Oh, To Be Young and Entitled

My 17 year old thinks her dad is going to buy her a Mercedes for her first car. She thinks that because he said he would. Daughters have always had powerful manipulative skills with their fathers and she is no exception.
This is a girl who has pretty much had everything handed to her all her life, and trust me when I say that I take my share of the responsibility. That's what parenting out of fear gets you.

I've raised her by myself since she was old enough to walk (although her father and I were married until she was six years old, as a parent, sadly he was less than useless).
Over the years most of my parenting has been based on these two questions...
1)What did my mother say to me in this situation that made me never want to discuss anything important with her ever again? and...
2)What do I wish she would have said?
Well, that's nice in theory. And I must admit that due to my lack of over-reaction, I have a daughter who tells me more than most - the good, the bad and the ugly. She's told me some things that made me want to plug my ears and hum "Oh Happy Day" until she stopped talking. And I'm thankful for that part of our relationship. The downside is that when you parent out of fear, you're always one step behind the teenager. They can smell it and they immediately start circling the waters.

Then they think they own you.

And apparently, if you're her father, the next thing you know, you're promising them a Mercedes.

This is a girl who has never had a job. My first legal job was when I was 14 at Del Taco down the street. I walked there four days a week in my dorky little uniform, just so proud that I had a job. I say my first "legal" job, because when I was 13, some lady who owned a children's boutique hired me to stock shoes for 10 hours a week and paid me under the table. The point is that I had the balls to go into that boutique and ask her for a job. She recognized this and respected it. So she gave me a job that she probably never even needed filled and taught me a great lesson about taking initiative.

Anyone who knows me knows that I would rather dive head first into my own vomit before I admit to my mother doing something right as a parent. She's the "What Not To Wear" of parenting. But to give credit where credit is due, that woman taught me about initiative and hard work. She talked me into walking into that boutique at 13, because I had nothing to lose (she also talked me into stowing away on a cruise ship and tried to get me to move to Hawaii during a family vacation when I was 18, but that's a whole 'nother post). So why didn't I get that parenting gene? FEAR!
First and foremost, in fear of "becoming" my mother (orphaned Tupperware lids aside), I threw the baby out with the bathwater. Second, fear of losing my daughter - forcing her out of her comfort zone to the point that her reaction was to blame me for the discomfort. The same person, who at 13 boldly walked into a store asking for a job, now at 41 is sometimes unable to stand up to her 17 year old daughter. Out of fear. Don't get me wrong, she doesn't walk all over me, but this issue is not only present, it's rearing its ugly head right about now.

So now she feels entitled. To a Mercedes. To car insurance. To a gas card.

Now, there is no way I will let this happen, and after today she knows it. Her attitude towards the car and all the accessories - her basically sitting back and waiting for it all to be handed to her - is what has kept me from getting her driver's license thus far, even though she's over 17. But I can't ignore how we got here.

I know I'm venting and this post doesn't really do her justice. As far as teenagers go, she's put me through very little stress. She's very loving, she's honest, she respects my rules even though her curfew is earlier than her friends (I checked). This is the only area in which she and I will go to the mat. But oh boyyyy do we.

But I do have to wonder - how do I undo the damage that I have most certainly contributed to?

Why Do I Love This One So Much?

Because of text conversations like this...
(By the way, she's "BOO")

BOO: just wanted to let you know I ditched 7th. I'm going to in n out. Love you. See u later tonight!

ME: Better be kidding.

BOO: I am. I'm in spanish right now. I just wanted u to think I was a bad kid :)

ME: No chance of that.

BOO: hahaha gracias :)

Me: I love you.

BOO: love you too. Can I be home at 1130 if I'm not too tired? PLEASE!!!Pretty please with cherries on top my most prettyful mommy dearest!!

ME: Tell me I'm the best mommy in the whole world and you want to grow up to be just like me. Oh yeah, and I'm a really good dancer!

BOO: duh, I was already saying those things to my teacher I just didn't want to over-do it. I was totally saying it tho!! Haha :)

ME: That's a good girl. ;-) Ok, you can stay 'til 1130.

BOO: Yayaya! Thank you mommy I love.

ME: You're welcome, baby doll that I love back.

YES!! I know it's enough to give you a cavity, but she's going to be 16 in one week!!! I have to hang on to this AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!!!! I have to hang on to the sickeningly sweet stuff while she's still not embarrassed that she has a mom.

Irrefutable Signs That I Have Become My Mother...

1. The sheer number of fast food napkins in the glove box of my car, "just in case."
2. The way my daughters complain that I speak like this, "I think we should go to...um...uh...um...yeah...What was the question?"
3. My brand new Spode Christmas Dinnerware, service for 8.
4. How I walk out of Big Lots with my girls (CA's equivalent to the 99 cent store), and say to them, "Don't touch your eyes!"
5. The fact that I use a variation of the, "Because I said so" response, only mine sounds more like, "Because I AM the boss of you!"
6. The number of tupperware lids I have in my cupboard that have no actual tupperware to cover.
7. My inability to throw away a perfectly good ziplock baggie if it can be reused.
8. The fact that I have bottles of salad dressing in my refridgerator that pre-date the millennium.
9. The way I walked into my 15 year old's bedroom the other night and whined, "I only saw you for five minutes today. We never spend any time together anymore!" Wha,wha,wha...
10. My inability to purchase something spontaneous for my kids because in the back of my mind I'm really thinking, "I think I have a coupon for that..."

...And these are just the ones I'm willing to admit.

Any of you turning into your mother? Let me know and make my day! ;)

Seven Days of Pure Corruption...

My girls and I are taking a road trip tomorrow. After my little one's soccer tournament, we're driving up to northern California to pick up my two little nieces, who are 5 and 3 years old. I get to bring them home with me and keep them for a week at which time my sister will pick them up and take them back home, after the requisite trip to Disneyland, of course. What she doesn't know is how much fun the girls are really going to have at Auntie Steph's house. They're already trained to know that when Auntie Steph is around, they get stuff. They pretty much get whatever they want, and I think it's only right that they do. That's my job and I take it very seriously. I'm going to spoil the little stuffin' out of them. It's been awhile since I had really little ones around the house, so it's going to be a week of water wings in the pool, trips to the lake and the beach, snickerdoodles for breakfast, you know...the usual. On the older one's 5th birthday last year, I drove up to spend it with her and she ran into the bedroom in the morning and said, "Guess what, Auntie Steph! I'm five today - I'm a whole hand!!" How stinkin' cute is that? So of course, I told her that I was going to make her a special breakfast for her 5th birthday - chocolate chip pancakes! And my sister vetoed it. Said she was going to have birthday cake that day and it was too much sugar. What kind of bullshit is that? For her first breakfast at Auntie Steph's house, she'll have none other than chocolate chip pancakes. With extra whipped cream.

But this week is also time for paybacks. You see, my sister is very strict, demanding only the best behavior from her kids and hasn't always appreciated my attempts at corruption. The sad part for her though is that I had children first and she set the standard for corrupting each other's kids. When my teenager was just two years old, my sister taught her the following dialogue...

Sister: "What does a doggie do?"
Daughter: "Ruff. Ruff."
S: "Good girl! What does a kitty cat do?"
D: "Meow. Meow."
S: "You're right! What does a ducky do?"
D: "Quack. Quack."
S: "Yup. Now, what does Mommy do?"
D: "Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag."

Yeah. Nice. Not to mention teaching her "See Food," and other slightly undesirable behavior for a child while in public. To this day, she's still bitter that she named a child after me, and I named a dog after her. So this is my chance at total and complete corruption. I've tried it in smaller doses in the past. This last Christmas, I had the 5 year old convinced that my sister got nothing but coal from Santa when she was a little girl. She now speculates on what her mother could have possibly done that was hideous enough for that unspeakable punishment, and to this day will offer possibilities as she thinks of them. But that was peanuts. I need to get serious about this and I'm taking suggestions. If you have any great ideas let me know. And yeah, the usual rules apply...you know...no one can get hurt, no permanent emotional damage, nothing that will get them in any serious trouble with their mother, blah blah blah. But let's get down to the most important qualification of a great suggestion...it must make Auntie Steph the hero. :)

I'll keep you posted.

Monday Memories 05.29.06

Since it's Memorial Day, I wanted to remember an incredibly special man ~ my father-in-law, Edward Frances (with a last name that is incredibly Irish and the same as mine, which is why I'm not going to name it now). His parents came over to the United States from Ireland and passed through Ellis Island. He was born in 1922, served in WWII and raised 7 children; two step-children and five of his own, one being my ex-husband. He was a kind, gentle and wise man and I loved him tremendously.

While I was married to my ex-husband, his mother hated me with a passion. She actively pursued ways to show me how much she despised me, as she did with each person - man or woman - who married one of her children. I was very young and shocked and confused by her unprovoked hatred. I was raised to respect adults, especially my elders, and was just idealistic enough to think I could turn it around, so for the first few years I never fought back. Through it all, there was Ed. He loved her immensely, but knew she was unfair in her treatment of me. He always let me know that he loved me and that I was a valued member of his family. He made dealing with her bearable. We shared the same twisted sense of humor and he knew it. When something happened at a family gathering that he knew I would find equally ridiculous, he would always catch my eye and give me a look that spoke volumes. It was as though only he and I knew how completely stupid a particular comment was. If someone said something that could have a silly double meaning, we agreed on those too, and with a look could have each other in stitches.

When my ex-husband was born, Ed was in his late 40's. He and my mother-in-law had married later in life, each with two children of their own, and decided to have a child together. What they got was triplets, one of them being my ex-husband. Unfortunately, he had smoked all of his life, and by the time his triplets were in their teens, his health had begun to fail. In the last few months of his life, he lived in an assisted living home after losing most of his lower limbs. His wife no longer felt equipped to care for him and even checked out emotionally. She lived a just few miles away, yet visited less then once a week. It killed me to think of him alone and I tried to visit him at least every other day. I knew my time with him was short. I tried to make his last few days as comfortable as possible, and I would bring him whatever he wanted, trying to repay him for the love and kindness he had always shown me, even when it was against his wife's wishes.

Ed passed away in September of 1995, at 73 years old. He was the proud father of seven children and at that time, grandfather to eleven. My oldest daughter was four years old and my youngest daughter was not yet a year old when he passed away. Sadly she never really knew her grandpa Ed. He was always so proud of being the child of immigrants and being able to fight for his country, and of raising and providing for his family.

If I had five more minutes with him, I would look him in the eye and thank him for being the model of fatherhood, marriage, love and fairness that he was to me and countless others. I would ask him to tell me one more story from his days as a Navy corpsman, and I would tell him I love him and miss him dearly.

My Pride and Joy...

My 15 year old daughter is beautiful. She's also incredibly intelligent. She was in the 'gifted' classes in elementary school, honors programs in Jr. High and made the honor roll all through 8th grade. Then she hit high school - she's now a Freshman - and everything changed. Her grades tanked. To put into perspective how badly her grades tanked, consider this scenario and the extreme parental reaction...
She plays volleyball. Not only on her high school team, but on an off season club team. She's very very good - only 5'5" but she's an outside hitter and although I'm her mother, let me just say...she kicks ass. Her club team won Nationals in their division last year, greatly in part to my daughter's hitting ability. She was chosen again this year for the Nationals team. Her grades, however, sucked. Her father and I decided to not let her go to Nationals (after plenty of warning about the grades). It was the hardest decision I've made as a parent, but her grades really suck that bad right now. I don't know why such an intelligent girl would let something so important slip so far, but she has. I realize it's an age thing. She's 15 - a little bit of this is to be expected, right? But then every once in awhile, I wonder if kids this age just lose knowledge and commen sense on an exponential level. She does have this uncanny knack for song lyrics. It's amazing, actually. She can hear a song just once and sing every single word the very next time she hears it. I've pointed it out to her many times.

This conversation actually took place between us the other day...

(By the way, she is loudly singing a song she is hearing for the second time)

Daughter: That's such waste of memory.
Me: What is?
D: The fact that I can remember song lyrics and nothing else, like what I need for school. I mean, why can't I remember science facts instead of song lyrics?
M: Maybe you put more value on the lyrics (She looks confused). I've seen you look up song lyrics on the internet. Maybe you should look up more important things, like what you study in your science class. (And then sarcastically, I add...) Maybe you should look up Nuclear Fusion.

And in all seriousness, my beautiful and gifted 15 year old daughter turned to me and said...

"Is that a lipgloss?"

Monday Memories 05.01.06

Today my daughter asked me about my first date with her father. Although we're divorced, we're good friends and the memory is a great one. When I first met him, I was with my friend Kris who had a pretty strong crush on him. I even tried to set them up, thinking I was doing her a favor. The first time I laid eyes on him, I thought I would never go out with someone who looked like him. You see, back in the day he was an extremely handsome young man. So much so that in our younger years, even other men would come to me and say, "Wow Steph. Your husband is a good looking man!" I assumed that someone who looked as good as he did would be cocky and shallow. I can see so clearly how he looked back then.
I was supposed to have a date with his twin brother (actually, his triplet brother - they also have a triplet sister). But when his brother came to see me in San Diego (where I was in college at the time), he brought him with him and as they say...the rest is history. His brother didn't care that we hit it off so well, in fact he was engaged to someone else and had plans to cheat on her by coming to see me. Obviously I had no guilt about liking his brother. My friend Kris knew we had a strong connection and encouraged me to go out with him - she was later a bridesmaid in our wedding. :)
I remember him walking into the room on that night, and as soon as we saw each other, we were inseparable. He asked me out for later in the week and he again came to San Diego. I had a convertible and offered to drive. I wanted to show him the best of San Diego and took him to La Jolla with the top down. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch - this was 1989, so that was still a novelty. Since I drove, he had just taken some money out of his wallet and gotten in my car, leaving his wallet in his truck. During lunch I learned that the person I assumed was stuck up was actually so down to earth. He told me about his family with seven kids (!), and his bond with them was touching. He was the exact opposite of what I expected just by looking at him. At the end of lunch, it turned out that he hadn't taken enough money out of his wallet to pay for lunch. He had to admit that he didn't have enough money (and had also left his credit cards in his wallet back at my house) so I left him at the restaurant while I ran around La Jolla looking for an ATM so we could pay for lunch. How embarrassing that must have been for him! But he handled it with class and humor. We then went to another restaurant/bar where we had some margaritas and then I took him to the cliffs in Solana Beach - the best place in San Diego County to watch the sunset. After that we were inseparable. He lived in Orange County, where we both grew up, so he was an hour away, but every night from then on he drove to San Diego after work. We were married a year and a half later.
Even though we're divorced now, for a variety of reasons, we both look back on those days with fondness. We were very young - only 22 - and stupid. We had no idea what it took to have a successful marriage. Neither one of us had seen a good model of marriage growing up. But mostly we look back in fondness because we know we were madly in love. Yes, we know the beauty that came from our marriage - I'm convinced that we never regret that which leads to the birth of our children - but it was more than that. It was young love and idealism at it's finest.
We've grown up so much since then. We've been apart for almost ten years, he's married to someone else (who is exponentially a better fit for him than I ever was), and we still maintain love and respect for each other that allows us nothing but sweet memories.

I suck.

You know how on my kids birthdays every year I wake them up at the exact time they were born and tell them the story of how the day started, the trip to the hospital, who was there, how excited we were, all that stuff? Yeah, well apparently I've been getting my younger daughter's time wrong for 11 years now. Ironically, it's my older daughter that could really give a rip about it, but the little one loves it. It's so important to her that on her birthday this year she asked me over and over, "Does daddy know what time I was born?" And she had tears in her eyes, anticipating the answer to be no. I said, "Of course he does - 7:23 AM - he was there too, and he would never forget such an incredible moment!" Then I went and hid somewhere while I called my ex-husband and told him exactly what time to call her in the morning, because of course he had no clue.

So this morning, we're driving in the car and she takes a copy of her birth certificate out of my purse to look at it. I'm carrying it around because I need to turn it in to her soccer club this afternoon. She looked at it and made a joke like, "Oh good. I was born." I glanced over at the birth certificate and in the upper right hand corner is the time she was born. 8:05 AM. Nice. So of course, I distracted her by pointing to her dad's signature and took it out of her hands, saying something like, "What?! I gave birth to you and they didn't even let me sign your birth certificate?!" And with that I folded it up, put it back in my purse and moved on, essentially delaying the moment when she discovers that our 7:23 AM birthday memories have all been a sham! Parenting at it's best.

Easter Love...

My daughters were gone for Easter yesterday. The older one was in Palm Springs with her best friend and the little one spent the weekend at her dad's house. So it was just me and I missed them so much! I went to my friend Michelle's house for brunch, which ended up lasting longer than any brunch I've ever been to, but we had a great day! Then I went to church with my mom and made her dinner.
Being a single woman amongst a world full of married friends is interesting. There's always some time during every holiday where my girls are at their dad's, so my closest friends get on this little network where they feel like they have to make sure I have plans. It makes me feel slightly pathetic but I absolutely love them for it! I can hear the conversation now...one calls up another and says, "Hey, take Steph for Easter this year, I took her for Christmas." I know they really want me there and always try to talk me into staying longer. I love them so much for caring about my holidays, and sharing theirs with me.
While I was finishing up brunch, I checked my cell phone and saw that each of my daughters had texted me. Yup, me...the non texter - who just about broke down when I saw the text messages from my lovely little girls on Easter. My older daughter is now 15 (yes, her birthday came and went about two weeks ago and I'm officially old!) and she is my sweetie, but definitely as self-centered as a 15 year old girl can be right now. But she took the time out of her day to send me and her sister a text. This is what it said..."Happy Easter!! Love you guys!! I'll call you later :)" And just when I start feeling all warm and fuzzy, I read on..."Oh and mom can i possibly go to the movies tom night? we're coming home tom morning. <3" Yup - that's my girl! And her sister responded with..."Hi! Happy Easter! I love u!"
I can't tell you how incredibly happy it made me to know that both of my daughters thought of me and each other on a holiday apart. There are so many female hormones flying around my house with the three of us, a female dog and a female cat, that you'd think we would all pull each other's hair out (yeah, we've come close), but what a lucky mom I am that there's also so much love.

"I See Stupid People..."

On a Saturday before Christmas, my two daughters and I went shopping at Costco. I'm not sure if Costco is a nationwide chain, so if you don't know what it is, think mega-warehouse where they sell everything in bulk, for a lot cheaper than the grocery store, sporting goods store, hardware store...you name it.
When we pulled into a parking space, I turned off my car, turned to my girls and said, "Get ready. We're about to enter Costco on a Saturday before Christmas. Every stupid person in Southern California is within those four walls this very minute. Don't be scared. Don't be frustrated. Just be ready." In an attempt to preserve our sanity, we decided to make a game of it and count stupid people. Whenever we walked by someone blocking an entire aisle with their oversized cart just waiting to get a sliver of a Bagel Bite sample, we would yell over our shoulder, "NUMBER 1!!" If an entire family of stupid people rammed their cart into us and then just stood there blocking our way for longer than two minutes, we would yell, "NUMBERS 3 through 6!!" Eventually, my girls ditched me to look at DVDs. A few minutes later, I heard a voice from the opposite end of an aisle yell, "NUMBER 7!!!," and I turned to see my oldest daughter trapped between a shopping cart and a wall of hair products, while she was trying to get to me. The shopping cart was actually pressed right up against her stomach pinning her in place, and the person behind it wasn't moving!
Later, when my younger daughter was pushing the cart she said, "I just found Number 12, and Boo (her sister) is in serious danger of becoming Number 13." Now when we're in any crowded place, we know we'll automatically play the stupid person game. We walk through the gates of Disneyland, or anywhere else there are big crowds, and almost immediately get started with, "NUMBER 1!! And NUMBER 2 for the idiot who just sneezed into the back of my head!"

Not long after that day at Costco, I was walking into my living room where my daughters were sitting and I tripped, barely catching myself from falling. Without even looking up, my oldest daughter quietly said, "Number 17." :)

Monday Memories 3.28.06

When I was 14 and a freshman in high school, I went to the movies one night with my girlfriends. While I was there I met a junior from another high school named Jeff Burgess (yeah, I'm naming names. In case anyone knows him, feel free to kick his ass). It was 'love at first sight!' He was older, sooo good looking, charming, and seemed to like me. You have to understand that I was very much the ugly duckling when I was younger. I was not a pretty girl in high school. I never got asked out on dates or to dances, and I was very insecure and shy. I know, I know...Those of you who know me personally are thinking there's no way I was ever shy. But I was. Painfully shy and insecure.
Anyway, I gave Jeff my phone number and following that night we started talking on the phone every night. I really liked him and he seemed to like me too. It was the end of May and he asked me to his high school's prom. For a little ugly duckling like me, this was a dream come true! I was one of those girls who had every issue of Teen magazine and tried to copy the hairstyles and make-up tips. I so badly wanted to be liked, and now I thought I was, and by a junior!! I was in heaven! Jeff called to say that he talked his mom into getting us a limo and he made reservations at a nice restaurant. I told all of my friends (most of whom had already met him the same night at the movies), and they could not believe my good luck to be asked to the prom by this boy! My mom took me shopping for a dress, shoes, and all the accessories and I could not wait! The night of the prom, it must have taken me five hours to get ready, three of those spent on my hair. And then I waited for Jeff to pick me up.
And waited.
And waited.
I could tell by the look on my mom's face that she had already realized what I was not yet willing to accept. I had been stood up for a prom. He never even called.
I finally gave up, took off my dress and put my robe on, trying to be brave about it and not cry. My sister and I both worked at the nearby movie theater at the time and my sister was working that night. My mom called my sister Jennifer at work without me knowing it and my sister sent one of her friends from work to pick me up and bring me to the movies and hang out with her while she was working. When I got there, she was behind the concession stand selling popcorn and she handed me something over the counter. It was a box from Hubbub (a very cool store in the mall) and inside was a little purple top - just a little present to cheer me up. She was only 15 years old, yet so sweet and sensitive to her little sister's feelings. Love between sisters is stronger than anything else on earth and my sister embodies that.

Good looking junior or not, Jeff Burgess turned out to be a major loser. Something really random must have triggered this memory for me, because I haven't thought of it in at least a decade. But my sister, now that's another story. She took what could have been a humiliating and devastating situation and made me feel loved and secure. She still does to this day.

Monday Memories...3.13.06

When my littlest girl was 3 1/2, she swam with water wings. She's such a stud now that it's hard to imagine how she ever needed assistance, but she was pretty cute in her little Shamu wings. She would even go into the deep end at 3 years old.
If you know her, you know what a thrill seeker she is. I'm in total awe of her, seriously. She is now 11 years old, and a total stud. She can do everything she wants. Everything. And she does it with confidence.
Back to the water wings...One day we were swimming in a community pool. A friend of mine named Robert and I were in the shallow end just sort of cooling off while the girls were swimming around. Julianne (my little one) was in about three feet of water (well above her head), and asked if she could take off the water wings. I said okay, as long as she stayed up against the wall - you know how little kids who can't touch grip the wall as though their lives depend on it? Well, there she was - gripping the wall with no water wings. She had taken them off and thrown them on the concrete on the side of the pool. So as Robert and I stood watching her, all of a sudden she pushed off the wall, aiming for the stairs twenty feet a way. Robert and I lunged at her, I swear it was in slow motion, as we yelled, "Nini!!!!!!!" (Her nickname), the whole time thinking were going to pull a drowning child out of the pool. This little girl who couldn't swim without water wings a day before, all of a sudden broke out in the Little Mermaid like swimming stroke, with her arms by her side, her face under water, and her feet kicking furiously, until she made it to the stairs. When Robert and I realized that she knew what she was doing, we backed off and let her swim. She stood up on the stairs, turned and looked over her shoulder at us with the strongest look of self-satisfaction, mixed with a little bit of awe and a lot of surprise. So cute!! By then the whole crowd around the pool noticed what happened and were cheering her on!
We spent the next hour practicing her new found swimming skills with her - with the pool crowd continuing to cheer her on. We stood 10-15 feet away from the wall while she pushed off of us and mastered her skills. After about an hour, she got tired of swimming and decided to get out. She hiked herself up on the wall and out of the pool, passing the water wings on the concrete next to her. She turned and looked over shoulder, and then my little three-year-old proudly yelled, "FWO DOS WATTA WINGS AWAY!!!!"

Monday Memories 2.13.06

 
 

Saturday was my daughter's Winter Formal. Her first, since she's a freshman. What a beauty, huh? Of course I had my emotional, sentimental moments when I saw how pretty and grown up she is. And I must add...in my objective and unprejudiced opinion, my daughter was by far the most beautiful and graceful girl there. :)
What was cute is that I went by myself to the lake to take pictures although I can think of a few people who wished they could have gone with me. I didn't want to embarrass her by bringing an entourage with cameras. When we got there and met her date, he brought both his parents, his grandfather, his older brother and his brother's girlfriend! His grandfather kept coming up to me and picking up my hand saying, "Oh my goodness...she is beautiful!" He took the words right out of my mouth.
He was such a sweetheart, as was the rest of his family.

It was a girl ask guy dance, so we took care of everything financially...

Dress, shoes, purse, jewelry..............$175.00
Ticket to get into the dance..............$110.00
Limo and dinner for two................... $80.00
Boutonniere for her date...................$11.00
Manicure/Pedicure/Hair/Make-up............$100.00

My baby's memories of her first formal....PRICELESS

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The Depravity of Today's Youth

My daughter has a friend named Alex, the nicest 13 year old boy I have ever met. He's really close to not only my older daughter but the younger one as well and we all look for excuses to have Alex come over. Last year, we bought him his own Steeler jersey and dragged him to the Steeler bar with us to cheer them on, and he's been going with us ever since (of course, this year was absolutely insane). The kid is just a good sport, he's very respectful and fun, and puts up with my hormomal daughter better than anyone else can.
Three weeks ago, before the Steeler game against the Broncos, we picked Alex up on the way to the Steeler bar. (Side note: for those of you who might be thinking, "Wait a minute. Steph is actually taking her children to a bar?!" Let me remind you that it's a Steeler bar, thank you very much, and I've been a die hard Steeler fan for a long time, so I think raising my children to get behind a team, stick with it, cheer them on through good times and bad - well that's just good parenting!! :) Anyway, I digress...so we're on our way to the bar and we stop by to get Alex. We get into a pretty bland conversation about what he had been doing all weekend when he tells us that he went to the movies the night before. He and his friends were so bored with the movie that they left early. How bad does a movie have to suck to get a bunch of 13 year old boys to leave? All they do is screw around in there anyway. So he goes on to tell us that out of sheer boredom they went into the pet store next door and decided to buy a bunch of Mexican Fighting Fish, and a few harmless little goldfish, to throw in the fountain outside and see what would happen. Am I the only one who finds this hysterical? If my daughter came home with that story, I couldn't even be mad, I would just be impressed with her creativity. So to continue the story, Alex said that when they were inside the pet store, the woman behind the counter wouldn't sell them the fish because she said they were fighting fish, they were dangerous to other fish (duh),and she wouldn't sell them to the boys because they were under 18. So they went outside and stopped the first customer to walk in the pet store and asked him to buy them the Mexican Fighting Fish. I stopped him at that point, laughing hysterically and yelled, "You pimped fish!!!" How funny is that?! I can see it now...Alex and his friends standing outside the pet store, saying something like this..."Psst...Dude. Can you score us a couple of fighting fish while you're in there? Here's an extra five-spot if you do." Ha! I love that kid.

Monday Memories...1.23.06

I joined the Monday Memories Club, which was started on a great website, that I would link you to if I could think clearly enough to link right now (I will do that shortly, I promise). Although Monday only has about an hour left, and I am exhausted, I wanted to get this down while I had it in my head. I came across the concept of Monday Memories and fell in love with it. What better way to honor the incredible people in my life, and my experiences. I've been so tired though lately, and hung up on a little silly graphic that I let Monday almost come and go without writing this post (Yes, I'm that anal that a little graphic can hang me up for that long).

Although I'm not writing about the memory that I originally intended, and it's a little early to be adding a twist to this new concept of Monday Memories, it is what is on my mind right now.

Today is my youngest daughter's 11th birthday. As some of you know, I wake my daughters up each year at exactly the time they were born, crawl into bed with them and re-tell the story of the day they were born. I usually end up getting very emotional about it every year! They used to love it, then they made fun of me for it, now they expect it and once again love it. So this morning, my 14 year old and I went into the little one's bedroom, laid down on either side of her and started her special day with stories of how glad we were that she entered the world, and our lives. Friday her dad and I took her snowboarding for her birthday, so today was pretty low-key. She went to school, I picked her up and brought her to my office (which she loves), let her choose the restaurant for dinner, picked up her best friend and then came home to open gifts (I only let my girls have a party every other year and this was an off year). She loved her presents and kissed me goodnight saying what a great day she had.

Even though it was a great day, that is not the focus of this Monday Memory. When my girls went to bed, I took a long bath in my new bathtub, then went downstairs to turn off the lights. I passed my girls rooms where I knew they were sound asleep and missed the days of when I could crawl into bed with them and sleep all night, listening to them breathing. I stopped doing that because I became too obsessed with the perfect night's sleep. I walked down my beautiful hand built wooden stairs, past the little black cat, the incorrigible puppy in her crate, and the brand new little Betta fish named Bono, and went in the kitchen to turn off the lights. While I was walking down the stairs, looking down into my living room and my new house, I flashed back to earlier in the night when we were in that very room with my daughter while she opened her presents. I thought about tonight and I thought about the future. I wondered what kind of memories I will have in this new house, as there will undoubtedly be more than I can imagine. Every Christmas yet to come, every Prom night, every birthday just like today. I wonder how many happy years we'll spend in this house, because although I bought this house intending to stay here forever, one never really knows. I wonder if this will be the house where my daughters' fondest memories will originate. I wonder if my daughters will feel relieved when they walk through the door after a brutal semester at college. I wonder if I've created enough traditions and memories to sustain them when they feel far away from home.

Our memories, for as long as we can remember, have been of just the three of us. Their dad and I have been apart for so long that neither one of them, or even I for that matter, can remember back to when we were together. So it's always been just us, and we've always been thankful for each other. Sometimes I worry about what memories they're missing because of that; if they will remember our family as being "incomplete." I don't think so, though. I think we've done alright for ourselves. And 20 Christmases from now, I think we'll look back, not on what was missing during these years together, but of the incredible love that we have for one another, the gratitude we now feel for finally having our "own space," and the incredible memories of birthdays just like today.

My 10 Year-Old's Letter to Santa, Part II

My little girl put a stocking up on the wall the other day to fill with letters to Santa that we write between now and Christmas. She's added one a day for several days, and this was her last one...she is priceless, and I'm a lucky mom.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Dear Santa,

I am so glad you reached our house even though we moved! You can take a look around! It's awesome! My mommy is the best! And got it! I told you on my list but I was wondering if you could give my mommy a gift even though she is a mommy! She is the greatest mommy and really deserves it! Will you also fill her stocking? Hers is the one that looks just like mine but is hanging from the Y (as in the word J-O-Y). She loves candles, pictures, stuff that keeps you warm, shoes, a lot of things! Oh I forgot she also loves jewelry! I hope you have a Merry X-MAS! Thank you for everything!

I love you!

(Heart), Nini

My Baby Girl

For those who don't know me...my daughter just started high school. She's 14, a freshman, and pretty. I knew before she ever started that I was screwed. Not only a freshman, but a pretty one, and a volleyball player. Who doesn't like the cute volleyball girls? Her Homecoming dance is coming up this weekend and by last week, five (FIVE!!) boys had already asked her. She finally said yes to the fifth one. One was a junior. I pretty much told her that she would go to the dance with a junior over my cold dead body. She understood. So after being asked to Homecoming by five different boys (did I mention one was a sleazy junior bastard who has no business even looking at my daughter?), she got her braces off on Friday. You know how you can picture how someone will look without them and you know they'll look better? Well, I had no idea. She doesn't just look better - she looks exponentially better. Out of control better. Okay...I know I'm her mom. I know I'm not objective, but TRUST ME!!! Anyone who has seen her (with or without braces) will tell you how beautiful she is. I AM SCREWED!!! So some kid named Jared is the lucky little guy. He called the other night and has terrible phone manners, and I am a stickler about phone manners in teenagers. Poor kid has no idea how I plan on re-training him if he hopes to spend one minute with my daughter. I've done it before, I can do it again. The last kid that liked my daughter now says the following when he calls my house..."Hi, Stephanie! This is Alex. How are you?" I say fine, talk to him for a minute and then he asks if Livy is available. They have stayed great friends, so we laugh about it now, but I literally trained him in speaking to parents, and told him how it would serve him well when he was older. His parents thanked me. If I can train him, I can train an impressionable little guy like Jared.
So of course, they're doing the overpriced limo thing with a bunch of kids. And of course, I will be at whoever's house the limo is picking them up at, biting my tongue when the kid looks at my daughter like she's dessert, and testing for a firm handshake. I know, I know...I'm a psycho mom. But she's my baby. I think she was just in diapers like last week. When did this happen? When did she grow into this beautiful, self-assured, kind hearted and confident young girl? Not to mention so charming. Oh, damn. I know I'm going to cry on Saturday night. But don't worry, I'll wait until they drive away.

Ow...Ow...OOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!

I just got back from taking my girls ice blocking. That's where you take a big block of ice, find the steepest grassy hill you can, and slide! A California version of sledding.

I'm now in pain.

Why do I think I'm 16 years old and my body can take this stuff? Ow.

I have to admit it was a blast. We ended up with 7 kids and 4 adults. Four of the kids tried building an ice blocking train where they all hooked onto the person's legs in front of them, lining up their blocks of ice and letting go. That caused some injuries, but none that landed them in the emergency room. That's always a bonus. I'm always amazed at the fact that other parents still seem to trust me with their children. Personally, I wiped out so many times I lost count.

We took little Hope with us and of course she had a blast chasing us down the hill, as though she might actually catch us! Such a cutie. And then there's me, thinking my body is made of steel, whizzing down the hill, as though wiping out at the bottom won't hurt for the next three days. Ow.

Oh, this part was cool...I've been ice blocking since high school, even on the same hill. It's simply called The Ice Blocking Hill, and everyone in this town knows about it. The first time I went was in 1982. It was in high school right after my first, no second, Go-Go's concert. It was their Vacation tour. Of course I got a T-shirt from the concert which showed all the Go-Go's water skiing on the front, and the back said, "Don't bother me - I'm on Vacation!" I STILL HAVE IT!! Yes - it's been my official ice blocking shirt ever since then, and I pulled it out for the big event tonight! Vintage Go-Go's. Love it. I wore it proudly.

Well, I gotta go to bed. I'm so sore but even too tired for a bath. Of course my girls aren't even home yet, because the ice blocking apparently didn't tire them out enough and now they need to go toilet paper someone's house. I'm cool with that as long as they show up in the morning to help clean up.

By the way, everyone who told me to crate train Hope - Thank You!! When I finally listened and started crating her for the night, she and I have slept so much better!!

A Little Hope...

Awwwwwwwww.......... 

Yup...here's the newest member of our little family. Her name is Hope.
I broke down, gave in, caved in...whatever you want to call it - I am a sucker!
My girls have been begging for a dog for years and I've managed to dodge this bullet for as long as possible. I swear raising a puppy is harder than raising a child and I've tried to explain that to my kids. But then we were in the pet store the other night and saw this little cutie and even I couldn't resist. I did pretty well when they told me that the dog was $750! For a dog? She doesn't even have papers (not that I need those, but for $750 bucks, you'd think they would at least keep up the pretense of her being valuable). I'm all about saving the dog from the pound - that's where we got our cat. But I sure fell in love with this little girl! I talked them down to $600 and then got my ex-husband to pay for it (he's a bigger sucker than me! ;) He started out by saying he would give me $400 towards the dog and then he saw the teary look in my daughter's eyes when she thought she couldn't get it. She gave us the speech about how of course she'll pick up after it, take it for walks, bathe it, feed it twice a day, train it to drive her to school...all the things a parent wants to hear. Her dad fell for it hard - she is such a daddy's girl! He finally said, "Okay, just go get the dog, and just try to get me a good deal on it!" She started to cry again, and when I asked her why she was crying, she said, "Because I'm so happy!" Awww...!! Then I look at her dad and his eyes were all teary, and I thought - SUCKER!!!

She sure is a cute little thing, but now I'm in for long nights, early mornings and chewed up stuff all over the house. I never realized how much stuff I leave laying around until I got her, and it's only been one day!

By the way, I don't know the first thing about training a dog, so I could use any advice anyone chooses to give. She's managed not to have any accidents in the house (we take her out like every five minutes!), but I know they're coming.

I'll keep you posted on little Hope's progress!

A Story That Should Definitely Stay in Vegas...

...but if I had any judgment in the first place, it probably never would have happened.

No short way to tell this story, so grab some popcorn.

I have to preface this story by first telling you a bit about my older sister, Jennifer. We are very, very close. We don't make any moves without first consulting the other, parenting, career-wise, etc. We talk almost every day, even though we live 400 miles apart. However, and this is a very big HOWEVER, we could not be more different. She is ultra-conservative (no, don't worry, not an I-voted-for-Bush conservative), but in her dress, in her manner, in her idea of fun. Very unlike my brother and I. It's amazing that we were all raised in the same household. She's very serious, I'm just not. Over the years, she hasn't always identified with, or approved of, all of my behavior to say the least. You can tell how different we are by first sight...I get called the MILF in my neighborhood (and find that sickly flattering); she would find that utterly offensive. I have really long dark brown hair, and am a total girly girl. She's got short blonde hair, no make-up (she's lucky enough to not need it), glasses, shops at L.L. Bean. Okay, so now you know...

I have a friend in Vegas named Michael who I decided to have breakfast with on that Saturday morning. We went to the new Wynn Hotel to check it out. I had been up very late the night before and had a Bloody Mary with breakfast. We then decided to check out the pool, thinking as a brand new hotel, it would be very cool. It was lame, but there was a bar, so by 10:30 AM we're throwing back martini's. Hey, it's Vegas.
Well, on the other side of the bar, there's another pool, this one with a sign that says, "European Style Bathing." I know what they were hoping for, but if it was anything like the European Style Bathing that I saw while I was in Europe, the only ones getting naked were a bunch of saggy old men. There were quite a few people at the pool already, but none of them actually topless, just a few men hoping to see topless women.

So fast-forward an hour or so, a couple drinks later...Michael bribes one of the pool guys to get us a couple of chairs and some towels even though we can't produce a room key, and we get set up under a tree in the back. By now, a few women are sunbathing topless, and a whole lot of men are enjoying the scenery. It's really hot and I'm in jeans, high heeled sandals and a silk-lined tank top. I'm hot. It's already 95 degrees out. My four drinks tell me there's nothing wrong with taking off my jeans and sunbathing in my underwear and tank top. I figured you can't tell the difference between my underwear and a bathing suit anyway (if you're into white thong bathing suits), so off they come. Of course Michael, being the guy that he is says, "SURE!! Why not? Get comfortable!" So we lay there soaking up some rays for a few minutes when I realize that I'm sweating under my silk tank top. Get ready...this is the part that lands me in the God Fearing Mother of Two Hall of Shame...I decide it's a great idea to take off the tank top, too. By now plenty of women are topless around the pool (okay...a couple), and hey, I'm in the back where there's very little foot traffic. Off goes the tank top.

Around noon my sister calls because her flight had just landed. I told her we were at the Wynn hotel pool and to go to our hotel, grab my bathing suit and join us. I told her to call when she was outside the pool area and we would slip the pool kid more cash to let them in. Of course I didn't tell her I was naked, because that would have caused a huge rift between us - she would not dig it to say the least (as well as very different than me, did I also mention that she's a very protective older sister?).

Back to the pool...I still managed to stay low key for awhile until Michael wanted to go in the pool. Of course, I resisted for awhile, remembering the WHITE underwear, but he talked me into walking to the pool with a towel wrapped around me, just dropping it long enough to get under water. While standing by the side of the pool I met two women who were also thinking of stripping down and getting in, so of course I talked them into it so as to have a couple partners in crime. I stayed in the water up to my neck, but they just did not care. They were all over the place, which was nice because it made me feel like the attention was on them and not me. After awhile, we get out of the pool. He got out first and held out my towel and my drunken state convinced me that no one saw anything. I knew I had to dry off in time for my sister to arrive and put my suit on when she got there.

A few minutes later, I'm feeling a little parched. Must be a Vegas phenomenon...the thirst that even a bloody mary, an apple martini and three beers before noon can't quench. We were wondering what happened to our cocktail waitress and after that much alcohol, getting pretty damn indignant, too! We needed more drinks! I told Michael to go, he told me to go, I said no, and he said, "I KNEW you wouldn't go up to the bar like that. I dare you." WHAT?! Did someone just dare me to do something that is totally within my realm of possibility (which only means won't hurt my children or myself - anything else is fair game)? That same bloody mary, apple martini, and three beers were screaming "HEY! There is NO shame in MY game!!!" I grabbed a towel to cover up the front of my still wet underwear, flipped my hair over my shoulder with a backwards 'I'm too stinkin' hot' look at Michael and I was off! Through the cluster of chairs, around the pool, and through the bar. I was just about to give my order to the bartender when what do I hear behind me, but a very loud and infuriated voice say, "What the F&#@ are you doing?!"

My sister.

Guess she made it in on her own.

All she sees is my back covered with long, dark, wet hair and my bare ass hanging out for everyone to see. So I turn around (which is no better when you're naked and trying to hide it) to speak to her. I begin to explain about the dare and blah, blah, blah...none of it made sense, no one cared, particularly her. So I decided to take another tack and order us some drinks, hoping that would put her in a better mood. I turn to the bartender and give him our order and he says, "I'm sorry miss, I can't serve you unless you put more on." WHAT?!!!!!! This whole European Style Bathing thing was THEIR STINKIN' IDEA!! So if I wasn't feeling like enough of a ho in front of my sister, that pretty much clinched it. Our other friends who had arrived with her eventually approached when they saw that she wasn't going to chastise me further and we all ordered drinks - after I wrapped the towel around me, of course.

Eventually Michael came to find me. Last he knew, he sent me to the bar 15 minutes earlier, naked. Kind of an awkward introduction to say the least, "Uh...Jen, this is Michael...Michael, this is Jen." Her knowing that he's the one who put her baby sister up to this. Yeah.

Good Times.