’t wash their hands with soap and water when they are done. That’s the reason for rule #137 – always use a paper towel, toilet paper, or your sleeves to open the door on your way out.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
The World Wide Web is at MY HOUSE!
Spider Web that is!
I got home around 9:30 p.m. the other night. I worked late - I was not in the mood for much. Arriving home at night when you live "out in the boonies" (this is a term - I checked) can be a scary experience. There are coyotes, foxes, skunks, and any number of wild animals that you can think of if you are scared enough and you put your mind to it. There are also spiders - and we have TONS!
Alan and the kids had gone to bed before I got home, and they only left the utility room light on. Okay, I don't like the dark either, but particularly when there are spider webs in every oraface of the car port and the wrap-around porch (yeah - the spiders wrap around it too). Of course, the utility room light was enough to illuminate the huge spider that chose that moment to dangle DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE UTILITY ROOM DOOR!
This is a link to a picture of the kind of spider that was waiting for me. The eriophora species. Non-aggressive (whatever)
http://www.usq.edu.au/spider/find/spiders/192.htm
Anyhoo - as you can imagine, there was no FRICKIN way I was going in through that door. I waited a few seconds, while not taking my eyes off of it but patiently expecting it to go away (i don't know where to - I just wanted it to go). I fumbled into my purse for my phone and called HubbyD's cell (we have no land line). No answer - straight to his voice mail. OMG!!...
So, while not taking my eyes off the spider, I called Alan's number again.....ELEVEN TIMES!!! Geesh! So, I decided - I'll just get back in the car and honk the fricking horn until he wakes up. Screw what the neighbors think - this is a life or death situation - THERE IS A SPIDER in the ONLY lighted doorway to the house. Sure, I could take the porch around to either the front or back doors, but I already know the location of all the webs around the porch and there is no way I'm walking through an UNLIT web of WEBS!
So, I turn around to head back to the car, when I suddenly realize I have been standing with my back to not ONE, NOT TWO - but THREE of THESE:
http://www.arachnology.be/pages/Orbweb.html
The one on the far left - yellow and black.....insert collective chill here.
Well, now, what would any other arachnaphobe do under this kind of ill duress? I decided my only choice of action was to try and alert our 85 pound great pyranese (I believe I have mentioned Ally before) - her barking seems to be the only thing that wakes Alan up at night.
So, I whistled - and I can whistle pretty loud, let me tell you. Our cats came from out of nowhere - I didn't even know they were still outside! Ally heard too and she stood up to the window of the back door - panting and whimpering. I'm yelling at her to "BARK - BARK YOU DARN DOG!!! THERE'S A SPIDER!! TIMMY FELL IN THE WELL!!!" which is, I am sure, in direct conflict with what I normally yell at her which is "STOP BARKING!!!"
By then, the cats were all mewing and rubbing in and out of my legs, their tails tickling me (much like a spider might, were it crawling on you). I was really beginning to freak out, so I called HubbyD's phone about 12 more times (he actually had 18 missed calls this a.m. - so whatever that would make it). No answer. Spider still dangling in front of the door, my dinner sitting right on top of my esophagus, Cats meweling, and Ally standing in the window, panting like a doofus and cocking her head and looking at me while I stood there crying! What could I do? My heart was racing, I was trying to get the cats off me and keep my eyes off all of the spiders, who I am sure were circling for the attack.
What finally saved me was the spider itself. He seemed to have gotten tired of his aimless dangling, and shimmied back up his web rope to his coveted spot above the doorway. I decided to just make a run for it, because I couldn't keep an eye on the spiders behind me at the same time, one of which had apparently felt threatened as he was bouncing in his web (they do that ya know - really creepy) - so I RAN!! Had the door not been unlocked, I am positive I would have just broken right through the lock!!! I knocked Ally outta the way (her 85 lbs were no match for me, or my momentum) and slammed the door behind me. I had to look up and make sure the spider was still there. He was, and I'm quite sure if spiders could laugh, he would have been slapping all 8 knees.
Once inside, I decided to call Alan's phone again just to see if it was working and where he might have left it sitting. I heard it ringing from the dark living room, but just as I started to go towards it, the upstairs light went on and Alex, my son, came out of his bedroom yelling "What is that freakin' noise????"
I yelled back "IT'S YOUR DAD'S FRICKIN PHONE THAT APPARENTLY HE CANNOT HEAR!! I'M SURE GLAD I DIDN'T HAVE TOO BIG OF AN EMERGENCY!!!"
Alex asked "WHAT HAPPENED" - very worried sounding, my sweet boy.
I said "SPIDER HAPPENED!!!"
Alex, who is just as much of an arachnaphobic as I am said "OMG - HOW BIG??" - the sympathy was much needed at this time.
"Who cares how big - it could have killed me and ya'all wouldn't have known until you bothered waking up in the morning to my web covered, ridgid body" It can happen - check this out: http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/213294/Man_Killed_by_Pet_Spider_Eaten_by_Creepy_Crawlies
Needless to say, Alan was not amused that I woke him up to tell him that he nearly caused my untimely death by not waking up; nor was he sympathetic to my spider plight. People with NO 'real' phobia's just cannot understand.
I got home around 9:30 p.m. the other night. I worked late - I was not in the mood for much. Arriving home at night when you live "out in the boonies" (this is a term - I checked) can be a scary experience. There are coyotes, foxes, skunks, and any number of wild animals that you can think of if you are scared enough and you put your mind to it. There are also spiders - and we have TONS!
Alan and the kids had gone to bed before I got home, and they only left the utility room light on. Okay, I don't like the dark either, but particularly when there are spider webs in every oraface of the car port and the wrap-around porch (yeah - the spiders wrap around it too). Of course, the utility room light was enough to illuminate the huge spider that chose that moment to dangle DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE UTILITY ROOM DOOR!
This is a link to a picture of the kind of spider that was waiting for me. The eriophora species. Non-aggressive (whatever)
http://www.usq.edu.au/spider/find/spiders/192.htm
Anyhoo - as you can imagine, there was no FRICKIN way I was going in through that door. I waited a few seconds, while not taking my eyes off of it but patiently expecting it to go away (i don't know where to - I just wanted it to go). I fumbled into my purse for my phone and called HubbyD's cell (we have no land line). No answer - straight to his voice mail. OMG!!...
So, while not taking my eyes off the spider, I called Alan's number again.....ELEVEN TIMES!!! Geesh! So, I decided - I'll just get back in the car and honk the fricking horn until he wakes up. Screw what the neighbors think - this is a life or death situation - THERE IS A SPIDER in the ONLY lighted doorway to the house. Sure, I could take the porch around to either the front or back doors, but I already know the location of all the webs around the porch and there is no way I'm walking through an UNLIT web of WEBS!
So, I turn around to head back to the car, when I suddenly realize I have been standing with my back to not ONE, NOT TWO - but THREE of THESE:
http://www.arachnology.be/pages/Orbweb.html
The one on the far left - yellow and black.....insert collective chill here.
Well, now, what would any other arachnaphobe do under this kind of ill duress? I decided my only choice of action was to try and alert our 85 pound great pyranese (I believe I have mentioned Ally before) - her barking seems to be the only thing that wakes Alan up at night.
So, I whistled - and I can whistle pretty loud, let me tell you. Our cats came from out of nowhere - I didn't even know they were still outside! Ally heard too and she stood up to the window of the back door - panting and whimpering. I'm yelling at her to "BARK - BARK YOU DARN DOG!!! THERE'S A SPIDER!! TIMMY FELL IN THE WELL!!!" which is, I am sure, in direct conflict with what I normally yell at her which is "STOP BARKING!!!"
By then, the cats were all mewing and rubbing in and out of my legs, their tails tickling me (much like a spider might, were it crawling on you). I was really beginning to freak out, so I called HubbyD's phone about 12 more times (he actually had 18 missed calls this a.m. - so whatever that would make it). No answer. Spider still dangling in front of the door, my dinner sitting right on top of my esophagus, Cats meweling, and Ally standing in the window, panting like a doofus and cocking her head and looking at me while I stood there crying! What could I do? My heart was racing, I was trying to get the cats off me and keep my eyes off all of the spiders, who I am sure were circling for the attack.
What finally saved me was the spider itself. He seemed to have gotten tired of his aimless dangling, and shimmied back up his web rope to his coveted spot above the doorway. I decided to just make a run for it, because I couldn't keep an eye on the spiders behind me at the same time, one of which had apparently felt threatened as he was bouncing in his web (they do that ya know - really creepy) - so I RAN!! Had the door not been unlocked, I am positive I would have just broken right through the lock!!! I knocked Ally outta the way (her 85 lbs were no match for me, or my momentum) and slammed the door behind me. I had to look up and make sure the spider was still there. He was, and I'm quite sure if spiders could laugh, he would have been slapping all 8 knees.
Once inside, I decided to call Alan's phone again just to see if it was working and where he might have left it sitting. I heard it ringing from the dark living room, but just as I started to go towards it, the upstairs light went on and Alex, my son, came out of his bedroom yelling "What is that freakin' noise????"
I yelled back "IT'S YOUR DAD'S FRICKIN PHONE THAT APPARENTLY HE CANNOT HEAR!! I'M SURE GLAD I DIDN'T HAVE TOO BIG OF AN EMERGENCY!!!"
Alex asked "WHAT HAPPENED" - very worried sounding, my sweet boy.
I said "SPIDER HAPPENED!!!"
Alex, who is just as much of an arachnaphobic as I am said "OMG - HOW BIG??" - the sympathy was much needed at this time.
"Who cares how big - it could have killed me and ya'all wouldn't have known until you bothered waking up in the morning to my web covered, ridgid body" It can happen - check this out: http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/213294/Man_Killed_by_Pet_Spider_Eaten_by_Creepy_Crawlies
Needless to say, Alan was not amused that I woke him up to tell him that he nearly caused my untimely death by not waking up; nor was he sympathetic to my spider plight. People with NO 'real' phobia's just cannot understand.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Can You Give a 14 yr old a Time Out?
I hate stories that begin with "Seems like only yesterday," but it truly does serve as the perfect intro to many fine tales. Why, it seems like only yesterday I just started this blog...
Anyway, as you might have guessed, this is going to be one of those "remember when" type rants that will eventually lead to my much anticipated point.
It seems like only yesterday (hey...it's not like I didn't give you plenty of warning) I was keeping a written list of the cute and funny things my kids said. Some of them were just SO darned funny!
Example, here's a conversation I once had with my son, when he was 2 yrs old son while at a public fishing event for kids. I was trying to get him to talk to the video camera for the movie I am unfortunatley still recording for my parents (13 yrs in the making):
ME: "Tell grandpa what you're doing..."
SON: "Where's Granpa?"
ME: "The video camera, tell the video camera what you are doing.."
SON: "Uhm...fishing"
ME: "Did you catch anything."
SON: "Yeaaahh...."
ME: "Well, tell grandpa what you caught."
SON: "Where's Grandpa?" looking around now....
ME: "Tell the video camera what you caught...."
SON: "Uhm...two worrmmms...."
Yeah, the son will be turning 15 in 15 days. As far as I'm concerned, he should feel lucky I let him live this long. It's a lot harder at this stage in their lives to get them to just say something nice, let alone say something cute and worth dragging out the video camera for. Not that he would even let me get him on video tape, let alone a camera. "DON'T TAKE MY PICTURE!!!"
I've tried the creative approach to parenting, and since that's obviously not working for us, I am trying some other low stress level approaches such as "raising my voice," which according to my kids is YELLING, and the even more popular selective listening, which my kids have correctly labelled "ignoring." My kids don't think I'm funny. They aren't even sure I have a sense of humor to speak of, and they certainly aren't going to laugh at my jokes. That's why I have to laugh at my own, and if it's at their expense, all the better.
It's just that it seems like yesterday they were cute and sweet, and now, on the rare occasion we can coax them out of their bedrooms, they are moody and always ready for an argument. Every question you ask them is at first answered with the audible and much exaggerated *SIGH* before they want to know "WHY?" you need to know. By the time you tell them WHY and ask a second question, they want to know "WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS ASKING QUESTIONS?" If you are a parent with enough patience to calmly answer this question, then more power to you. At my house, it typically resorts to tears (not always mine) and somebody slamming a door (not always me).
So, here we are, dealing with a 15 yr old "person" living under our roof and NOBODY and NOTHING seems to make him happy. I would ground him, but that would mean he'd just hang around us being moody and that's not fun for anybody. But maybe that's the plan? I'm all for a "time out" chair for teenagers that not only makes them behave, but keeps them from growing up too fast. Is that too much to ask?
Anyway, as you might have guessed, this is going to be one of those "remember when" type rants that will eventually lead to my much anticipated point.
It seems like only yesterday (hey...it's not like I didn't give you plenty of warning) I was keeping a written list of the cute and funny things my kids said. Some of them were just SO darned funny!
Example, here's a conversation I once had with my son, when he was 2 yrs old son while at a public fishing event for kids. I was trying to get him to talk to the video camera for the movie I am unfortunatley still recording for my parents (13 yrs in the making):
ME: "Tell grandpa what you're doing..."
SON: "Where's Granpa?"
ME: "The video camera, tell the video camera what you are doing.."
SON: "Uhm...fishing"
ME: "Did you catch anything."
SON: "Yeaaahh...."
ME: "Well, tell grandpa what you caught."
SON: "Where's Grandpa?" looking around now....
ME: "Tell the video camera what you caught...."
SON: "Uhm...two worrmmms...."
Yeah, the son will be turning 15 in 15 days. As far as I'm concerned, he should feel lucky I let him live this long. It's a lot harder at this stage in their lives to get them to just say something nice, let alone say something cute and worth dragging out the video camera for. Not that he would even let me get him on video tape, let alone a camera. "DON'T TAKE MY PICTURE!!!"
I've tried the creative approach to parenting, and since that's obviously not working for us, I am trying some other low stress level approaches such as "raising my voice," which according to my kids is YELLING, and the even more popular selective listening, which my kids have correctly labelled "ignoring." My kids don't think I'm funny. They aren't even sure I have a sense of humor to speak of, and they certainly aren't going to laugh at my jokes. That's why I have to laugh at my own, and if it's at their expense, all the better.
It's just that it seems like yesterday they were cute and sweet, and now, on the rare occasion we can coax them out of their bedrooms, they are moody and always ready for an argument. Every question you ask them is at first answered with the audible and much exaggerated *SIGH* before they want to know "WHY?" you need to know. By the time you tell them WHY and ask a second question, they want to know "WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS ASKING QUESTIONS?" If you are a parent with enough patience to calmly answer this question, then more power to you. At my house, it typically resorts to tears (not always mine) and somebody slamming a door (not always me).
So, here we are, dealing with a 15 yr old "person" living under our roof and NOBODY and NOTHING seems to make him happy. I would ground him, but that would mean he'd just hang around us being moody and that's not fun for anybody. But maybe that's the plan? I'm all for a "time out" chair for teenagers that not only makes them behave, but keeps them from growing up too fast. Is that too much to ask?
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