August 2008 Archives

I just got off the phone with my daughter. This week, she is 694.51 miles away. Not that I'm counting or anything. *sigh*

When her best friend's mother asked if they could take her with them to VT to visit family (did that make ANY sense at all??), I really didn't think my girl would want to leave me. We have always been very close, from the time she was a newborn who balled herself up screaming whenever she wasn't in my arms (or, let's face it, on my boob) to now, as a teen who still calls me mommy and likes to cuddle in bed with me when she can't sleep.

Not that she has had a choice. On the way to the hospital, her father told me that he would never be able to change her diaper or give her a bath because of his religion. I was all "The HELL you say?" and he was all "oh, did I forget to tell you?" and I was all "Ummm, YEAH, dipshit."

(ok, that last part was in my head and a lot more vulgar. I just sat there and cried, pressing my forehead to the window as the next contraction came and I realized just how screwed she was going to be to only have me as her parent. I had no idea it was going to be for real forever.)

If I go to the store and get stuck in traffic or in a long line in a store and am not home when I estimated that I would, I get a frantic call asking why I'm late. God forbid I go away for a couple of days, to a conference or a visit to VA, she is always almost frantic by the time I get home.

Now, I have to point out that when the going away is HER idea, she seems much better off with it. She can go overnight to a friends house and totally forget to call me for a day, or even a weekend. But a week. No, make that ELEVEN days PLUS a trip on a train PLUS to a totally different state WITHOUT ME!! 

Ouch. Did you hear that? It was my ice cold bitchy heart shattering into a kabillion pieces.

I got the kids phones over the summer so that we can stay in touch.  I asked her to promise to call me every day while she was gone, thinking it would make her feel better to have to make an excuse to call her crazy mom than admitting that she was homesick. She promised she would and I am happy to say she has kept her promise. Every day, like clockwork, she has called from Madison Square Garden, from JC Penney, from the outlet stores, on her way to the Tri-State Fair. Hmm, come to think of it, it did sound like she has been in heaven, shopping and giggling and eating junk food but, you know, maybe that was just her being brave in front of her friend.

Todays call just about did me in, though. They were out shopping *AGAIN?!* and she asked me if it would be ok if she bought a few things for school and I can pay her friend's mom back when they got home. OH, and to let me know they are going camping and that she can't call me until *eep* MONDAY.

I get the feeling this is a new chapter. And here I thought it was she that was so attached to me.

Software Easter Eggs = SQUEEEAALLLL!!! 

I've got a Ninja in my Google Reader. Thanks to the very cool pgoerner who linked it in Twitter.  

Next week, my gorgeous almost 15 year old daughter Jazz is going to Vermont with her best friend. She's been saving the money her father has given her over the summer for spending money and I agreed to pay for her trip because she has been an AWESOME kid this year, working very hard her first year of High School to stay on the honor roll and helping around the house without question.

She has been diligent drumming up extra jobs, though, just to make sure she has enough to buy presents for us while she is there. This morning, for instance, she got up, took a shower, and called my mom so that she could go over her house for the day. Her Nonnie can't get down on her knees and clean out cabinets or climb on top of the counters and dust of the chachkis on the highest shelves, but Jazz is a natural monkey.

She just came home from my mom's house with a funny smirk on her face. She was holding something behind her back and when I asked what she had, she asked me not to laugh. That was when I knew ... my mom got her clothes.

Let me spell this out for you. My daughter (who loves jeans and t-shirts, as long as they are black or grey and have minimal decoration) just got clothes from my mom (who loves to bargain hunt and thinks she knows what is the best for everyone and the best apparently has beads and sequins and lots and lots of glitter). 

She got a HOT PINK tank top with a HUGE swirly heart on the chest ... in the middle of this heart is a sea of stars and glitter and the word SASSY like a neon sign saying "LOOK AT MY BOOBS< AREN"T THEY SASSY?!?!"   Exactly the message a body conscious almost 15 year old wants written across her boobs.

Ummm, yeah. To say my mom is out of touch doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. She's been giving me cowl neck tops with embroidery and dangly embellishments all my life. I'm only too glad to pass this torch.

I do feel kind of sorry for the girl, though. I couldn't help but snicker. She was mortified when I asked if I could take a picture of it.

I did give her a hug when I said "Welcome to my world, little one."

Wow ... this is one of those moments where I look around for the hidden microphones. Because this conversation?? It's been had, almost to the letter!

And here I thought we were the only goofballs. What a relief.


*adding "The Dictionary Of Shit That Doesn't Exist" to my search engine toolbar*


**oh, and this conversation came no where near the Great Fruits vs. Veggies Debate of 2006, but it was a good one**

1.  I am obsessed with Belly Flops right now.
2.  I sort my candy. Cereal too. Ok, anything that comes in different colors that most people would eat by the handful.
3.  I love hardware stores, especially the lumber section.
4.  I could sit still outside and listen to nothing for hours.
5.  I check my email obsessively. Hmm, that might make #4 difficult.
6.  I know that, when my kids move out, I'm going to spend the rest of my life alone. Well, me and the cats. I'm going to be "that lady".  I don't know if they will even call. Not until they need something, at least.


OK, I started writing this lightheartedly and ended up depressed. Serves me right.