Menopause plus a teenager equals wine
It was Thoreau who said, “Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”
Teenage boy heaven underfoot:
(Baseball over homework)
Mom heaven on underfoot:
(Anything over housework).
Until next time -
C
I am stocking water, hoarding matches, saving cans of food.
As of tonight, it’s official.
I am about to encounter aliens.
Tonight is Open House and New Parents Night for the middle school Brian will be attending in September.
Brian is . . . going . . .
Brian is . . . (gulp) . . . going . . . (gulp) . . . to be a
Pre-teen.
An alien will be moving into my home for the next few years. He will snatch up what is left of my little boy who believes everything I say and loves everything I do. A foreigner will inhabit his body questioning my every move, looking for my mistakes. He will look at me like I am a mom.
I must prepare.
We attended the Open house and . . .
Brian was in heaven.
Where’s the cocktails for us incoming parents?
I was also able to witness the “Mr. Cool” Brian, you know, the behavior when cute young girls notice them. He pretended like I was some weird stranger standing near him. Dear God, is this age really approaching? When the principal mentioned the student dances I wanted to grab Brian’s hand and run for our lives.
(Sigh) Alas, I must let him grow up now.
No snakes though.
Teenage girls calling will be scary enough.
Until next time -
C
Bikers.
Unfortunately not the Harley Davidson kind.
Yippy for us (??) Sonoma County is a part of the Amgen Tour of California. (Y A W N).
I’m not really into bike racing guys. I’ve always known them to be the type where a girl would want to take a leisurely ride on her bike and they’d try and turn it into some sort of bicathalon. (“But my bike is only a three speed!” she screams at her biking date, who is now a full mile ahead of her. “Suck it up honey, we guy bikers like a peddling speed of 55 mph!” he mumbles. Later she is seen turning her bike into a winery tasting room parking lot never to be heard from again…)
When I think of biking guys I always think of this guy my ex husband used to work with who had nothing good to say about anyone … except Lance Armstrong. This guy was bald, short, mean, unattractive and weird. This would be fine I suppose, except he was the king of picking people apart. I used to stare at him and think, “Did YOU look in the mirror this morning?” He loved anything bicycle. I think if he could have “done” a bicycle he would have. It was like he was stuck at age 7. He also lived for bike races. He is what I imagine bicycling guys to be like. (Sorry bike guys but it is true…).
Unless you find me a bike racer who is puffing on a cigarette, flipping off traffic while drinking a pint of brew I doubt I’ll be changing my mind anytime soon.
I love Brian’s take on life, as he looks at bike racers and says to me,
“Mom, why do they do this?”
“Son, I have no idea.” I grin.
“They don’t look like they arehaving fun either.” He grins.
“Yeah, they are into total body health son, that would make anyone look like they are constipated”. We both grin.
Luckily for us they are riding out of town today.
You know … the Hells Angels used to have their annual motorcycle ride through here every year, but left when helmets became law in California. Maybe I just can’t get used to the transformation from wild country to domesticated boredrum …
Until next time-
C
For boys -
It’s Swimming.
For Mom -
It’s ignoring the clean laundry.
For boys -
It’s arguing the rules of baseball with friends.
Then celebrating two lost baseballs over the perfect boy dinner.
And ahow Mom that apples are unimportant compared to vegetables like french fries.
With a peaceful end to a boy’s perfect Saturday.
For Mom -
The perfect end to a perfect Saturday.
Until next time-
C
A redhead’s husband, being unhappy with her mood swings, buys her a mood ring for Valentine’s Day so he would be able to monitor her many moods.
He discovered that when his lovely redhead is in a good mood, it turns green.
But…
When she is in a bad mood, it leaves a big f*&#*ing red mark on his forehead.
Maybe next time he’ll buy her a diamond…
Until next time-
C
Children teach us about life and how it should be lived. Tonight was the awards night after the final games of the basketball season. Brian’s team came in third after a stunning loss in the last split second of the game. Up to this point they were tied for second in the league.
This was his first time at basketball and he played with such fearlessness that I wondered if he was related to me at all. He went into a sport he knew nothing about and kept up with kids who played since they were 4. He never once complained about any of it – not the time on the bench – not the fouls or missed shots.
In fact, all the kids played brazenly tough games while still respecting each other. I often wonder if they were really the adults and us adults were really the kids. During one game it hit me like a brick to the head: the kids love what they are doing. This is what bliss looks like.
If the parents would just leave them alone.
Maybe we parents should be banned from all our kids sporting events. I’m not sure if they would miss us. All our side coaching and prodding. No wonder kids go away to college.
Brian sits displaying the medal he earned for attempting something he never tried before surrounded by us parents who needed to leave them play their sport.
He should wear it proud and I should get a life.
Until next time-
C
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