Let's explore the world of the exclamation point , shall we? In this new age of texting, I think puncuation is very important. Especially when one is texting one's teenage daughter. I had to work last night and Melissa had gone to hang out with some friends. As the time for me leave drew near I sent her a text, which read:
My text: u know i have to work 2nite right?
Melissa: yes mom at 6!
What does this exclamation point say to you? To me, it says ATTITUDE. How dare she exclamation point me! Who does she think she is anyway? I think the text she sent me should included a nice smiley face at the end. Let's see how that looks:
My text: u know I have to work 2nite right?
The hypothetical Melissa text: yes mom at 6 :)
See, that looks much better.
Later I sent her this text:
My text: no exclamation points EVER!!!!
You too should ban your children from giving you the exclamation point. I mean what comes after that? Them giving you the finger.......
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Was I Always This Wimpy?
Today my daughter made one more step in crossing the threshold into being a "big" girl. It brought tears to my eyes which I had blink away, otherwise be humiliated in a public place. Keri and I set off to Wal Mart this afternoon in search of food for our empty cupboards. Keri had her cell phone so I gave her permission to look around a bit. I did instruct her to scream, hit, bite, or punch anyone who might try to steal her away.
I told her I would be up and down the food isles. A few minutes later she called me to tell me that ear piercing is FREE with the purchase of a pair of earrings. It's something we have talked about but never gotten around to. Maybe deep down I didn't want her to get her ears pierced. I stopped mid grocery shopping to go over to the jewelry counter and see how serious she was. She was pretty serious, and scared out of her mind. She was so afraid her hands were shaking. I told her if she really wanted to get her ears pierced that I would let her.
I swear the kid just about passed out from fear. As the very nice Wal Mart employee neared her head with that gun, she shrank away in fear. This lady was not about to be thwarted. She smoothly and quickly poked a hole in each one of my daughter's ears. I could feel that this was a big moment in her ten year old life. I could feel that this was a big moment in my 33 year old life. What's next I ask you? Puberty, pimples and boys are right around the corner. Do I HAVE to go through this yet again? I finally feel like Melissa is in the clear and past the hating me stage. I think we have a pretty close mother-daughter relationship. Now Keri will begin slipping away from me for a few years.
Sure it might not happen today, but it will happen. What's fair about your kids growing up? Nothing much I tell you. You nurture and love them for all those years. Then one day you are just expected to cut those apron strings and release them into the world, having little or no say in the choices they make. I know they will both still be my daughters, but my control over their lives will be gone. They will be free to make their own stupid choices, when clearly I will still know what's best for them. Ear piercing is just the beginning, I can feel it. Where is a nice big bottle of liquor when you need it?
I told her I would be up and down the food isles. A few minutes later she called me to tell me that ear piercing is FREE with the purchase of a pair of earrings. It's something we have talked about but never gotten around to. Maybe deep down I didn't want her to get her ears pierced. I stopped mid grocery shopping to go over to the jewelry counter and see how serious she was. She was pretty serious, and scared out of her mind. She was so afraid her hands were shaking. I told her if she really wanted to get her ears pierced that I would let her.
I swear the kid just about passed out from fear. As the very nice Wal Mart employee neared her head with that gun, she shrank away in fear. This lady was not about to be thwarted. She smoothly and quickly poked a hole in each one of my daughter's ears. I could feel that this was a big moment in her ten year old life. I could feel that this was a big moment in my 33 year old life. What's next I ask you? Puberty, pimples and boys are right around the corner. Do I HAVE to go through this yet again? I finally feel like Melissa is in the clear and past the hating me stage. I think we have a pretty close mother-daughter relationship. Now Keri will begin slipping away from me for a few years.
Sure it might not happen today, but it will happen. What's fair about your kids growing up? Nothing much I tell you. You nurture and love them for all those years. Then one day you are just expected to cut those apron strings and release them into the world, having little or no say in the choices they make. I know they will both still be my daughters, but my control over their lives will be gone. They will be free to make their own stupid choices, when clearly I will still know what's best for them. Ear piercing is just the beginning, I can feel it. Where is a nice big bottle of liquor when you need it?
Friday, January 16, 2009
Called Out By The Lunch Lady
Another sign I am frazzled: The lunch lady suggested to Keri that she needs a free lunch application. Why? Because I never seem to remember to send a check.........
Lazy Days of Winter
Do you remember the story about the mother hen? The one where the mother hen worked very hard to make fresh, homemade bread for her family? The short version goes something like this:
Once upon a time there was a mother hen who wanted to bake some fresh bread. None of her offspring would contribute anything to the process of making the fresh bread. You know, planting the wheat, chopping it down, grinding it into flour, blah blah blah. When it was all said and done, the mother hen told the children they could not have some of her freshly baked bread. She told them they didn’t help her make it, so they could not partake of the bread. The little hens became very sad. The mother hen then changed her mind and allowed the small to have some of her very fine bread.
This is my story:
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away(in Tennessee) there lived a mother hen who worked two jobs. At first, her baby hens were very mindful to help out around the house. They would clean, take out the garbage, wash dishes, and various other household chores.
As time passed by, the children began to help out less and less around the house. Yet the mother was STILL working two jobs. The laundry piled up so much that the mother had to wear dirty clothes to work. The bathroom hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. Dishes were in the living room. The floor hadn’t seen a vacuuming in quite a while. This turn of events stressed out the mother hen. She began to feel frazzled and even wrote about it on her blog. Pretty soon payday rolled around. The children, I mean baby hens (chicks?)….came running to the mother hens with their little grubby hands opened, wanting some of that cold, hard cash. Guess what the mother hen did. She calmly looked at her lazy offspring and then said, “Sorry SUCKAS!!!!!! You ain’t getting any of this loot”. Then she went out and bought herself a new outfit and treated herself to lunch, leaving the sad, lazy, miscreant children at home. The End.
No, really, she didn’t change her mind and give the children some of her hard earned cash. She spent it ALL on herself.
Once upon a time there was a mother hen who wanted to bake some fresh bread. None of her offspring would contribute anything to the process of making the fresh bread. You know, planting the wheat, chopping it down, grinding it into flour, blah blah blah. When it was all said and done, the mother hen told the children they could not have some of her freshly baked bread. She told them they didn’t help her make it, so they could not partake of the bread. The little hens became very sad. The mother hen then changed her mind and allowed the small to have some of her very fine bread.
This is my story:
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away(in Tennessee) there lived a mother hen who worked two jobs. At first, her baby hens were very mindful to help out around the house. They would clean, take out the garbage, wash dishes, and various other household chores.
As time passed by, the children began to help out less and less around the house. Yet the mother was STILL working two jobs. The laundry piled up so much that the mother had to wear dirty clothes to work. The bathroom hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. Dishes were in the living room. The floor hadn’t seen a vacuuming in quite a while. This turn of events stressed out the mother hen. She began to feel frazzled and even wrote about it on her blog. Pretty soon payday rolled around. The children, I mean baby hens (chicks?)….came running to the mother hens with their little grubby hands opened, wanting some of that cold, hard cash. Guess what the mother hen did. She calmly looked at her lazy offspring and then said, “Sorry SUCKAS!!!!!! You ain’t getting any of this loot”. Then she went out and bought herself a new outfit and treated herself to lunch, leaving the sad, lazy, miscreant children at home. The End.
No, really, she didn’t change her mind and give the children some of her hard earned cash. She spent it ALL on herself.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Frazzled(and Butt Vibration-No, it's not what you think)
I am frazzled. I realized I was frazzled yesterday. I wanted to deny that I was frazzled. Earlier in the week when I forgot to put mousse in my hair, I thought I was just forgetful. When I did the SAME THING yesterday, I realized I MIGHT be a little frazzled.
When I had to dig through the laundry basket and wear pants that haven’t been washed, I knew it was getting serious. Another symptom of my affliction is the inability to remember what day it is. More often than not, if I try to recollect what day of the week it is, I draw a blank. If I didn’t have a calendar with my work schedule on it, I fear I would get fired. I would never know which days I am supposed to work. As it is, I usually have write down my schedule for upcoming weeks multiple times. I will write it down. Then when I go to transfer the info to my calendar, I wont be able to find where I wrote it down. I will rewrite the schedule and repeat the same process again.
I am suffering the consequences of my decision to not do anything last Saturday. My laziness created a domino effect on the rest of my week. I worked an eight-hour shift on Sunday, I got nothing done. Monday I was off from DSJ (Department Store Job) but had to make dinner and grocery shop. I got nothing else done. So here it is Thursday morning and I have to dig out dirty clothes to wear.
Melissa and Keri came by DSJ last night. Keri wanted to know if I always walk that fast when I work my second job. I told her that yes I do always walk that fast when working at night. I walk that fast because I want to get all my work done. Sometimes if we can get everything done, we get to leave early. So yes, I walk VERY fast!
She also did not understand why I couldn’t buy her something while I am on the clock. I tried to explain to her that shopping while you are working is frowned upon. I don’t think she got it. She was still pouting when they left to go home. Incidentally, Melissa will be joining me in February at DSJ. I told her she better not do anything to besmirch our family name. I am hoping that she won’t be scheduled to work the same nights that I work. I just don’t know if I can bear for my daughter to call me by my first name, yet I don’t think she should call me “Mom” at work.
A conversation between Keri and I while driving on the interstate:
Keri: Mom, is that thing on the side of the road that makes your butt vibrate really so people won’t fall asleep and run off the side of the road?
Me:(Laughing) Yes.
When I had to dig through the laundry basket and wear pants that haven’t been washed, I knew it was getting serious. Another symptom of my affliction is the inability to remember what day it is. More often than not, if I try to recollect what day of the week it is, I draw a blank. If I didn’t have a calendar with my work schedule on it, I fear I would get fired. I would never know which days I am supposed to work. As it is, I usually have write down my schedule for upcoming weeks multiple times. I will write it down. Then when I go to transfer the info to my calendar, I wont be able to find where I wrote it down. I will rewrite the schedule and repeat the same process again.
I am suffering the consequences of my decision to not do anything last Saturday. My laziness created a domino effect on the rest of my week. I worked an eight-hour shift on Sunday, I got nothing done. Monday I was off from DSJ (Department Store Job) but had to make dinner and grocery shop. I got nothing else done. So here it is Thursday morning and I have to dig out dirty clothes to wear.
Melissa and Keri came by DSJ last night. Keri wanted to know if I always walk that fast when I work my second job. I told her that yes I do always walk that fast when working at night. I walk that fast because I want to get all my work done. Sometimes if we can get everything done, we get to leave early. So yes, I walk VERY fast!
She also did not understand why I couldn’t buy her something while I am on the clock. I tried to explain to her that shopping while you are working is frowned upon. I don’t think she got it. She was still pouting when they left to go home. Incidentally, Melissa will be joining me in February at DSJ. I told her she better not do anything to besmirch our family name. I am hoping that she won’t be scheduled to work the same nights that I work. I just don’t know if I can bear for my daughter to call me by my first name, yet I don’t think she should call me “Mom” at work.
A conversation between Keri and I while driving on the interstate:
Keri: Mom, is that thing on the side of the road that makes your butt vibrate really so people won’t fall asleep and run off the side of the road?
Me:(Laughing) Yes.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
My Weekly Update
Melissa and I had to go to court on last Thursday for her expired tags ticket. I have a couple of observations regarding our “court experience”. The first thing I noticed is that the courtroom is nothing like you see on TV. The room was pretty small, and we were packed in there like sardines. I always imagined courtrooms as being these big, spacious rooms with the little fence that divides the people in the courtroom from the lawyers and defendants. The second thing I noticed was the giant gavel on the judge’s desk. That thing was huge, it was like something out of a cartoon.
I wonder if he actually uses it? I would have taken a picture of it, but that would have embarrassed Melissa beyond repair. My most meaningful observation was that if you get a ticket for running a stop sign in this town, IT WILL COST YOU. It will cost you a lot. I will never again “roll” through a stop sign. The fine is over a hundred dollars. I might as well saw off one of my own arms. For Melissa’s ticket, the fine was two dollars…….plus $113 dollars in court fees. I immediately began sawing my left arm. I also realized that I would never make a good criminal. I would never be a good criminal because I fear the law. Even though I knew we were there for just a ticket, I was definitely uneasy. Melissa would probably deny it, but she was downright scared. If I was a different kind of mother, I would have enjoyed her fear. I would have relished that she was afraid of the law, and maybe been comforted in the knowledge that she probably wont grow up to be a troublemaker. If I was a different of parent that is.
I am still working the second DSJ (Department Store Job). A couple of nights ago, this lady showed me a shirt and asked me if we had it in a different size. I took the shirt with me, and when I couldn’t find one in the size she wanted, I put it back on the rack. I returned to the fitting room and told her we didn’t have any in the size that she wanted. We did however have a different color in her size. For the SECOND time she tried to send me to fetch a shirt for her. I was having none of that. It’s not that I don’t want to give good customer service…but COME ON!! I am not a personal shopper for one thing. It’s not as if I don’t have anything else to do but run around getting clothes for people. Don’t get me wrong, if you come in and want to know where to find things, I will be happy to point you in the right direction. But I am not the “gopher girl”.
At first I tried to pretend like I didn’t hear her try to send me to fetch her another shirt. That obviously didn’t work. I had to think fast. I had to let her know without being rude that I was not going to fetch that shirt for her. I spun around and told her where she could find the shirt she wanted. She then stated that she didn’t want to leave her purse in the dressing room. I smiled pleasantly and told her that since I was cleaning that area anyway, that I would be happy to watch her purse while she went and got the shirt she wanted. This worked beautifully. She even thanked me later as she came out of the fitting room.
I would never try to send someone to fetch things for me in a store ( unless I was physically unable to). I just don’t understand what makes people think it’s ok to treat others this way. Later, I even told the manager about what happened. She confirmed that we are NOT personal shoppers and that I was justified in not fetching that woman a shirt.
Saturday was fun. I did nothing. I did nothing all. I didn’t even get out of my pajamas. For the ENTIRE day. I watched TV. All.Day.Long. I didn’t even cook dinner. Keri and I went and picked up dinner and yes, I was still in my pajamas. That’s why God invented drive thru windows. I hope you have enjoyed another deep and meaningful post. Please stay tuned for more thought provoking dialogue.
I wonder if he actually uses it? I would have taken a picture of it, but that would have embarrassed Melissa beyond repair. My most meaningful observation was that if you get a ticket for running a stop sign in this town, IT WILL COST YOU. It will cost you a lot. I will never again “roll” through a stop sign. The fine is over a hundred dollars. I might as well saw off one of my own arms. For Melissa’s ticket, the fine was two dollars…….plus $113 dollars in court fees. I immediately began sawing my left arm. I also realized that I would never make a good criminal. I would never be a good criminal because I fear the law. Even though I knew we were there for just a ticket, I was definitely uneasy. Melissa would probably deny it, but she was downright scared. If I was a different kind of mother, I would have enjoyed her fear. I would have relished that she was afraid of the law, and maybe been comforted in the knowledge that she probably wont grow up to be a troublemaker. If I was a different of parent that is.
I am still working the second DSJ (Department Store Job). A couple of nights ago, this lady showed me a shirt and asked me if we had it in a different size. I took the shirt with me, and when I couldn’t find one in the size she wanted, I put it back on the rack. I returned to the fitting room and told her we didn’t have any in the size that she wanted. We did however have a different color in her size. For the SECOND time she tried to send me to fetch a shirt for her. I was having none of that. It’s not that I don’t want to give good customer service…but COME ON!! I am not a personal shopper for one thing. It’s not as if I don’t have anything else to do but run around getting clothes for people. Don’t get me wrong, if you come in and want to know where to find things, I will be happy to point you in the right direction. But I am not the “gopher girl”.
At first I tried to pretend like I didn’t hear her try to send me to fetch her another shirt. That obviously didn’t work. I had to think fast. I had to let her know without being rude that I was not going to fetch that shirt for her. I spun around and told her where she could find the shirt she wanted. She then stated that she didn’t want to leave her purse in the dressing room. I smiled pleasantly and told her that since I was cleaning that area anyway, that I would be happy to watch her purse while she went and got the shirt she wanted. This worked beautifully. She even thanked me later as she came out of the fitting room.
I would never try to send someone to fetch things for me in a store ( unless I was physically unable to). I just don’t understand what makes people think it’s ok to treat others this way. Later, I even told the manager about what happened. She confirmed that we are NOT personal shoppers and that I was justified in not fetching that woman a shirt.
Saturday was fun. I did nothing. I did nothing all. I didn’t even get out of my pajamas. For the ENTIRE day. I watched TV. All.Day.Long. I didn’t even cook dinner. Keri and I went and picked up dinner and yes, I was still in my pajamas. That’s why God invented drive thru windows. I hope you have enjoyed another deep and meaningful post. Please stay tuned for more thought provoking dialogue.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Holidays Are Definitely Over
Early mornings are still hard. I try really hard not to let my temper get the best of me in the mornings. The usual list of items sure to rile me up are as follows:
Keri won't get out of bed
Keri can't find anything to wear
Keri isn't ready to leave when I am
Keri can't find her shoes, bookbag, folder, agenda, etc.
As we are pulling up at school, Keri remembers that she didn't some of her homework done
Any of the above mentioned issues are sure to make my blood boil. I must congratulate Keri on her unwitting addition to the list this morning. In order to appreciate my wrath, I should tell the WHOLE story.......
A few months ago, I bought Melissa a new winter coat. She didn't have one that was acceptable to wear. A couple of weeks after that, I bought a new coat for myself. I carefully ochestrated the purchasing of these coats to coincide with special shops days at the department store I work at. I received an additional 30% off over and above the sale price of the coats. (That last part has no relevance other than to illustrate my superior shopping savvy. ) I didn't purchase a coat for Keri. She didn't need one. She had two perfectly acceptable coats. One of them looked brand new.
She felt left out plain and simple. Everyone in the house got a new coat except for her.She kept bugging me about it until finally I went and bought her a coat just to shut her up. I finally decided that I didn't want her to feel like a red headed step child. She got a new coat too. The coat she ended up picking out, cost 100 bucks, however I did not pay that much for it. It was on sale and I carefully orchestrated the purchasing of her coat on a special employee shop day also.
This morning as we were getting ready to leave the house, I told her it was cold and she would need her coat. She came out of her room in a sweatshirt. I asked her where her coat was. You know, the coat that I JUST bought her that she HAD to have. She told me she could not wear her coat because it has little white fuzzies on it. I got the coat and there were a few fuzzies on it.
I saw red. She was the one who HAD to have a new coat. Even though she already had TWO.perfectly.acceptable.coats!!!!!! Now she was telling me she couldn't wear it because of a few red fuzzies? WTF? She couldn't wear her coat that retailed for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHH.
I didn't force the issue much this morning but I promise you that she WILL.WEAR.THAT.COAT.TO.SCHOOL. When she gets home this afternoon I will be calling her with a special chore. Her special chore will be to pick all the fuzzies off her coat. Cuz in the morning I fully expect to see her WEARING THAT D*MN COAT!!! To top that off, she also told me this morning that her Nike tennis shoes have dog poo on them. Like we have a Nike tree out in the back yard that I can just pluck her a new pair of shoes off like a piece of fruit. I am not working two jobs so that I can throw money away. Or am I?
What makes me so crazy is that she seems to have no appreciation of the sacrifices made so that SHE can have nice stuff. That coat cost me more than just money. It cost me time away from her. It cost my attention. I gave up sleep for that coat. The fact of the matter is that if I wasn't working the second job, I wouldn't have been able to afford that coat for her. Now she won't wear it?! We'll see about that, we will just see.
Keri won't get out of bed
Keri can't find anything to wear
Keri isn't ready to leave when I am
Keri can't find her shoes, bookbag, folder, agenda, etc.
As we are pulling up at school, Keri remembers that she didn't some of her homework done
Any of the above mentioned issues are sure to make my blood boil. I must congratulate Keri on her unwitting addition to the list this morning. In order to appreciate my wrath, I should tell the WHOLE story.......
A few months ago, I bought Melissa a new winter coat. She didn't have one that was acceptable to wear. A couple of weeks after that, I bought a new coat for myself. I carefully ochestrated the purchasing of these coats to coincide with special shops days at the department store I work at. I received an additional 30% off over and above the sale price of the coats. (That last part has no relevance other than to illustrate my superior shopping savvy. ) I didn't purchase a coat for Keri. She didn't need one. She had two perfectly acceptable coats. One of them looked brand new.
She felt left out plain and simple. Everyone in the house got a new coat except for her.
This morning as we were getting ready to leave the house, I told her it was cold and she would need her coat. She came out of her room in a sweatshirt. I asked her where her coat was. You know, the coat that I JUST bought her that she HAD to have. She told me she could not wear her coat because it has little white fuzzies on it. I got the coat and there were a few fuzzies on it.
I saw red. She was the one who HAD to have a new coat. Even though she already had TWO.perfectly.acceptable.coats!!!!!! Now she was telling me she couldn't wear it because of a few red fuzzies? WTF? She couldn't wear her coat that retailed for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHH.
I didn't force the issue much this morning but I promise you that she WILL.WEAR.THAT.COAT.TO.SCHOOL. When she gets home this afternoon I will be calling her with a special chore. Her special chore will be to pick all the fuzzies off her coat. Cuz in the morning I fully expect to see her WEARING THAT D*MN COAT!!! To top that off, she also told me this morning that her Nike tennis shoes have dog poo on them. Like we have a Nike tree out in the back yard that I can just pluck her a new pair of shoes off like a piece of fruit. I am not working two jobs so that I can throw money away. Or am I?
What makes me so crazy is that she seems to have no appreciation of the sacrifices made so that SHE can have nice stuff. That coat cost me more than just money. It cost me time away from her. It cost my attention. I gave up sleep for that coat. The fact of the matter is that if I wasn't working the second job, I wouldn't have been able to afford that coat for her. Now she won't wear it?! We'll see about that, we will just see.
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