Monday, January 27, 2020

Oye. Pre-teens

Chelsea was my first best friend. Her friendship owned 4th and 5th grade. We were enthusiastic, zany, and creative. We were absurd, we were a laugh. We bought plastic fish and fed them pepper. We snuck on to the golf course to wade in the water traps. We invented secret languages. We rode our bikes all over town, but laughed so hard at our jokes that we were always falling off or crashing. We collected key chains, died over Lisa Frank stationary, and traded stickers. We read books by the dozens (mine- babysitter's club, her- box car children) and I tried to hide snacks all over my room like Claudia in bsc but they always went stale immediately.

One time I remember using puff paint and glitter fabric paint to decorate these plain baseball caps that Chelsea had. A dream afternoon! We had a blast, and you know we looked smokin in those homemade puff paint hats. Later that night my dad somehow talked Chelsea and I into going to the high school football game and we decided to sport our cool new looks. The minute we walked over to the stands we realized what a terrible idea this was. Our cool new glitter hats were actually hideous. No one should ever see us wear these hats. Ever.

The following is a snapshot of our conversation and thought process:
Did you see? What? Well.... was that Bobby Carter? BOBBY CARTER?! Quick!! Hats off! OMG! What is up with your hair? You have such bad hat head!! Oh no... do I?? Does my hair look as bad? It does?! Quick! Hats back on! Now what? Let's go to the bathroom and see how bad our hat hair is. Ok. (Now comes the bad news that we leave in a seriously small town in Montana where there are no mirrors in bathrooms at outdoor high school stadiums.) Well.... I guess we will just have to wear the hats, try and sit by your dad and hide as much as we can. Yeah. And keep a hand over the most decorated parts of the hat for the entire game. Ok, yeah good idea.

Fast forward a few hours later to when I'm home and my mom asks if I had fun. How do I even begin to explain such an evening? Ummmm, yeah, it was ok seems like the easiest way to sum it up. And of course I need to respond in my most snarky and prickly voice because in fact the evening has been a stressful nightmare. 

I am now a mom in that land mine field.

I cheer too loud. (This I know. No embarrassed child needs to tell me this.)

I have a child who wants to learn about ninjitsu. Asking a karate instructor if he knows anything about ninjitsu would apparently be the worst, most terrible, embarrassing idea ever. Duh.

I have a child who needs to stay after school for tutoring a few times a week until 4:30. I suggest packing a snack in his backpack. (Homemade chocolate chip cookies! Not even something truly embarrassing like raisins!) This is apparently the worst, most terrible, embarrassing idea ever. Duh. This child even had a nightmare about bringing a snack and everyone teasing him.

I have a child who enjoys going to high school basketball games. This child sees a friend. I suggest he ask the friend to sit with us, thus having the worst, most terrible, embarrassing idea ever. Duh.

I have a child who delights in karate. He is a dedicated and hard-working student who is always eager to learn all things karate. We go home from a lesson and we have a couple friends over for dinner. My child stay in the laundry room (closest room to the garage) forever because he can't be seen wearing his t-shirt and black wind pants. (This is the same child who regularly and mistakenly wears his t-shrit backwards.) I suggest he walk to his room quickly and change back into his normal clothes (a t-shirt and athletic shorts.... quite a bit different from what he is wearing hahaha) but apparently this is the worst, most terrible, embarrassing idea ever. Duh!

I think it may be safe to say we have entered the phase where a fun, special lunch brought to school is super duper appreciated, even more so if that lunch is dropped off by a mom who has no intentions of staying to sit and eat as well.

Oye! Hopefully I can continue to remember my own asinine mood swings before I judge those around me too harshly! This is my reminder to help me laugh at my kids and their moods in the same way I can look back and laugh at mine. (Wha!!? BOBBY CARTER?!?? Noooooo!!!! Don't let him see me!!!!)

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