Christmas wishes

Two miscreants have been running wild in my house for the last few weeks. I've been living with "I don't know" and "Nothing".

"IDK" & "N" are turning the season into a seasonal nightmare.

Seriously. A nightmare.

I love Christmas (usually). I love walking downstairs Christmas morning and seeing all the presents under the tree. I love knowing that every child has a special gift under there that they really, really wanted but didn't think he was going to get.

I love watching them eagerly tear thru the paper and gasp or laugh at what they find when it's unwrapped.

and, I love having a secret. A secret is always the last present they open and are taken completely by surprise. Last years secret was the pool table.

This year... I have none of that. No awe, no surprise, no gasps. This year not one son has asked for anything and I haven't bought anything.

Am I going to have to resort to gift cards?!

Oh imagine the fun... walking downstairs to find....

.....envelopes(!) on the floor under the tree. Whoopee!


Last night I asked "Guys, it's 5 DAYS before Christmas, what do you want?"

"I don't know" one says with a shrug. "Nothing." says another.

Five days. There are 5 days left until Christmas morning.

and not one... not one present bought yet.

This is getting serious.

Jagged Little Pills

Progress reports from school were sent out yesterday. Oddly enough this parent didn't see one.

Gee... Do I even wonder why?

After 13 years of being a parent to a child (or 3 of them) in school, I don't even have to guess if it was an honest mistake on his part and that he really 'forgot' it.

I know better.

So welcome to hell week at the "K/M" house. Or Four hell weeks to be exact. 'Cause 4 weeks is as long as it is until school is out.

In the meantime, his Jeep is now parked and his brother (who quit his job last week) will drive him to school and back until either a) his grades improve; or b) school ends.....

and the latest speeding ticket? ..... $250. oh yea.. it's not been pretty.

I Will Not lose my hiar for this.

Ok... now this has been rolling around in my brain since I first heard this commercial. There is a Laser Hair Center that says that if I have the hair removal treatment performed on my legs, my life will be better because ... "instead of having to shave my legs and waste important time... that important time I could be sharing with my family...."

Soooooo, I'm wondering exactly what important thing my family is doing while I'm in the shower for 30 minutes. And why wasn't I told about it sooner?

Look. It took me years to reclaim bathroom time as 'alone time'.

My kids are teens now. They no longer slump sobbing against the door, pitifully knocking on it because Mom went 'somewhere' without them. Well, they're done with the sobbing part anyway.

Eventually (kinda) they learned the closed door rule. The rule that says be polite. When someone is in the bathroom and the door is closed...there will be no frantic knocking on the door asking for money/to find something that is lost/feed them/inform me the cat got out/or that there is a phone call for me.

They learned that in less than 3 minutes Mom will appear again and that I will still miraculously be able to hand out money/find a lost item/make lunch/go find the missing dog/cat or take a phone call, just as well as I could have done before I was in the bathroom. I did not flush the mommy powers away. I tried. I know.

I mean, short of the house being on fire, blood or broken bones concerning them or the cat; do not come banging on the bathroom door when I'm in there. Their world will survive until the bathroom door opens again.

And now this. A company insinuating to Moms that even that short time she spends doing girlie things is too much time spent not caring for her family. More Guilt. Great.

I suppose they'd be all for me getting the laser hair removal onmy head too... you know, to eliminate the 10 extra minutes I spend washing my hair. What next? Getting a cath?

Call me selfish....but I'm keeping the hair on my head. And I'll continue to remove hair the old fashioned way... one nick at a time... But better yet, I'm keeping my 30 minutes in the bathroom. I get to snicker when the kids forget the closed door rule and come knocking on the door. I pretend I can't hear their calls over the sound of the shower.

.........and yes, as long as I don't hear sirens in my driveway, this amuses me.

Vroom to Screech in under $500

You know that Mother's curse?

The one where your mother says..."Wait til you have children of your own...".

This is usually uttered in response to a stupid.terrible.dangerous.problematic thing you did when you were a kid.

That curse's power is also in direct correlation to how many times you forced your mother to utter it.

In my case, my mother must have uttered it daily to me.....

Cause my Son#3 just got a speeding ticket.

Again.

Decisions, Decisions

Mom's can play dirty.

I didn't sign the enlistment papers, nor did I refuse to sign them.

I simply made him list the pros and cons about joining early (or at all) and ....ahem... 'let' ...ahem.... him decide.

Fortunately for us both, he decided that although there were benefits to joining now, there was also no rush and that he would think about it again, after graduation from high school.

Smart boy.

I guess now I can unlock the door and let him out of his room.

My baby Isn't a Baby... but Don't Tell Him I Said That.

Son #3 is my baby. My baby is 17.

We practice having our children leave us. We leave them with a baby-sitter, send them to school or even let them spend the night with family or sleep overs at a friends.

But when the time comes for them to leave us for the last time, none of the practicing we did for 18 years truly prepares us for letting them go.

Since he was very young, my son Ian has wanted a career in the Military.

He has been to a military "High Adventure" camp which turned out to be a disciplinary camp..... and he loved it. He is enrolled in the Marine ROTC jr program in high school; participating on the exhibition rifle team and is also the team captain of the ROTC rifle shooting team in high school. Military seems to be in his blood. I'm proud of him.. but. Well you know.

Now he is at that point in his life, when his direction is being defined. It's no surprise that he wants to pursue a military career. It's been obviously apparent for many years that there is where is his heart lies. And even more painfully apparent when he asked a National Guard recruiter to come to the house this evening to talk to me.

Ian didn't need to talk to him again, he knows what he wants. He wanted the recruiter to talk to me. He can sign up now and qualify for a full scholarship to college next fall after he graduates from high school. He will get a years head start on his rank. He will also be eligible for deployment at anytime during his first two years of college. Deployment.

Deployment.

I cannot ..... CANNOT .... With any part of my breaking heart, sign papers that would allow my son to possibly be deployed in a year or two.

This is a decision I cannot and will not make, a decision that will so drastically impact or possibly end his life.

It is a decision he will have to make on his own when he is legally able.

I have 5 months until then ....... 5 very, very, very short months.

I live in the Hood. A neighborhood, that is.

Who knew that in my little middle class, suburban soccer mom, flower bed, bermuda grass yards of suburbia hid.... the hood.
........and that my son was a graffiti artist in said hood.

Just think that the childs room they did this to was with the blessing of his parents!

WTF where they thinking?!!

Maybe I should call his parents and apologize for giving my son those artist pens (and forgetting to give him a sketch book) for Christmas?

They look quite the thugs, don't they.

Chris (a neighbor child on the left) just left for two years on his Mission with the Mormon Church.


My son #3 (on the right) just told me that his father is showing up with the jeep for him AND also that a National Guard Recruiter is coming to the house on Thursday to talk to me.

A recruiter? I think I'm freaked.

No wait.. I know I am.