SPRUNG!!!

It has been a while since I blogged.  I am now a reluctant participant because my blog was revealed!!  I am not sure who, where, how??? but I will find out!!!

It began one evening, close to a month ago.  Alex was sitting in one of our huge, huggy, smothering armchairs.  I walked in and she barely glanced up.  Nothing new there!!  I moved about the room and made inane conversation.  Occasionally she looked up but no REAL reaction.

"What you doing?"  As she looked up from the ipad, must be on some new app, I blindly thought. No answer.  She returned to her toil.  About 3/4  of an hour later, I returned.

"What ARE you doing?"

"Reading your blog, Mum!!!!!"


"Ooouuuuuoohhhhh?"

"  funny........... huh?"   I questions, hopefully.

"No!"  Very definate reply!

"Why not??"  vaguely whiney voice- mind that screams "oh SHIT!  What did I say?????"

"You mocked me, Mum"

" Oh come on!  Its funny!"

"No, its not!!!!"

"You know, Kate says we can make a book out of a blog..... when you're older you will think this kind of record is cool"

"you mocked me, Mum!"

"Yeah, but I mocked me too?" 

She went to her room, then went to sleep for the night.  The blog has not been mentioned since and hence, my reluctance to revisit my formally therapeutic, parental outlet.

Yes, I mock.  However, I believe it is about 50/50- her and me.

Oh,  this is funny, funny stuff!! Why didn't I have heaps of kids?  

Damn You Auto Correct.

Since the drivers license this new found freedom has been embraced and Alex heads off without my having to run around after her (or get up at the crack of dawn)  part of me loves it.  The other part hates every moment!  I want control!  I accept that I need to  attend Control Freaks Anonymous, but I still want it!!

I have tried to remind (nag) Alex that she needs to tell me she has arrived certain places, especially when she leaves well before dawn to go to rowing.  She, for a variety of reasons- all interesting, some amusing and some even plausible, regularly forgets.

I worry.  Its what Mums do.

In the last two weeks, I have become a txt stalker.  (see how cool I have become saying txt instead of text?? It's a big step for me!!)

Txt 6.39am "are you there yet?"         Better be, should have been there before six
Txt 7.01pm "So you are upside down in a ditch, I take it?"

Reply 8.21am "I am here.  Sorry i was late"

Two days later- txt 6.47am "So, same ditch or different ditch?"
8.50am  Reply "I txt u when I got to school"                - Yeah right!

The next rowing morning-

txt 6.24 am "there yet?
Txt 7.12am "Kooooszio"
Txt 7.21am "What is that?"  Yes, if you have worked out the pattern, txt means I sent it.     I had sent the weird Koooszio and then asked what it meant.  At that hour of the morning I can't blame the drink!

Next day I was prepared, so as she left I txt her
Txt-5.17am "don't forget to text"
Txt 6.25am "Alex???"
Txt 8.20am "Next time you forget, you lose the car of 3 days, this is not good enough alex"

Then!!  only 3 days later!

Txt 6.16 "so how are you getting to rowing for the next 3 days"

I don't think I am unreasonable (although others in my house do!!!) I think I am winning.

This morning, I got a txt that she had arrived, but no goodbye as she left, just gone.

Then a cryptic txt arrives from Alex at 7.53 "I am sadly walking to skewl"

What the...?????  I ring.
"What?  What is wrong??  Why are you sad??  Why are you sadly walking to school?"  a little panic hysteria creeping in.  I can hear it in my own voice.  Something is wrong!

"No Mum, that should say safely- safely walking to school.  You told me to txt,  I'm txting- I just can't win, can I?"
Damn you auto-correct!!

A Bottle Not Found

I had developed a bit of a 'maybe it is, maybe it isn't' sore throat.  I decided to buy a sipper pump bottle so that I could at least sooth it with frequent drinks, without too much hassle.

I put it in our fridge and in the deep, dark recesses of the night decided it would be just the trick to help me out with the mini microwave burn working away in the back of my throat.  I went to the fridge and......NOT THERE.  I put it there, I knew it was there and yet.....??

Alex had rowing in the morning so that evening I asked her about my sipper bottle.

"Do you know where my water bottle is?"  I ask

"Yes, I have it."

"why do you have it?" 

Teenage logic - " I didn't have one!"

" But it was mine"  I reply

"Yes, but I didn't have one"

"I bought it for myself"

"Yes, but I didn't have one"  eyework that suggest mother is a moron!

"Yes, that's fine, but I bought it for myself"

"But I didn't have one, my old one is wrecked, I didn't have a drink bottle"   all this like she is talking to a half wit, almost whispered, moving up really close.

" I didn't have one"  she says (if she squeezes my cheeks, I swear I will punch her)

"BUT! ITS! MINE!"

"Oh Mum!"  (insert rueful chuckle)  " you just have to learn to ssshhhhaaarrreee!"  All said with the conviction of an Amway soaked, evangelist found, backwater hippy on prozac!  "Just share"  she drawls with a whisper (mostly for dramatic effect) and I have to wonder,  am I being had?  By someone much smarter?  Have the aliens invaded my teenager?

Grand Gestures

I guess because Mothers have always been the solvers of all problems- large, small, imaginary....... it is to Mothers that we turn when it all hits the fan.

Last week Alex was involved in a sports tournament.  The night before she was as organised as could possibly ever be imagined, bags packed, lunch made, drink bottle in the fridge- she was good to go in the morning.  And go she did. 

An hour later by urgent text "forgot lunch'

"I'll bring it"

"water 2"

I decided to ring and talk- it's quicker!

Mother "Oh darling, you were so organised, what a shame, blah, blah"

Child  "Yeah, I know"  After ruling out the buy lunch option-

Mother  "I will bring your lunch to you.  Where are you playing?"

Child  " Waitakere Trust Stadium" 

FOR REAL?????  Imagine, if you will, a city, to the furtherest reaches of the south a mother toils at her job.  At the extreme west end of the city a daughter realises she has forgotten lunch.  Imagine the harbour that means the mother has to go to the centre of the city to then go the the western extreme.....! 

Next grand gesture.  Saturday morning, rowing

Text from strange phone number "my keys are in Hamilton'

"What?"

"on trailer to Hamilton"

How?  What?  Why? again, I phone only this time to a strange number.  Alex answers. 
How?
What?
Why?

Apparently it is 'easier' to just throw your keys on the trailer as you come in to the rowing sheds!!!  The trailer left, on its way to Hamilton.

So my Saturday is shot.  I cancel the vet who is doing a home visit for our ancient cat.  I re-organise the day and take the keys.  When I get there, the gate is locked so I have to walk (as if from South to West)  She is out on the water so I leave the keys with a random coach and hope to heck this is sorted as I race off to do all the jobs lined up.

I have concluded that Mothers are the only people you can go to for the grand gesture, they will bring you your lunch, pick you up if you are sick, deliver spare keys, pick up forgotten phones, buy you things that their best judgement says 'NO'.  Mothers- if you have one, look after them!

Drinking and Driving

This past weekend she was invited to a 16th birthday party.  In my uncool way, I managed to make all things bad!

The big decision related to whether to stay the night at a friends house or to have me pick her up, since she can't drive after 10pm on a restricted.

We discussed options-

"okay, if you pick me up, I can drink"   -what???  where???  when??  Who said anything about drinking????

"What were you planning to drink?"  Cool, non-judgemental, as if THAT was going to happen!!!

"Well, the other kids will be drinking but if I stay at Courtney's, I will have to drive to rowing in the morning, so I won't be able to drink"   Where is this logic coming from??

"how much were you planning to drink?"

"you know that MUM!  you told me I could have 1 beer"  that is true but I had thought she would be at least 35 when that happened!!

"So, (relying on earlier logic) you won't be able to drink if you have to drive to rowing in the morning (that whole 1 beer) so what would you like to do?"

" Well...... if you come and get me, what time will you come?"

"That is easy, the invitation says it finishes at 11.30."

" That doesn't mean you come at 11.30!!"

"In my world it does!!!!"  What is it with kids and time and good manners????

"okay" comes the reply.... " I think I would be better to stay at Courtney's"  BINGO, BULLS EYE and other celebrationery statements!!  Sensible parents collecting her, no drinking because she has to drive the next day and less worry for me about collecting her from the other side of town at close to midnight.  Also- I won't be the uncool parent who arrives at the right time to collect her!!!

"so" I say,  based on earlier teenage logic "you won't be able to have that 1 beer because you have to drive to rowing in the morning and the restricted license is now zero alcohol"

" I KNOW Mum!!  Do you think I don't understand these things?"


I love and value the innocence and know it won't be forever but bless the seriousness of my child!

And All of a Sudden, the Season is Over!

Our last game of the season.  The torture is over!!  :)

It is hard to feel disheartened when the girls in the team are so delightful....... and so oblivious.  I have cut and pasted this report from my game summary back to the sports manager at the school (for your reading pleasure)




We had a fantastic game with Steph scoring her first goal of the season  (with much celebration- even from the boys teams waiting to play next) she was reasonably cool about it, only clapping herself briefly.   Out of no where, Yoanna scored a three pointer!!  Then ran to hug Ashleigh and danced around and then thumbs up to Steph and Alex.  During this celebration the opposition bought the ball in, down the court and scored.  The girls didn’t notice they were too absorbed in their excitement.  In the dying seconds of the game, Alicia scored her first goal of the season and the gymnasium erupted with everyone clapping and cheering and jumping around.   Alicia did a dance of celebration which actually involved her lifting her arms above her head, which has not happened a lot this season and everyone high 5-ed each other- including the opposition.  Alicia’s grin lit up the room for the rest of the time we were there.

The girls were delighted at the end of the game and after much admiration of each others skills and replaying of their best moves, they agreed that this had been the best game of the season.

None of this is made up.  




The score was 77.......................... to 7 

A Basketball Post- for Kate.

I have been a martyr this year.  Alex's school needed a basketball coach and once upon a time, in a previous life, I had been an athlete with a more than passing knowledge of basketball.  They knew that.  A little applied pressure, moments of 'you don't spend any time with me' pressure and I caved. 

I was the official coach of the Open Girls Basketball team.

Sounds high level, with your own team physio type stuff.  It was not.

My team, except for Alex are beginners.  I quickly realise I have done her NO favours volunteering.  She should not be in this team- but hey! They needed a coach.

My sweet, lovely, beginner, private school, white girls are playing in a South Auckland competition in the Open competition against girls who could be up to 19 and make me look slim and athletic!!!  The opposition teams would enable someone to make squillians of dollars from culture and class lessons!!  We began with some optimism.

We get our arse kicked.  Our worse was 136 -  6

Sometimes when we finally get a goal, my girls jump and clap.  I jump and clap.  I tell them how good they are going.  They are not but we are excited that the ball finally went in!!!.

Some of my best coaching lines- (I should be selling this motivational stuff!!!!!!)

Pass it to people wearing BLUE!  You are in the BLUE team!
Stop crying! You are not being MEAN if you contact them- that is the game!
I know we are getting whipped, but just imagine THEM in ball gowns????
It's okay, you only have to go on for another 15 minutes...it'll be okay?????!
Lets try to get the ball over half way this quarter!
This one, said excitedly-   It's the last quarter- we can double the score!!!  (2 to 4!)
Its not how good you are playing, it is how good you look!!!!  (thanks Peg!)
Man!  You guys have improved SOOOO much!
Okay, our aim for this quarter is to make sure we only pass to our own team
Remember that thing we practiced where you look and then pass...?
Seriously?  You don't want to go on???
Stay away from that enormous, stroppy one with tattoos,  that keeps swearing
Just don't get hurt or bruised! (this the week before their school ball)
Try to remember when you stop bouncing, you can't start again.....
I think we could have won this one if......(insert utter lies and positive ups)
STOP SAYING SORRY!  You haven't done anything when you bump into them.

When I come to work after a game, I regale Kate with the Mighty Ducks basketball atrocity and she laughs. 

Doesn't she realise this is SERIOUS!!  I take losing VERY badly but we are seriously out of our league and someone elses league and the league of nations and 20 000 leagues under the sea and any other league ever invented!!!

I meet one of these sweet, lovely girls' mothers the other day for the first time, she told me how much her daughter had enjoyed playing basketball.........

I had no reply.

The Totally Brilliant, One Hundred Dollar Plan.

"I have hidden $100 in your room and if you clean it, you might find it."

Totally brilliant plan that I imagined would lead to frenzied emptying, cleaning, moving, sorting......."

All that happened was she spent more time than normal in her room and the array of floordrobe items changed on an hourly basis.  A week passed.

"Where have you put it?  Can you give me a hint?  I have cleaned evvvveeerrryyytttthhhiiinnnnggggg.  Pleeeeeeeease Muuuuuummmmmmmmm?

"It's in there.  When you clean properly, you will find it"  - yes, cryptic and firm.  I high five myself!

More cleaning, more consternation.   The drawers get new labels, I can see the top of the dressing table- waahooo!  I am winning??? 

The weeks pass and the room is in varying stages ranging from average to foul cleanliness.  My bribe has run its course so I take it back. 

Now, my true error- I tell her I have taken it.

"WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN MY MONEY?? That is not fair, you have taken MY money and you said I could have it.  You always do this!  You took MY money."  My head nods, I appear to listen.  I vaguely hear all the regulars trotted out (mean, unfair, uncool, strict- did I mention uncool?)

but I am busy planning how I am going to spend my newly acquired $100.

For my next trick I am going to tell her I have hidden a 800kg Bull in her room and if she decides to air the room by opening the windows or the french doors one day, she might find it......

The Never Ending Story......

Recently I made a mistake.  I let Alex have some itunes purchases for cleaning her room.    Or…… I linked compliance that day, to reward.  

 In the immortal words of Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman “Big mistake!  Huge!”

Next time she needed to clean her room she said ‘can I have some itunes’  I considered and whilst doing some work, on the phone, I wrote a cryptic message:

Clean room = happy Mum = itunes.

As I have found out I should have written in a more academic and confusion reducing way:

Clean room[1] + happy Mum[2] = itunes[3]

My child could not understand that the instant appearance of the credit card did not coincide with the moment that the room looked ‘moderately’ clean.  I suffered from Teenage Hell statement bombing….

“You said….”

“But you wrote…”

“It didn’t say that!”

“you never said I had to……”

“Why do you always change the rules?”

“Mum, that’s not what you said!”

HUFF, STOMP, SLAM!  

---

[1] Clean room- constantly clean, not just done once with most of the stuff put into the wardrobe and the drawers crammed randomly with junk, the bed rising off the floor because of overstuffing.

[2] Happy Mum-  contented, over a long period of time, the absence of ants, rubbish, general clutter and the drawers being accessible so items can be found by one drawer being opened.

[3]  itunes-  songs I approve of, without random sexual content and swear words; which work as a reward for the longevity of room cleanliness and all-round wonderfulness.  Given as a reward for the clean room + happy Mum concept.

Oxford dictionary- Clean room (n) a place where bio-hazards are absent.  Order reigns.  Resembles page from New Zealand House and Garden.  Could be used as show home.  Smell very unlike old socks.

I am touched...

On so many levels....

Not only touched by the magic wand of lunacy but also touched that so many people have asked why I hadn't blogged for ages!  I kind of thought blogging was a bit like peeing in a wetsuit  (you are the only one warmed by it) but NO, I finally have a following!

I am the Charles Manson, the Bert Potter, the Hone Harawira (nah! not Hone!!) of teenage hell, without the killing, random acts and weird stuff of course!!!

I pledge to you, my readers that I will now follow my teenager around 24/7 to find funny stuff to share with you.  I have a cause and I have following- I will not let you down.........

Corporate Punishment

 
It's been a while.  I have waited.  We have had many moments but not those deep belly laugh moments that I have found in the past.
We have been overseas together, her and I, alone.  Very little funny stuff.
Today, at last I had a funny! 
We were eating breakfast and were talking generally.  Chatting about the news and what was happening and to whom.  She came out with another 'erotic driver' saying.  "Oh, that must be like Corporate Punishment"  

"What did you say?"

"Corporate Punishment"

"What is that?"  I ask, trying not to give away that I was about to explode in mocking laughter. 
Is that what happens when Finance Companies go bad and the Government has to bail them out? 
What happens when you get caught smuggling ‘documents’ out of Argentina for your secret internet lover?
Why Mark Ellis had to take Ecstacy because the Corporate Punishment at 'Charlies' had bought him downnnnn......
When the poor and downtrodden have paid too much taxes and the Government have excess so can buy a plastic WAKA?


Possible forms of Corporate punishment- 

When someone is really annoying you at work and you lean over and staple things to their head.  Your turn, come on now....

Want to come with us? We're going to buy a gun?

Saturday afternoon and wet.  We had to go and pick up a rifle that Ian had bought to sort out random magpies and other vermin.


'Why don't you come?  It'll be fun" I lied to the teenager, through ever yellowing teeth.  "Okay Mum, then you can drop me off at babysitting."  Man, she is a planner....

On the way into town it was chatty.  Just the rubbish you talk when you are trying to involve a teenager in conversation.  Most of it starting with 'So.......'  Stuff like....

"So..... how has school been going?"
"ok"


"So.... what are your friends doing tonight?"
"nothing"

"So.... what do you think about teenage abortion?"

"Well of course Mum abstinence  is the best option, but for those unfortunates who find themselves in this situation, they should talk to their mothers and seek the best outcome with them, because Mums know best...."  (no.... not really.....just ever hopeful....)

Yes, all was going well.  We pulled up at a house, so unlike our own.  The neighbours literally breathed the same air, the houses were closer than close and we parked in the driveway.

Ian went in, to do man buying gun stuff.

'Hey look Mum, what is that man doing?"  she pointed to a window of a house ridiculously close to the driveway we were parked in "WHAT IS HE DOING???!!!??"  I looked, I really tried hard to see "where????....."
"Nope" she said," he has disappeared............there he is!  See the pink shirt!  See Mum!"  I saw.  It was not good.

Crips!  I hope that was exercise.  Perhaps a few fast reps of....????,  push ups????  Chest crunchie things???

He disappeared again and I was almost relieved.  No, damn it!  He popped up again, did another set of ?????? and took a rest.

Please Ian, please come NOW, please before pink shirt man pops up again and teenage imagination figures out what may well be going on.....

Pink shirt man disappeared again.  It occurred to me it might not be a pink shirt!!  Oh doG, poke out my minds eye!!!!

Ian arrived back in the car and we did the 'look, look, look, see??, look, see??'

He is so much cooler than us he just went "there?  oh yeah, looks dodgy, bad pink shirt" We backed out of the driveway and he started up the street.

Partial relief - thank doG it was a pink shirt!!!

We drove on.  Out of the street.  Out of the suburb.  Out of their world......

Those freaky town dwellers!

As if I don't have enough strangeness to deal with...................??????

I'm a What??

Yesterday we went to the supermarket and the carpark was moderately full.  I drove in, changed my mind, changed direction, changed again, selected a carpark, saw one closer, went in that direction.

"Mum, you're a very erotic driver!" 

One hand on the steering wheel, the other behind my head, I tried to pull off the model pose, I moved my opposite hip up and down, pursed my lips,  trying to look like and erotic driver.....

"You're weird!  What are you doing?"........ pause, thinking, thinking, what is my weird mother doing? what??.......

"No, thats not the right word is it?"  ......" that means like porn and stuff doesn't it?" 

"Yes Darling, the word is erratic, but thank you anyway.  I think I am a pretty erotic driver too."

All Before 6am!

This morning was a rowing morning and as such we were up before 5am to get there on time.  I had told Alex she needed to do more driving and she went over to get the Rav from the shed.

She is a morning person.

I am not.

Still half asleep I stumble into some clothing, its dark, I don't care, something off my floordrobe.  Can't find shoes- oh well, its only driving.  Don't need shoes. 

Leave house, still half asleep, no phone,  no wallet.  Just there and back.  I'll be awake by the time I have to drive.

We set off and the driving is a little erratic.  We were slow, fast, slow, fast, slow, slow 'don't forget to dip the lights', slow, slower.  We got to a slight rise and a red light.  Stalled.  Fast thinking mother relayed instructions in terse, crisp manner.  We got going.  One other car made it through the lights.

My next waking moment was a close call with a power pole and more instruction 'POWER POLE!  YOU HAVE TO CONCENTRATE'  By this stage I had heart palpitations and my mouth was dry. 

The next corner, we take the curb- it's the same curb that has caught us out before.  I am AWAKE!  We stay in the left lane of 3 and let the cars behind us pass.


They do, we change lanes and follow.  Both cars that had been behind us, one since the red light failure, turn into rowing, we follow.  "Oh, those people have seen your driving this morning"  thinking she would be mortified or at least vaguely embarrassed.  "I don't care!!!!"   .......Yikes, I was just going to give the pep talk about not caring what other people think/say/do.

As we come down toward the shed, there is a hard 90 degree right turn, we drift this corner, seriously, wheels slide, gravel flying, steering wheel correction like a pro.  I clutch the door with both hands and make a silent scream, my knuckles white.

"Pull over here"  Now gone beyond palpitations and into full cardio arrest.  She stops.

"Okay........"  What to say?  Give me words..  "Not so good this morning.  Need a bit  more practice huh??" 

"Yeah. Oh, by the way, we don't have much petrol."

I glance down "Holy petrol producing nations having civil wars!!!!!"  I wouldn't say that's not much!  I would say that's NONE!  It was under E.  Not E for enough, E for Eeeekkkkk!

E for no monEy,
E for no shoEs,
E for no phonE,
E for grabbed whatEver off the floor to wear.

I wish I hadn't looked.  I drove the 30ish kilometres back to my house frantically trying to remember all those petrol saving tricks my Dad had told me over the years, I coasted, I turned off the air conditioner, I tried to maintain an even speed about 90km, I tried not to look down- but still did!

As I traveled along planning what I would do at each stage if I ran out.  The motor kept going.  I made it Clevedon where I contemplated going into the service station I normally use and talking to Akshat or Imran or Pooja to get some free petrol  

"You remember me?  I drive the new Calais.  You call me 'Loarf' (love), I always fill here.  Just ignore my lack of footwear, my old surf T-shirt with paint on it and the unmatching dress skirt with wrinkles, I just need enough to get me home, it is so far under E it has started digging."  My pride got in the way.  I would not beg to our Indian servo boys "here take my watch, I'll be back........"

I made it home.  I don't know how.  I think the car must have been running on the smell of someone elses oily rag.

What have I learned?  Hope for the best, plan for the worst and stash $20 somewhere under the seat!  And if in doubt..... don't look down!

But.......

She really is quite delightful and if you are reading this blog thinking it is all hell, it is not. 

She is a very kind, sweet typical teenage kid.  Even better!  She loves me and she needs me- just in a different way to how it use to be. 

And if you are asking where this deeply insightful thought has come from?  Yep, its wine!  It's Friday.  Rugby is on and wine is following.

Oh, that and......... she is away for the weekend.

I Don't Remember You Asking Me To Do That!

Why is the sour cream still on the table?

Why is that wet towel still on the floor?

Why is the cat still sitting beside the bowl looking hopeful?

Why is the washing still on the line?

Why is the archeological dig that is my car, still full of her random stuff?

I know what I said, I know we made eye contact and still........ nothing........

What is going on?

Theory 1.  The task is way to complex as it IS hard to line up the fridge with the sour cream container.  

Theory 2.  The ipod has ruined her hearing.

Theory 3.  It is the  general breakdown of civilisation as we know it, one teenager at a time.

Theory 4.  It's my mothers fault.

Theory 5.  I need to introduce fish oil tablets into her diet.  Tried this once but apparently they tasted REVOLTING - like fish even!!!

Theory 6.  She was reading a text or thinking about her last Facebook conversation and my voice was 'blah, blah, blah, sour cream, blah, blah"

Theory 7.  Stupid song lyrics have stolen her waking thoughts and they are repeating in her head. in her head, in her head, head, head, in her head, better off dead, so listen instead.....

Theory 8  In the night, in her biohazard bedroom, life forces build civilizations inside her ears. 

Theory 9.  That Vivaldi music I played her as a baby, to increase the Alpha rays and her brain function actually  erased all active memory cells.  "Hmmm what sour cream, what fridge, who is this woman nagging me......."

Theory 10.  It means NOTHING to her, seems pointless and is not worth the time it takes to register the request and there aren't really any consequences anyway so
"
.......I am going to wander off
go the have a shower,
cause I want to,
right now,
why is she looking at me like that? 
Must be because I am wearing her shirt,
didn't think she would notice.
Oooohhhh, there is something shiny,
and here is a mirror
what's in this drawer?
Cool, my favourite TV show....."

It's My Car, It's My Radio!!!!!

I lack the generational understanding that comes with songs that repeat the last word of each sentence- over and over.   I can however, come up with some REALLY funny mixes of words that 'sound like' what is being blasted out of our car stereo.   Mostly it is mocking and not received well.

'Are they talking about me when they say sexieeeeee?'

"No!  MUM!"

I am trying to understand how MY car radio has been hijacked by radio stations that talk utter rubbish and that the only volume to be had is that decibel just over the normal rate of conversation.   That means anything said in the car is YELLED.  Then, strangely enough, when I turn the volume down,  the conversation is maintained at the YELLED rate.  Are our kids so use to listening to ipods that we have deafened an entire generation or two?

"I would catch a grenade for ya"  -really?  Then I hope you would be quick enough to throw it back before it exploded!

"gonna kick him to the curb unless he looks like Mick Jagger"- He was old and ug (and short) when I was young, so what is the deal?????


"its like an eyeball stuck on my plate...."  Which actually turned out to be saying 'an ipod stuck on replay' but I think mine sounds closer.  Go ahead, listen.


Did my parent say what rubbish these songs are?  Yes they did!!

Am I turning into my parents.........no............

"Alex, did you know that song said 'love you' 52 times?"

'You counted??? You're weird Mum"

"No, not so weird, its just the words of the song are so uninspiring I have to do something to keep myself awake!  Can we pleeeeeze go back to the stock market review on the old people station?" 



 

Santa's Little Helper

Just before Xmas, Alex and I were driving along,  locked in the same car (that coupled with the 'if I am good, I will get good loot' aspect) she was VERY chatty.  We discussed 'cool mother's'

'everyone thinks she is cool'
'she wears cool clothes'
'she is more like a sister'    Oh doG- spare me!!!
'she lets her kids  __________" insert SO many things, start with your own personal pet hates.
'she doesn't really growl'   must have some seriously good drugs then???

'Oh well,'' I said "lucky you have such a cool Mum"  this was greeted by silence, then in sad 40 something desperation  

"I'm cool????????"

I immediately wished I had shut up and basked in the silent glory of knowing,  I AM cool, I have ALWAYS been cool and I don't need a 15 year old to validate me.

'No, Mum.  Not really"  came the reply in tones that you would use for breaking to someone the death of their cat.    If she mentioned how cool the other Mum was I was going to pull over and chuck her out in the mean streets of South Auckland!!!  Maybe even by the hair.

We drove on.

Silence stretched, we passed a house with blow up Santa sleighs on the roof and Xmas lights and 'house bling' (word I have now invented) of all description.   One of the larger pieces was a blow up sleigh- Santa,  Reindeer,  presents and rather randomly, a penguin perched on the back of the sleigh, hanging on to Santa.  It was exceptionally windy for December and the wind was catching the random penguin and making him rock back and forth, at pace, in rather a suggestive manner.

I laughed, pointed and said "Hey, check out the penguin that is humping Santa".  Dead silence!  Followed by a sigh and a slow turn of the head.

"Mum.  You are trying too hard."

I wanted to burst out laughing, slap my leg, throw my head back and roar with laughter.  Instead I chuckled with unmoving lips and used resistance exercise to tighten the muscles on my face that threatened to expose mockery. 

So many things begged to be said!!! 

She is darn lucky I am this cool!

The Massive Wobbly....

Alex was home for a rather brief time these school holidays and in between a stint at the beach with her buddies and rowing camp there were things for her to do, such as laundry, rubbish ridding...... the ever present BEDROOM tidy.

Since she was only home for 3 days in between, I began to ask on the first day about the "above normal tasks that this poor child would be expected to attend to"!!!!!


"......have you done your washing?"
".....you will need to do some washing?"
"......what clothes are you taking?"
".......what the hell is this and why is it moving across the floor and leaving a slick?"

And..........

After many repeated conversations (if me saying, and her appearing to listen, is a conversation???) nothing happened.

Eventually, enough was enough and I said 'we are going to do your room'   After the lead balloon hit the proverbial floor, we started (well I started)
Time elapsed and 1 rubbish bag, 1 full laundry hamper, 1 made bed, 1 mostly clear floor, 1 wardrobe with visual floor later things (in my mind) were coming together.

I asked Alex to get the Spray and Wipe and clean a mark off the wall.  She squirted with no consideration for the carpet directly in line and finally  the patience snapped.

"DON'T SPRAY DOWN THE WALL ONTO THE CARPET IT WILL STAIN IT!!!!!!!!!!"

This was followed by the very predictable throwing down of items and stomp outside with random words surfacing "mean.....murmur, murmur.... my room.... murmur, murmur ....mean....like it....murmur, murmur....4th element of the periodic table....... (nah, not that one, but ever hopeful)

Suddenly the massive wobbly came on.  Not her.  Me!  I lost my cool and threw the laundry basket all over the room, emptied the rubbish bag onto the previously made bed, tossed cushions, cleared the desk in one dramatic sweep.  Then, not spent I walked through the house finding all the lying round items, and chucked them down the hallway into the room.  The room looks surprisingly 'usual' so I stomped to the front door and delivered (at volume) the pièce de résistance "YOU CAN COME BACK NOW......... YOUR BEDROOM IS HOW YOU LIKE IT!!!!" 

The slam of the door sealed the deal.

In our house, me being cranky is not a usual element and in this case I even surprised myself.  Short term, there was an effect and next time I saw the room it was very tidy.  Long term............ the room is still not my scene, but maybe a little crack in the rock???

Once she was little......

Over Xmas I spent some time with the mother of a little girl and we were laughing about the silly things that kids do.  Those sweet, innocent things that make you laugh- later!

Alex had a prime place to do her 'things' and that place was the Supermarket.  She once sat in the trolley and reached behind and took out the green bucket we were about to purchase.  She put it on her head (as you do!) and began to sing.  She made noises and sang, inside the bucket, the whole way round the shop.  Mostly the noises were just 'ah (pause) ah, (pause) ah"  then, after some time of her favourite 'ah' song she cracked into Barney "clean up, clean up, everybody, everywhere clean up, clean up, everybody do their shirt"  (No explaining, for many years, the difference between 'shirt' and 'share')  People walked past, some laughed, some frowned, some made no eye contact.........


Another time she sat in the trolley while I chatted to the woman behind me in the check out line.  Eventually the woman said "have you got a big weekend planned?" pointing to Alex and the conveyer belt.  I turned to find that Alex had taken many, many packets of condoms from the left of the aisle, (where normally they have the 'tempt' items, go figure!!!!) and put them on the conveyor on the right- many, many packets,  my guess is about 15, piled up and fast disappearing down toward the checkout and  into our shopping!  Not really the look I was after!!!


Shopping embarrassments did not only occur in the supermarket.  Once as we drove home with the shopping sitting on the seat beside Alex, she reached into the bag and found panty liners.  Normally fairly unfun items one would think- but no!  Open the packet!  Have a play!  By the time I caught on what was happening, she had opened the packet, striped off the sticky piece and stuck them on the window on the other side of her carseat.  We travelled  home with about 8 stuck to our window.

 Another of her favourites was the tricky questions in the aisles-


"Mum, do you believe in GOD?" heads turned- damned if you do, damned if you don't.....
"Mum, why is that man so black?" yep, he heard, but hopefully doesn't speak English???!!!??
"Mum, I'm going to ...... blahhhhhhhhhhhh, splat! (cue green and carrot-y puddle)"
"Mum, why do boys smell"  Oh, where to begin!






The justice is that one day Al will have her own children and one day she will also laugh at these stories.  Just not yet........