Juggling Life

Overheard

Social Butterfly: Can I go to __________'s party Saturday night?

Me: I need his parent's phone number so I can talk the them first.

SB: His brother was on that episode of "Made" we watched.

Me: Seeing his parents on MTV is not going to substitute for me callong them!

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MVP: Did you call me?

Me: Yes. You should have warned me about your new ring tone.

MVP: What? You don't like Pink Floyd?

Me: Oh, I love Pink Floyd. It's just a little disconcerting to send your son off to college only to have him change his ring tone to "We Don't Need No Education."

MVP: Ha! I didn't consider the irony.

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After the high school's open house Thursday night, Danger Boy and I were talking.

Me: Mrs. T. says ____________ (DB's long-time classmate) thinks your sister (Social Butterfly) is pretty cute.

DB: Yeah, all my friends say she's hot. They say it to try to get me upset.

Me: Or they could be saying it because she's hot.

DB: I suppose it could be construed that way.

Overheard At Dinner

Bugs: Can you tell me what is going on with the economy?

Me: The short version is that it used to be when you wanted a mortgage (quick tutorial on mortgages) you had to put 20% down--if the house was $200,000 you had to have $20,000 cash--and then you paid a certain, fixed interest rate, say 8%, for 30 years. Only banks and credit unions could give mortgages.

A few years ago the government decided to loosen the rules--it's called deregulation. Then a lot more businesses could write mortgages, you didn't have to verify income or put money down, and you could pay no interest in the beginning so you payment could jump from $600 to $3,000 in a few years.

Bugs: How did the people getting those mortgages think they'd be able to pay them? It sounds really stupid.

Me: Kind of shocking that you figured it out in 2 minutes and it took several years and the collapse of the housing market for our government to catch on.

Best Family

I usually have my Friday post planned out at least a few days in advance--I have to pick a photo and think of the story. This week I had zero time to do that--but everything happens for a reason. As I write this, there's a different story I have to tell.

There's a cast of characters on my sidebar and this lovely young lady goes by the name of "Bugs.

One unexpected side effect of being a non-traditional college student means that this year I'm going to college with my best friend's daughter. Tonight I got to check out her dorm suite (believe me, this is not your old school dorm!) and take her out to dinner.

The story of Bugs cannot be told without you knowing that she suffered a great tragedy in her life at the age of 18, the loss of her father. An anomaly of life is that the times in our lives that cause us the most pain are the times of the  most intense personal growth. So Bugs is not an ordinary college freshman; she's an exceptionally mature and responsible college freshman and she is the first of my son's friends to become the person they have the potential to be.

It's not that she doesn't have learning to do or experiences to have before she's truly an adult; it's that she is the person she was going to become 5 or 6 or 10 years from now. Because of what she's had to deal with, she is that woman today. The reason behind this is sad, but the outcome is breathtaking.

To enjoy a dinner of equals with someone you've known since she was in kindergarten, who you butted heads with when she was a headstrong middle-schooler, who you watched change at grow and mature at warp speed so her father could have the joy of seeing his oldest daughter become an adult before he died . . . it's really quite an experience.

In our three hours of conversation that spanned topics as varied as my oh-so-funny oldest son who we are both missing, the hookup culture of today, how rude it is that some students talk while the professor's lecturing, how she worries about her mom and sister, how much we both miss her dad, and strategies for dealing with the sometimes crushing workload of college, she coined a phrase I want to share with you.

I was saying how it just seemed so inadequate to me to say "my best friend's husband died." Of course not everybody needed to be told that he was also my good friend and confidante, my husband's best friend, a mentor to Music Man, and like a favorite uncle who was also a friend to Grownup Girl, MVP, Danger Boy and Social Butterfly, as well as the father of my children's best friends, but that explanation does a much better job of describing how much Thom meant to me and my family.

Bugs said, "I know, it's like you're our best family. Like best friends, but even more." Best family"--it's a perfect term for the intricate web of relationships you have when you have a friendship between two families that is elevated to the point our friendship is. Just as I would be bursting with pride if it were my own daughter handling herself with such grace and determination as Bugs is, so am I bursting with pride over her. As is her father--of that I'm sure.

He Shoots . . . He Scores!

                                      Danger Boy

 

                            Unnamed sad goalie

I Am . . . The Question-Talker

Yeah, I've never quite mastered that art!

Overheard At The Start Of The School Year

All (in unison): Happy Birthday Mr. Fix-it/Dad!

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Me to Danger Boy (who is uncharacterstically not up yet): Hey, you need to get up.

DB (Pulls covers over head): Just a few minutes. The Pharaoh and the Dead Pharaoh are fighting.

Apparently they finished their battle post-haste because he was up 5 minutes later.

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Social Butterfly: I guess over the summer H & T became Bro Ho's. Do you know what those are?

Me: No.

SB: Okay. Bros are guys that are really into dirt-biking and lifted trucks.

Me: So the Hos would be the girls that like them?

SB: Exactly.

Me: Isn't "Ho" sort of a derogatory term to use about your friends?

SB: Well that's what they call themselves.

Me: If guys say Bros before Hos, what do girls say? Hos before Bros? That doesn't seem right.

SB (Smiles slyly): Chicks before Dicks.

Me: ?!

Some days I sure to feel old.

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Talking on the phone to Grownup Girl

Me: Gangsta Boy is going to play football

GuG to Music Man: GB is going to play football

MM to GuG: Won't they make him pull up his pants?

GuG to Me: MM says "Won't they make him pull up his pants?

Laughter all around!

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Judge Not . . .

Social Butterfly sports a nose ring. It's a teeny diamond stud on the left side of her nose. She had been asking for one for about two years when Mr. Fix-it and I agreed she could do it. We would have preferred to have her wait until high school, but we knew that if she made Cheer she'd have to be able to take the ring in and out, which meant she'd need time for it to heal. So she had it done over spring break in eighth grade.

Her friend from forever, Care Bear, also wanted her nose pierced so my bff, OMomK, and I took the girls together. It was a bonding experience for two girls whose paths are diverging but who will forever be tied together by fun and sorrow.

SB just revealed to me that several girls on the Cheer squad have told her that their moms think she's a "bad girl" because of the piercing. A couple of moms have made comments directly to her. Hackles raised who?

I told SB that she needs to say the following verbatim to anyone who makes a derogatory comment about her nose ring. "My parents decided to let me do this because I'm a straight-A Honor student who works hard at my sport and never gets into any trouble."

And those moms? Some of them might want to take a closer look at some of the activities their non-pierced-nose darlings are engaging in right under their very noses.

Freshman/First Day

     This is what September in SoCal looks like (but not at a Catholic school)!

It Takes A Village

While Mr. Fix-it and I were taking MVP to college, we parceled Danger Boy and Social Butterfly out. Danger Boy went to his bff, Other Danger Boy's house. He goes to a different school, so I paid an older teammate to pick DB up and get him to and from the 2-A-Day Hell Week Water Polo practices.

Social Butterfly spent the first couple of days at Cheer Friend's house, then came to stay with our friends and neighbors, Jay and Quynh. SB has been babysitting for their 2+1/2  old twins, Lauren and Grace, since the girls were born.

Grace and Lolo love Social Butterfly and the feeling is mutual. She isn't just their babysitter, she hangs out with them just for fun. But it isn't just Grace and Lolo SB has a great relationship with, it's also their mom, Quynh. Sometimes we joke that SB's best friend is 30 years old.

Quynh and SB take the girls shopping, out to eat, on walks, to the zoo. They talk to each other like friends. They talk to each other about a lot.

Quynh was a high-powered pharmaceutical sales rep; she's owned her own recruiting firm, and she's an entrepreneur. She has had jobs and experiences that I've never dreamed of. Our skill sets, and the wisdom we can offer SB, are very different.

She's taken SB to Gymboree and taught her how to market and sell herself as a babysitter. She talks to SB about college and the work force. She encourages her to be the best she can at whatever she does. She champions the competitive spirit. She is a living example of a young woman who is figuring out her life/work/family balance day to day.

Quynh and SB have a relationship that is not a peer relationship, but not the same as being friends with your friend's mom.  I know that SB often uses Quynh's house as a refuge when her brother's are teasing her too much. I love that she has a place to go where she's happy, appreciated, educated, and loved by someone else.

I really "get" Quynh and SB's relationship. I had a similar situation with a neighbor whose 4 children I babysat for and whose ironing I did. Katy influenced my life positively in so many ways and I'm lucky that I still get to chat with her in the grocery store. Even though it makes me feel totally old that the babies I held are the parents of toddlers.

I really believe in the concept "It takes a village to raise a child." Parents, extended family, friends, coaches, teachers, and neighbors are all part of the village. If you're really lucky, you get villagers like Quynh, Jay and the twins to help you out.

Just before we left to take MVP to school, Quynh told us they were putting their house on the market in preparation for moving to Northern California for a job.

We are sad.

The plan is to have SB fly up to see them during the summer or spring break. I'll do everything I can to make it happen. Sometimes you have to travel to see your villagers!

Off topic but it's on my mind . . .

        Just Like Me? I'd Prefer Not!

Without going into specific political viewpoints, I'd like to make an observation. I keep hearing political pundits saying that women are going to love Sarah Palin "Because she is just like them."

Ummm, yeah. I don't want a  Vice-President (or President) just like me. I want someone smarter, more educated, and more experienced than me.

And this running a large family is similar to running a large corporation or The United States of America business? Ummmm, no. I've been pretty successful for about 20 years with the running a large family thing--I'm still not feeling qualified to be Vice-President (President). Thoughts?

Let Them Grow Up!

I've already made my feelings clear about wanting my kids to be independent. Apparently, it's not just my kids that I want to be independent, it's your kids too. What brings this up? Every year our high school does a thing called "kick-off." Natch, kick-off relies heavily on volunteers and even more natch, yours truly has been there, working diligently, every year since they started this.

Kick-off is held the week before school opens and is a chance for the students to turn in all their paperwork (downloadable on the 'net), buy ASB cards and P.E. clothes, get their schedules and pick up their textbooks. It makes the first day of school go a lot more smoothly. Even though I work kick-off, my kids always go on their own (there are staggered days and times to make things manageable--we are talking 1800 kids here).

Last Tuesday morning from 8-11 (for my regular readers, that would be the day after my first day of school and not too long after my energy-sapping 36 out of 96 hours in a car and yes, I do need my head examined) I was there for Freshman kick-off, manning Station 1, the paperwork station. I was a Gatekeeper. Your mom didn't sign your Zero-Tolerance form? No schedule for you!*

I would say that perhaps 10% of the kids came on their own. Amazingly, these kids were the ones that had everything together and projected a confident air. Another 10% of the kids had parents with them, but the parents stayed a respectful 5 feet behind them and let them handle everything on their own. The remaining 80%? Should have stayed home. 'Cause it was definitely the mom or dad show--they were treating their 9th graders (for those of you who can do the math, these kids are 4 years away from legal adulthood!) like toddlers.

Moms  and dads shoved their children aside to write the kid's name on the form I handed out that was to be carried station to station. This was after I explicitly directed every comment and question at THE STUDENT and handed THE STUDENT the form. They didn't let their kids look at the forms, much less turn them over to me. Digression: I'm assuming these were the same parents who didn't teach their kids to tie their shoes before they started elementary school. Yes, it's time-consuming and yes, it's easier to do it yourself. But for the teacher with 20 Kindergartners to teach? She can do a lot more teaching when she's not tying 20 pairs of shoes!

My point here? Let your kids grow up! Let them be anxious and nervous in a new situation and make it through that situation okay and say to themselves "Hey, I can do things on my own! I rock!" Every time you think your child can't possibly to something independently, think about this: In ____ years, they'll be off to college, or getting a job, or joining the military. Then count back from that and think about what they should be capable of doing on their own.

*Actually I did a lot of this: Looking straight into student's eyes, blinking like a gnat just flew into my right eye, saying "Go out to the parking lot where your mom is waiting and have her sign this and then come back to me." Wink, wink. For those that obtusely maintained their mother was not in the parking lot? Sorry, there's only so much I can do. Unless I personally know your mother; in that case I'm more than happy to forge her signature. 

That loud crash you heard? That was me falling off my soapbox!