So it’s my young teen’s first day back at school. Those of you who follow my blog know my struggles. She’s a 13 year old genius (in her own mind) who would rather than sleep than eat. Anyone who just joined our “already in progress lives” can click on the links below and be brought up to speed—
As I was saying, it’s her first day back at school and while most folks get great “first day back at school” pics, my young teen refused to cooperate this morning. Not only was she not in a great mood, she even said, “ma, can you please not yell all that -have a good day and I love you stuff- when you drive off?” Wow! Yep, my feelings were hurt… but not really. I realize she’e growing up and she’s easily embarrassed.
So, she wouldn’t let me take a “first day…” pic and she didn’t want me to yell out the window— In my quest to be like millions of other parents today and post a pic I decided to share this one…
Can anyone guess the significance?
*hint- I think it has something to do with her grouchy, “first day back” attitude.
I think the score is now tied!! LMAO
Young Teen -1 Old Mom -1
Stay tuned for more episodes of Young Teen V. Old Mom
Check this out— It’s a challenge where you write a tongue-twister using a specific prompt.
Click the above link to get the details.
The prompt for the month of August is ‘cooking/baking’.
Here’s what I came up with:
baby bananas are better barely battered and baked who took the barely battered and baked baby bananas?
Old Mom (looking very serious -like she was about to teach her young teen a lesson in life): Jill what is the largest denomination of money?
Young Teen (looking concerned): uhhhh?… $100.00 (looking like -duuuhhhh)
Old Mom (looking a bit disappointed): I didn’t learn that until I was grown- probably about 10 years ago. I actually thought there were five hundred dollar bills and thousand dollar bills.
Young Teen (looking concerned): Mom this isn’t Monopoly
Mimi: Some silly ass is trying to set my grand baby up and using her mom’s name. We know that her mom is loving, caring and most of all UNDERSTANDING! Her mom remembers when she hated to get up for Mass after being up all night. She would never punish her baby by denying her the only thing from which she derives pleasure. Her mom understands phone addiction because she,too, has that ailment. So whomever the ass is that is trying yo start trouble for my grand baby should be prepared to deal with me!
Uncle: Well said, Ma. Please add me to the list of people with whom that unidentified phone-swiping scoundrel will have to deal!
Mimi: Gotcha. Can you believe what Russian hacking has inspired!
We can’t let the Ruskies get in Rah’ s head with fake news!
Worried godmother: Rah, did you really write this? If you did, blink twice and I’ll have our priest start calling in some special favors for you- right now!
Dear Family, I regret to inform you all that I will be unavailable via cell for the next two days. No, I didn’t lose my phone or drop it in the toilet, and no, my mom did not forget to pay the bill. I am phone-less by my own fault – see my mom entered my room this morning and asked me to get up and head to the shower (it was 7 a.m. and we were going to mass at 8:30)… I responded by saying “ma, that’s not fair” (in my whiny baby voice).
She returned a couple of minutes later and asked again that I get up. I responded the same way as before.
The third time she came in she said two words “Tanner, consequences” –
you all know what I said.
Well on the fourth time she said “Tanner, consequences, consequences Tanner”!
My lazy self told my self with sense to get up but… well… I didn’t, and
believe it or not, she didn’t do anything crazy like flip my mattress or pour cold water on me, she simply walked past my room saying “no phone or games at all today”!
I whined a little louder – “no Ma, that’s not fair” … but I STILL didn’t get up 🙀
On the sixth time that the Lord sent my mama past that door, she said these words “that’s 2 days and the next time I come in here it’s a week”!
Yes, that got my attention. I got up and yes, I’m angry now, and yes, my mama wrote this!
(This is not a political ad and although Tanner Harris did not write and does not support this message, I wrote it and I endorse it and she better abide by it or she’s gonna taste the rainbow– tu-day!)
Please do yourself a favor and read the next post— it’s my family’s response to this message and it’s hilarious—–
I saw a post earlier this evening in which Christine over at I’m Sick and So Are You talked about people who live in clean houses. Her post brought some things to mind and in my usual humorous and always sarcastic manner I decided to share my thoughts about this subject so here goes:
My house is now, and always will be, clean enough to be healthy but dirty enough to be happy! It will also always be full of love and laughter… It’s not just our living space it’s “Our Lived-in Place”. It’s where we go at the end of the day to hang out together, where putting your feet on the couch is cool and so is eating dinner in the den. The floors are clean enough to walk on — heck that’s what they’re there for right? The walls are painted with semi-gloss paint that can quite easily be wiped clean; after all, how long can little hands resist the urge to touch shiny surfaces? Beds are made at random which is great because they double as trampolines at night and in the cold winter months when playing outside is a no no. The bathrooms? Oh, they are kept spotless…well maybe not spotless, but definitely clean… ok, ok… maybe just tidy, but definitely germ free. As for the kitchen, I don’t allow bags of any type in the fridge and more than 3 takeout boxes in there at the same time is strictly prohibited. Dirty dishes are never left over night… Of the few things not allowed in our place, night crawlers top the list.
Moral of this story: if you’re ever in the neighborhood stop by. Don’t worry about taking your shoes off cause we don’t eat off the floor. If you can’t deal with the idea of eating in the den (off of clean plates… maybe paper, but definitely clean), you may want to go into the kitchen. If you happen to bring your own food and need to refrigerate it be sure and remove any bags first and if there are already three go boxes in the fridge yours will have to wait in line for the next available opportunity. Oh, and we have napkins so please don’t mess up the smeared spaghetti or the pudding that you’ll find throughout the house all over the walls. Also, napping could be hazardous to your health if either of the girls are in a jumping mood (warning: the smallest one often uses my body as an elevated surface to dive from so beware). And lastly, if you sprinkle when you tinkle, please… you know the rest.
Thanks for stopping by ———-
Why are they called “passwords” when the last thing we should do is pass them?
2 a.m. feeding
It’s 2 a.m. and she’s wide awake.
These days it doesn’t take much to wake her, but it takes a whole lot to get her back down. It seems that not too long ago, she slept more and tossed and turned less. When and why did the pendulum swing? Even gone are the nights when she drifts off peacefully and wakes in the mornings all bright eyed and eager to go. Is this all happening because she’s getting older? But what’s age or aging got to do with it? Sleep is not reserved for newborns nor is it old person- only specific. Maybe she’s afraid she’ll miss something. But what could she miss at this late hour? The sound the air freshener dispenser makes as it’s battery slowly dies leaving it to dispense sporadically rather than regularly? Or the sound the a/c unit makes as it kicks off and on throughout the night trying to beat the hot and humid summer nights? Since neither of those sound likely, it’s got to be something else…
Surely she can’t be awake listening for the sweet, melodic sounds of her babies resting peacefully in bed beside her…
…. oh, but yes, she can. Her sound slumber is forever a thing of the past. She hears, feels and senses all movements – no matter how slight. Try as she might, her sandman manages to stay just out of reach for hours once she wakes. They are there- within her reach – her breath, her wind, her lifelines… the food to her soul.
Thank you for my 2 a.m. feeding Baby Jesus.