What THE????…… Teenage Syndrome Revisited

Hey__what_the_hell__by_Roswell63.jpg Shit! image by yoohooduckie

Okay, so - I’m just getting home, opening the door, taking my key out of the lock, and my 12 year old demon attacks me with the largest hug I’ve received since she graduated kindergarten, and says VERY LOUDLY…. HI MOM!!!  Okay - that’s not normal.  Generally, she is a fairly retiscent child who doesn’t have much use for physical affection for her mother, no matter how cool she may be.  Okay, no red flags yet, but that was odd.

Then T - her best bud/sister is right in front of me - mind you, I’m not quite two steps into the house - there’s a leak in the upstairs bathroom and I need to handle it RIGHT NOW….  It’s really bad - note the gravity of the situation, and the seriousness of her face, even though you can’t see it, work with me.  My response - Okay, let me get in the door, take my shoes off and put my purse and lunch container away….. As I’m walking from the kitchen back to the stairs to go check out the “leak”….. I see….

 

TWO BOYS SITTING ON MY COUCH!!!  Are you SERIOUS???!!!????  Oh HELL NO!  Yep, this was my response….

I B-line for the living room - point toward the back door and command the boys to GET OUT NOW!  I turn around to two girls, aged 11 and 12, who are not the girls I saw when I walked in the door.  They’ve been replaced with open-mouthed, saucer-sized eyes, shock victims, expecting me to explode all over the living room.  They are not quite sure what is going to happen at this point because I had slammed the door so hard, I wondered if the window pane would have broken out - careless of me, but heck, I was pissed…..  The order to them was to GET UPSTAIRS, NOW!  That all I could say.  They had bold-faced lied to me, tried to distract me and re-route me in order to sneak homies 1 & 2 out the back door.  Are you kidding me?  They instantly disappeared and I followed them up the stairs, not sure of what I was going to do or say….  All I could say was “I will not tolerate lying” and slammed their door for emphasis. 

Back downstairs, I sat on the couch and was just completely unsure of my plan of attack.  Do I break out a belt?  Do I berate them for hours?  Do I use the half my education in psychology to attempt an understanding of what/why/where/how things had happened?  Better yet, let’s text demon #2’s dad and see what his response is…..  “the girls are in BIG trouble.  there were 2 boys here when I got home.”  This generated an immediate phone call…  ‘WHAT?’…..  At this point, I just had to laugh.  It wasn’t really that long ago that I was sneaking around trying to be grown, but what is the proper punishment in this situation????

We ended up talking to them, with a belt in hand to emphasize the severity of the situation.  I dropped the “I’m so disappointed” line which generated a few tears and we touched on violence that could occur, and definitely let them know they were grounded.  I’m not sure if this is the right way to handle this situation.  What do you think??? Please share.  I’ve been through some teeny-bopper stuff before, but it’s been a while, and this is my one and only baby….  Ugh.  They’ve cleaned my house top to bottom and today they’re working on his - we’ll see what other kinds of torturous hell we can incorporate into their grounding….. Anyone got a “how to” guide on this crap?  It’d be nice to read the Clif notes….

So, yeah, I’m a flirt

 flirtt.jpg flirt image by dansgirl27

This is pretty much the truth.  I can’t help myself.  I am DEFINITELY a flirt.  I don’t know how this came about or why, but it’s been true since my very first exposure to the opposite sex unrelated by blood.  I am coy and giggly.  I bat my eyelashes and appear demure.  I do my best to find absolutely everything hilarious and I attempt to be witty and intelligent at the same time.  This, my friends, is NOT easy. 

Why, you ask, do I flirt?  Well, let me tell you, it’s just plain fun AND  I can’t control it.  I can be standing in line at the morgue, cuz that’s what all the cool kids do in their spare time, and see someone who appears to be remotely nice, intelligent, handsome or just breathing, and I will speak to them.  Generally it’s something that causes a giggle to erupt from my own throat, and a crinkle of my eyes with something resembling a smile. 

How does that happen, you ponder.  You see, I am starting to think it’s in my DNA, that’s my genetic makeup for those of you not aspiring to a life in Biology.  Basically, I was born with it.  I would go so far as to say it comes from my family, since both my sister and brother are shameless flirts as well.  They catch more attention walking down the sidewalk on an overcast rainy day in Tacoma, Washington than Halle Berry does butt nekkid on Rodeo Drive shopping for sunglasses.  Okay, maybe not that much, but close.

This is NOT to say that I mess around on my man.  I am a very good girlfriend and I don’t stray unnecessarily, but I can only be who I am, and that definitely includes a flirt.  It really doesn’t matter where I’m at, work, softball, class, grocery store.  I can appreciate a nice looking man as much as anyone, and I actually enjoy the attention.  I like to be considered cute and funny and nice.  It’s an ego-boost, and I think that my man should appreciate that as well.  It means he’s not dating some gross, shy, introvert, emo girl who has the confidence level of a brown paper bag.  He’s got someone who can carry herself in a manner that invites conversation and who looks approachable.  I’d take that in a man over the homeboy with the don’t-eff-with-me attitude any day. 

Come on over, let’s talk….**wink, wink**

Teenage syndrome

K from Gizmo to Spike

I’m not 100% sure I’m ready for my daughter to become the American monster known as a teenager.  I can see her morphing before my eyes and it becomes more and more evident that the infection is spreading.  Her responses are becoming monosyllabic and her moods swing like a pendulum on a 5 second interval.  The tears fall without warning, conscious thought, or purpose - however remote.  Occasionally I catch a glimpse of the original child that I have encouraged to grow and learn beyond her dreams, but that is too rare to account for.  She has become Spike from Gremlins, and is no longer the cute little Gizmo I have come to love.  I swear I didn’t feed her after midnight or get her wet - she did this all on her own.

Enter - Boys.  This is the key to the hell I am entering and I can sense it like a momma bear senses you coming near her baby cubs.  And yes, I’ll claw your eyes out and rip your head off too, if you pose a threat to my little monster.  But no, I don’t want this to start yet.  They are sniffing around and asking her to be their girlfriend.  They are giving her their bracelets and texting her on her cell phone.  They are being invited to cookouts and meeting the parents.  This is NOT something I want to encourage, but the dance has begun and I just need to ride it out.  Luckily for me, she’s still at the stage where it’s awkward with boys.  They travel in packs and sit on the other side of the room, while the gaggle of girls sit on their side of the room and whisper to each other about how cute the boys are.  Ugh….  Might I just add that the 12 year old boys in this day and age look about 21 and should all be shot on sight? 

I realize that I was given a girl by the grace of God and this entire experience is meant to teach me a thing or two or twenty and I have embraced this opportunity.  I ask only for the patience to not commit any acts of violence with regard to my daughter or any other child.  See my previous post about kids - not my favorite things in the world, but they are tolerable for the most part.  I just thank God for his trust in me with this young soul and pray for the strength i will need, the tolerance I will have to show, and the patience I will call upon in order to survive these dreaded times.  Oh yeah, and I will be filling up the office in my place in the near future with armor and weapons as the threats continue to multiply.  All I have to say is - bring it on.  I think I might be ready.

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