Where dreaming moves closer to reality

She says she wants to be a teacher, and we encourage her by saying,

 "You'll never get a job."

To test her resolve, we suggested that that she help her brother through his homework last night: a task which typically exhausts us and makes him absolutely overwhelmed.

She never raised her voice.  He never cried.

And in just a few minutes, she convinced him that he did know how to do division - all by himself!

She's going to be a mighty fine teacher.

Could you maybe have warned me?

It really might have been nice if you mothers of daughters older than mine could have warned me. Maybe then I might have been prepared. I might have put aside a little energy each energy payday so that my account would have been full. Maybe you could have coached me a little louder from the sidelines or offered me a game plan. But you didn't.

You left me to learn it all on my own and to fight my way through the training, with an occasional wrong turn.

Why didn't you tell me that when a daughter is old enough to go to high school dances, that there would be dress shopping, accessory shopping, hair appointments, nail appointments, boutonniere ordering, picture arrangements, dinner arrangements, and massive housecleaning when the picture arrangements mistakenly happen at MY house?

You might have hinted at the need for the little chats reminding our daughters of their worth and their futures and their values that will outlive this night and this date.

And it would have been okay if you had sent me an email telling me that by the time the doorbell rang, the dad's only job would be to shake the young man's hand while the mom would need two years of sleep to recover - but only after that precious daughter had been safely delivered back to her nicely-cleaned home after her unfairly early curfew.

The Champion of Geeks

My daughter is crazy for a boy who is a jerk. He's smart and funny and irreverent. He's also mean, unpredictable, and unloyal. She denies that he is of any interest to her, but that's what friends and brothers are for: to tell the mom everything she needs to know.

Recently, my daughter spent several hours in the company of some very different boys. They are well-controlled, intellectual in nature, polite and even kind to everyone they encounter. They have earned a reputation as good and dependable workers. But they're also a little Dugger-esque without the multiple babies or the long-haired sisters.

Because I never, ever meddle, I told my daughter she should maybe take an interest in that second group of boys. I am certain they would treat her with kindness and be honorable. Their lack of a sense of humor notwithstanding, they would be fine date material.

"No way!! I would never date a geek. I'm not like you!"

And so she laughed and her FATHER aka Checkered Whom I Used to Love, laughed, too.

"Oh, your mom sure did like to date geeks!" Hahahahahahaha!!

"I know! Have you seen the pictures with all those guys and their enormous glasses!!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I felt it necessary to point out that most of the geeks were now enjoying very successful mid-lives, thank you very much, and they never treated me with anything but respect, AND I had fun dating most all of them.

But I've been thinking about you, Mr. Checkered. You were certainly cool in high school. And you were certainly cool for a while after that, but the minute you went back to school and fretted if your gpa dropped below 4.0, the minute you became addicted to tallying your Weight Watcher points on your Blackberry, the minute you began to take pride in how you do laundry and wash dishes, the minute you started arriving at work an HOUR before the start time, well, you became an official geek. And you are the reason I happen to know that geeks become wonderful husbands.

Perhaps you could forward those thoughts on to your daughter now.

Opening Night for my Who

It would be more appropriate to say, "Break a leg!" but that is something I simply can't say to my own child. She is a literal girl, after all. It will suffice, I think, to say,

"Although it's already been a long week of strep and post-ortho swollen cheeks (that remind us of your baby days) the show must go on. Good luck, sweet girl. We're very proud of you!!! And for goodness sake, whatever you do, don't break any legs."

Drowning in Pharmaceuticals

Sometimes it doesn't matter how pretty or smart or creative you are. If you have asthma and it collides with bronchitis, life gets pretty yucky for a few days.

Feel better quickly, sweet girl.

Commuting with my Girl

6:36 am and we're late. She tells me as we fly through the neighborhood that her throat is raw and she might throw up. I glance her way and lovingly say, "But you can't get sick; your ortho appointments have taken all your absences."

With one eye on teen-agers dressed entirely in black and walking down the middle of the darkened street and the other eye on the bus that might already be at the stop and a third eye checking to see if her prophecy of throwing up has been fulfilled, I add, "Besides that, I have a mammogram today so I won't be home most of the morning."

"A what?" she begins, "Oh... ewwww. Why do you always have to talk about stuff like that?! It's 6.30 in the morning. You're sick!" And the car door slams shut.

Pondering her question during my drive back home, I decide that I "always have to talk about stuff like that" because:

I am a woman
I am of a certain age
I enjoy her reaction.

Now, the decision is what to discuss tomorrow morning. Gyn visits or colonoscopies?

The House Gets Quieter

After a few raw emotions, 20 memorized (and long) scripture verses, months spent working on a musical, and too much confusion to keep straight, my girl left with her church youth group for New York City today. Although I would have preferred a differently structured trip, I am proud of her hard work and excited for her.

Travel safely, sweet girl.

She'll Need Sunglasses to Sleep

Remember this post? Remember I promised it would be done before school gets out? Remember how many years I've made the same promise?





Well, I'm proud to announce that I kept my word.





Old room:



New room:

She's Growing Up

Once upon a time, a young teen-ager called her grandma to ask for

the recipe of that delicious pudding.

Grandma obliged by emailing the recipe,

and the teen-ager made the Chocolate-Banana Trifle

for her mom, dad, and brothers.

It was a special Memorial Day treat, and

it turned out so well that the teen-ager was only slightly bothered by the

fact that her mother took a picture of the teen-ager with
"undone" hair.

Girls' Week-end

The men in this home went away all week-end long to recharge their testosterone by doing things like ice fishing, playing ice hockey, telling ghost stories, and other Cub Scout stuff.

My daughter and I gratefully stayed home.  But what to do to make our week-end special?  How could we celebrate us?

1.  A quick stop at the library to get the last book in the Clique series.  My girl later won my heart by telling me that the girls in the series made a lot of bad decisions.

2.  A stop to buy a cherry pie.  Yes, one for each of us.  Yes, they were both gone by Sunday.

3.  Dinner at Olive Garden and entertainment by a flirty waiter who was undertipped by me.

4. Attendance at the Detroit Kennel Club dog show where we met a couple of thousand perfectly behaved dogs and I fell in love with a Bernese Mountain dog. 

I didn't get to bring him home, but my daughter did win a gift card by throwing some bean bags through some targets.

5.  A little shopping.

6.  Dinner at Max and Erma's.  While eating, my daughter thought she saw our long-lost precious friend.  She wasn't sure, however, so she surreptitiously took this picture which we then studied throughout our dinner.  Finally, we decided it was indeed our long-lost precious friend and we had a lovely reunion.

7.  Breakfast at Biggby coffee AND Big Apple Bagels. 

8.  An inability for mother or daughter to button their pants on Monday morning.

It was perfect!

Mothers and Daughters: The Missing Logic Saga Continues

While mother and teen-age daughter drive to school, the following conversation evolves:

Daughter: Fritzie (her brother) sure takes a long shower now.
Mother: Yes. He nicely drains the hot water tank every morning.
Daughter: I mean, I didn't even get to go to the bathroom today because he was in there so long.
Mother: You didn't go to the bathroom this morning?
Daughter: It's okay. I'll just go at school. It's like all Fritzie's fault.
Mother: But we have two bathrooms. Why didn't you use the other one?
Daughter: He was in the shower forever!
Mother: But what about the other bathroom?!
Daughter: It's okay. I'll just try to find time to go at school, but it's not like I'll have enough time. I really have to go though.
Mother: But ...
Daughter: Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Just tell Fritzie it's his fault and he can't take such long showers anymore!