FEET MEANS WHAT?

My second child is heading off to college, so I've been doing a lot of reminiscing over the past few weeks. Maddy chose to attend an all girls, catholic high school. She wanted to continue the smaller, private education she had experienced and enjoyed from K-8. Religion has always been part of her curriculum, so it was no surprise when she started as a Freshman that she would indeed have a Religion class for the next four years. Anyone that's read the Bible knows that its all open to interpretation. And those Catholics have some pretty staunch ideas and interpretations of some of the biblical stories. The Bible is also a little hard to digest as a 14yr old. Old English with the "thous" and "thees" and "hither" and "doth," makes it tough. After reading the "Book of Ruth" about 5 times she asked if I could just read it and tell it back to her in a regular way that she could understand. Her task was to contemporize the story for a modern day audience. OK, easy. It was only about 3 pages so I read it through and then walked back into her bedroom to re-tell it in a more understandable way. I said OK sis, here it is, this is the story of Naomi and her daughter in law Ruth. Both of their husbands die and they decide to move from Moab to Bethlehem, where Naomi has a distant, rich relative that might be able to help them. They arrive in Bethlehem and Naomi encourages Ruth to go work in the fields of Boaz (the rich relative) and work hard and maybe he will show her favor and give her food and water. Ruth does this. Boaz notices and compliments her hard work. He gives her food to take home to her mother in law and tells her that he knows about her traveling and taking care of her mother in law and he is impressed with her goodness. Make sense so far? "Oh yeah, good good, keep going, this is great." OK, so then once Ruth arrives home and gives the food and drink to Naomi, Naomi tells her that she should go to the threshing place and thank Boaz. I assume the threshing place is the local tavern. Naomi instructs her to wait until Boaz has finished eating and drinking and then lie down at his feet. I assume that is how Ruth shows Boaz that she knows she is below his station and that she is grateful for his kindness. At this point Maddy says "Oh Mom, feet means penis." What? No it doesn't! "Yes, Ms. Gorman told us that feet means penis." So when Jesus anointed the feet of his 12 disciples? That was really... "Oh no no no, feet means feet there, but feet means penis in the Book of Ruth." So then this is a story about her giving Boaz a blow job to thank him for the grains? I can't think of anything more contemporary than that sis. "Well yeah I guess Mom." Huh. 10 years of Sunday School and not once did I ever hear that feet means penis. "Well Ms. Gorman made a pretty convincing argument for it Mom, I kind of believed her." I need to meet this Ms. Gorman, she sounds like a hoot. Well the ending of the story is happy at least, Boaz ends up marrying Ruth, so that must have been some sort of feet meeting. Good on her.

I CAN DANCE MY ASS OFF YOUNGSTER.

I have been watching my nieces, 12y & 21y, for the last week and half while my twin sister is in Italy. My younger, 12 year old niece is a girl who likes her patterns. She is a fan of sameness, change is disruptive to her and upsetting. My sister shares this quality. One of the patterns that she LOVES is reality TV. Dancing with the stars is one of her favorite shows. This is not a show that I normally watch, but she enjoys it so much it made it really fun. This season's contestants included a wide range of ages and professions, the two that stood out to my niece were Kate Gosselin, of Kate + 8 fame and Pamela Anderson, an actress just famous for being a hot mess, but a surprisingly good dancer. Kate Gosselin was so bad and robotically stiff it made for great viewing and great mocking. When Kate danced to Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" my tummy hurt from laughing so hard. It begged the question "how did she even get pregnant with those kids?" She seemed completely disconnected from her body, exuded zero sexuality and held her arms like Frankenstein throughout the dance. It was painful. And hysterical. The converse of that was Pamela Anderson, very in touch with her body, very languid in her movements, very graceful. At this point in the show I said why don't they have dancing with real people? I would kill that. At which point my daughter jumped into the fray and said "are you kidding? you would be like Kate Gosselin, its all the about the hips with you Mom, you've got one move." Umm excuse me, not true. I totally rule at dancing. Then my 12 year old niece says "No Auntie, you would totally be Pamela Anderson!" She found this so hysterically funny that she fell off the couch laughing about it, literally holding her sides it was so funny. I said I am going to assume that is a compliment Emma and that you didn't just call me a whore, but that you are trying to say I would be graceful and excellent. Still laughing, couldn't respond. They need to have a Dancing with Real People, I could dance my ass off on that show.

GOD, I FEEL SO MUCH LIGHTER

This past weekend was similar to most of late, lots of infighting amongst the middle and youngest child over the car. The older one popping in and out just long enough to piss someone off and leave a wake of devastation in her bedroom and Lee and I just trying to find 5 minutes of silence amongst the noise. Every child, over the course of the last month has taken it upon themselves to let me know that they think I "spoil" the other children more or unnecessarily. My son went so far as to tell me that I am an "enabler" allowing the bad behavior of the oldest to continue to permeate the house and still housing and feeding her. Yeah, every one's an expert on parenting until they actually have to do it. Yesterday, for whatever reason, was the straw that broke this camel's back. I texted all the kids and said be at home by 530p. Mom has something to say. Furious texting of whys? what's wrong? Calls to the office, to my cell all going unanswered. I wanted them to stew on it for a bit. It is most definitely true, the old saying that goes, a mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child. There's another saying in my house that goes if mama ain't happy ain't nobody happy. It was time to take back a little of the power I had ceded to my children in an effort to compensate for all the drama in the household or just to keep everyone happy or countless other reasons. Here are the cliff notes of how the conversation went at the dining room table last night.

First, I don't want to hear one more word about my parenting. When you have your own children you can do it any god damn way that you want. I'm a great Mother and I am so sick and tired of the peanut gallery commenting on who's more spoiled, or who gets away with what or who has the car more. You are ALL spoiled in your own way.

Evan, thank you for all the cleaning that you do around the house. I really do appreciate it. But for the love of god, please, stop telling me how much you do it. If you don't genuinely want to do it, don't. Can you imagine how annoying it would be if I told you every time I did something that benefited you or this family? Was dinner good last night? I cooked that. Just me. Your cell phone working OK? I pay that bill. Was your shower warm? Cause I paid the water bill and the gas bill. Do you know why I don't say anything? I am genuinely happy to do it. If you don't want to do it don't. But there is nothing less appealing than a martyr. And unless you think you can turn weightlifting or bread consumption into a career that will actually pay you I suggest you take some of the limitless work ethic you seem to have for those 2 activities and apply it to your school work. I never see you pick up a book. You cant even get into your state University with your current GPA. In the real world people don't care what you say, they care what you do. Stop talking about it and do it.

And Madalyn, I cant afford the extra $200 a month for club volleyball, which is why I said 5 months ago that I couldn't afford $200 a month for club volleyball. You signed your name to that contract, and yet every month I write that check and I fret and worry about where I can cut, what I can stop doing to be able to afford that bill. Your bill. In the real world, when you sign your name to a contract you owe that money. Not when you have it, not when you can afford it, when its due. And if you don't have it, then you have to stop doing the thing that you are paying for until its paid. You don't get to go to the practices or participate in the games and you still owe the money. If I had that debt I wouldn't be planning surprise parties for my girlfriends I would be looking for a part time job on the weekends to pay that off.

And Jordyn, no where on the planet can you live in a house and not contribute to its upkeep or productivity. You don't do one single thing in this house unless you are specifically asked to do it. Try that in the real world when you live with a roommate and see how it works out. No one in their right mind is going to put up with that. You are not going to school. Get a full time job. Lots of people don't go to college, but then guess what? They get a full time job and they start their life. Working for the man.

And then I wrapped it up with this little morsel, in my misguided, well-intentioned effort for you all to have more than I had as a kid I have unwittingly created children with little to no work ethic. You guys are takers. I would have done anything to help my Mom out when I was your age. I did chores and I didn't get an allowance. I didn't ask for one either, I knew she couldn't afford it and she was already working 2 jobs most of the time. Shame on you. You all have so much and you are so busy worrying about what the other one has or does or doesn't do you aren't even asking yourself what YOU are contributing. Alot of stunned silence. God, I feel so much lighter.

I'M GONNA PRACTICE BEING MORE OF A TEAM PLAYER

The eldest child didn't do as well as she needed to on her SAT test to ensure entrance into the University of Oregon. Why did she need an extra high score you ask? She has a 3.0 GPA, minimum GPA for acceptance to U of O is 3.4 for in state applicants. Now I don't wanna be a book learnin or numbers snob, but that's not exactly unattainable. She lacks a solid work ethic. I blame myself. So as she strolled into the house from her oh-so-tiring 2 1/2hr a day part time job she was positively gleeful with her new plan for moving out. Hmm. "OK Mom, Dad I have a plan. I make about $700 dollars a month at my job and I found a place for only $600 a month." I said oh well what about your cellphone bill and your gym membership? "Yeah, yeah, I know, those add up to $120 dollars a month." Wait for it. Give it a minute. Add the 2. I said, um well I'm no math whiz, but my rough little numbers in my head estimates that you'll be about $20 short every month. Before you pay your utilities. And eat. I got that oh so familiar eye roll and face of disdain. One searingly angry look that seems to say why are you such a hateful woman that just wants to crush my dreams? In the interest of trying to be more supportive, I said listen I'm not trying to rain on your parade or crush your idea. "Well it sure sounds like that!" I said I just want you to be realistic. How will you eat every month? "I don't know." (I do) Do you have any idea what you spend on food now (not at home, cause we know that's free) when you go out with your friends? And does it include ALL utilities? I'm fully aware that when I ask the question she has no idea which monthly bills fall into the "utilities" category. Blank look of disappointment from the daughter. I said OK Jord, let me know what you figure out. Sounds great so far. I'm gonna go practice being more of a team player.

THIS AINT MIDDLE SCHOOL.

God, you just cant make shit up sometimes. Had to get braces on Monday. Yes, braces at 43. Top that. My teeth are crazy straight, its not for that, I have been, apparently, grinding my teeth for some time. Little bit of stress I guess. I'm blaming the children. I know you're supposed to take the high road when you're a Mom and say oh its not you guys, sometimes things just happen, but guess what? It is. Its you god damn kids. You children have no idea how much we worry about you every second of every day, even when you are mean to us. Prior to getting them on, I was looking for a little support, a couple of "oh moms, its gonna be fine, its not as bad as you think, etc." Whatever, just lie to me. No such luck. The sweet middle child said "oh god, that sucks for you. Braces at 43? I thought middle school was bad. Oh boy." Yes, that's the sweet one. The inside of my mouth is completely ripped apart and I was bitching about it, and my son said "Mom, guess what? Eventually you will learn to use your lips & mouth differently so it doesn't hurt." I was like, really? "Yes, really. Its only gonna hurt for like another week and then you're gonna be fine." From his mouth to the brace god's ears. In the mean time, I'm going to continue to eat soup. I never realized how much I like food. I miss food. Soup is not food. So while I am eating soup over the next week or so I am going to imagine it being a big fat juicy steak or something else delicious. And I WILL not hesitate to give it back to anyone that wants to take this opportunity to make fun of me. This ain't middle school.

ANIMAL LOVER OR OPPORTUNITY MAKER?

My son came home from his friend Phil's house last week positively obsessed with getting a french bulldog puppy. Phil has 2. Apparently the cutest dogs on the planet. We have a dog. A very large Rottweiler Lab mix. He's the best dog ever. Why do we need another dog? This was the crux of his argument. "Mom, they are so cute. I will make so many memories with my dog. I can get one of those things you carry small babies in on your chest with and put him in there." A baby Bjorn? "Yeah, that thing. I will get so many chicks Mom, it will be unbelievable." Ahh, OK. Lightbulb. So this isn't really about a new puppy obsession, its about a continued chick obsession and how to draw them in more rapidly? "Umm well yeah Mom. But the dog is just so cute. Its win win. I will do everything." Let me think about it and talk to Daddy. I don't really need one more thing to care for in this house. "Mom, I will do it all. Please. He can sleep with me. Just think about all the memories I will be making." Memories you will be making? Dude, do you hear yourself? "Yes, Mommy I know. I just want one SO badly." God he's cute. I had to at least applaud both his continued tenacity and imagination for getting chicks and his desire to have something all his own to raise. Having to care for something or someone generally teaches you some pretty good lessons.

The kids generally gather in our bedroom every evening around bedtime, just to chit chat and hang out. Lee likes it for about 5 minutes and then he wants everyone out. The faster the better. So he had just kicked everyone out of our room and we were getting ready for bed, and the boy needed to print out something on the family computer, which is currently housed in Madalyn’s room. He walked in and apparently was hit with an unpleasant smell; this is the conversation that ensued. You cannot make it up. “Jesus Christ, which one of you two farted? It smells like ass in here.” Jordyn began laughing, a clear sign of guilt. “ Next time go to the bathroom, that is so gross.” She said, “You fart in front of me ALL the time.” He said, “yeah, I’m a dude, I can do that. You’re supposed to be a lady. Go to the bathroom.” “Let me get this straight, if I have to toot, you want me to go out of whatever room I am in, walk to the bathroom and toot in there? I’m in Maddy’s room, I can toot if I want.” He said, “Yes, go to the bathroom. And don’t toot in my presence.” She said, “how come you can fart all you want, wherever you want but I have to go to the bathroom? That doesn’t seem fair.” “Fair? When you’re in MY presence its not about what’s fair, its about what I say. And I say I don’t want to smell your nasty ass toots. So be a lady and go to the bathroom.” She began boisterously laughing at this point. I began boisterously laughing at this point, the entire conversation was happening across the hall from our bedroom. When Jordyn regained her composure, she said, “Well why is everything about you?” He’s like, “don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to little lady. It IS about me, because I’m the king after Dad.” Awesome. It was hysterical, but it was also about 1115p by this time and I wanted the conversation to end so I said hey Ev you know what the largest organ in my bedroom is? Racing towards his room with his hands over his ears he said, “No. Mom. Stop. OK.” It’s your DADS PENIS! That is just never gonna get old.