Tired Mama.com

Yes, boys are goofballs...

My youngest daughter is at a friend's house, just two doors down, with six other tween girls getting ready to attend her first school dance.

It's her first girl/boy dance and she's excited.

In a few minutes, she will come home so I can do her hair for the event. 

While she's here I need to find a minute to talk to my daughter about the boys who are going to be at tonight's dance.

My youngest has grown up watching High School Musical and more recently, a few episodes of Glee so I feel like I should warn her that the tween boys she is going to meet tonight might not behave exactly like the boys she's been watching on TV.

There will probably be no young boys asking her to dance or gazing into her eyes to tell she is beautiful tonight. (But, they should because she IS beautiful).

What I really need to tell my girl is that most, okay, ALL of the boys she meets at tonight’s dance will probably be um, goofballs. 

Nice boys, yes, but at twelve and thirteen years old?

They'll be goofballs.

The boys will probably stand on one side of the gym, throw things at each other, and not even pay attention to the girls.

Honestly, my daughter needs to not even really consider a boy to be a BOY until she’s almost eighteen because until then, in my experience, they’re all goofballs.

Actually, some guys are goofballs for a good long time after they're eighteen too.

But, because my daughter is almost thirteen?

I'm pretty sure she's not going to hear a word I say on the subject.

Sigh.

She's ready to change things...

The good thing about a 12-year-old girl returning home from four days at a well-run inspirational leadership camp is that she comes home fired up, ready to change the world and full of great ideas of all the things she can do to help make the world a better place.

The bad thing about a 12-year-old girl returning home from four days at a well-run inspirational leadership camp is that she comes home fired up, ready to change the world and full of great ideas...

You get my point.

And, if my daughter does even half of what she wants to do, she is going to be a very busy girl, and me?

I'm going to be very tired.

Sigh.

This is hard. Really hard.

In roughly twenty days, my oldest is moving out.

As in leaving my house, jumping on an airplane and moving to another country for a year of school.

I'm blaming my husband for this.

Yes, I know I agreed and actually was the one to research this program. I might even have helped her apply and celebrated her acceptance, but that's not the point.

I mean, I didn't expect her to really go.

My husband was supposed to say, no. That's his job, right? He was the one I was counting on to stop the fun.

Except he didn't.

And now, she's leaving and I am seriously freaking out, while pretending to be cool.

Yes, my daughter is ready. Yes, she's going to have the time of her life. Yes, it's wonderful.

Except it's not.

My baby girl, my first born is LEAVING me.

Did I mention I'm freaking out inside?

My way to deal with my inner turmoil is to organize her. I'm helping her pack, I’m making lists, I’m buying things, and I’m cleaning and organizing her room.

I am also driving her crazy.

If it was up to my daughter she would grab an extra pair of jeans, a few empty sketch books, her drawing pencils, her plane ticket and be out the door.

I, on the other hand, have decided that she needs at least three pairs of boots and seven different jackets. I also like the idea of her taking clean underwear along.

It's going to be a long twenty days, but it's also going to go by far too quickly.

Sigh.

Really, really, REALLY big sigh.

Zeros are real in my world

Last night, I was reading a story in my local paper about how a schoolteacher in Edmonton gives kids zeros. Yep, if a child doesn't hand in his work, then he gets a zero for it.

Shocking.

And I write that with great sarcasm.

What I don't write with sarcasm is that it appears that this teacher's school board is trying to fire him over it.

Seriously.

Here, you can read it too. I'll wait.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/commentary/teacher-who-gave-students-zero-marks-becomes-a-folk-hero/article4230726/

It's not April 1st, so the school board can't be kidding, so I have to wonder, what the heck are they thinking? Aren't they supposed to be supporting their teachers?

Aren't they also supposed to be supporting teaching our kids how to live in the real world? The world that if you don't do the work, you don't get paid, you get NOTHING - like a ZERO.

I think my kids can get a zero where they go to school, but I am going to ask them when they get home today because I believe we need zeros in schools.

Actually, I believe that we need all the numbers because even a 51%, means you still got 49% wrong and you'd probably be fired in the real world for that too.

Sigh. 

 

Letting go

I was talking with a friend this weekend and I mentioned that my oldest daughter had applied to a junior college for the fall.

We talked about the financial costs, where she would live and how it would all work.

I talked about how I thought she was ready and how she was excited about the idea.

And then my friend stopped my babbling, took my hand, looked me in the eye and asked me,

'Yes, and how are you REALLY with this?'

How am I with my baby leaving home a year earlier than planned?

I'm uh, honestly?

Thrilled for her, frightened for her, sad for me, excited for her, mad at how fast time has flown and even slightly jealous.

Basically? I have no idea how I am. So far, I've just been focused on her.

But, my daughter is thinking about leaving home.

LEAVING me.

How am I with this?

I'll get back to you on that. 

Right after I take a valium.

Followed perhaps by a red wine chaser...

Sigh.

What's in a name?

When my daughter entered sixth grade last September, she started at a brand new school. It's been a great success, she likes it, she's making friends and she's doing well. It's all good.

When she started at this new school however, she changed her name.

It was nothing too drastic, let's say her name is Elizabeth*, well at the new school she asked everyone to call her Lizzie.

Lizzie. My sweet little Elizabeth is now a Lizzie.

In fairness, she did ask if it was okay with me before she did it, and I told her I was fine with it, but I would continue to call her Elizabeth. But, I assured her, if she wanted all her friends to call her Lizzie, that was okay.

So, now at school, she signs all her papers, Lizzie. Her friends and even her teachers call her, Lizzie.

When we had parent-teacher interviews, all the paperwork was made out in her given name. The teachers referred to her as Lizzie however until I started referring to her as Elizabeth. They then paused for half a beat, and started to refer to her as Elizabeth too for the remainder of the conference.

When her new friends call the house and ask to speak with Lizzie, I pause for half a beat and then call Elizabeth to the phone.

But it's a little unsettling for me. My little girl was Elizabeth Anne since I first felt her roll in my tummy, and it's tough for me to think of her by any other name.

But I will, because it's really no big deal. The name is cute and really, I suppose, it's hers to pick. 

My baby is growing up.

 

* Yep, she's not really an Elizabeth, but if it's okay with you, I'll just keep her real name to myself and out of the blog world for a little longer. :)

You need shoes to get to University, right?

I'm off to take my oldest daughter to the College/University Fair this afternoon.

Yes, my oldest is old enough that we have to start thinking about things like this.

And yes, I am old enough to have a daughter this old. I just don't like to admit it.

Sigh.

I have no idea what we're going to find today or what my child is going to want to look at.

My eldest has no idea what she wants to study at University and she's one of those kids who does well at a few things so she has some choices.

I want to help her, but I want her to make the decision for herself as to what she wants to do and where she wants to go. She needs to decide the future that is going to suit her best and make her happy. I can help, but I can't make the decision.

I think deep down she'd like to follow her passion for art but she knows getting a well-paying job in that field could be a challenge.

She also has great marks in science so we'll look at those programs too.

She's got the marks for medicine and she's also an amazing writer.

So. Where does one start?

Personally, I think we'll start with lunch and part way through the afternoon, if things get too much, we'll skip out of the fair and go and look for some shoes.

Yep, shoes. 

The conference is being held in a part of town that has some nice shoe stores and when the stress of deciding ones future gets too much I think it's always good to distract oneself for a while

And looking at shoes? 

That's a good distraction.

She's ten. But she's only ten.

I'm pretty sure that, at this very minute, my daughter is failing a french test.

The reason I know this is because I overheard her friends talking about the test when I dropped her off at school this morning and then I watched as my daughter's face went white.

My daughter did her homework at the kitchen table last night - she did math and english. She didn't review any french. She's only ten, she forgets stuff.

In the grand scheme of things this is okay. My youngest will probably still get into University, eight years from now, even though she may have failed a fifth grade french test today. She is, after all, only ten.

On the other hand, she shouldn't be failing tests and she needs to learn to be responsible for her own work. It's time - she's ten.

I must admit I'm feeling guilty today because I could have flipped open her homework book and checked her test schedule myself, but I didn't. She was doing her work and so I just assumed she was on top of things. She is ten.

But as I sit here a part of me knows she's failing and will feel badly about it. A big part of me wants to save her from that but there's also a big part of me that thinks this is a good lesson for her to learn. She is after all, ten.

So, is she ten? Or is she only ten?

I can't decide.

Sigh.

Cheshire Cat's Sweet Revenge.

My son loves our family cat just a little bit too much.

Every once in a while my son will just hug our cat to smithereens and when our  independent feline meows in protest my son often just holds the cat all the tighter.

After a short protest, the cat will give up squirming and just wait passively in my boy’s arms until I intervene or my boy gets his hug quota and sets the cat free. 

Our cat is truly the most laid-back, patient and well, BEST family pet anyone could ever ask for.

But today, while my son was on the computer typing up his homework, the cat jumped up on the desk and sent a baseball, that was also on the desk, rolling towards the floor. The baseball fell off the desk and landed smack on the PC's power bar's off switch.

Yep, the son lost his homework and had to start typing it all over again.

Yeah.

Hee.

Hee, hee, hee.

And I swear, when I look at our cat right now? He’s smiling.

Done - like dinner.

So.

I just wrote my last paper for this term. I'm happy that it's done but with everything else going on I didn't give it as much time as I would have liked.

Blah.

But it's finished and a whole summer of um, renovating lies ahead of me.

That should be relaxing.

The other good news is that all my children are home from their respective school trips and last night, when I went to check on them, they were all in their own beds fast asleep.

Yes, I did in fact stay up later then my teen last night. I had a paper to finish.

Still, I don't care how old they're getting, I like knowing my trio are all sleeping in their own rooms at night - it makes me feel that they're safe.

Yeah, I know.

It might be time to get a puppy.

Take them, please.

My children are officially on spring vacation break.

My kids have been home for one day. My eldest doesn't even start spring break until next week.

But I am ready for the school to take them back.

Please.

Sigh.

I've lost my way.

I am taking a writing course this term and they've asked me a stupid question.

They asked me to make a list of the things I know how to do. 

Um. Yeah.

'Nothing' was the first thing that came to mind. How sad is that?

Then I came up with:

1. Nagging.

2. Organizing mounds of paper.

3. Driving bickering kids around to activities in a mini-van.

4. Time outs.

5. Laundry.

Argh.

Surely, I must know how to do things other then these. I did have a life before I became a wife and mother, didn't I? I was successful, secure and um, interesting. Right?

Sigh.

I have until Tuesday to come up with a list. Help me out here, my friends. I need some inspiration. What do you know how to do?

My Sally Brown

My youngest daughter informed me today that I didn't blog about her musical performance last week.

She's right.

So, everyone? I just wanted to let you know that my youngest played the part of Sally Brown in her school production of 'Snoopy - the musical' this past week.

What can I say? *

She looked beautiful, sang like an angel, performed beyond her years and was funny. She was actually very funny and it was a good funny, the type of funny that made the show better.

The most important thing? She had the time of her life.

She was extremely happy being on that stage and her being that happy? That made me happy.

Extremely happy.

Baby girl? You were amazing in the musical and you know what?

Even when you're not on stage, you're still amazing.

I love you, sunshine.

* Yes, it's my blog and I'll brag if I want to. :)

Please, just get in the house.

It's been busy around our castle lately.

Youngest daughter is performing in her school musical this week, my son has started hockey play-offs, we're progressing the house renovations and my classes are demanding this term.

Lately things have been very uh, busy crazy chaotic.

Yesterday, when my youngest daughter and I had just gotten home from an all day musical practice she decided to try out some Olympic type figure skating moves on the driveway as she waited for me to untangle the groceries and assorted costume paraphernalia from the back of our van.

As I was handing her things to carry into the house she turned to me with a grin. 

"Everyone keeps telling me to break a leg," she informed me.

"Yep," I replied, "that's a theatrical way of wishing you good luck."

"Wouldn't it be really funny if I actually did fall and break my leg?" she asked grinning, then ran off again to slide around some more on the ice in her winter boots.  

Ah, sweetheart?

No.

Just, no.

Sigh.

Today

I've got a child home today who is not feeling well enough to go to school. I hesitate to say he is really sick but he's not one hundred percent either so the school doesn't want him there.

So, he's here with me.

And this means I get to spend the day at home.

Which is okay, because I kinda like the kid and when I spend time at home I get things done.

Like uh, cleaning out the fridge, or sorting the laundry because those things need doing.

Or, writing something to help pay the bills. Those need to be looked at too.

But first?

First, I'm gonna go and bug my son. He's lying on the couch watching TV and bugging him sounds like more fun than cleaning.

*** Ten Minutes Pass ***

And now that I've done that, I have discovered that my son is running a fever and he is now telling me that his stomach hurts.

Wow, I made the right call when I decided to keep him home. I was right. Did you hear that? I was right. That doesn't happen very often.

And you know, when it comes to thinking that my kids are brewing something and about to get sick? I wish it wasn't happening today either.

Sigh.

I wonder how much Tylenol I have in the the house? I wonder if he'll keep it down?

Double sigh. 

Henry James and Washington Square

My classes have started up again.

For those of you who haven't been keeping track this is the third year running that I've been taking classes at my local University. Yes, I am insane.

But, I'm only taking two courses this year. I was taking more the past two years but I just found that life kept getting in the way of my courses and so I decided to take less this year and see how that worked out. 

You know what? One course is almost as bad as five. I'm still waaay too busy with kid and house stuff to concentrate on school properly.

I only need three classes to get this degree though and I am going to finish it. Soon. I hope.

So, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and prepare a presentation on Henry James.

I know, you wish you were me, right?

Did I mention I'm insane?

Sigh.

Pass the meds

Today my eldest came home from her first day of high school.

She came home happy.

And seeing her smile made me feel like a ton of bricks had just been lifted off my shoulders.

Only eight kids from my daughter's middle school are attending her high school so in her freshman class of four hundred she doesn't know a lot of other kids. 

I was uh, concerned - a little.

But it sounds like everything went okay.

The school she's attending is big and it sounds like she got lost, a lot.

She also told me that she talked to a few new kids and got into a fight with her new locker when it wouldn't open.

I gather her language teacher seems intimidating and the school's drama department is putting on a musical that she thought she might be interested in participating in. 

She also talked about trying out for the school field hockey team.

Overall, it was all good stuff.

Eight hours down and only a zillion to go until she graduates. 

After hearing about her day today, I think she'll be fine.

I, on the other hand, may need wine, or Valium or something even stronger to get through the next four years.

Do you think we'll ever stop worrying about our kids?

Sigh.

Thank goodness

Grab a Mai-Tai and join the conga line....

School starts again tomorrow for my trio.

If it wasn't for the homework, the extra curricular activities that require me to drive all over town and the early mornings I'd be a deliriously happy lady tonight.

As it is? I'm simply happy.

Very happy.

It's a big cut in the Back to School budget

I'm doing one of those smallish insane things today. You know the kinda thing, the one that if you heard some other Mom was doing it you'd shake your head and roll your eyes, then probably (hopefully?) forget about it.

Yep, I'm doing one of those.

I'm taking my fourteen year old daughter for a haircut today at one of those over the top expensive hair salon places.

Yep, I am - but let me defend myself.

You see, I went to this expensive salon five weeks ago out of desperation.

My reasonably priced nice hairdresser has left town and my bangs and hair were getting so ratty and long that I couldn't see. I looked pretty bad and worse yet? I was getting grey. So, I took a friend's recommendation and went to this nice swanky salon.

I almost had a heart attack when I went to pay, but my hair looked great so I decided that I was worth it.

Yes, as a matter of fact I can justify just about anything.

And yes, I did hide the receipt from Tired Papa.

Yesterday I had two people comment on my hair - FIVE weeks later. This just doesn't happen EVER, but my hair still looks good, it's easy to take care of and well, it's working for me.

At my age I'll pay a little extra for that.

My daughter? She got a teen cut at the mall a few weeks ago. Now, her hair is gorgeous. It's thick, wavy, naturally highlighted and just plain lovely to look at. Right now with this 'long bang teen thing' going on however it looks less than stellar. It looks heavy and lank and it's hiding her pretty face. It's just not working.

So, I'm paying to get it cut again, by the same stylist who did mine, for her first day of high school.

Sigh. 

I know I may never get her to go back to reasonably priced cuts once I start paying for her to have expensive ones, but school starts in five days and I don't know what else to do.

So, I'm just gonna pull out the credit card and close my eyes to the price. 

Let the eye rolling begin. 

High School?

So, my daughter picked up her high school timetable today.

High. School.

Just yesterday Tired Papa and I were thinking about having children and now, boom! - next week she starts high school.

So, personally? I'm in denial about the whole thing.

Fortunately, I had a fairly decent high school experience.

I did well, I had friends and I didn't make too many geeky mistakes.

I wish the same for her.

Good luck eldest daughter and um, I'll be here for you every step of the way. Especially on the days when you don't want me there.

Yep, that's a promise.

Love you too.

I don't like this feeling

It's that time of the year.

Summer is winding down which means I need to attend the end of the year baseball and soccer finals as well as buy new shoes and supplies for school.

The family is coming over for a BBQ tomorrow because we haven't seen some of them all summer (guilt) and we've got a birthday party to go to tonight for a good friend.

It seems busy right now and school and all the fall activities haven't even yet begun yet.

I've started thinking about Christmas too. I even went to the local electronics store and pre-ordered one of the new video electronic thingys that's being released in October. My kids have already mentioned it and I'm not standing in line in December EVER again to find out I can't get one of these stupid must have teen things.

I've started making lists again. I haven't had to do that for a while - okay, I haven't done it for a few weeks.

I'm starting to feel it - that panicy busy feeling is starting to return.

Sigh. Where did the lazy summer days go?

Deny, deny, deny.

It's still July for another week, at least where I live.

But when I went to Costco last week they were selling winter coats and CHRISTMAS wreaths.

My kids go back to school on September 8th. Yep, it's late this year.

But I'm already getting back to school notices in my mailbox.

Okay, I am a planner. I've taken the twelve step de-planning program but it didn't help. I usually get stuff done long before I need to but, even for me, this is getting ridiculous.

So, I'm covering my ears and closing my eyes and pretending I don't see any of these.

It can't hurt, right? 

Oh, if anything big happens while I'm in 'ignore mode' send me an e-mail and let me know, mkay?

The sun came out again

My youngest daughter had her music exam yesterday. She went in happy and well prepared. She came out in tears.

Ah, oh.

I wasn't all that concerned as she's still little for gosh darn sake, and really in the grand scheme of things this exam isn't going to make a huge difference in her life.

Still, I was a little surprised today when my happy go lucky, roll with the punches, life is sunny kid was still upset about it.

I talked to her music teacher and found out that the part of the exam my daughter thought she didn't do well on is worth about 10% of the total exam mark.

My daughter brightened up a bit at this news.

But this made me realizethat my youngest is growing up and starting to take these kinda things more seriously. I guess I can't just assume now that these trials aren't going to affect her any more - my youngest is no longer a baby.

So, I did what any good female would do if another female was upset.

I took her shoe shopping.

And then we had ice cream for dinner.

It made her smile.

My youngest may look like her Dad, but in reality?

The girl's all me.

I love you little one.

Got fluff?

I love to read. I really do.

I also read a lot.

I haven't been able to read what I want lately as I've been too busy reading the books for the University courses I just finished.

In the last four months, I've read Middlemarch, The Mill on the Floss, Adam Bede, Cranford, Mary Barton, Shirley, and just about everything written by the Bronte sisters.

If you asked my family they would probably tell you that I've done nothing BUT read over the past few months. And um, if you were to take a quick look at Mt. Laundry you might just believe their claim.

But for the next few weeks, before I get my reading lists for my fall courses, I can read what I want. And that my friends is totally different.

Today I can go to the bookstore and pick out any piece of fluffy silly literature that I desire. I can read romances or mysteries or magazines or just poorly written, badly edited trashy books. I can pick ANYTHING.

You know what? I am very happy about this - pathetically so.

Any suggestions?

Don't examine me, mkay?

I just got back from writing an exam.

I have decided I am too old to write exams.

I have another exam to write next week.

While I want to finish this degree I don't want to write any more exams.

I have one exam and two courses to go and then I'll have this degree.

Yes, I'm counting.

My mind is so full of exam facts tonight I can't think of anything to blog that's witty or even remotely interesting. I am seriously burnt out.

Blah.

Send wine and chocolate. Please.

Hello? Are you listening?

As my kids are getting older they are getting less chatty in the morning.

The twenty minute drive to their school is quieter these days with only my youngest usually talking or the radio playing.

When I drop my trio off at their school, I usually chirp, 'Have a good day. I love you. I'll see you at pick-up.' at them as they're getting out of the car. My youngest will always give me a reply but my older two will now usually just ignore me.

So today I decided to reply for them. I gave them my usual 'have a good day' line, and then I said to them, "Thanks Mom, you have a good day too. We hope you're feeling better.'

I figured if they weren't going to have the MANNERS to reply to me, then I'd set a good example and show them what an appropriate response would be.

What did they do?

My youngest smiled. My older son and daughter? They rolled their eyes and then my teen said to my tween, 'OMG, she's losing it.'

She's losing it?

Yep. I want acknowledgement to my uh, being alive in the morning from my children.

What was I thinking?

I've lost it indeed.

Sigh.

Middlemarch

I can't blog today because I need to read.

I have to have Middlemarch (George Eliot) read for my course by next Tuesday and out of the 800 odd pages I've now read about oh, thirty.

So, I'm going to spend the day reading.

It's a tough job....

Merry Exams

I have to write my Christmas exams this week.

Yep, Christmas.

My University has settled with the striking union, okay, actually they were forced back to work, but this means I now have classes again and so this is my Christmas exam week(s).

The problem? 

I don't feel like studying and I don't feel like doing the required readings any more.

I feel sorta grumpy and oh, tired and ah, over whelmed by it all. 

In other words, I feel about fourteen again.

Sigh.

Please send wine and chocolate.

Thanks.

Walking that tight-rope. Again.

How much help should a child get doing their homework?

At different times with my kids I've run the whole gambit while trying to help them with their homework. At times I do nothing to help and let them fail, and once I even did almost the whole project myself and, I might add, was quite proud of myself when I get a high mark from the teacher.

This weekend my son has a lot of homework, projects and a lot of extra curricular activities. He also has some invitations to do a few fun things with his friends.

My son wants to ditch the homework and projects and just go do the fun stuff. I can't really blame him. 

The problem is that even though the projects may not be due for a few weeks, Tired Papa and I are going away next weekend. We're leaving the kids with our thirty something (long story - and no, I'm not really, really old. Well,unless you're my kids or any of their friends, because then I'm older than dirt) niece so I know very little is going to get done on his projects next weekend.

Part of me is thinking that if he doesn't get a good grade on a few sixth grade projects is it really the end of the world? Do you even remember what kinda marks you got in sixth grade?

On the other hand, I don't want to set the idea in his little head that school work is optional and that marks don't matter, because in time they will matter and they'll matter a lot.

I'm trying to find the middle ground here and I must admit I'm struggling. Part of me wants to just chuck all the projects and homework and let him play hockey, go to the movies with his buddies and uh, be an eleven year old boy.

The other part of me wants him to study all weekend, get into medical school at say, twelve and look after me, in very high style, in my old age.

Sigh.

Balance is a bitch.

Baby, it's cold outside

My eldest is an intelligent, pretty and perceptive young lady.

This is the kid that I don't have to tell things twice to. My eldest daughter is bright, she always 'gets' it and she's usually made decisions that are smart beyond her years.

So why, when we live in Canada and the temperature tomorrow is predicted to be a HIGH of -17 will she insist on wearing a short skirt and knee socks to school?

Yes, she wears a uniform but she is allowed to wear pants - she just won't.

She dresses modestly so I'm not talking about inappropriate clothes; I'm just worried about basic warmth here.

Yes, the school uniform women's pants are incredibly ugly. I agree.

But uh, Hun? We're supposed to have a HIGH of -17 tomorrow and the low, with wind chill, is supposed to be about -40. There's MORE snow and freezing ice pellets in the forecast too. It's not going to be just cold tomorrow; it's going to be beyond cold. We have that flippin' deep freeze coldest of bone chilling cold weather heading our way.

My girl is fourteen. She's too old to be dressed by Mommy and threatened about what's appropriate to wear. Er, isn't she?

But I am trying. Nicely. In a cool Mom kinda way. I went out today and bought the ugly school pants in her size and I bought the tights too.

Betcha fifty bucks she'll refuse to wear them. But I will try to convince her.

I, on the other hand, will be the one out and about tomorrow in the rolly poly layers. You won't even be able to find me under all the down clothes I'm planning on wearing. I will look like the Michelin Man.

Will I look stupid as all heck? Yep. I just figure everyone around me will be too busy trying to keep warm to notice.

Sigh. 

Stay warm everyone.