She used to post something every day, or at least every other day.
Then her children both started high school and she got really, really busy and really, really tired.
OK, OK, I'm sorry! I have no excuse really. I'm not even sure what to say about what I've been doing. Open houses, Dance booster meetings, carpool, doctor's appointments, making lunches, Nutcracker auditions...oh, and the migraine that I had for 5 days last week didn't help. Brain rot. Ugh.
Also last week, we had a carpool emergency, of sorts. You see, we had a carpool all arranged to drive The Princess and some other students to her school, then I had another carpool arranged to drive The Princess from her school to her ballet studio. It was great...except that the carpool to drive the kids to school had a "problem child" so to speak. It just wasn't working out. So we had to scramble and come up with an alternate solution, which we did, but in the process of creating a new carpool somehow...the "problem child" ended up being left out in the cold. Which was a bit awkward but necessary. Because really, no one anted to be a part of that situation. And now we are all happy carpool parents and teens (well, obviously not the "problem child" and his parents) but it was a stressful situation for a while.
In other news, The Boy discovered a purple tutu that The Princess used to play dress up with when she was younger. The Boy wore it around the house one afternoon, amusing himself greatly. Unfortunately, that was an afternoon when Mommie Dearest was all migrainey so there aren't any photographs which I can share with you.
Yesterday, however, The Boy found a new use for the little purple tutu...
Lately, The Boy has a favorite phrase. It is "I will."
For example, if I ask him to empty the dishwasher he will respond, "Yes Ma'am...I will." If I ask him to put his laundry away he says, "Yes Ma'am...I will."
When I ask him two hours later, once again, to empty the dishwasher or put his laundry away he will again respond with, "Yes Ma'am...I will."
We continue this little song and dance routine, with me making a request and him assuring me that he will while continuing to ignore me until I lose my temper and shout at him. At this point in time he will sigh in exasperation, flounce away from whatever he was doing, which was so much more important than whatever I asked, and don his martyr hat with all the disdain and drama of a teenage boy.
If you call my house the phone will ring and ring. I will yell for someone to answer the phone. No one answers. It continues to ring and I scramble around looking for a phone. Naturally, none of the three telephones in our house have been hung up on the charger. I scurry frantically, listening intently for the ring until I finally find a telephone sitting inches away from a teen while they obliviously carry on with whatever they were too busy doing to hear the phone. Or me.
The Boy's bedroom looks like a bomb exploded in there. I have been trying to ignore it. It's not working. I feel myself getting twitchy at the thought of that room. It is horrible. It is indescribable. I have threatened to clean it myself, with several Hefty trash bags and a trip to the dumpster, and he remains unfazed.
I'll do it too. I will...as soon as I work up the courage to enter that disgusting hell hole of puberty.
This afternoon Mr. Wonderful asked The Boy if he would wash the anteater (Mr. W's term of endearment for my little hybrid. He loves my car. He really does.) The Boy responded, "Sure." A couple of minutes later The Boy announced to me that he was taking a shower. I was a bit puzzled and asked, "Didn't Dad want you to wash my car?" He replied, "I will. Later."
I told him that I was sure that Dad would like the car washed now, before he took a shower, not later. The Boy tersely said, "I WILL. Later."
I sighed. Actually, I grumbled and lectured. The Boy took his shower. It is now an hour later and the car has still not been washed.
I am frustrated. Teenagers baffle me. Teenage boys make me want to pull my hair out by the roots and scream.
I've decided to be a grownup about this though. Instead of screaming and yelling and being my usual nagging self, I will remain calm. And the next time he wants me to drive him somewhere I'll say, "Sure." And then I won't do it. When he asks when I'm going to take him to where ever he wants to go, I'll say, "I will."
The next time The Boy wants to borrow money, or have a friend over, or for me to wash his clothes, or buy him something, or cook him something....I'll smile calmly and say, "Sure, honey." When he continues to ask I'll just say, "I will. You know...later."
Maybe I'll even try ACTING like a teenager. It might be fun to try sighing dramatically and rolling my eyes and huffing and puffing in exasperation at the completely ridiculous and unrealistic things he asks me to do. I think I'll enjoy flouncing around like a teenage drama queen.
This might be fun. I doubt it will accomplish anything or turn my lazy teenager back into the sweet, considerate boy I raised, but I think it will make ME feel a bit better!
And if it doesn't, I'll just have some chocolate. That ALWAYS makes me feel better.
My name is P____. My name means youthful and it means faithful. It is both liquid and solid, colorful and bland. It is like the weather; sometimes sunny and bright, sometimes dark and stormy.
Nobody in my family has had my name. In some ways this is nice. I am original. I am not named for someone else. I'm not following in anyone's footsteps. But I also like names with stories. It is nice to have a story go with your name. I guess I am creating my own story.
When I was younger, I wanted a nickname. All my friends had one. They had long names that roll off the tongue like water. Elisabeth, Courtlyn, Caroline. Lizzy, Corky, Cayo. I was always P_____.
Most of the time I like my name. It is simple. It is elegant. It isn't very common, but it isn't rare. It isn't thick like mud, or thin like silk. It is who I am.
(Written by The Princess for an English assignment on 8/24/11)
Summer is officially over. The Princess had an awesome first day of high school. She loves her new school and has made a few new friends. She didn't get lost and she LOVES her English teacher.
The Boy is enjoying all his teachers as well - especially his AP teachers. He has been setting his alarm and getting up on time and seems to be settling nicely into the new routine.
I have been making lunches and signing papers. I have to buy more school supplies, for The Princess this time, and new dance shoes and tights. There are open houses at the schools and Dance Booster Club meetings and Nutcracker auditions coming up.
I am already tired of waking up early and rushing through the day. I'm tired of having to try to remember 5,408,089 things and keeping track of everyone's schedule. Did I mention that I'm tired of waking up early? Did I mention that I'm not a morning person? I'm feeling wistful about summer. I miss sleeping late and having lazy mornings. I miss having the kids around. I miss summer.
Which means that it is time to take a fond look back at Summer 2011....
The Princess had her Ballet Showcase...
The Boy did some fishing...
We spent a lot of time in the pool...
There were several wildfires in our area...
And we had smoky conditions for a couple of weeks!
The kids went to camp...
Between his week as a camper and his weeks working there, The Boy was there for a month.
The Boy had his 17th Birthday this summer...
The Princess also spent a week at camp...
Then she came home and met Maria, the Spanish exchange student, at the airport...
Maria spent 18 days with us and the girls became great friends...
We had the typical Florida afternoon thunderstorms...
But we still managed to spend a lot of time on the boat...
We went to the beach...
Where The Boy got up close and personal with a stingray.
We saw manatees...
We're ending the summer keeping a wary eye on Hurricane Irene and hoping she stays well offshore...
And wistfully remembering a wonderful summer filled with fun and relaxation and stress-free days without clocks or calendars or obligations.
This weekend The Boy took the boat out with a friend. By himself.
He and a friend went fishing.
Did I mention he took it out by himself? All alone. No adults.
Oh, and by the way? I'm totally fine with this whole "letting go" thing. Totally. I 'm fine with it. Really.
No, really, I am.
He called me on his cell phone when they were coming in to let me know there was a big alligator by our dock.
To put it all in perspective, look at this picture below....
Yeah, I'm not so OK with him hanging out that close to our dock. The good news is that he DID submerge as soon as he heard our footsteps on the dock. The bad news is that a few minutes later he appeared again in the same spot and he didn't seem inclined to leave. I think we may need to see what we can do to encourage him to mosey on down the lake to another spot.
Today was The Princess's first day of high school. I did try to get the first day of school photo, but The Princess was feeling a bit nervous and so she wasn't very cooperative.
In case you were wondering, last night was fun. Take one nervous, slightly hormonal and overly dramatic teenager who doesn't know what to wear the first day of school and mix it with one slightly overwrought, slightly hormonal-and-completely-over-the-freaking-dramatics-mother and you get...more drama. Like I said, it was fun.
So now both kids are in school. The house is quiet and peaceful. It feels really strange.
Jack has decided that the lack of kids means more attention for him.
He completely invaded my space this morning when I was busy checking email and facebook.
He rolled around and lay on his back and purred loudly while mrrrring and mewing and trying to talk to me.
I tried to ignore him.
He didn't like that.
Lucy, on the other hand, moped by the front door for a while and then went through the house gathering her balls and toys.
She laid all her toys in a pile and settled down to wait patiently for "her" kids to get home.
I'm killing time on the computer, sipping coffee, waiting patiently for MY kids to get home.
Lucy and I are really a lot alike. Except I think (I hope) my breath smells better.