The great thing about Halloween is you can dress up as anything you want. It’s the one day a year that you can dress up as a princess, a pirate, or even a bunny, if you’re one of those girls. I’ve always thought Halloween was funny in that you teach your kids not to talk to strangers until the one night a year you go to their house and ask for candy. I’m sure that’s pretty confusing for a kid.
I wish this was the only day I was dressed as a single mom of three with a saggy chest and grey hair; and then the rest of the year I was a happily married stay at home mom. Unfortunately, I’m not even that on Halloween. So this Halloween I’m dressed as the mom of a masquerade ball girl, a beer wench (or tavern girl), and a punky pirate.
Shelby’s first Halloween she was a panda bear. She was so cute, but she hated the head. I think it was heavy and she didn’t understand. This year it was her first Halloween to go trick or treating by herself with friends. I was so nervous. I made her carry her phone and call me when she got home. It all turned out okay, of course, but it’s the letting go that’s always the problem.
I was not a good kid. From the time I was in 9th grade and got mixed up with the wrong group, my childhood was on a down hill roll.
The good thing is, I’m not raising me. Thank God. I’m raising Shelby. In 9th grade, Shelby is in the musical, goes to church and youth group, girls bible study, and dances two nights a week. Shelby isn’t going behind the skating rink with her loser friends and hanging out. She doesn’t even go skating.
If I spent the night with a friend, we would sneak out her window in the middle of the night and wander the neighborhood looking for trouble or boys. Shelby’s staying up all night talking with her friends and play xbox. Or at least I hope she is. I pray she is. How do you give someone freedom while holding on tightly? Seriously if it were up to me, none of them would go to sleepovers or leave the house or have friends or go anywhere. My family would be in a bubble if I let myself think about it too much.
I remember being 12 and going trick or treating with one of my friends. Not a group of friends, just one of them. We dressed in our pajamas and walked around my neighborhood. Now my daughter and a group of four friends want to go trick or treating by themselves. She’s 14 now, but last year we had a party and I went with them. No one seemed to mind and I wasn’t annoying about it, but Kasey and Lindsey were there too. This year, she’s going to someone else’s party and parents will be at the party, but not take them trick or treating. I have anxiety. Is asking her to call me every 15 minutes too much? I’m already talking to her about where she’s going to carry her phone. Of course she doesn’t have pockets.
I’m trying so hard not to pass all my anxiety on to them or they’ll never leave the house. I squash down all my fears and encourage her to go to the party. Lindsey’s going to one too, but I know the little girl’s dad is taking them trick or treating so I’m completely fine with that. It’s when they get on their own that I start feeling panicky. When they start having to make decisions for themselves, and it’s only because I made such bad ones for me. Very, very bad ones and I’m thankful every day that I’m alive because looking back at those bad decisions, I have no idea how I am.
So I gave her all the run down of no drinking, no drugs, no boys, if she gets into trouble to call me. I know I’m overpreparing her because her friends don’t drink or do drugs, but I’m sure my mom thought mine didn’t either. This is where my sister told me I’m not raising me. Again, Thank.God. Shelby’s a good kid, however, I’m afraid Kasey might be me. Get ready for that custom fit bubble!
This is a sensitive subject, especially right now, so I’m going to tread lightly.
Kasey’s Spanish teacher came up to us one afternoon and hugged Kasey and said, “I don’t like your kids at all.” I said, “Yeah, me neither”, and we got a good laugh about it. She stood there a couple more minutes and told me how much she loved Kasey and how great she was in class, and on and on. I was like, “What? My Kasey?”, but it was. My Kasey is chatty and she drives teachers crazy, but I guess not in Spanish class.
So then a few minutes later she came back to make sure I understood that she was just kidding about not liking Kasey, and that she really did love my kids (What, now Lindsey’s good at school too? What’s going on?). I’m in an alternate universe apparently. I said of course I knew she was kidding; and then as a joke, I told her I was just kidding too when I said I didn’t like my kids either. She hugged Kasey again and said, “Let’s just say if they’re ever missing, they’re at my house. I won’t be able to explain it to my parents, but I would love it.” I laughed and told her that she would bring them back as soon as she got them home. There was some more funny banter. Ha ha ha……you get the idea.
I know exactly what she was going for. Once I was trying to tell a friend how cute and chubby I thought her baby was, and I ended up telling her you could cook him like a Christmas ham. I obviously wasn’t going to eat her baby, but it was something I could never take back. So, of course, I wasn’t offended. I know my kids would never go home with their Spanish teacher, and I know she was completely joking; but she came back over again that day (why in the world was I there so long?) to make sure I knew she was kidding. I said, of course I did and that she wouldn’t want them, ha ha ha.
How much laughing do I need to do to get you to understand that I know you’re only kidding? Apparently a lot because that was the beginning of last week, and when she saw me this Wednesday, she wanted to make sure I wasn’t uncomfortable about what she said about stealing my kids. She said someone had overheard her and was concerned that I didn’t know she was kidding. Well, then I felt awful and I hope she didn’t get in trouble. I said, again, “Of course you were kidding, I wasn’t offended at all.” And I wasn’t offended, but it’s because I don’t think like that. Then I thought, it’s a sad day in America where you can’t joke about liking someone’s kids so much that you want to take them home; but you really can’t. It’s sad that we live in a world where that’s a reality.
I would rather live in a world where everyone watched out for your kids. Where they went out after breakfast to play and came home when the streetlights came on. But it’s not. Unfortunately, it’s a world where you can’t even walk home from school anymore. My kids used to walk home from school every day. It was five blocks; and while I wouldn’t let them walk if it was just one of them, on more than one occassion someone has come home first because they were fighting with the other one. Shelby started walking home from school by herself in Kindergarten. At the time we only lived eight houses away, but still, I guess you just never know. That’s a sad day in America or anywhere.
I love the Fall. So far, I’ve made no bad decisions (yet), the weather has been awesome, and I’m looking on the bright side of all the financial issues I’m having. Although I did have to cancel our fall break trip to Arizona. You’ll also be surprised to learn that I actually watched a football game. Well, half of one, and OU ended up getting beat by Texas. But I watched nonetheless.
I get on these kicks like no TV Monday through Thursday, chore lists, church, exercising, etc. Church has been a big winner in my house and we’ve been going consistently for three and a half years. I love our church and our lives are better since we started going. The chore list, however, went the way of the dodo since I can’t afford an allowance and no one was doing it anyway. The exercise plan (Operation Get Moving) has been going for 10 months strong, and I’m on my 12th week of working out in the morning. I know you’re sick of hearing it, but it has to be said so I don’t quit.
My new kick is slow cooking. I love my crock pot. I go through a ton of recipes online looking for stuff to make in my crock pot and I love planning meals. There’s just something about putting a meal in the crock pot in the morning and having it come out at dinner time completely done that makes me feel like a little homemaker. It’s always so good. I’ve made lasagna, ravioli, swiss steak (not a hit at my house) and beef tips and potatoes. Oh, and a chocolate pudding cake. Yes, you heard me. I’m not proud, but it was delish.
My other kick is tennis. I love playing tennis. My sister and I have been playing since we were kids walking up to the water plant in the summer to play. I wonder now if we even thought to take water. Shelby and I rode our bikes to the court Sunday after church and played for almost two hours. This was after playing for two hours on Saturday. I’m so sore today, but also feel good. I really love that Shelby is almost good enough to where we can actually play and not have to chase balls so much. It’s surprisingly hard to find someone at your level to play. A few years ago I was playing all the time with my friend, Danielle. I think that’s what I miss most about her, she could keep up with my mad tennis skillz.
As for the other reason that this is my favorite time of the year: the start of the Fall Television Season. That will have to be another blog. But let me just say this: I’m enjoying Flash Forward very much, I don’t understand why Christian Slater can’t get on a good series, and I don’t know why Castle is still working with the police department even after his book has been published. I’ll be back for more of the rest of my Fall Television Favorites.
Kasey’s class got a new student. Her name is in the gemstone family, so let’s call her Tourmaline, although Sapphire (with two p’s) might work too. Anyway, so Tourmaline started about a month ago and she came in with this language and attitude like you’ve never seen. Kasey goes to a charter school and her class has 20 girls, which I thought would be a good thing, I’ve found that it’s actually a lot because girls are really mean. There was a mean girl in her class before, but when Tourmaline came in, the other girls saw what mean really could be and they started being friends with original mean girl because they realized she really wasn’t that mean after all.
I can only imagine how hard it was for Tourmaline to come into a new school and I understood why she acted like she did at first. She had come out of a traditional middle school and she came in talking tough. But some of the language she used was so vulgar I had to explain it to Kasey and tell her why we don’t talk that way. However, that was at least a month ago and it should have settled down by now. It hasn’t. She’s just gotten worse.
So yesterday, Tourmaline was hit in the back of the head with a deflated basketball. She saw Kasey running (she was playing with another group) and she picked up the ball, ran after her, and when Kasey turned around, she hit her right in the face with the ball. Kasey started crying. She didn’t deck her, she didn’t throw it back at her, she just started crying. Here’s where my sister said I’m raising wussies. I’m on the record as being non-confrontational, but have I left my children completely incapable of taking care of themselves? In Kasey’s defense, a teacher saw what happened and ran over before it could escalate further, but Kasey wouldn’t have hit her back. And should she have?
Now I don’t know if I should sign her up for self-defense, maybe I should sign all of us up. No one really gets picked on, maybe Lindsey a little, but would I rather my daughter be the bully? I understand that she needs to defend herself, but do I want her hitting someone back and being violent too? I just don’t know. Parenting is really hard.
So I sent a strongly worded e-mail to the teacher about my concerns on how the situation was handled and the fact that I wasn’t notified and was assured that the issue was being taken care of and that I would be notified in the future if there were any problems between Kasey and Tourmaline. It was also forwarded to the discipline director to answer my specific questions about the incident in question. And I told Kasey to stay away from Tourmaline. I guess I’ll also look into some self-defense classes.
I love my mother. My mother cries at everything. Christmas Eve service, Amy Grant concerts, the Christmas concert at OCU, church services, days that end in Y, you get the picture. It’s really one of her charms, and she has many. Hopefully that gets me out of the dog house. So I was sitting at Wicked, it’s the end of the first act, they’re singing Defying Gravity, and imagine my surprise. All of the sudden Elphaba is given her cape and she elevates over the stage, the lighting is beautiful, her voice is amazing, and I start tearing up. I’ve turned into my mother.
Wicked was amazing. It really is the story of how we perceive what is good and what is evil. Blonde, blue-eyed, bubbly means she’s got to be good. Green, wears black, not bubbly means she’s got to be bad. The truth about it was that Elephaba wasn’t really evil, and in turn, Galinda (with a Ga) wasn’t really all that good. Sure she was cute and an awesome singer, but when it came time to stand up for what was right, she decided to go a different path. Okay, so I know it’s deep for a musical and Lindsey just knows that Fieryo was cute (Yum!) and Dorothy was there at the end.
Side note: It’s hard to get all dressed up and then sit still. Even my pants were scratchy, so I can imagine how hard it was for her in her dress with her wool coat. She might have been too young, but you couldn’t have told her that and I wouldn’t have wanted to leave her home.
All in all, I’m probably 10 years (or whenever they won their Tonys) too late, but it really was a wonderful musical. We had such a great time.
I’m putting the brakes on being broke. I’m so sick of being broke. Dave Ramsey said there’s a difference between being poor and being broke. He said “poor” is a mind-set. I don’t have a poor mind-set even though I’ve never had a lot of money. Growing up with a single mom, we struggled; now I’m a single mom, and we struggle. This was really one of those cycles I wanted to break, I just hope it’s not too late.
The monkey has been giving Shelby money on the side and sneaking it to her so his person won’t know about it. He said it’s for her lunch, but I pay for her lunch; so now he’s paying for parking and gas today as I take the girls to Wicked. I bought the tickets in January for Shelby’s birthday, but now that the day is finally here I wasn’t sure how we were going to get there or pay for parking. Darn you, Verizon Wireless!
I’ll be back this afternoon with my full review. We’re so excited and it’s Lindsey’s first time at the theater since she didn’t get to see Rent. Everyone’s getting dressed up in their Sunday best and it’s Sunday so it all works out.
I just want you (my three readers) to know that I realize I don’t have problems. I am fully aware of the fact that an overdrawn bank account and a leaky kitchen sink do not constitute a “storm” to most people. When my daughter complains about something, I usually see if she wants to hear about the families in Africa that have to drink out of the same river they’re washing their clothes in. She never does. One day she was complaining so much that I told her I was going to find video of it. Yet here I am, complaining about my overdrawn bank account and how much I hate Verizon Wireless. The problem is that I’m on always on the edge, especially with our finances. I never feel secure enough where one small mistake doesn’t send me over the edge. I long to live like that, but I’m not there yet.
There are really great things in my life. My daughter has abandoned her Facebook fauxmance and decided that boys are dumb. Yay! I’m smack dab in the middle of my 10th week of working out at 5:50 am. Yes, that’s AM and if you know me then you know what an accomplishment that is. My friend, Anna, came over on Friday and decorated Kasey’s room (insert picture here) and it looks awesome. Kasey loves it so much. I’m praying daily for my church’s 40 days of community and also praying for forgiveness for my whining. I have so many good things and so many blessings that I feel really bad when I complain about something. I just wanted you (my three readers) to know that I get sick of hearing from me too.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I might be a fair-weather Christian. Sort of like a fair-weather Sooner fan; but much, much worse. I am a single mom of three girls and my budget is tight. So tight it squeaks (or squeals, really) when something happens that it’s not ready for. Like Verizon Wireless putting through two payments when they were only authorized for one. Now my bank account is shot to hell and neither Verizon NOR my bank is in too big a hurry to help me out. Both of them have to “investigate” before they can give it back, as if I actually authorized both payments; which I never would because now I’m in the hole with no light even shining in.
I’ve been walking around with a feeling of dread the past few weeks. Things had been really great….too great, I started thinking. So then the dread started and the kitchen sink started leaking. We thank God every night for the roof over our head and the food on our table. In all reality (and thanks to the beef my mom brought me a few months ago), we’re not going to go hungry or anything like that, and I truly believe that God has been providing for us; but when something like this happens, I just feel like my whole world has fallen apart, and I hate having NO money. It’s so easy to say, “I will praise you in the storm”, until the storm comes; and then I feel like a failure as I collapse-cry over a glitch in my bank account that feels like the end of the world, even though logically I know it’s not.
There are several things I don’t know. For instance, I don’t know why the Kardashians are famous. I don’t know one Lady Gaga song, although I did see Jimmy Fallon have Jude Law read the lyrics from something called Poker Face and it was hysterical to watch, but only because of Jude Law. What I do know is that God has and will continue to provide for us. And though my faith seems to waiver, I know that we will be taken care of. I just wish I was a stronger example for my kids on how a Christian handles the storms. On a smaller note, I also wish my Verizon contract was over as I now hate them.
The monkey (my ex-husband, for my new reader) told me I was out of touch with kids. He said I didn’t know what was out there and what kids had to deal with these days. Seriously, oh wise one? He left us four years ago, when did he decide he was so in touch with kids?
This all stems from a rumor going around our house that his 14 year-old step-daughter/2nd cousin (yes, it’s that trashy) was getting a tattoo in December. Nothing says, “He is born” like a fairy on your ankle. I told my girls that I was sure that wasn’t going to happen because 14 year-olds don’t get tattoos. They told me this every time they came home from his house, because every time they went over there, she told them she was getting a tattoo.
Side bar: I am not against tattoos, or piercings for that matter; but I don’t like anything at my current age that I liked at the age of fourteen. I just can’t imagine that anyone is mature enough at 14 or 15 to make any decisions about something that’s permanently going to be on their body. Just my opinion, people. Call me crazy.
Also, a little background on this particular 14YO: she was suspended the second week of school for fighting; she was in trouble almost all last year for ditching; and she’s flunking, or at least doing poorly, in all her classes. Her mother was 18 when she had her, she was her second child, and her mother was in prison for 6 years of her life, so she’s really only had her back for about four years. She doesn’t, however, have custody of her other two children. Oh yes, it just keeps getting trashier.
So he called me one day, because that’s what he does, and I finally remembered to tell him that he needed to tell his kids that she wasn’t getting a tattoo, and that she was just kidding because they really believed her. I told him that if it was true then it would be the worst case of bad parenting I had ever seen, and I’ve seen some of their bad parenting. Long pause….”well, Chris, it was either that or a tongue piercing.”
I said, “How about just saying no?” I mean, really, when did it become a decision of either a piercing or a tattoo? How about: your grades suck, you ditch school, and you’re always in trouble for fighting, I’m going to go with “NO”? Not, “Okay, piercing or tattoo!”. But even with a tongue piercing she could take it out when she realizes how stupid it was and her teeth are all chipped. Here’s where he told me that I don’t know what’s out there. I don’t know what kids today are like. Golly, I’m so glad I don’t have any to raise since I’m so out of touch. I’m glad he’s the expert and he only sees them twice a week.
Of course, you moron, I do know what’s out there. Shelby has, on more than one occasion, told me how bad she could be and how happy I should be that she’s not like other kids at school. She has said that I’m lucky she’s as good as she is. Modest much? Actually, she’s lucky that she’s as good as she is, but I do know that I am too. This is just more garbage he subjects us to that I counteract. I’m so glad everything is a life lesson for what we don’t do, and my kids now know that there’s no way in…the world that they’re getting a tattoo or any other piercing besides their ears. I just didn’t know before that I needed to address this with my nine year-old. Again, call me crazy.
