Parenting Teens

So, remember the other day, when I encouraged other parents to go support their kids at concerts, even band concerts, even when they were in high school? And remember how I preened because I’d been to almost every one of my kids concerts? And you were all like “oh give me a break, no one’s that’s perfect!”? Yeah, remember that?

Yeah. That. Now? I’m having an f’in Monday.

You see, there are SOME concerts I don’t go too - namely those that involve Honor Band/Choir in cities farther then 20 minutes away. I have good excuses, of course - I go to ALL THE OTHER ONES, we have a dog with separation anxiety that can’t be left alone, there’s my other kids to think of, the car isn’t in tiptop condition and some trips I just don’t trust it on, no really I don’t want to chaperon a bunch of kids that aren’t mine, that you won’t let me beat throw off the bus throw things at, you know, like punches help ensure good behavior, in my own way, of course. (Oh stop, I’m kidding. Sort of.) Point is, there are a lot of reasons why I usually skip those long distance concerts. (Though, to be COMPLETELY honest, had someone paid my way? I’d have happily gone to the ones two years ago in Spain/France. Just sayin’.)

Well, it’s time for Honor Choir, and my 14 year old daughter (naturally) made it, and it’s in Homer this year - a two hour drive away. The permission slip came home last week, I signed it, and returned it - forgetting that this time? ALL THE INFO WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PERMISSION SLIP. The permission slip that was just turned in. That had all the info on it. Like time, place, bus info, etc. Yeah. THAT permission slip.

Which brings us to this morning.

In typical Monday fashion, I drug The Girl out of bed, with force and grumbled words and muttered threats, and sent her on her way for breakfast at Papa’s, and a ride to high school. I sent the youngest down after that… and got the phone call at 7:45am, just moments after The Girl had walked into her school.

My daughter. In tears. Honor Choir. Bus gone already. Mom, we forgot. Mom I don’t know what to do! Mom…

Ugh. I’ve been doing this parent thing for over 16 years now, and I’d NEVER EVER NOT ONCE fucked up a field trip. Not even the early morning bus rides. I make sure I have secondary parents to call and make sure we don’t sleep through the alarm, I set more then one alarm, sometimes I even STAY UP ALL NIGHT just to make sure my baby gets on that bus at some god awful hour in the morning, in the dark, to see some wonderful Alaskan thing or another, to sing with other schools, to play instruments with them, whatever. I NEVER FORGET.

I forgot.
And she was crying.
And I was crying.
Oh, the tears!

So, I asked the secretary if I were able to get the girl child to Homer, if they’d let her sing? They called the teacher’s cell phone, and no answer. They were dubious. We were dubious. My decision was already made. I told the girl to wait there, I’d be there in a minute. I called the sister (yes, more tears!) and woke her up, and got her to take the dog for the day. I called the Papa to let him know what was going on, and assured him that the car would make it even if I HAD TO PUSH IT. And if you knew the size of that last hill? You’d realize what a feat that would be! I grabbed the laptop in case I had to stay because they wouldn’t let her on the bus, and I had drive her home too. I grabbed a coat, put on my shoes (sandals, no socks) my bra (impressive, I know) and dashed out the door.

Without even COFFEE first.

The girl and I, we had fun on the way down. We reasoned that even if they don’t let her sing by some EVIL TWIST of ass-biting MONDAY type fate, we would spend the day together in homer, laughing and chatting and giggling as we always do when we’re out and about. We chatted, and giggled, and threatened to “Keel you. keel you ded. like with a rock or sumpin!” (Don’t ask - it’s a teenager thing! It’s on a sticker, apparently. It’s also hysterical when you’ve only had 2 hours of sleep and are on an emergency road trip. And have the mind of a teenage boy. Trust me.)

We had almost gotten to Homer, I was making pretty damn good time. (Going Exactly The Speed Limit. Honest. (ha!) Though we did mysteriously hit a time warp that had us making the 1.5-2hr trip in just 1hr 15 minutes or so…) I called Mom to make sure I knew how to get to the high school, then I called the high school to get notice to our Choir teacher that I was coming, she WOULD be there - just an hour late or so. Everything was looking up! They couldn’t possibly tell her she couldn’t sing once she got there. It was going to be OK!

I am driving slowly through Homer, looking for the right turn off for the school, and hey! what’s that? Oh yes. SIRENS AND SHINY LIGHTS. Behind me. Following me. Pulling. Me. Over.

Crap.

As slowly as I was going - it was 10 miles over the limit (25mph? I the middle of town? SRSLY Homer?!), my taillight was out, AND he caught me trying to slip on my seatbelt without him seeing me. Heh. Heh. Heh. He was a nice guy, and I got ticketed for the lack of seat belt, and warned for everything else, AND he gave me directions to the school.

Right across the street.
I KNOW RIGHT? Almost in the clear. ALMOST.

We got her to the school, I turned off the car, hopped out of said car, and walked real fast (I don’t run. Ever.) inside, and checked in, getting her into the theater with the Choir at 9:20am, not even a full hour late. Whew. They assured me she could ride the bus home, pointed me to the bathrooms, and the nearest coffee shop, and after a hug and exchange of lunch money with the girl, I walked out.

And couldn’t see my car. It wasn’t where I’d left it. Ummmmm… yeah. Shift the gaze over, and hey, there it is, nestled all gently, bumpers sweetly kissing, the Big Ass SUV that was parked across the way from me.

I KNOW, RIGHT?!

Apparently, I had neglected to put the damn thing in park, and it went on a nice slow little roll, until it bumped bumpers with the BASUV about 30 feet behind it. Whoops? So I checked it out - no scratch, no paint, just a rubber to rubber kiss, so I did the natural thing. Jumped into my car and got the hell outa there!

Straight to the coffee shop - driving a very careful 25 mph WITH my seatbelt on, where I settled down with an IV bag of Mocha, a blueberry muffin, and Scooter - my Laptop. I discovered that what once was free wi-fi all over the Homer Area, now cost at least $5 for 4 hours of use. I grumbled, paid my $5, and then? It wouldn’t. even. load. my email. OMG so slow.

It was time to give up. After I finished my coffee, I decided not to bother going around for photo ops - though I did take the one above at the Top Of The Hill, because oh so pretty! - and headed home. Driving the speed limit. (mostly.) With my seatbelt on. Singing at the top of my lungs to stay awake. Jittery from the coffee. Only to get home, get lunch, get my dog, eat and GO TO BED.

The End.

Happy ‘effin Monday, ya’ll. May Karma treat you Kinder than me!
(and you can bet she won’t miss the damn bus TOMORROW. Don’t mind me - I’ll be sitting at home, wrapped in bubblewrap, just in case.)