Just Another Day

Me: Hey Mimi - Where'd you get that chocolate bar?  (and can I have some???)

Mimi: Ummmm, I went to the grocery store with Tori during my off hour. (and sure)

Me:  Hey, we've had this conversation before.  If you want to leave the school grounds during school hours, you have to tell me in advance.

Mimi: {noncommittal shrug}

Me: Seriously.  If you can't remember it on your own, I'll have to give you a reason to remember it.

Mimi:  I guess.

Mimi: Am I still grounded from before?

Me:  I don't know.  My life is just so much easier when you're grounded.

Mimi:  Is that really where you want to go with that?   Because if it is,  I'm going to give you a reason to remember it.


Oh.
Yeah.

It's virtually impossible to be annoyed at someone who has just given you chocolate.  I think I'll just take her advice.

Blame it on Nick Carter

I don't know what it is about teenagers and leaving the house wearing as little fabric as is humanly possible.  I'm not even talking about modesty issues - though we've certainly had those battles as well.  I'm just wondering when it became uncool to keep your body at a temperature where your natural lip color could still be described with words from the red/pink category rather than words like cornflower or cerulean.

Mimi rolled her eyes at me this morning when she was walking out the door at 6 am and I gave her the news that it was 22 degrees.  Well, she rolled her eyes, but then she also ran upstairs and found a shirt with long sleeves.

I know.  CPS will probably show up any day now.  After all,  I'm the mom who made her children wear shoes.  And this on TOP of making them observe curfews. How are my children supposed to be cool sick in the midst of this kind of parental hindering?

Other moms, who are even meaner than me (I?), but possibly not as experienced, would have even made the kid wear a coat.  But I've learned through years of "oh, we have to go back for my coat" and "oh, I don't remember where I left my coat" and "Oh, hey, I think I lost my coat"   that if you force kids to wear coats, you will have to create a whole COAT category in your monthly budget.  And that would seriously detract from my Sonic budget. 

Normally I'm a big proponent of "natural consequences"... but this one baffles me.  The natural consequence would be that You. Are. Freezing. Cold.
...But they don't seem to care.

Then when I mention that maybe, possibly there's a chance they are getting SICK because they don't wear appropriate warm clothing, they just come back with all the other reasons they are probably sick, most of which I really don't want to hear about, because they involve things like gum sharing, staying up all night studying (*cough* watching reruns of The Gillmore Girls*cough*), and sending a lipgloss around the English class where every single person used it, even the teacher and wasn'tthatsosick!  Well, YEAH it was sick.  Really. Really. Sick.

So in choosing my battles, I have forgone the coat battle.  But the parent in me says that long pants in January at 6am in Colorado is something I AM willing to battle for. At least it's harder to leave your pants at school than a coat.   (... not that it can't be done, mind you.)

We've got a system, though, that works pretty well. Write this down, because you will totally thank me for this idea. Basically, we set the ground-rules and then we let the weather forecasters be the bad guys.

Rule 1:  You must wear long sleeves, long pants and shoes that actually cover your feet if the temperature when you leave the house is 32 degrees or less.

Rule 2:  Capris and shorts are only allowed on days when the temp is predicted to be 70 or higher.


And that's my whole system.

It's not perfect, but at least it doesn't seem quite as arbitrary to say "it's 22 degrees" as it does to say "No flip-flops because I said so".

Also when Mimi comes home today - mad because she was completely overdressed when it was like 42 degrees and she had on LONG SLEEVES and she was practically suffocating all day long, ---the 9News weather team  the will take the blame. All I have to say is

"Oooooo! I'm seeing some scathing email in Nick Carter's future!"

That guy is going to be so confused.

But I DO Love You!

Everytime we see this commercial it makes us laugh.

My laugh is real.

My girls' laugh, however, is very very nervous.

Which makes me laugh even more.

hehehe



Another ace for Verizon.

(and apologies for the poor quality. I hate that it cuts off the dad's sadistic laugh at the end.)

Check Me Out!

Lizzie is learning to drive a stick shift.

I know!

You don't have to feel too sorry for me, though, because The Brain did most of the hard work. He's the one who volunteered to take her to a parking lot and let her practice and get used to her new nemesis, The Clutch. He also had her drive home from that parking lot, including the exhilarating experience of lurching into the middle of an intersection only to have the car die during the left turn process, which, as you yourself have probably experienced, quickly evoked strong reactions from several different drivers.

He then dealt with the aftermath of hyperventilation and the near fainting spell that took place after they managed to get out of the intersection.

He even took her out again the next day where they were only yelled at once when she stopped at a supermarket crosswalk and couldn't get going again, only to have the driver of the car behind her get out of his car to come to her window to yell at her about "parking in the fire lane". (Get a life, guy!)

The Brain again had to deal with the aftermath of hyperventilation and the near fainting spell that took place after they managed to get out of the fire lane.

When it was my turn, I rode with her while she drove to a choir practice on Sunday night. Lizzie, Mimi and I all hopped into the little car to make what I thought should be an uneventful 15 minute drive.

See, when you drive a mini-van, the only people who "check you out" are creepy old guys in convertibles. It never occurred to me that being in a different car with a different driver might produce different results along those lines.

I was stunned by the number of cars full of teenage buys that zoomed up to check us out. I mean, from the back, we looked like "Hey! car full of girls!" Of course, once they figured out that it was 2 girls and their mom, the fascination was over and they sped away. I don't think Lizzie even noticed. (She had plenty to think about, what with the driving and clutching, and braking, and shifting... not to mention the burning clutch fumes that were making us all a little dizzy.)

But seriously, once we got home, the Brain was dealing with MY hyperventilation and near fainting spell. I guess when you get old, you forget how many distractions there really ARE on the road.

Yesterday

This is a good summary of my day yesterday. Marriage is hard. Parenting is hard. Combining them can be intricately complex. Some might say lethal. But not me.


This armadillo mom, however, would beg to differ. ( If she were, you know, alive.) I'm pretty sure she and her armadillo husband had just negotiated some activity and money issues with her teenage daughter. Once they had it settled, the armadillo daughter, instead of expressing her undying gratitude for all the leniency and kind cooperation, decided to ask for just one more thing. Which I'm pretty sure put this armadillo mom over the edge, and she lost it. I mean Lost It.

Which her armadillo husband really really hates.

So she spent her evening wandering around alone, wondering how she was going to try to pull it together and be an armadillo wife and mom even one more day.

It was all very dramatic, I'm sure.

If only she had lived to see the morning. Things might have looked better after she'd had some sleep.

Kind of.

Parenting Suggestion #457

I love working with the teenage young women at church. I love the girls, and I love that I get to run the program and plan things that I think really help them in their many relationships and their spiritual development.

But let's face it. Teenage girls are not known for their gratitude.

It's not that they're UNgrateful! In fact, I've learned to accept it as a very sincere compliment when they think on their way out the door to turn and call out, "Thanks! This was, like, so fun!"

It's just that they rarely go out of their way to say:

"Hey, Sister Justrandi, thank-you so much for the hours and hours you spent on that great activity! I just wanted you to know that it really made me think about my relationship with the Savior. I also noticed that you coordinated the invitations and the centerpieces to fit the theme. That must have been a lot of work, and I really appreciate it."

Yeah, no.

And I don't really even expect that.

There IS one family in our ward, however, that tries to teach their daughters (and sons) to say thanks, and then one other thing when they leave an event, whether it's a church activity or a birthday party, or a dinner with a friend.

And can I just tell you there is nothing that warms my heart faster than to hear

"Thanks, Sister Justrandi! And I really liked those chocolate pretzels you made."
(or whatever they honestly liked.)

Just say SOMETHING. It's good for them to make a point to notice efforts of others. And it's really good for me to hear it sometimes. I mean, I'll run that program the best way I can, whether anyone's grateful or not. But boy, it sure seems easier when I think maybe someone noticed at least a little piece of my work.

Those kids are cultivating some serious people skills, all because their parents taught them to do so. If this is something you're teaching your kids, may I just say -

Thank-you!

Note to PreSchool Moms

Do you ever wonder why moms of older kids say the thinks they do to preschool type moms? It used to drive me CRAZY! But I'm starting to understand what they were trying to say.
You can read more at

Mormon Mommy Wars

where I am the guest columnist today.

Feel free to comment over there, over here, or both. (I would LOVE it!)

Terrible Two’s... Again

You know, it never really occurred to me how similar it is to raise toddlers and teens, until I told one of my delightful children that she was acting like a TWO YEAR OLD.

And she was.

Temper Tantrums – check

Asserting Independence –check

Unpredictable Displays of Emotion – check

Ah, yes. I recognized this. The Terrible Two's were back … only now they were on steroids. I even settled on a name for it: Terrible Teens…This Time It's Personal.

And that is when I heard the clang of a bell. And a loud voice said,

"Round TWO! Arrrrrreee you readddyyy to Rummmmbleeee?"

And another bell clang. I swear.

Oh, yes, we were definitely starting into familiar territory. My kids had even returned to covering their ears when I talked. Only now they were using headphones. And by the way, we have a new name for Time-Out. We call it Grounded.

But as I began to sort of brace myself for what is to come, I also remembered the wonderful, magical side of a two-year-old and as I looked closer, I found that I was getting that as well!

Laughter – check. My kids can make me laugh harder now than they did when they were pre-schoolers. And that's saying something! I love seeing our sense of humor tweaked – or should I say twisted- a bit and coming back around. Teens are funny, fun, and quite articulate.

Intelligence- check. Anyone who has tried to argue curfew hours with a 15 year old knows that their young nimble brain cells move faster than an adult's. But the amazing part is how fast they learn. My kids know enough to get around in 5 different languages. They can play – between the 4 of them – 12 different instruments. And they learn faster every day. It's amazing to watch!

Need for Approval –check. No matter how many times they tell you they don't care what you think, they do. And when I can give them some sort of approval, even if it's for something minor, things seem to go a little easier for both of us.

All in all I don't really mind the second time around the Terrible Twos. I've learned that the trick is to make sure I give lots of Time-Outs – to myself!