T is for Teen

How I got to be a mom of a seventeen-year-old, I'll never know. I'm not nearly old enough for that kind of thing. I tell myself it's impossible because I remember being 17 so vividly myself and I know for sure I was much more grown up then than he is now!

Being a mother of a child that age has it's benefits, but it's mostly just scary.

For example...

The other night I drove hubby to the airport for his flight to Ireland, I ordered pizza for the boys and settled down for a night of on-line shopping. Little was hanging out on the couch, Middle was upstairs playing NCAA football, and the Big one took the car to go to a friend's house. He's always been pretty responsible so no worries right??? Wrong.

There I was, shopping away when the phone rang. Here's the following conversation...

Me: "Hello"

Caller: "Is Mr. C there please."

Me: "No, he isn't is there something I can help you with?"

Caller: "This is the Salem Police,  who is driving the Honda Accord?"

Insert instantaneous panic.

Me: "Oh my God, is everything okay? That's my son in the car". 

SPD: "He was seen with a car load of kids taking flags from a front lawn. Does he have a cell phone?"

Me: Yes.

SPD: "Call him immediately and tell him to return the flags and apologize."

Me: "Okay, I'll do that right now." 

Well I called him. 

 I'm not really sure what came out of my mouth, but I'm sure it would have looked something like this *$&##*@@!!!!!!

I hung up and was shaking. I was certain when I heard the words, "Salem Police and Honda Accord" that this was the phone call that every mother dreads. The one that begins every parent's worse nightmare. The one where they tell me, my son is the latest teen driver casualty.

Thankfully it was just the Big one being a STB! (Stupid Teenage Boy)

Needless to say, he's lost his privilege to drive for awhile and I've added a few more gray hairs and taken at least a year of my life expectancy.

He does a lot to make me proud, he's consistently on the honor roll, is a member of The National Honor Society, a varsity athlete, personable, and polite, but for a little while Wednesday night he had ZERO common sense. 

STB...he just can't help it.

shopping

 I hate shopping. Wait. Let me clarify, I hate shopping at the mall. Mostly I hate the crowds. It's always too hot, I hate not knowing what to buy as I keep hoping that idea for my mother, husband, father, sister-in-law, will pop out and announce, "here I am, buy me!" 

My family doesn't help me out much since most of the time when I ask, I hear, "I don't need anything, or just get me underwear." 

I went to the mall yesterday afternoon with hubby and the little one. We looked around and the only thing I came out of there with was a new Coach wristlet. I had a gift card that I had yet to spend (Thanks Maria!!!) so since I was there I took the opportunity.

Back we went today and this time without kids. We are so much more productive without kids in tow. I managed to buy gifts this time, but I also squeezed in a pair of shoes for myself. Shoes are the best! You can try them on without the hassle of a dressing room, there is no guess work with sizing. If you're a 9 1/2 , you're a 9 1/2. You don't have to worry about gaining or losing weight and having them not fit. So I'm a big fan of buying shoes when you're feeling a little down. An instant pick-me-up!

The one thing I do like about shopping is the people watching. 

There are the husbands hanging out on mall benches trying to be patient, mommy's pushing sleeping babies in strollers, daddies chasing toddlers who refuse to sit in strollers, teen-aged girls who wear too little even though it's 25 degrees outside, in order to attract teen-aged boys with their pants pulled down to low, who follow those girls around like drooling Pavlov's dogs.

Credit and Debit cards are flying, and cash is being passed, the parking lots are full. I know the economy is in the toilet, but you wouldn't know it.

I'm headed to the  mall again tonight, but this time we're making it a girl's night out. A nice dinner at Joe's Bar and Grill, a few glasses of wine and more shopping and people watching. We'll laugh like silly teen-agers (but we'll be more appropriately dressed), and marvel at the fact that we are there...alone...without our children. 

So tonight I'll buy the Christmas jammies (a yearly tradition), that underwear my husband asked for, and if I can't find anything for my mom...there's always shoes.

P is for Pie

Banana cream pie to be exact. Little Boy has been harping on me to buy him a banana cream pie. Where he got this idea in his head is anybody's guess. Has he been watching re-runs of Gilligan's Island on Nick at Nite? Mary Ann made some good looking banana cream pies. Or were they coconut cream? 

Anyway, this morning while we were in church he whispered in my ear, "Mom, when I go to Sunday School will you go to the store and buy me a banana cream pie? Dad tried to find one but I don't think he looked in the right place." 

Game on. Dad couldn't come through, so I was on a mission to hunt down and fulfill the boy's banana cream dream.

When I picked him up at Sunday school the first words out of his mouth were...

"Did you get my banana cream pie? Can we go to Dunkin Donuts?"

The kid is pushing his luck.

So after lunch today I was busy helping hubby with some school work and wasn't really paying much attention to what everyone else was doing. I heard Little Boy in the kitchen. He told me he was getting himself a snack. A few minutes later I walked into the kitchen and saw this sitting on the kitchen counter... 

He didn't even bother with a knife, or plate. He just dug right in. After all, it is HIS pie.  Notice HALF the pie is gone!  He wants me to save the other half for Thanksgiving...11 days away. 

V is for Velcro

I would rather tie a million shoe laces than listen to the rip, rip , rip of a kid playing with his sneakers while I'm trying to read a story!

E is for Election

I decided to try a little experiment with the kinders today. I always have a question of the day posted outside my room. As they enter, the kids choose their names and place them under their chosen answer.

Most of the time the questions are something like, "Are you wearing anything blue today?" or "Do you have a dog?" The answers can almost always be answered with a "yes" or a "no". In the spirit of Election Day I decided to dig a little deeper. 

I put up two pictures. One of Barack Obama and one of John McCain. Both were nice pictures. I didn't want to be accused of bias, and I didn't vote because I didn't want to influence the voting in any way. I wanted them to decide based solely on looks alone. 

The question was, "Who do you predict will be the next president." 

Here are the results...

Barack Obama 11

John McCain 6

Then I asked a few why they voted the way they did. 

One said, "Barack has a big smile."

Another said, "McCain is hot." (I kid you not)

One said "I voted for Obama because John McRain (not a typo) lies and will switch around our money."

One said, "I voted for Barack because he has hair like me."

A funny little microcosm don't you agree?

Then I wanted them to think about the issues. I wasn't going to ask them about the economy, or the war in Iraq. I was tempted to ask them about No Child Left Behind, but I know I would have influenced them too much on that issue!! I wanted them to learn to weed out the lies, and look deeper!

I told them the story of The Three Little Pigs. I am a really good story teller (If I do say so myself) and I had them entranced. I explained that the story I told was from the perspective of The Pigs, where they are the heroes and the wolf is the bad guy.

After that, I read The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs by A. Wolf as told to Jon Scieszka. 

This version is told from the wolf's perspective. If you've never read this story, you should. It's hilarious.

After telling both stories we talked about what was the same in both versions and what was different. Then we talked about who was telling the truth. The pigs, or The wolf?!

Time for another election. 

I handed them each a ballot, and instructed them to vote for either The Wolf or The Pigs. 

Then I taught them how to fold their ballot so no one would see it. I explained that voting is very private and it's no one's business how you vote. I showed them how to fold it and slip it into the ballot box.

After lunch we tallied our votes. 

The pigs won by a very wide margin. 15 to 1 with one abstention. (He was in the nurses office) 

A landslide victory for swine everywhere!!