Monday, July 6, 2015

That Moment When...

That moment when you tell your child – who you haven’t seen in nearly a week and you’re trying to give him some space because he’s a teenage boy and that’s what they need despite the fact that it’s killing you that you haven’t talked to him – that you miss him and he responds with this.



 

Hear that?  It might have been the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces.  

 

On the bright side, he hasn’t texted me 178 times like his sister.  Including at least 20 like this.

 

 

This is a partial shot.  There seriously were too many emojis to fit on the screen. 

 

She misses me.  She's told me 67 times. 


Oops, make that 68.


69.


 

Monday, June 8, 2015

Budding Entrepreneur or Just Plain Boy?

Last week, my son spent $5 on a pair of his friend’s shoes.  They are too small for the friend (he must have had a growth spurt since I saw him a couple weeks ago – not entirely impossible at this age).  They are also straight-up hideous.  Some sort of shiny, plastic-y, aluminum-y basketball shoes.  KD 11th generation (#idon’tknowwhati’msaying) or something.  Seriously, I think they’re made of plastic.  And they were insanely expensive.  Plastic.  They’re my son’s new “play” shoes.

His friend spent $1 on a pair of the same friend’s outgrown shoes.  Think he got a bargain?  Think again – one of the shoes was missing its sole.  As in, it was detached.  Said friend plans on Gorilla Gluing it back on.  Or something.  I can only imagine his mom’s reaction when he got home.

Interestingly enough, the next day a coworker of mine sought me out to consult on whether 13 year old boys are all so…out there.

I assured her that in my experience they were.  However, I have only experienced one (and by proxy a few of his friends) and therefore I am not necessarily an expert.  Mine is still very much “boy” versus “young man” although we are getting there.  Mostly I pray every night he will survive the day with all his bones, and his shoes, intact.  I figure if he can manage those two things, everything else is gravy.  We go through casts and shoes at an alarming rate.  And now I'm thinking I might be off the hook with this new purchase...at least for a while.

Today his friend texted him to see if my son had any shoes he wanted to get rid of.  Is this a thing?  He texted pics of the shoes he bought last week.  More texts were exchanged that mostly contained words like “sweet” and “dude” and “idk” and “ya” and he told his friend he’d sell them for $20.  To which his friend said “$10” and the transaction was complete.  He made $5.

Ya, dude.  Sweet.

I’m not sure where this transaction will take place – school?  If it takes place at all (Momma might put the kibosh on it, if she’s anything like me.  Scratch that, I actually let him buy the stupid things.)

The newly minted business man is now pondering his next venture.  In the meantime, he’ll be at Dick’s purchasing a (just one - $5 only goes so far) lacrosse ball with his earnings.

Because boys.

Well, because my boy.

Friday, May 22, 2015

Some Things You Just Never Expect to Hear Grown Up Parent Self Say

"Get the coins out of your nose."  Followed by "why?"  Because, really.

"Don't lick your sister."  Just don't.

"What do you mean, you sometimes forget to wear underwear?"  I can't.

"I'll be back with crickets and pizza."  The toads are having a party.

"I don't care what so and so does.  If he/she ran out into a busy road and ate dog doo, would you do it too?" A grim example of why being a follower is not a good idea, and one of my parents' favorites.

"Gah, what is that smell?"  Because you don't actually believe YOUR child's room will smell like a small animal died in there.  Not your child.  No way.  Never.

"The dining room is the room over there.  Hint: table."  Giving directions in your own home.  They've lived here all their lives.

"Did you just lick the tire?" My head hurts.

"Nope.  That is not what head trauma is." #lifewithboys

"Because I said so."  Because you said you never would.


Friday, May 15, 2015

Pick Your Battles


Some things are worth fighting for. Some things are not.

This morning, I walked in on T getting dressed. He was wearing new shorts that still had the tags on them. I walked over and reached out to pop them off and he ran away.

“I want those there.”

“But T, they’re supposed to come off.”

“But I want them. I like them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t walk around with store tags hanging off your pants. Be reasonable.”

“Why not?”

“Because you just can’t.” How’s that for parental expertise? Way to let him know who's boss. “It’s just how it works. It’s tacky. You don’t want people to see what they cost. It’s inappropriate.” That’s one I whip out whenever I can’t figure out an explanation that will actually work.

“But they make me happy!” He’s being silly, I know, and this particular child has a flair for the ridiculous, I also know. But he cannot wear shorts with tags.  I mean, right?

“Take off the tags.” Me using my end of discussion voice.  At this point it's crossing into "you're disobeying" territory.

“Fine, then I just won’t wear them.”

He is also a child of extreme stubbornness. The one who will sacrifice something equally good if it’s not what he wants. If he feels strongly about Bruster’s ice cream and everyone else wants Sweet Frog, he won’t order anything as a form of protest. If I tell him that he has to eat his Brussels sprouts or go to bed at 7:30, he’ll hit the sack before the sun goes down. He’s a martyr for his causes, no one can deny this.

I'm told I was the same way.

I stopped. I mean, really, what WAS the big deal? His pals would probably think it was funny. He went through a phase where he would wear his shirts inside out and backwards every day. His brother only wore black striped socks the summer he was 5. His sister liked to wear yoga pants UNDER her dance leotards. He wore his dad’s old glasses, a cape and a tool belt to every swim meet one summer. And, remember, this is the kid who wore a huge lobster hat and claws to Red Lobster for his birthday. The one who dressed up as an eyeball wearing a suit for Halloween. His sense of humor tends to lean toward irreverent, to say the least.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yesssssss.”

Was it worth it to go round and round over some stupid tags? No. Not really. Do I think it’s ridiculous? Of course. You should see the look my husband gave me when he saw them. I know he thought we were both off our rockers. However, I made him tuck them into his pocket.  Mission accomplished, for us both.

Sometimes, you just have to pick your battles. Sometimes, you have to compromise.  He wanted to be right, I wanted to be right and the reason for both of us was "just because."  I want my kids to see that their parents are people who can be reasoned with, when appropriate.  I want my kids to have a sense of independence and self expression.  I remember one time I made a miniskirt out of a piece of fabric my mom had by pinning it together and then, basically, pinning it on me.  I still can't believe my mother let me do that, but I appreciated that flexibility and compromise. Quite frankly, arguing over something as inane as tags can be a soul sucking sacrifice of sanity. Yes, I just alliterated the heck out of that. Will my lack of adherence to the “rules” about the tags reinforce bad behavior or rebellion long term? I doubt it. No one got hurt. Will someone say something to him and laugh? Perhaps, but maybe it won’t matter. Maybe my extreme sense of “supposed to” and “not supposed to” is MY issue. I’ve been pretty flexible with my kids over the years when it comes to hair, clothing, etc. I’m usually all about compromise and letting them have some control. I was so happy the boys didn’t argue with me when I requested that they wear something “nicer” to dinner on Mother’s Day that the fact that T was wearing a mint green stripe tee with green, navy and red plaid shorts didn’t even phase me. Again, not worth it. He did what I asked because it was Mother’s Day and he loves me enough to honor my request.

It was a battle that would have ruined Mother’s Day and it was a battle that would have ruined the morning. And over what?

I picked peace. Further rewarded by a smile.

It was so worth it.