Spawn had one of her well-planned and -executed social engagements yesterday. You know the kind where she tells me I need to drop her off at location A at 1:00pm and pick her up at location B at 3:00pm, but what she actually meant was drop her off sometime before 1:00 and wait 5 hours for the phone call to tell me that her pal's mother is dropping her off momentarily (so quickly in fact she could have been in our driveway when she made the call.) Whatever. She was out with a good friend, probably not getting in much trouble, and I was pretty darn busy anyhow.
I later found out the purpose of the trip was to go to Good Will to buy a dress for the high school dance that her little alternative h.s. calls "Morp" (cleverly, Prom backwards. isn't that just delightful?) I found this out as she tried on the dress she bought. I'm a little stunned by the dress- it is not something that she would have picked on her own. I very much saw the influence of her friend the willowy, fashion-conscious cheerleader. On the one hand, I'm kinda put out that she did this without me. I mean THE dance of the whole year and she didn't want me to make her the perfect dress? On the other hand, I'm also "yea, whatever". And the dress is fine. I'll fix what needs to be fixed so she's decent and that's that.
Except that while she was modeling the dress, she told me the theme of the dance. (Glitter and) Clubbing. Clubbing? Are you freaking kidding me? She's all like "it's dancing, mom". I'm all like "CLUBBING????" (For the record, she voted for "under the sea" which is completely dorky and "Back to the Future"esque... and not CLUBBING.) And I tell you that I think it's themes like "clubbing" that gives this town the dimension it has. As a college town, certainly lots of townie high school kids will be moving on up to the university when the time comes.
And what did this university have to offer this weekend? I give you insanity. A couple years ago, spring break unfortunately was scheduled the same week as St. Patrick's Day. This was disastrous. Because it appears that college students cannot sufficiently enjoy what all St. Patrick's Day has to offer while they are wherever they are spring breaking. So the next year, we had STATE Paddy's Day. The last Saturday in February has become my town's own private holiday so that all the university students will get the full benefit of drinking green beer until you're stupid. I guarantee you St. Patrick's Day on its own was more than enough stupid for these kids. I remember driving LLO to preschool the morning after St. Pat's (obviously many years ago) and having to dodge completely drunk morons in green hats on the street. They did not understand how this might be annoying and how I used to long to count points for running over people who think they have the right of way no matter where they are. Anyhow. So, State Patty's Day. An opportunity for college students and all their friends they bus in from every town within a 10 hour radius to wear green and drink. This has been several years now that we've had this fine tradition.
Long enough, in fact, that the police and the townspeople and local businesses know what to do to regain the reputation of our town. We import police from nearby places to help. We have a coalition of townies to walk around not acting stupid and generally setting a good example. And most of the local bars are closed on Saturday night now. You'd think the message would make it through. Wouldn't you? As I attended my class Tuesday night, those charming 20somethings were complaining about how the bars would be closed on Saturday and made the only statement that makes any sense at all... wait for it. They were planning to go out to the bars on Friday night instead. Thank goodness. I'm glad they have that kind of flexibility.
Anyhow. What was I talking about?
Oh yea. Cheerleaders. LLO told me the other day that she wants to quit band because she wants to be a cheerleader. I do not think I laughed out loud. I'm afraid I did tell her she ought to go ahead and practice her drum because it wasn't happening. If the main characteristic of a cheerleader was being heard, LLO would be tops. The rest of the stuff that goes into being cheerleader material? Not so much. She hardly brushes her hair, never wears it in a pony tail. She prefers to travel alone rather than in a herd. She doesn't like to do what (she's told) anyone else is doing. So, yea. She's a great cheerleader for me (my biggest fan, in fact), but there is no way she's ever going to be a cheerleader for any team. If only because cheerleader training starts in this town when you are 3 (and is yet another completely overpriced activity that we have never indulged in) and this is LLO we're talking about.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
the freaking remote
The tivo remote was missing. This is a huge deal to some people in my household. It is not a big deal to me because I honestly don't know how to use the dang thing and all those shows that are recorded for me are going to sit there unwatched until the earth spins into space probably. So we had a double whammy that shouldn't have been any trouble for me. I mean really. Because there it is: the device the children want in the midst of the trash heap of the living room that is filled with their crap, not mine. Anyone with a lick of sense could figure out that the children need to clean up the room (and put stuff away) and they will find the remote.
Unfortunately, I was home. I actually wished desperately that I had class to go to last night because that would have been way better than the reality. Spawn is incapable of looking for anything. When she was little, we used to make fun of her- she'd stand in the middle of her room spinning around looking at eye level saying "where is my underwear?" I'm not making this up. She'd look at the ceiling to find her shoes. So here's spawn's contribution to the looking: she reported that spouse thought the remote had fallen in the trashcan and that now this $200 piece of equipment was now useless. Yes, of course, if the remote MIGHT be in the trash why bother looking anywhere else. (Yes, I did wonder why said spouse didn't go look in the freaking trash, but the answer to that doesn't fit here chronologically.)
Littleloudone, who used to be the best finder in the house, was having one of her days. Possibly exacerbated by the figurative sharp stick that spawn was applying to the situation. So I decided if the kids cleaning wasn't going to happen, that we could try a simple exchange of services. Told LLO that I would look for the remote as soon she started practicing her drum. (I personally thought this was win-win since it would help avoid the drama next week of getting adequate drum practice in.) This was the worst idea you can imagine. Fit ensued.
Then the phone call. Do I ever hate the phone. I made Spawn take it and speak to her dad (as I will still a pissed about the trash comment and now pretty much incapable of speech.) He had to stay late at work. Spawn, being a basically kind, problem-solving child decided to cook dinner. Which is great. Except that she wanted to make some kind of pork stir fry and LLO and I both really just wanted mac-n-cheese. I had an appointment at school in less than an hour and Spawn really takes her time (and makes a huge mess) when she cooks. Well, she strongly believed that we should save the mac-n-cheese for when we were in a hurry. Because you know there is only so many boxes of Kraft mac-n-cheese at the store. She didn't like my answer. So upstairs she goes and starts wailing, opening the door every so often just so I know she is still upset.
And there's LLO calling me everything but mother. And then. Poof. I said something about respect (no idea what, honestly) and LLO says to me (this I do remember verbatim): You will never know how much I respect you. And I definitely thought, yes, you are right, I never will. Next thing I know, she practices her drum for the full 30 minutes without my saying another word. I clean the living room. I found all kinds of goodies in the couch including a remote (the wrong one), Spawn's missing inhaler, some kind of corkscrew device, and a whole lot of icky stuff that I left there. I went to my meeting, came home to dinner and calm. The second I walk in the door, LLO remembers where she dropped the remote the day before and that was that.
And we wonder why I'm nuts.
Unfortunately, I was home. I actually wished desperately that I had class to go to last night because that would have been way better than the reality. Spawn is incapable of looking for anything. When she was little, we used to make fun of her- she'd stand in the middle of her room spinning around looking at eye level saying "where is my underwear?" I'm not making this up. She'd look at the ceiling to find her shoes. So here's spawn's contribution to the looking: she reported that spouse thought the remote had fallen in the trashcan and that now this $200 piece of equipment was now useless. Yes, of course, if the remote MIGHT be in the trash why bother looking anywhere else. (Yes, I did wonder why said spouse didn't go look in the freaking trash, but the answer to that doesn't fit here chronologically.)
Littleloudone, who used to be the best finder in the house, was having one of her days. Possibly exacerbated by the figurative sharp stick that spawn was applying to the situation. So I decided if the kids cleaning wasn't going to happen, that we could try a simple exchange of services. Told LLO that I would look for the remote as soon she started practicing her drum. (I personally thought this was win-win since it would help avoid the drama next week of getting adequate drum practice in.) This was the worst idea you can imagine. Fit ensued.
Then the phone call. Do I ever hate the phone. I made Spawn take it and speak to her dad (as I will still a pissed about the trash comment and now pretty much incapable of speech.) He had to stay late at work. Spawn, being a basically kind, problem-solving child decided to cook dinner. Which is great. Except that she wanted to make some kind of pork stir fry and LLO and I both really just wanted mac-n-cheese. I had an appointment at school in less than an hour and Spawn really takes her time (and makes a huge mess) when she cooks. Well, she strongly believed that we should save the mac-n-cheese for when we were in a hurry. Because you know there is only so many boxes of Kraft mac-n-cheese at the store. She didn't like my answer. So upstairs she goes and starts wailing, opening the door every so often just so I know she is still upset.
And there's LLO calling me everything but mother. And then. Poof. I said something about respect (no idea what, honestly) and LLO says to me (this I do remember verbatim): You will never know how much I respect you. And I definitely thought, yes, you are right, I never will. Next thing I know, she practices her drum for the full 30 minutes without my saying another word. I clean the living room. I found all kinds of goodies in the couch including a remote (the wrong one), Spawn's missing inhaler, some kind of corkscrew device, and a whole lot of icky stuff that I left there. I went to my meeting, came home to dinner and calm. The second I walk in the door, LLO remembers where she dropped the remote the day before and that was that.
And we wonder why I'm nuts.
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