Always Sunny Greetings

My lovely daughter is 18 years old today – no longer my baby, at least in her eyes. I would beg to differ. At any rate, this is how we roll in our house with birthdays: an Always Sunny cake and Starbucks. With chicken and dumplings for dinner tonight, and Wonder Woman on the schedule for tomorrow, life is good. Happy Birthday Sarah!

 

 

 

Growing up ain’t all it’s cracked up to be – for the Mother

Getting old sucks. Can we all just agree on that? Joints get achier. Skin gets looser. Lines form. It’s just a big ol’ mess. Sure, it’d be tougher to run a mile now than when I was 18 (if I ran at all, that is), but getting older isn’t all bad. Whenever I get a little down about the sands of time slipping through the hourglass, I can always look at my children and know that I’ve helped mold two people I could not be more proud of. They’re tolerant, compassionate, empathetic, decent, and just all around good human beings. So at least there’s that, I say to myself as I find yet another grey hair. These two are my crowning achievements, my purpose in life.

And, goodness, how fast time does fly! My son graduated high school 7 years ago and it feels like yesterday. Now, just like that, my daughter is graduating this week. It feels like that time passed in the blink of an eye. If there’s one thing I can criticize both her and my son for (and trust me, I do), it’s that they can both be rather disobedient. I told them years ago to stop growing, to just stay little, but they refused to listen. So, here I am, once again at the threshold of another child receiving a diploma. If they would just listen to their wise ol’ mother, we wouldn’t be in this mess again. On the contrary, we’d still be happily shopping in the Garanimals section of the department store with nary an argument on color or style to be had. Alas, time waits for no man. Or mother.

my baby

On top of graduating, my daughter also turns 18 in a few days. I know, right!? How dare she!? It’s quite the milestone and I wish the world for her. Not just in a philosophical “best of luck” kind of a way. I mean literally, I want her to have the world. To explore. To see new things. To travel. To meet new people. To let life be an experience with the entire world as the garden she frolics through. She is no doubt destined for great things, but I want her to delight in the path she chooses, to walk it with a profound sense of joy as well as purpose. Neither she nor her brother have yet to disappoint. I don’t expect either to start now.

not such a baby any more…

So while it does suck getting old, it’s kind of worth it when you see what you’re letting loose on the world.

Petrified Petra on the Prowl

As I watch my dim cute dog barking ferociously from her position in the middle of the front yard, feet planted firmly, neck hair duly raised in alarm, I can’t help but hang my head in humorous frustration. For you see, it’s Sarah, my daughter, standing by the car in all her yellow-haired innocence that’s causing this canine uproar. Sarah. The one thing Petra loves more than food.

Knowing Sarah was out there, I let Petra out to ummm…you know…and rather than run to Sarah, as expected, when she was finished her business, she instead took up an “I must guard the house from this hitherto unknown and completely strange human person” stance. And I’m left standing here in the doorway thinking WTF? Once she braved the few feet to investigate the offending creature further, Petra was overjoyed to find it was her dear friend and nap pal, the purveyor of French fries.

I’m awed by the fact that Petra was brave enough to check out something that frightened her as she never would’ve done that when we first got her. I’m equally concerned that her eyesight is apparently becoming such that she couldn’t distinguish her friend no more than 10 feet away. Something that wasn’t a concern before.

So now I’m wondering…is it as my mother believes – that Petra was being a tattle-tale and telling on Sarah for being outside when, according to Petra’s sense of the rules, she shouldn’t have been? Or, did Petra really not recognize her? Or perhaps seeing Sarah out of her usual context sort of threw Petra off her game? OR is it more sinister than all of that?

Perhaps Petra saw the shell that we all believe to be Sarah but which has been taken over by an alien spore, demonic entity, or wayward ghost looking for a new home? Maybe I’m underestimating Petra’s keen powers of observation. Is it possible Petra can sense the evil lurking within? Now I just don’t know what to believe.

I mean, isn’t this how all the best horror movies start?

Mourning the Loss of Wisdom

I would say I’m sorry for not posting in a couple of days, but frankly, I’m just too tired for guilt. Between working and my caregiver gig the past several days, my usually snarky self is just plain pooped. But this week’s experience has inspired me to write about a subject I’ve had an issue with for a while now. Aren’t ya’ll lucky?

We’ve all seen the posts and videos made of family and friends, all doped up on pain medication after a surgical procedure.  I may be in the minority here, but I’ve never found them funny, and this week it struck me exactly why I don’t.

My daughter had all four wisdom teeth removed this past week.  Hers wasn’t an easy extraction; the way her teeth were placed – she had roots growing into her sinuses among other serious problems – required an oral surgeon.  She was under the influence of some pretty heavy medications during the procedure, and is on more medications now.

My daughter wasn’t exceptionally loopy, just very chatty. Ironic, I know given her mouth was so sore. We had joked about it prior to the procedure – the video blogging I mean. But it didn’t even cross my mind to take footage of her discomfort.  I was too concerned over her wellbeing. Then, it dawned on me; what a spectacular invasion of privacy to video someone on medication and then publish the video.  Granted, my daughter knows I write about her in my blog, but we agree on what I can and cannot publish.

No matter how loopy or goofy she had been, my cell phone would have stayed right in my pocket.  Seriously; who DOES this?  She needed me the most at that moment in time.  She needed to know that she could count on me to take care of her and especially that I would never post anything embarrassing for the world to see, for her friends and complete strangers to make fun of, or even to look back on and remember how uncomfortable – how downright painful – the day had been for her.

I suppose some of the people in these trending videos may have given permission beforehand.  If they didn’t, though, what does that say about the person videotaping?  With friends like that, who needs enemies? What about the parents gleefully posting pics of their small children all doped up?  Is this cute, or creepy? Or worse, does it show an inherent meanstreak?

Now I certainly will make a mental note of my daughter’s ramblings, and maybe even bring them up at a future date to ensure compliance in some matter or the other. (Never said I was perfect, folks!) But to post a video of it on Facebook? No thanks. The only reason to post it would be for laughs or attention. I guess I don’t really find that sort of thing funny. In fact, I find it kind of mean.

What do you all think of the trend of posting these types of videos?  Feel free to comment; as for me, I need to go.  Good old Chipmunk Cheeks is asking for some soup.

Southern Drawl

Although she has known me, literally, all her life, apparently I still surprise and amuse my daughter with my speech patterns. Oh, not the cursing, that she just takes in stride. But some of the figures of speech I come out with are simply too much for her to deal with, I guess. Some of this is caused by the fact that I’m old and she’s well…not old, and so many things I say are dated and unknown to her. A few of the phrases I spit out, the non-curse word ones that is, no doubt come from being raised by Appalachian born and bred parents. So I can see why my language choices might be slightly confusing to my daughter who has had a completely different childhood.

It does make for interesting conversation at times. Especially during our road trips, when I shout something particularly wrathful, I feel, at the driver in front of me, yet the effect on the smart-ass sitting in the passenger seat is one of great amusement. Or we’ll be having a perfectly civil conversation and without thinking, I reveal yet another unheard-of gem and the disbelieving eye-rolling begins. Because, you see, it’s not that she thinks I’ve lost my mind, but rather, that I’m an idiot who doesn’t have a keen grasp of my native language.  And really, who can blame her? If I didn’t know better, I’d think some of these phrases are made up as well.

Then of course, out comes the long-winded explanation to prove that no, I haven’t suddenly gone daft, only to be told “that makes absolutely no sense” with that lovely tone of disdain only a teenager can properly produce, to which I respond – with utmost maturity mind you – yeah, well, you don’t know everything and then proceed to stick out my tongue.

Oh yes, good times.

 


While writing this, I could not for the life of me recall all of the phrases I’ve used that have tickled my daughter to no end. However, I did start a list with the few I could remember and will update it on occasion as more spring to mind or mouth.

Piss or get off the pot.

You don’t have the sense God gave a stump.

It’s like trying to herd cats.

I’ve got no dog in this fight.

Lie like a dog – also worded as – lie like a rug.

That dog won’t hunt.

Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.

Dressing up mutton and calling it lamb.

Stop acting ugly.

If I had my druthers.

Rode hard and put up wet.

Hair of the dog.

Future Plans

So.  I was having a conversation with my daughter as we drove around doing errands, mainly about her dislike for unruly children and especially the bad parents that seem to run rampant not just in our town, but in the world. Don’t ask me why we were having this conversation…I can’t remember why it came up but I’m sure it had to do with some far-flung memory or observation of an ill-behaved child in action. But at any rate, we were talking about the world in general as it pertains to unruly children and the parents who allow them to continue their disruptive and troublesome behavior and that all told, life would be better if there were changes made in some respects. Yes, these are the sorts of in-depth, mind-boggling discussions that tend to take place on our road trips.

At any rate, my lovely, intelligent, and oh-so-tolerant daughter said: “I have some ideas, but that’s how dystopias start.”

I didn’t ask her any questions about her ideas on how to mold the future. Quite frankly, I just didn’t have the nerve.

Be afraid people. Be very afraid.

don't be fooled people. she's not all innocence and feather boas.

don’t be fooled people. she’s not all innocence and feather boas.