1. Having to dress shop at the mall on Monday for 2+ hours because your daughter “needs a new dress because every girl in my class is wearing one on Wednesday”. She will have to check every single “cool” store first, before actually finding a dress in the store you suggested in the first place. You will also have to make the requisite stop at Starbucks for some type of Strawberry concoction. She will be mad at you because you will not let her get a coffee because she is 12, and you don’t see how a 12 year old needs coffee. She will let the cat out of the bag that she orders coffee when she goes to the mall with her friends, and then stare at the floor. She will give the barista a fake name when she orders her drink, and when you ask her why she did that, she will reply in a whispered tone “Mommm. It’s not cool to give them your real name! Everyone knows that!” She will grin like a champ when they yell her fake name when her drink is ready for pick-up.(For the record, you are the only people in the store, and they still yell.) She will get in the car and take the perfect selfie of her and her Starbucks drink with her fake name prominently displayed and will post it to Instagram. She will spend the drive home telling you how many “likes” she got on that one.
2. Having to leave work yesterday for 20 minutes to run home and drive your daughter to school because someone (Mom) accidentally put the dryer setting on low and the yoga pants she HAS TO wear to gym did not dry in time for school. She will text you at work 7 minutes before the bus is coming to let you know this. No, she cannot wear something else to school! Your daughter will beg and plead to stay home, but that isn’t happening. When you are driving her to school you will hear all about how she has now missed gym but is wearing the yoga pants anyway because that was her chosen outfit for school and she knows you would have been mad if you got home and she didn’t have them on. (She is correct on that one!) Also, she will tell you that because of the dryer mishap this is her first time being tardy in 7 years of school. The streak is broken and she will be upset about it. (Tardiness is a catastrophe that you are unaware of), and now because it is after 9:00, she will not be able to sit with her class at the assembly that is occurring, because she is tardy for that too. All of this will be your fault. You will drive back to work thinking about the million times she has made you tardy for work over the past 7 years. At 3:20 pm, she will come home smiling and say that she was glad she didn’t stay home because she had a great day, but will still be upset at the tardiness marring her permanent record. She will then grab a snack and go up to her room to blast music and scan Instagram for anything she has missed in the last 6 hours, as well as to see if there are anymore likes on her Starbucks selfie.
3. Having to get out of your pj’s on your sick day (there’s no such thing for a Mom) because you HAVE TO drive a very specific outfit over to your daughter’s school (after a series of panicked laden texts, which she is doing while hiding face first in her locker, because phones at school are a bigger no-no than tardiness) because the dress that you spent two hours shopping for, and that she looks so beautiful in is ITCHY…VERY, VERY ITCHY and she “can’t take it for another minute”. When you get there, the secretary will want to know how you know your daughter needs a new outfit if she isn’t in the nurse’s office because they’re not supposed to have phones in school. You will reply that your daughter is 12, 12 is a fun age, and you are part psychic with a $hit-eating grin on your ugly, sick face. The secretary will look less than amused at your answer and will make “the face” at the other secretary who is sitting there listening to your conversation. You will then stand there awkwardly pretending to read the bulletins hanging on the wall while you wait for your daughter in the itchy dress to make her way down to the office. It will feel like an hour, but probably will only be about a 3 minute wait.
4. Your daughter will finally come down to the office to get her specified clothes and will actually give you an unexpected heartfelt thank you for bringing that in, will hug your arm, and tell you that she hopes you get some rest…and you won’t be annoyed anymore. In fact, you will smile as you drive back home.
Yes, that’s what having a daughter is like. (God bless my friends that have more than one!)
Last week we got our 10 1/2 year old daughter a cell phone. (If you don’t say the 1/2 part, she gets really mad!) Thanks to that, I now want to throw MY cell phone through a wall. Not because I am jealous that she has a better phone than I do…even though she does..damn you great deal when you add a new line…but because she texts me non-stop. That child texts me so much that I cringe when I hear my phone go off, and I had to give her a separate text alert sound so I could differentiate between her and my friends, who might actually have something important to tell me…as opposed to her.
Now before you start rolling your eyes and thinking “Why would you get your 10 1/2 year old a cell phone?”, let me explain. We did not just hand her a phone for no reason. She had to completely earn it. We made a deal with her back in September: She had to get straight A’s for the entire year, and she had to show responsibility by not misplacing her I-Pod at all. (Plus she is getting to that age where she isn’t at my side all the time, so it’s handy.) She kept up her end of the deal, so we kept up ours….and now it is coming back to haunt me…just about every 5-10 minutes of my life.
Here are some examples of what I get to read when I hear that ominous tone chime on my phone:
*Mom, thank u for getting me a phone. I ❤ U!!!xoxo Ok – This was her very 1st text to me, so it made me smile. After that it all went downhill…fast. (By the way, her very first actual call HAD TO be to her father. Of course it did. Sigh.)
*Mom, I need my hula hoop right now! This gem came a mere 10 minutes after I dropped her off at school…even though I had just asked her before we left if she was going to need said hula hoop…and she said no.
* Where r u? I get this constantly. I usually get this 2-3 times while I am driving to pick her up at her friend’s house. (Thank God for text to talk!) More often than not though, the answer is “downstairs”. We don’t live in a mansion, so I don’t know how she thinks she will lose me in “the other wing of the house”, but whatever.
* I am almost there! Wow, am I glad she only had her phone for the last 3 days of school, because this is the text I got for the entire bus ride home. Literally stop by stop! It’s her little version of the play-by-play of her life. Meanwhile, I was already sitting at the bus-stop for like 10 minutes.
*This movie is great! U have to see it! I’ll go again, and not spoil it for u. Promise! 🙂 She sent me this when she went to see Madagascar 3 yesterday. I told her she wasn’t supposed to use her phone in the theater, but the movie was SO GOOD that I just HAD TO know.
* Hi!!! Just another reason to use her phone. She has said “Hi!!” to me more in the past week than she has in perhaps her entire existence on this planet. If I had $1 for every “Hi!!!” I’ve gotten, I could probably buy myself something pretty decent.
*What r u doing? Maybe she thinks I’m doing something spectacular when I am not within her field of vision. I’m not. I really want to answer “Cringing because I just heard that friggin’ chime go off AGAIN!”, but I just answer with “Nothing. Just waiting for a text from you! :)” I always have to follow that up with “What r u doing?” and she usually replies, “Nothing. Just texting you!” Sometimes she puts cute little hearts in there too, which makes it impossible to get mad at. She’s a smart cookie.
* K. This is where I had to speak to her. My daughter LOVES to send the answer “K” to my responses. When she asks me anything and I respond, this is what I get back in return…whether it applies or not. She was even responding “K” to my “K”. I had to explain to her that when I say “K”, she does not need to respond with “K”. It means “I got it and the conversation is over on my end!”…therefore she does NOT need to let me know that she too is done responding! She’s not really listening to me on that one yet. Maybe if I text it to her, she’ll get it.
Aside from her numerous texts, I also get lots of pictures that she takes…like close ups of my dog’s nose with “Isn’t he the cutest???” written under it…or pictures of her toes correctly labeled “My Toes!!!! :)” God Bless this child and her new phone. I don’t know how she has lived this long without it, or how I have made it through my days without Instagram pictures from my own little Ansel Adams.
What I do know is her getting a cell phone is just another little piece of her “little girl-ness” evaporating. I think starting today, I will smile everytime that ominous chime goes off on my phone, because before I know it texting her friends will be a thousand times more fun than texting her mom is… and thought of that makes me cringe more than hearing that text alert tone ever will.
Before I start my actual story, I need to make an introduction…
The most beautiful little pup you’ve ever seen, shown above, is our newest addition Clancy Blue. (Not Blue like Jay-Z stupidly named his child. Blue as in his color) We brought this little bundle of wrinkles home Monday night and are 100% in love, as is our other dog Rory. Now that you’ve been properly introduced, onto the story…
I have used the same vet for years. They have about 6 vets in the practice and every single one there has been wonderful. When I called to make Clancy’s first appointment, and my favorite vet was booked, I just agreed to let him be seen by “whoever” was open. Let’s just say this will not occur again.
Apparently they hired a new vet, “Dr. M.”, and are trying to drum up some customers for her. She was officially a one shot deal with my boy. It started out normal, by her coming in and introducing herself to my daughter and I. When she laid eyes on Clancy, it went haywire…
For the first few minutes she spoke to him in what I can only describe as baby talk to Clancy, complete with a lisp she apparently thought made her tone even cuter…it didn’t. I thought maybe it was a little odd. It became very odd when not only did she continue to speak to him that way for the entire visit, but would also answer for him in that same talk, but slightly changing her voice to make it more nasal.
Here is a snippet of what my daughter and I had to awkwardly listen to for about 20 minutes. Try to read this in the most ridiculous baby voice EVER so you get the full effect:(Don’t forget the fake lisp!)
Vet: Ooooh Sir Clancy, I have to give you shots!
Clancy:(As stated by Dr. M.): Shots? I don’t know what that is, but it sounds scary!
Vet: It’s not scary, just a little ouchy. (Is that even a word?)
Clancy: A little ouchy doesn’t sound bad. OK.
Now picture my daughter and I incredulously looking at one another, and me sternly making the “Don’t you dare!” face at my daughter. This is where my daughter made her great escape into the hallway (with a grin over her shoulder at me) saying she couldn’t watch the puppy get shots (LIAR!), thus leaving me with Dr. Loony. Luckily she came back within about 2 minutes, semi-composed.
Not only did this woman speak to Clancy in this tone the entire time, but when she would converse with me, she used THE SAME TONE! That’s right, I was forced to have a full conversation with this nut for the entire visit in baby talk…obviously from her end, not mine. My talk was much more in the range of sarcastic-please-speak-to-me-in-a-normal-tone voice, which did nothing to change her speech pattern.
Here’s a snippet of my conversation with her:
Vet: Sir Clancy, in a few visits we will give you the zip-zip.
Clancy: Dr M, what’s a zip-zip? That sounds fun.
Vet: Zip-zip is zip-zip. You’ll be fine. Mommy will explain zip-zip, right Mommy?
Me: What?!? Are you saying zip-zip? Are you saying neuter him? He’s not getting neutered, if that’s what you’re talking about here. (Wouldn’t you think my answer would snap her into adult speak? Well it didn’t!)
Without further torturing you from having to read anymore baby talk, let’s just say she gave me the tsk-tsk for that (Mind your business lady) and told Clancy that he would “Get lucky!” someday and said his Mommy would explain that too, when he’s a little bit bigger. FYI – Mommy will not be explaining that ever because, although I’m not a trained vet, he is a dog, and breeding is an innate behavior.
The only time this woman snapped into normal speaking voice was for a 30 second span when the receptionist came into the room to ask her a question. When she was finished answering her, she snapped right into that baby tone and introduced Clancy to her…to which the receptionist rolled her eyes at me. That was hands down the best part of the visit! Proof that this woman apparently does this all day long, and they think she needs a straight jacket in a size Medium too.
My daughter’s take on it when we got outside is proof that she is 100% genetically mine, even though I distinctly remember giving birth to her:
Alyssa: Mom, I know I am only 10, but I am certain that is the craziest thing I have ever seen and that woman wins the “Creep of the Week” award. She definitely lives in her Mom’s basement and has like 10 cats. Where did she get her Vet’s license? At a pre-school? If you ever book an appointment with Dr. M again, I’m not going. You’ll be on your own!
Needless to say, I will NOT be on my own, because Clancy will not be seeing Dr. M again EVER. Clancy didn’t like her anyway. He hid behind my legs 99% of the time because he was afraid of her high pitched crazy tone. See, he fits in with our family already!
Lesson learned here: When given a choice, never answer with “Whoever”, because that’s exactly what you’re going to get…”Whoever” is officially the code word for “A person you would never willingly choose on your own.”
I just hope Clancy doesn’t have flashbacks when we go back in 2 weeks.
This morning my daughter realized that her “beloved” pet Hermy was dead. I can’t say he died with much dignity. She found him naked in the middle of his cage, a few inches from his old shell, and nowhere near his spare, bigger shell that we thought maybe he would switch to someday.
Funny thing about this is I just asked her yesterday how her pal Hermy was doing, and her very paused response told me that yet again she forgot all about the poor bastard. This is the same child who literally begs us every single summer to get her a new hermit crab or two when we go to Fantasy Island in LBI. Every year I cringe when my husband and daughter happily stroll into the shop to make her yearly purchase. I know how it’ll end for the little innocent creature(s) she brings home, but nobody ever listens to me…I do need to mention that we did not buy her Hermy. She conned her grandparents into it one night when they were watching her. Mama didn’t raise no dummy.
Anyway, Hermy is officially the 12th hermit crab taken down by “The Hermit Crab Slayer” (What we affectionately call our daughter.) It always starts out great. She will give him (It’s always a him for some reason) some well thought out name, take fantastic care of him for about a week, and then it’s all downhill. The other 11 that she has owned didn’t make it very far past 2 weeks…maybe a month tops. This one went the distance in our house.
Thus today marked the end for our pal Hermy. (Technically he could have been dead for about a week, and my daughter just didn’t notice, but for all intents and purposes we will just stick with today.) I salute you Hermy…you almost made it a full 6 months…key word being almost. Unfortunately almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, so you will be joining the other 11 in our hermit crab cemetery, otherwise known as the spot to the right of the rose bushes in our yard. Ya did good kid. Well, ya did better than the other 11, at least…
Anyone who knows me knows I have a sick little obsession with Obituary pictures. Is it horrible? Some people may think so, but I don’t.
The first thing I do when I open up the paper everyday is head straight for the obits. First I make sure I don’t know anyone who died…(I have to show a little decorum people!) then I take a good hard look at the pictures. More often than not, I find a winner and it makes my day.
I mean seriously, who picks some of these??? Do their families dislike them that much or is that really the best picture they could dig up that shows they world who the recently deceased really were?!?
I’ve really seen some great ones over the years:
– The guy whose family used his prison picture (jumpsuit and all)
– The lady with the wayyy too small sailor’s hat teetering on her coif
– The people who have looked like Biggie Small’s clone (I cannot believe how many times this guy has died!)
– The ladies with eyebrows drawn all the way up their forehead that always seem to look surprised.
– The people who are 98 years old but have their HS graduation picture on their obit. (Damn, you haven’t aged a bit!)
– The lady who was looking sideways out of the corner of her eye. (She is still the reigning title holder for “Most Creepy”)
-The guy with one eye.
-And my all time favorite…the guy whose family put in a pic of him with a patriotic baseball cap superimposed on his head…sideways no less. (His b-day was the 4th of July, so they decided to make it jazzy, I guess)
If they are especially awesome, I actually cut them out and keep them in my ‘funny folder’. If I’m having a bad day, I just peruse through that baby and poof, bad mood – gone! I’d really love to scan a few of the aforementioned and put them up here, but with my luck, I’d get sued.
It’s a little abnormal, I know…but it really does make my day. Over the years, I have shared this joy with a lot of my friends. At first they say things like I’m sick and that’s bad karma (blah, blah)…but guess what – it’s contagious. If they come across a good one, they always share it with me. It’s almost like a contest at this point. We all also have hysterical poses we would like used in ours (someday years and years and years from now), but that’s a whole nother blog post…
So, go ahead…think I’m sick and going straight to hell…that’s fine – but now that you’ve read this post, you’re gonna do it too.
Don’t worry, I’ll save you a seat and we can be toasty together…