Am I my mother?

Last night we all went to my niece's Sweet Sixteen party. Now, she went all out. The Grande Entrance and all!! Wow. It was like a wedding or maybe a coming out debutante ball. Except we don't really do the deb thing in this family. Actually, this was the first one I have been to.

It was tons of work and planning for my sister. I actually felt bad for her. But, it did turn out nice and the kids had fun, I think. I definitely think my niece had a blast.

But...the adults. Well, that's different. I did not know any of the music. Lots of rap type music. When something good did come on, it was quickly changed after a loud "ewww, no!" roar from the floor. My head is still carrying some type of beat, like the sound you hear from the car three cars behind you where you are feeling vibrations on your steering wheel. You know what I mean.

Thing is as I watched my 13 yo dancing (I sure didn't know she knew that move!! Much less the song!!) I realized I have become "a mom". Well sure, I have known I was a mom since my oldest was born over 23 years ago, but I wasn't "a mom". I was still a cool person, in the know, you know? I thought back then that I would never be out of the know. Nope, not me. I would keep up with trends, clothes styles, music, tv shows...yep, I was cool.

When did it happen? I didn't feel it happening. Surely, it must have been when I was sleeping. Really. I think I woke up one day and didn't know the world out there anymore. Wow. I am my mother. My father. Maybe even my grandmother!

I guess maybe I have seen a little of it coming, now that I am thinking about it. My daughter will look at my clothes sometimes and say, "uh, no mom. Not good". What?!!! Then, I get defensive and say, "well I am not in Jr. High!! I can't wear Abercrombie. They make their Larges like Smalls. Shows every little bulge!! Imagine what it might do to a slightly bigger than little one?" While I defend it, I do feel a twinge of loss of my youth. It passes, though.

I am getting older. We all are. This is what we are supposed to do. Right? Yes. But, that does not mean anything bad. On the contrary, it is good. I like that I am wiser. I am more comfortable with who I am, even the not-so-good side. I like that I have choices and I am in charge of them. I still grow, every day I learn something new and I am in awe that I did. I actually recognize it. I like my music. My choice of tv shows. My clothes need some help, but I tend to buy less for me because I do not work outside the home. But I will and when I do, I will have a field day shopping. Right now, it costs an arm and a leg to keep a teen happy with her clothes!

Yes, I am my mother, my father and my grandparents. And I like it.

Learning a new language is tough!

Boy oh boy! It is hard enough to keep up with the diverse languages in this country but in your own home? Geesh! First, I had to learn how to read a newborns mind. Easy enough, huh? Got that down and while I was still communicating in that language-BOOM! Toddler-ese comes along. That one was a little harder than newborn. This one truly depended on not only their moods, but mine too. It is really hard to continue to be frustrated at the little bundle when you know that they don't understand you. Toddlers? Different story. They do understand you, they just don't want to. Get through that! There are also subsets of that language such as; the paccie garble, the words-through-sobs language, the all-of-a-sudden-I-am-too-shy-to-speak language, and how about knowing when to distinguish a serious "mommy" over a not so serious one? Whew? I could be a child interpreter. I wonder if the FBI or the CIA needs one? I already have the experience.

But, wait! The adolescent language! Almost forgot that one. I wish I could have hired an interpreter for this lesson. Let me say this was truly the toughest one. It was like someone replaced the kids that were mine with some foreign beings. Overnight. I really did lock the windows and doors at night so the aliens didn't get in. Guess they don't pay attention to locks.

If you could get them to speak, it was either a "what do you know" language or a "do I have to?" whiny language. Oh yeah, let me not forget the "mom, I really love you, can I..." language. It was pretty predictable, which is a nice change because toddler-ese is so not!

Somewhere in there came high tech and the "IM, texting" language. It really does exist. It is just not a TV commercial for T-Mobile. This is how we communicate now:

Me: So, what time is the show?

Her: idk

Me: Where is it at? I need to know so that I can put it in my schedule. Are you getting a ride to or from? I will do one way but...

Her: MOM--OMG! Y? u said b4 that u wuld drv!!

Me: ok, just find the info out that I need so I know what is going on.

Her: k, mom, ily.

And they actually SAY the letters. Crazy. I can see why kids are struggling with learning how to spell. Spell check actually has a field day with that!



Unfortunately for the youngest, I know the language now. I am well versed and sometimes she pays for the past lessons. I have to be careful and realize every child is different. Yet, on the other hand, they are only a stone's throw from all being the same.

Things I hear from moms of toddlers...

This is funny, being the mom of adolescents and early twenties (whom are really not much more than adolescents in my book) listening to the comments from moms of young ones.

Me: Well, I have to get going, Taylor has a project to complete and she needs to go to her friends to complete it.

Them: What?!!! If my kids were going somewhere, I woulda left along time ago!

Me: Well, yeah, but it is to the point where, believe it or not, I am begging for her to stay home.

Them: Pfffttt, I doubt that will ever happen. I just want to pee in private--once.



Them: How did you ever do it with 4? I can't handle the two I have?

Me: I don't know. I drank alot? Not really, you just can't believe how fast time goes and all of a sudden you are at their graduation. Really. Maybe I was just on auto pilot.

Them: You're right. I don't believe it.


Them: Geez, you got your 13 year old a phone? I will NOT do that!! What does a 13 year old need a phone for?

I don't even argue that one because about a year ago, I agreed. Now, I have a fit if she doesn't have it on or doesn't answer it.


Them: I don't give my child any sugar at all. I don't want her to be fat. I don't want her to develop a taste for it.

Once again, the comment stays in my head. There are just some things that people have to learn themselves. Really, unless you will be homeschooling, they sell the stuff in the hallways. Good Luck. But, I guess the longer you keep them off it the less they have had it--makes sense. Plus, note the "child". When you only have one it is easy to stay on track. I think anyway. By the time my 4th (or could have been my third) came along, I didn't sterilize the pacifier when it fell on the floor at Target, I wiped it off on my pants and popped it back in. Crazy, huh?

There are many more and I will add them occasionally. It is funny to think that I once thought those thoughts.

Boy was I wrong!

Wow, I can't believe that I ever uttered the words, "I can't wait until my kids get older. It has to be easier". Yep, I did. Many, many times. Don't get me wrong. I love my children and I always have. Right from the get go. But...as all parents know, there are definitely trying times. Doesn't matter how many you have either. Although, I longingly looked at parents with only one or even two and thought, "now that's the way to go". Seems that I may have looked into the actual causes of pregnancy, but nahhhh. Nope. I figured that my mom handled 5 of us smoothly, so I could handle 4 for sure. Now I wonder, did my mom handle it smoothly or did I just think she did. Let's face it, I was a kid. I was doing kid things. What did I know? Really. I thought I knew everything, HA!

I digress. As they got older, certain things did get easier. Like poopy butts, dirty faces, skinned knees...that kind of thing. What I didn't count on was "that time of the month", pierced faces, or tattoos on their skin. Not my kids. I mean, c'mon, I sent them to a Catholic school! I guess it didn't scare them. It was true what the other parents said. They said that I would regret ever thinking I wanted them to grow up. I didn't believe them. Wow, was I wrong. Sorry.