Promises To My Teenagers

I recently spent time around a table with some older and wiser mothers. Conversation soon turned to teenagers. I envied my own budding members of this often maligned demographic, who sat on the hostess’ matching recliners, lost in competition on their iPods, while the battle-worn women told of children morphing into angry, emotionally unstable—even abusive—teens.

“You never want to believe it will happen to you,” said one. “You never want to believe that your sweet child will change.”

Here’s the thing: I don’t believe it. Call me naïve; call me smug, but I do not believe my children will ever become the dreadful creatures described around that table. I’m clueless, I know. It’s the only way to be an optimist.

Read the rest of this post on ModernMom.

More Tweens and Teens

Raising a Tweenager: The First Zit

Will My Husband Survive the Teen Years?

Mother Daughter Bonding at the Miley Cyrus Concert

Image: ivoryelephantphotography, Flickr

Temper Tantrums, Mommy and Daddy Style

It’s not so bad when babies cry. We know they’re just doing it to get basic needs met.  We realize we committed to 3am lullabies and perpetual feeding, and years of pooper-scoop duty. We don’t mind, much, but once they can talk, shouldn’t our children express their needs in rational tones? Are complete sentences too much to ask?

Note to toddler: Get over yourself
Fully functional toddlers continue to cry, and add whining, screaming, and destruction to their catalog of exasperating behaviors. On the bright side, these tantrums give us scientific insight into the human condition.

Click here to read the rest of this post on The Today Show Moms blog.

Image: Melissa O’Donohue, Flickr

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All Parenting Is Imperfect, Isn’t It?

What is perfect parenting? I have no idea. So what are we all aspiring to? The standards are too high, people! Too high. Here’s the Parenting U segment from KFSM Wake Up With 5News a couple of weeks ago.

Who Is Watching These Kids?

I’ve been trying to keep my daughter busy, I really have. But with her big brother at camp, it’s been a challenge. She’s crafty and artistic, which can be good. Or terrifying. Imagine my surprise at our newly painted front walk.

What is that?

What?

On the sidewalk.

Paint.

Paint?

Sidewalk paint.

Where did you get it?

I made it.

You made it? Out of what?

I don’t know — cornstarch.

Does it wash off?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Pretty sure.

Yesterday she melted crayons into the deck. At least this time it’s in the front, which if it does not wash off, provides the added bonus of pissing off the neighbors.

More of the Madness:

• A Case for Arts in Education
• Can We Listen to Hot Mix Now?
• Conservationist Rednecks in Training

Lessons From the Elk River

Yesterday we went on a float trip down the Elk River, known for its varying water levels and rednecky goodness. For the Fourth of July, I donned my cutoff Levi shorts, packed up the leftover hotdogs and hamburgers, and headed out with my family for a 9-mile ride–little of which I would describe as floating.

I wanted to name this post “Things I Learned on the Elk River” but I realized the lessons here are actually not new, but ancient wisdom, life lessons we all know but seem to forget over and over. Maybe that’s just me.

Here are a few lessons from the Elk.

• Never stand up in a canoe. Just don’t.
• Climbing into a boat is easier on shore than mid-stream. Almost always.
• In related good news, bleeding into a river does not attract sharks.
• City girls aren’t the only ones who seem to find out early, how to open doors with just a smile–or a lift of a beaded crop top. (“Mom, why is that man wearing all those necklaces?”)
• Speaking of children, for maximum relaxation, place competitive siblings in the same boat.
• You never know who will push you out of a low spot, and sometimes people surprise you.
• There is no such thing as too much river beer.
• Believe the guy who says, “By noon, this will burn off.”
• Not everyone needs SPF 600. But I do.
• Tube tops and string bikinis should have an expiration date. Maybe they should be burned at your fortieth birthday party. Or you thirtieth, depending.
• One sandwich is never enough.
• The last quarter-mile is always the hardest.
• Always bring your phone. And duct tape. No exceptions.
• “We should do this more often,” for me, translates to, “We should do this again in a few years.”
• And again, in case you forgot already–never stand up in a canoe.

People in these parts consider a trip down the Elk River to be the peak of redneck bliss. Maybe, but where I come from, there are no canoes–only inner tubes, lifted from a nearby junkyard under cover of night and courage of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Top that, people of the Ozarks.

Image Credit: Ivy Dawned, Flickr

More Summer Fun:

• We’ve Made It Past the Fourth of July
• The Trouble with Car Trouble
• Virtual Classmates: Why Facebook is Better Than Your 20-Year Reunion

Just Trying to Keep Up

I taught a class a few weeks ago. Believe me when I tell you I am *super* tech savvy, which is why I gave my students the option of paying me through PayPal. However, on the day of class a few people showed up unpaid. When one young guy asked if I accepted credit cards I said, “No, but you can just send me a check.”

Of course he said, “What’s a check?” and made everybody laugh self-consciously while adjusting their reading glasses.

Things are changing quickly. It’s hard to keep up.

Some of my writer friends were recently discussing internet access issues when my son was in the room. I was pretty sure “dial up” went right over his head.

“Do you even know what a modem is?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said while rolling his eyes, “It’s the thing that gets your wifi.”

PS – If anyone knows what the “fi” in wifi stands for, please share.

Not the Only Bad Mother

Last Saturday night my daughter had a friend sleep over, a really nice girl, one that I’m almost surprised wants to hang around with my daughter. On the way to take the girls to a movie, some jackass pedestrian steps out in front of my car, encouraging his child to do the same.

“Very wise,” I said, in a calm tone.

In the backseat my daughter turned to her friend. “My mom talks to people all the time when she’s driving.”

“My mom does the same thing,” said the Very Nice Girl.

“My mom usually calls them morons,” my daughter continued.”One time she said the “f”–”

“Okay, we get it,” I said. “I’m sure Susie’s mom is nicer than I am.”

I watched Susie shrug in the rearview mirror. “My mom just talks about running people over.”

A Case for Arts in Education

My daughter was made for musical theatre. She sings everything, mostly her own creation. With established works, she takes license. The other day she graced us all with an impromptu performance from The Sound of Music.

“Doe, a dear, a female dear. Oh, a pocket full of snow.”

Cute as it was, I had to correct. “It’s actually: Ray, a drop of golden sun.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I like it my way.”

“Yeah, okay. But it’s ray. You know do-re-me-fa—”

“So THAT’s what that song is about?”

“Music, yes. You didn’t know that?”

“I thought it was just, like, a SONG!”

“It’s a song that helps you learn the musical notes.” Feeling triumphant, I continued to demonstrate the correct lyrics. “Me, a name I call myself. Fa, a long long way to—-”

“Fob.”

“Fa.”

“Fa, a long long way to—”

“Fob.”

“So, a needle pulling thread. La, a note to follow so. Tea, a drink with jam and bread—”

“Cookies.”

“What?”

“Tea goes with cookies.”

You know how this ends, right? She and I screaming our respective versions in a friendly yet mildly disturbing preview of ages 13-16. If only she would get the Katy Perry lyrics wrong.

The Rules on Texting Are IN

Got teens and tweens? Then you have texting. The question is, do you have rules? We do. Check out mine and others this week on BlogHer. It’s part of LG’s TextEd campaign to educate parents on texting. You *might* learn something you didn’t already know!

Make sure you leave a comment – for every one, LG will contribute $.50 to DoSomething.org.

Why Don’t You Ever Text ME?

The other morning at breakfast the kids were mercilessly teasing their dad (I don’t know where they get it from…) about his lack of tech-savvy. He doesn’t text. Not even a little.

“Dad, I text you ALL the time,” my son said. “And you, like, NEVER answer.”

I was late to the joke, however. “You text him? You never text ME!”

“Mom, chillax.”

“No, I will not chillax. I can’t believe you don’t text ME.”

Enter the family opportunist, the as yet phoneless opportunist. My daughter, who has has been angling for my old iPhone since I upgraded, says, “I would text you, Mom.”

She’s good, that one. We’re keeping an eye on her.

Check out what bloggers much fancier than I have to say in this week’s BlogHer LG TextEd Roundup.

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