It’s frightening. But familiar, and typical.

So the other day, I found the latest magazine discarded into the Reading Pile (aka - stacked on the counter next to toilet) and decided to thumb through it. Ads, ads, ads, a little blurb here, a little blurb there, and - the Guide To Flirting In School.

WELL then.

Clearly, this was a must read for me, as I may eventually choose to date again. While I am not in high school (obviously - and thank you for keeping your laughter and pointing to a minimum), maybe there’s some tips to help me remember how to do it, as well as to prepare me for the shennanagans my daughter might be up too. So, I read the way to ’say the flirtiest things’ for when ‘your crush has you tongue-tied’, and couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe the boys back in my day were different, but none of these lines would have worked - not that I had tried them, of course. And even if I did, would I tell you? (…probably.) Or maybe I was just too much of a dork. I leave it up to you to decide.

So here they are - what to say in different situations, levels of crush-dom, and what would have happened had I tried this in my day. Maybe your experiences were/are different - feel free to toss them in the comments if so. Or just laugh at me. It’s ok, I’m used to it!

~~~~

Section One! If you barely know him, the object is to get him to talk by asking questions that encourage him to give longer answers… So, try this when you are:

In class: Want to work with me on this? Rumor has it your an awesome lab partner!
When HS Lessa tries: uh, um, oh, shit I didn’t mean to spill that on you… it’s only a chemical burn, and you can totally have some of my butt skin for a graft if you need it…

In the Hallway: I love your shirt! Did you pick it out, or do you have a very stylish girlfriend?
Poor HS Lessa: Dude, ya mama dresses ya funny. Oh, your girlfriend picked it out? What’s the difference?

In the Lunch Line: Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a pudding guy!
Hungry Lessa: HANDS OFF MY PUDDING, ASSHEAD!

At a Game: I just got here, did I miss any action in the first quarter?
Non-athletic Lessa has nothing to say, because she got kicked off the field/court for asking her crush, the star quaterback/point guard/totally unobtainable way out of her league guy, a question in the middle of the game. Duh.

Section Two! Now, there is, of course, a different strategy if you’re already flirty friends! Now, the object is to ask him to spend time with you in a cute and casual way. Needless to say, Lessa? She doesn’t do cute too well. Let’s look in on our poor high-schooler…

In Class: Studying for this test would suck a lot less if we did it together.. you in?
Semi-Desperate Lessa: What? sure, I’ll totally give you all my notes, and let you peek at my test. That’d be awesome! (Inside dialog: OMG HE TOTALLY DIGS ME!)

In the Hallway: Admit it, you keep passing my locker so that you can walk me to class…
Shy, blushing Lessa: Uh, um, sure, I’ll carry your books. And your soda. And your gym bag. No, I don’t mind that it’s completely on the other side of the school than my class at ALL! (Inner dialog: what’s another tardy? I’ve got 10 already!)

Lunch Line: I see you eying my fries! I could be in a sharing mood if you ask nicely.
Hungry Lessa: HANDS OFFA MY FRIES YA ZITFACED FREAK! (Inner dialog: HANDS OFFA MY FRIES YA ZITFACED FREAK!)

At a Game: Executive Decision: We’re all getting pizza after the game, and you’re coming too!
Too shy to exist Lessa to her BFF: YOU ask him, I can’t! No, YOU! YOU! Fine, wanna go.. hey? where’d he go?!

Section Three! You’re in the bigtime now, he’s gonna ask you out and you know it! All you need is an opening… So, if you’re hooking up (and Mama Lessa hasn’t locked you in your room FOREVER for even thinking of things like dates and stuff) you want to be flirty and bold, give him that opportunity to ask you out.

In Class: We should celebrate when this test is over - I promise we won’t talk about photosynthesis!
Tongue Tied Lessa: So, uh, you wanna come over later? Promise we won’t talk about this test on photosynthesis… because, you know, this is algebra. hahaaha! (Inner dialog: omgiwannadie..)

In the Hallway: You were in my dream last night! I can fill you in on the details this weekend!
Poor HS Lessa: Dude, I totally had a dream about you last night! We were… hey! Wait! Why you running away?! COME BACK!

In the Lunch Line: We should go out someplace real - where the food doesn’t come on plastic trays!
Hungry Lessa: FEEEEEEEEEED MEEEEEEEEEE…. McD run? I’ll buy!

At a game: Want to make a bet? If we win, Slurpees on you, if they win, my treat!
Dorkalicious Lessa to the nth degree: OMG I’m so sorry! I spilled my slurpee there on the court, I was gonna get a rag, but you slipped on it before I could! OMG, is the bone supposed to stick out of the skin like that? It’s only the championship - you can totally beat them next year!

~~~~

So there you have it. How to get that cute guy to either ask you out, or run away as fast as his legs can carry him. Life was so much easier when we could just throw rocks at boys and they’d love us forever… Good luck!

Acne.

Just kidding - of course I mean the whole Sarah Palin “scandal” and all. I know, as an Alaskan I’m supposed to be proud that finally our politics are being seen on a greater level, finally the “Lower 48″ realizes that Alaska exists and oh yeah, is actually part of the United States and not some icebound country ‘over seas’. (Think I’m kidding? You should see our shipping costs…) But I don’t think I’m alone in feeling that this is not the way we wanted shoved into the limelight.

In case you’ve lived under a rock (and lord knows I tried…) Sarah Palin’s 17 year old daughter is pregnant, unmarried (obviously), though the plan is that she marry her baby daddy. She’s also planning on keeping the baby, and raising it with the help of Mom and Dad, hopefully (on their part) in the White House/VP quarters… where does the VP live anyway? Anyway. Sarah and family are ‘thrilled’ and can’t wait to be grandparents, yadda yadda yadda.

Here’s the thing - it came out this way, this fast, because of a rumor. If there was ever proof that rumors spread faster then truth, this is it. The reason this issue was forced to the forefront was because some gossipmongers were certain that Sarah’s youngest baby, Trig, born in April with downs syndrome, was actually Bristol’s child, and Sarah faked her pregnancy.

I know, right?

While I question a lot of Sarah Palin’s politics, I do not question that she is the mother of Trig (though I do question her naming abilities. Trig? Track? Bristol? Come ON…), or that Bristol is now pregnant with her own child, and there was no faking of anything involved. (Well.. nope. not going there.) I do question why the Republicans are quick to say this is a family matter and no one’s business, when we all know that had the shoe been on a Democrat’s foot, it would have been a free for all.

So here’s what we need to think about, as parents of teenagers. The Politics. (And oh, how I HATE politics!). Here are some of the issues - collected by my fantastic Sister In Law - that should be looked at instead of who’s knocking boots in a back seat somewhere:

Abortion - In 2002, while running for lieutenant governor, Palin called herself as “pro-life as any candidate can be.” She opposes abortion for rape and incest victims, supporting it only in cases where the mother’s life is in danger, and suggested that requiring parental consent for abortions be added to Alaska’s constitution. Palin is a member of Feminists for Life. A 2006 article in the Anchorage Daily News refers to Palin as supportive of contraception but does not go into detail on the subject.

ANWR drilling - Palin has strongly promoted oil and natural gas resource development in Alaska, including opening the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) to drilling.

Capital Punishment - Palin supports capital punishment for some crimes. She has stated that: “If the legislature passed a death penalty law, I would sign it. We have a right to know that someone who rapes and murders a child or kills an innocent person in a drive-by shooting will never be able to do that again.”

Creationism and Evolution - In a televised debate in 2006, Palin said she supported teaching both creationism and evolution in public schools. She clarified her position the next day, saying that if a debate of alternative views arose in class she would not prohibit its discussion. She added that she would not push the state Board of Education to add creation-based alternatives to the state’s required curriculum.

Global Warming - Palin does not believe that global warming is human-caused.

Marijuana - Palin opposes the re-legalization of marijuana in Alaska, stating concerns about the message re-legalization would send to her children. Palin has admitted smoking marijuana, which at one time was legal under Alaskan state law although illegal under US law.

Same-Sex Marriage - Palin opposes same-sex marriage and supported a non-binding referendum for a constitutional amendment to deny state health benefits to same-sex couples. Palin has stated that she supported the 1998 constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage.

Sex Education - Palin is a “firm supporter of abstinence-only education in schools” according to CNN in 2006. When running for governor in 2006, Palin wrote, “Yes, the explicit sex-ed programs will not find my support,” in response to a questionnaire by the Eagle Forum Alaska.

Terrorism and Iraq - Palin’s foreign policy positions were unclear at the time she was picked as McCain’s running mate. Shortly after she became governor in December 2006, the Alaska Business Monthly asked Palin for her views about troop escalations in Iraq. She replied “I’ve been so focused on state government, I haven’t really focused much on the war in Iraq. I heard on the news about the new deployments, and while I support our president, Condoleezza Rice and the administration, I want to know that we have an exit plan in place…” She has said she supports President Bush’s idea of stopping terrorism “by taking the fight to the terrorists”. Palin has also tied the war to the quest for new energy supplies, saying, “We are a nation at war and in many [ways] the reasons for war are fights over energy sources, which is nonsensical when you consider that domestically we have the supplies ready to go.”

Wildlife conservation - Palin opposed federal listing of the polar bear as an endangered species on the grounds that the “population has dramatically increased over 30 years as a result of conservation,” and supported a controversial predator-control program involving aerial hunting of wolves to increase moose populations for hunters.

Palin eloped with her high-school boyfriend, Todd Palin, on August 29, 1988, when she was 24 years old. According to her mother, the reason was simple: “It was a shock but she did it because she knew we couldn’t afford a big white wedding.” Their first son, Track, was born eight months after their wedding.

That’s not all the issues, of course, but it gives you somewhere to start. I’m not going to go into whether or not I believe Sarah Palin was the right choice - either for our Governor or for the VP slot - or if she was simply an attempt to get disgruntled Hilary Supporters to side with McCain. I’m not going to go into my views on the issues above, either. I’m going to do what so many people won’t do - encourage you to make an informed and well researched decision before you hit the polls in November, not only about McCain/Palin, but the Obama ticket as well.

And I won’t even make the obvious jokes about her abstinence only teaching working real well for them at home….

….oops.

I admit, my son got a later start then most, because I simply wasn’t ready. I know I talk a big game about not punishing my kids for my own fears, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Thing was, my husband had looked forward to this part of his son’s education, wanting to much to teach him how to drive. Having a teenage son that he loved with all his heart, and got along with, was his biggest dream, as he did not have that with his own parents. He passed away when the boy was 13, and every time we discussed some of the big milestones that Kevin had looked forward too, it broke my heart a little bit.

Thus, when his friends were getting their permits at 14, The Boy waited. When he hit 15, he waited some more, only mentioning it once or twice. I always had the excuse that he hadn’t studied the book, despite the fact he said he was ready. Finally, just before his 16th birthday, I gave in. I was positive he’d fail the test the first time.

He passed.
Dammit.

So, for the past six months, it’s been all about driving. Back and forth to work, one terrifying trip to The Sister City Of Actual Traffic, random excursions here and there. He’s done pretty well, all told, and I’ve only narrowly missed a having a heart attack about 125301237123 times. (And then there were the bruises - not that I’d ever punch my kid in the leg to give him a charlie horse for scaring the shit out of me or anything. Because that would be wrong.) The ‘oh shit!’ bar has certainly gotten it’s workout, that’s all I’m trying to say.

Now it’s September, and in just 2 weeks, he’ll be eligible for his provisional driver’s license. I know. I’m scared too. He’s practically giddy with the thought, and has been getting ‘his’ car up and running and ready. His car would be his daddy’s 74 VW Super Beetle, which means it’s a standard, and we hadn’t worked on that yet, as he wanted to practice and learn on another vehicle, and save his own transmission. Hah.

He got the bug running, and I finally broke down and took him out last weekend. I took him to the same school parking lot where I learned and showed off a bit because I could drive it and he couldn’t. (We just won’t talk about the hysterical-ness that was my fat ass shoved into that tiny car..)

Then it was his turn, and oh! The laughter! There was frustration too, but watching him try to get his big ole feet working those tiny pedals just right, learn to feel the catch in the clutch, couple that with the press of the gas, and hey! remember to steer too! - it was the most fun we’d had together in oh, at LEAST a week.

He’d pop the clutch and slam my head back into the seat, where my hair clip would dig into my head and make me swat at him. He’d stall and shake the steering wheel and cuss, as I would chuckle, and go through the steps again. He’d get it, crow in delight - and forget to slow down before rounding the end of the parking lot, and we’d all be leaning against one side of the little car - hoping it wouldn’t just topple over. He finally made a few passes that were satisfactory, and then I took it for a little spin around the neighborhood before heading home.

His friend, Z, also came over and took the bug for a spin and gave the boy a few more lessons, too. That’s them in the picture, headed to the school for more lessons. As I watched them go, and tried to get pictures without the boys completely diving out of site, I had the curious sensation of my heart sinking and flying all at once. My boys were off into the world (…down the block…) without me, striking out on their own without my presence right there to make sure things went well. Sure, he’s been riding around with his friends for months, but this was different. This time, I knew that in just a couple of weeks I could no longer stop time, I couldn’t hold him back. Soon, it would my son at the wheel, taking his life and his destiny in his own hands.

I’m terrified, yet exhilarated for him at the same time. I can only hope that I’ve taught him well, that he’ll remember, that he’ll do the same things he’d do as if I were right there, hiding in his glovebox. I hope that he behaves as well as I did when my parents set me free to drive on my own.

Damn. Now I’m REALLY glad that there isn’t a back seat in that bug.
(Just kidding, mom!)

Anyway.

Part of being mom to my kids and all their friends, is being available to them in an emergency. Last night I received a phone call from B. She was tentative, and hesitant, and I knew right away something was wrong. She made sure I had gas, before asking me quickly if I could take her and her roommate to the emergency room, because said roommate had swallowed the rest of her pain pills.

My heart stopped. I won’t lie - I broke some speed limits to get to them. I made it to their place in less then 5 minutes, and to the hospital from there in less then 10. And thus began my 7 hour stay in the Emergency Room with one of my daughters of the heart rather then blood, and her newly inducted-to-the-mama-worry-club friend.

As we waited, I gathered the rest of the story - or what we knew. She’d taken the rest of her pain pills, 21 of them, because “no one cared”. She had heard some things through the grapevine that originated with family and what they were saying behind her back. Fortunately, she decided to text two of her best friends - B included - to tell them what she’d done. She found out quickly that people DO care. B called me, I came to get them, and the text messages were flying as people checked on her, and tried to figure out what happened and why.

Then we had a surprise - a nurses aid walked in, and said she was C’s grandma. This is where the confusion began for me. She knew what had happened, she read the chart, she got our stories, she patted C’s hand, made vague accusations about C and her ex-roommate that were completely false, and then… she left.

She left.

I’m sorry, but that makes zero sense to me. C wasn’t even mine, and I was there, helping her get undressed into her gown, helping her answer questions to the nurses, the doctor, holding her hand as she cried when the Vampire Lady drew blood for toxicology. I brushed her hair back, I let her know I was there, I told her where I was going when they kicked us out so she could talk to psych, I checked on her often from the waiting room…

and her grandmother left.

Not only that - she called her father, which was something C didn’t want to happen as these family stories that set off this episode originated there. (C is 18, and the hospital didn’t call anyway by her request.)

Her dad arrived, asked at the check in desk if she was there, and the receptionist pointed him to me. As she is his daughter, I filled him in on what had happened, and what we knew at the time - her blood tests had come back normal, she could sleep this off without doing irreparable harm to her body, but we weren’t sure she’d be coming home until she was awake enough to talk to psych. He mumbled something, then paced a bit, then went out for a smoke, came back, and looked worried - and pissed. And bored.

When C was released, they gave me her paperwork. She hugged her dad, then faced him to give him a general why/what happened. Then she came back to me, so that I could take her and B come around 4am this morning. Once there, I made sure that she knew she could call me to talk anytime, that I cared, that I was there if she needed me.

I gave Dad and grandmother my number, in case they needed to find her and couldn’t, as I have access to their friends. But I didn’t expect the call I got this morning - grandma made arrangements in C’s behalf - without C’s knowledge - to move her out of state with family she hardly knows, in order to escape the problems she’s had here. I promised to pass the message along, but she’d woken me up and I wasn’t about jump to her bidding right then. I passed it on, yes, but not until I was awake, and I did not call her back with B’s number, leaving the choice of contact up to C.

I just don’t understand some parents. I don’t do the helicopter hovering thing, but I certainly don’t ignore them and their needs either. Every one of my kids knows that I will drop EVERYTHING to get to them if they need me, no matter the time of day, no matter the cost involved, no matter what else is going on. My kids need me, and I’ll be there.

If you’re not willing to do that for your kids, why the hell did you have them in the first place?

ETA - 9/1: Thank you guys for your comments. I wanted to let you know that she’s been in contact with me several times since that night. She texted me this morning, thanking me again for being there, and promising that she’ll remember I’m always here for her just as I am for all of my ‘kids’. She was going dress shopping with her cousin for her cousin’s homecoming -she sounded better, and is doing OK. Thank you for keeping her in your thoughts and prayers. We appreciate it!

Ahem. Being as I’m not your ‘normal’ mother by oh so many standards, sometimes it’s nice to find out you’re doing something right from a completely anonymous source. It’s even better when that source happens to be a teenager themselves, and they talk about how to parent them. Even better when you realize that hey - I already DO that - when they issue a challenge to parents everywhere.

Its nice to know that I totally rock.

Zen, over at Teens On Parenting, has a very interesting take on parents. She and her friends are open and honest when they give their parenting critiques and tips. After all - who better can tell you what your teenager is thinking then another teenager? Their blog was born out of an irritation with their peers’ constant complaining about how parents just don’t understand.

(And that’s SO not a new complaint, ya’ll… it existed even before DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince made it immortal with a fresh beat.)
(…what do you mean “DJ WHO?” Fresh Prince! You know, that oh so hunky Will Smith, back when he was still a geek…)
(..stop looking at me like that. I am not old.)

They are correct - it’s helpful to hear what kids their age have to say about parenting. One of the keys to understanding our kids is to listen to them, and their peers. And also, as Zen points out, to complain with them.

I’m good at this one. Take the other day, for instance. I pick up my son from work, and he kicks me out of the driver’s seat, because he’s practicing for his driver’s test next month and all. I give in with nary a fight, because he bribes me with a large diet coke. (Or rather, his manager does, because they love me. Whatever. I had caffeine!) He puts the car in gear, and takes off, and I already know. It’s been a LONG day at work for him. So I wait.

Boy: F’in M. (his other manager.)
Me: Rough day?
Boy: Dude. Corporate is coming. We had to clean stuff I didn’t even know EXISTED in the store!
Me: Oh man.. I know! I hated Corporate raids…
Boy: Hands and knees, mom! I was on the floor on my HANDS AND KNEES!
Me: Toothbrush or minibroom?
Boy: …you had to use a toothbrush?
Me: Dude. I know, right? Tile grout, behind the backwash sinks.
Boy: (smirks, laughing) I had to clean the oven beneath the oven. I didn’t even know that oven EXISTED until they pointed it out.
Me: Red light. Red light. RED LIGHT!
Boy: I see it! Gawd, mom.
Me: So - you the only one stuck on hands and knees?
Boy: Nah. All of us worked our asses off. M even cleaned.
Me: So, really can’t be too pissed at him then, right?
Boy: (glare, smirk) Shut up. I still hate him.
Me: Yeah, and? I hate kids. But I have this dirty oven at home….
Boy: (laughs) Shut up.
Me: I win.
Boy: I know. Dammit.

That’s a minor example, but you know - it works with all kinds of things. Kids don’t want us to FIX things, not right off, and especially not the little things. If we hover in helicopter style, we never give them the chance to work out issues on their own. This is why they complain to their friends - because their friends will complain with them first, then maybe offer a solution later. Why can’t we do the same? It wasn’t so long ago that we had teachers that pissed us off, things that we thought were unfair, co-workers that drive us insane (one of the MANY reasons I love working from home - no co-workers!) and even grownups that piss us off. We just need to remember that, find some common ground, and throw an understanding complaint their way. Our kids are smart - a gentle - subtle! - nudge at times is all that’s needed to help them find their own solution to any problem.

We’re not here to FIX things for them, as much as we want too. We’re here to help them learn to fix things themselves. Otherwise they’ll never leave home, and who wants THAT?

But, before he goes, since I know he knows how and all… I gotta get that not-so-little brat to clean my oven for me.

Granted, she did teach me better, but when you were a teenager, was there ANYTHING better then slipping out a cuss word on the sly when Mom wasn’t looking? It was a tiny rebellion, not even really enough to get you grounded or in BIG trouble, just enough to light the little flame of rebel that lives in all of us. Then, of course, once I moved out - it was no holds barred. I could say what I wanted, when I wanted, and @#!@ anyone who thought different! Even then, though, I didn’t really let loose in front of mom, not for years yet. (Meaning now? I don’t censor at all. My poor mother…)

Then I had kids. There’s a lot of things that change when you have kids - you’re supposed to wait till they’re sleeping to have a beer, and until they’re walking to teach them to GET your beer and make sure they can properly mix your margaritas but not until at least five. You’re supposed to child proof the house, cover the outlets, pull the knobs off the stove, pad the sharp corners, protect them from every little bump and bruise, lump and obstacle in their way. I guess I was still in my rebellious stage when I decides I wasn’t going to censor my mouth, because #@$%#$!@$ I was an adult, and @!$#%!@ what anyone thought about it! I can’t tell you how many times I got dirty looks from complete strangers as they slapped their hands over their preshush beebees widdle ears, while my mother continued to tsk.

Friends of ours took a different approach then we did - though we couldn’t understand the difference. They altered the words, so that they were more acceptable, but in doing so, they still taught them to cuss - which was almost worse. Words like “sheeppoker!” could be just as embarrassing when your three year old calls it out to that giant truck driver, as an actual cuss word would be. I never understood that - I figured it was a do or don’t situation. We chose the ‘do’ approach.

We made a point to teach our kids that there are ‘mommy/daddy words’ and ‘kid words’ and that they could curse when they were mommy/daddy themselves. Sure, they slipped sometimes, and there was that stage where my oldest daughter’s little girl voice made the words “Stand up!” sound like “Dammit!” and she chimed up with that in the middle of an award service at a very conservative church… oh my, but that was funny! Even mom laughed! But they learned, and they didn’t mimic (much), and they grew.

Into teenagers.
With potty mouths.

You’d think this would mortify me, right? Wrong. It amuses the hell out of me, truth be told. They are respectful about it, and don’t use such words in front of people in authority, their teachers, or their Nana. (Though the Boy has a habit of flipping off any camera that points his way… the last time it was Nana, and oooooooohboy. Not good. And don’t think I didn’t yell at him for it, Nana! I did!) They save it for people who they are comfortable with - their friends, me.

This is not to say that other approaches are wrong by any means. Every parent has to decide on their own what is ok, what is not, and what level they are comfortable with having in their home. My point was that the kids would hear it anyway as they grew up, so they may as well hear it from me, and learn how to deal with hearing it, or speaking it.

I think part of the growing experience when it comes to language is in it’s proper use, just like your everyday English. There is a time and place to let the profanity fly - and because I never taught them that it was wrong, but instead the times that it was inappropriate - they don’t cuss half as much as I did when I was in high school. They’ve learned to find other words to express their displeasure when the situation demands it, and that makes me fuckin’ proud as hell. (grin)

Though it still makes mom want to wash my mouth out with soap.
Sorry, Nana.
(Not really.)

Around here, your schedule in Jr. high is set in stone. If you’re lucky, you can switch from one teacher to another, if there’s room/reason/need and you have to jump through major hoops to do so. Part of the High School experience is learning to take charge of your own education, making sure you have the classes needed in line to graduate, as well as trying to get as many classes together with your friends as possible. It’s a fine line to walk, and I remember in my two years at the same school my kids attend now, feeling a little lost and doing whatever my councilors told me was needed. I can only remember one single class I switched out of in those two years - and it was my Senior year, because I decided I didn’t want weight training after all. I was a senior - I didn’t WANT a gym class!

Thus, I was a little surprised this morning to get a call from The Girl just minutes after her Papa had dropped her off at the front door. “Mom, would you be upset if I decided to drop band?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. In hindsight, the lack of practice this summer, and the fact she tried to hide from Ms. S. at orientation were a sure fire tip-off. But surprised I was, as a million things went through my head.

My daughter decided she wanted to play clarinet in the 5th grade band. We rented an instrument that year, to make sure she wanted to stick with it. The next year, for her birthday, her Daddy wheeled and dealed with a friend he worked with to get her a clarinet of her very own. He was so proud that he was able to trade one of his rifles for something for his daughter, something she really wanted. She named the clarinet Clarabelle, and was as thrilled to receive it as he was to give it.

It was the last gift he ever gave her - he passed away three weeks later.

And so, as she told me this morning that she wanted to drop out of band, there was a deeper emotional tug as well. I knew it affected her too when she said “I swear mama. I’ll still play Clarabelle at home… I just can’t handle Ms. S this year… is it ok?”

I had to think quickly, though the little waver in her voice nearly did me in. I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to change out of a class if I felt unable to handle a teacher. I was the type to just hide in the back row, grit my teeth and stumble through as best I could. I certainly wouldn’t have had the balls to call my mom and ask - though I know she would have been understanding and supportive… and probably made me stick with the class. (That may be my memory playing tricks on me - viewing life through aged teenaged glasses…) So what do I tell her? My little girl turning into a woman trying to stand on her own?

I questioned her quickly - is she doing this because her BFF is doing it? Are her reasons sound? Has she thought about it from Ms. S’s point of view? Is she taking the easy way out? Is this a decision for HERSELF and not anyone else? It was a lot to think about at 7:30 in the morning, for sure, on both our parts. In the end, however, I gave her permission to drop the class.

I’m not ashamed to say my heart broke a little bit when I did so, both for what she was giving up because of the emotional ties behind it, as well as for the fact that she was growing up so fast, and ready to make her first decision on that grown up track. Then the other reasonable though still sleepy part of the brain reminded me of something else - a benefit if you will.

In fact, the clouds parted, and I swear I saw rainbows backed by angels singing a hallelujah chorus as I realized what this really meant to me…

NO MORE BAND CONCERTS.

Maybe I should get that girl a pony….

Of course - you KNOW what happened while I was writing this, right? I received a text message from the Girl, saying she’s decided to give Ms. S. at least a year. She’s heard that she’s cooler in high school, after all. But if they don’t like it this year - they’re out next year.

Damn. There goes her pony!

Ah yes, that is a sigh of relief and contentment you just heard! Today is that glorious day for me, the one where it doesn’t bother me AT ALL to get up at 6am, because I know that I’ll be headed back to bed in just a couple of house. This morning, I gleefully texted the Boy to wake him up at 6:30 - repeating every 5 minutes until he lumbered into the living room, grabbed his hat and glared at me from under the brim … just moments before he made sure that I appreciated his newly found fashion sense, of course. Then it was back to glaring.

Meanwhile, I giggled helplessly as the ringtone my daughter asked me to record for her alarm came blaring at top volume from behind her closed door. The ringtone? My yelling what I normally have to yell when she has been ignoring me for 45 minutes and she’s late: GET THE EFF UP, NOW! My vocal cords are completely safe this year thanks to that lovely little recording device. What really set off the giggling though was the sounds of her floundering to find her phone on the dresser and turn it off. I can get used to these kind of wake ups!

The girl didn’t seem nervous at all this morning as they headed down to have breakfast with Papa before school. (I know. I don’t even feed my kids breakfast on school days - haven’t for the past 10 years, starting the 11th. Long story - we’ll just say that I’m the luckiest mom alive, and yes, you can be jealous! It’s normal.) After their orientation night, she seems to have found her footing, and is ready to branch out on her own with only 5 or 10 of her closest friends at her side.

The boy wasn’t nervous either. Just glaring. But he totally owes me when he comes home - and I expect him to arrive here with a Diet Coke in hand. You see, I already received a call from his councilor. My boy doesn’t like math. He does really well in it, but when given the choice between Geometry and Personal Finance, he wanted the later, hands down. They didn’t give it to him, so he went to see about it being changed and thus the call. Was I ok with this change? The Personal Finance classes were pretty full already….

So I went to bat for him. I explained that I know he doesn’t have college in his sights, he’s a different plan, and I think that Personal Finance lessons would be VERY beneficial for him in the long run. I asked that she try to fit him in if she could, because he’ll never use Geometry again, while the PF class will come in handy when I kick his little butt out of my house 2.3 minutes after graduation. She said ok, then hung up.

(I think I scared her a little bit. That makes me happy.)

I still found myself writing down the information for the Middle School, automatically, even though both my older children are in High School. I think that I’m in denial - I’m not old enough for this kind of stuff to happen. I just graduated last month, for heavens sake (where last month = 20 years ago) so I couldn’t POSSIBLY be old enough to have not one, but TWO high-schoolers in my house!

I know I’ll just have to get used to it - can’t stop time, and all that. Just don’t remind me that my son being a junior means he’ll be graduating next year. I’m not ready to admit THAT much yet….

And I’m not that way, at all. Which is exactly why I was so stunned to find myself surrounded by not only “my” 6 teenage girls, but 100 other freshman at the orientation last night.

It may or may not be apparent, but I’m usually not a fan of other people’s kids. Especially in large, noisy groups. I don’t like crowds, and people tend to get upset if you give their kid the stink eye for misbehaving, and it’s practically painful for me to keep my mouth shut for long periods of time. So, MY intention was to ignore freshman orientation, as it was for the teens, and parental attendance was not necessary. Then my daughter suddenly got worried.

“Mom? Her (the youngest) thing is tomorrow right? So you’ll go with me tonight, right? I want you there… please??!”

I’m often mean (just ask them) but I’m not completely heartless, so I said I would, made quick arrangements to have my sister watch my youngest and our schitzo dog, and went over to the orientation with her. And 5 of her best giggly girly friends. I then found myself holding all their purses, as they ran off together (rebelling against the ‘dot’ system that had put them in different groups and instead opting to hang together) on the various activities planned for the freshman that night, by the “E-group” of seniors.

I sat there, alone, with various knitted objects in my lap, with nary a teenager in sight, just some of the teachers who gave me a sympathetic nod. I listened to the bells ring every 15 minutes and cringed a little inside. I didn’t like high school the first time, and don’t EVEN remind me how awful I felt dropping off my son for his first day of high school… and now I have another one joining the ranks? Life is officially NOT FAIR.

About halfway through I was able to make my escape due to A - a personal matter that needed immediate attention, and B - Nana and Papa offered me Triple Chocolate Ice Cream if I could get there. If it were just A - I probably would have stuck it out a little longer, but we’re talking Triple Chocolate Ice Cream! A girl has her limits, you know…

I did make sure to check on the girls, give them back their purses, and give hugs where they were wanted/needed before I left. As I stepped outside of the door, though, I paused to look back for just a moment and watch my daughter. She’d gotten over her nervousness, and was huddled with her friends, giggling, as they moved to the gym for their next activity. There was laughter, smiles, hair flips, sassy remarks, and a variety of fashion choices that made me cringe a little inside… but most of all, there was the very beginnings of confidence.

She had needed me, just for that little bit, and I was there. I didn’t, and won’t, hover, but I’ll always be ready to drop everything and be there to back her up when she needs it - even if it’s only to be in the same building for a half an hour while she gets her bearings.

It seems that C wanted to talk, and in the interest of ‘preserving their friendship’ she was already ready to let this whole Dating My Son thing go. The Boy is actually handling it fine, he just shrugged and was pretty “whatever” about the whole thing. It was, after all, only a few days. This opened up some fun conversations though as we talked through it on the way to his friends house. To give you an idea of just how irreverent a mother I am, here’s how it went.

Me: So, you ok?
(Note: This is not the irreverent part. I’m not THAT heartless.)
Him: Yeah, I’m fine.
Me: Think maybe she got spooked by Z and B’s breakup and how they’re not really friends anymore?
Him: s’possible. She didn’t really say. She just wants to be sure we stay friends.
Me: Guess that’s ok. NOT Friends with Benefits though.
Him: But MOOOOOOOOOOM! (chuckle, chuckle)
Me: school starts wednesday though. Lots of new girls. Without boyfriends.
Him: yeaaaaaaah. (smirky grin that I love so much - because it’s just like mine.)

Me: You know, I think the NEXT time you get a girlfriend, you should at least be able to take her out on an official date before she breaks up with you.
Him: Yeah, that’d probably be best.
Me: Unless the kissing is just REALLY that bad…
Him: (…blush.)
Me: I meant YOUR kissing, by the wa….OW! What was THAT for?!
Him: because.
Me: harumph. Fine. We won’t discuss the quality of your kissing then. Whatever.

Me: You know, your papa will be disappointed.
Him: Why?
Me: he had a whole bunch of jokes ready with her name.
Him: awww. I’ll find him another good one.

(A car speeds by, with a couple girls waving at him - he was driving during these conversations, did I not mention that? Driving lessons will be covered another day. When my heart resumes normal speed.)

Me: someone you know?
Him: Nope. Someone I might wanna know.
Me: You’ve been broken up for THREE WHOLE HOURS… and you’re ALREADY trolling?
Him: what can I say..
Me: You DOG you. Your daddy would be SO proud.
Him: I know, huh?
Me: (groans.) I’m doomed. DOOMED!
Him: heh.heh.heh.

So there you have it. A prime example of how to talk to your teenagers. Well, if your kids are my kids, anyway. And if you were me… ok - so this is just an example of the kind of tomfoolery that happens even when we talk of semi-sensitive matters.

Just wait till you see how I handled THE talk…