Young Teen v. Old Mom

Heeeeyyyyyy Folks!!!!

      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…IMG_4495 (1).jpg

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

 https://runawaynunsandleprechauns.com/2017/08/06/young-teen-v-old-mom-young-teen-1-old-mom-0

https://runawaynunsandleprechauns.com/2017/08/06/ma-thats-not-faaaaiiiir

https://runawaynunsandleprechauns.com/2017/08/06/my-familys-rebuttal

Stay tuned for more episodes of   Young Teen V. Old Mom

 

If you sprinkle…

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 ———-

 

New York or bust- Issue no. 4 (and that is all)

4th Issue: What is the difference between two of those flat “air” laptops and one of those inch-thick deals? How was I supposed to know that our laptops had to be “binned” separately and that the weirdo watching the monitor would keep that little tidbit to himself? When did I get a clue? Not until the young fellow wearing the almost sagging Dickie uniform pants sauntered over to the “hey don’t touch that lane” and picked our computers up. He glanced over in my direction, asked if the laptops were mine, advised me of my error, then slowly, and I do mean slowly, meandered away with my laptops and that damn single bin in hand.

Note to self- contact Airport Security – AGAIN—ref: no signs warning that while at security (at 6:45 a.m.) you will encounter an almost sagging Dickie clad, James Bond, Jr. in drag who hates his job, is obviously paid by the hour and needs a better belt as you are trying to catch a flight that leaves gate C35 at 7:10 a.m, on Friday, July 21, 2017, and you’re on Concourse A.

Yes, this is a true (4 part) story and yes, we did make our flight. (:

New York or bust- Issue no. 3

Issue number 3: When did it become necessary to take small children out of strollers before passing through security?

We don’t fly very often so the security –baby out of the stroller thing was news to me. Soon after hearing the instructions, I snatched Jill and Corey up, folded the stroller and placed it on the conveyor belt from hell. You know the one that moves your belongings along at a snail’s pace, all the while giving some weirdo, who moonlights as a voyeur, an x-ray vision of anything that passes his creepy screen-veiled eyes.

Note to self- contact Airport security ref: no warning signs about the mean mugged dude giving stroller directives from his spot just on the other side of the machine that conducts the hands-free strip searches, who would also be standing between you and your freshly eye raped belongings, if going thru security on Friday, July 21, 2017, at 6:35 a.m.

Ok, backpacks on the belt- CHECK;

shoes and jackets in the bin and on the belt- CHECK

laptop(s) in THE bin and on the belt- CHECK

New York or bust- Issue no. 2

Second Issue: Why, just why, are elevators placed at the top of really high places (like parking garages) only to have “OUT OF ORDER” signs posted on them? And why on earth would anyone think that a damn arrow pointing in the direction of a flight of stairs would be of any consequence at that moment? The only “flight” people are interested in at this stage in the game is the one they’re about to miss. Could I blame this too on Expedia? Not fair… let’s place blame where blame is due. The same smart ass who has the prestigious position of riding around on that damn golf cart counting open parking spaces and putting that on the scroll bar at the foot of the garage could have added “you’ll have to walk a country mile while carrying your luggage, pushing a baby in a stroller and following a chain smoker to get to a working elevator if you park at the top”. How hard is that?

Note to self- contact Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport (MSY) ref: no warning signs about warning signs, directional arrows or chain smokers (with hacking coughs) that would be encountered if traveling on Friday, July 21, 2017, at 6:10 a.m.

We finally made it into the airport, after very likely contracting some type of incurable airborne smoker’s disease. We checked-in, checked our bags, got our boarding passes and headed to security- with a few minutes to spare.

New York or bust- Issue no.1

Tori, Jill and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, packed the car and headed off to the airport. Yep, we were finally going to see “our Rayne” who lives in Astoria, New York.

Issue Number 1: Who would have thought the New Orleans airport parking would be overcrowded on the only day of the year that we decided to fly? Looks like Expedia would have had red flags flashing and blinking all over their site the day I made the reservations.

Note to self- contact Expedia ref: no red warning signs about the horrendous parking situation that would occur on Friday, July 21, 2017, at 6:00 a.m.

Even though there were signs posting which levels had open spaces, Tori and I were a bit confused, so we wound up going round and round and round – following some other lost soul until we could see daylight. No, I hadn’t planned to park in the uncovered section of the covered parking garage, but we had to catch a flight – so whatever!

 

A Dear John Letter to my Younger Self

Dear Younger Self,

I feel that it is my obligation, as your senior, to fill you in on a few things. I intend to speak in such a way that you should have no problem comprehending; however, in an effort to eliminate any misunderstanding, I will also use colloquialism most familiar to you.

I am in charge now and I will be sure and remain apprised of all important issues, including but not limited to, annual dental exams. (I run this. I’m the shot caller and you can trust and believe I’m gone stay woke on everything I need to, including keeping my grill tight). In the event that I go out, I will decide when I am to return home and I will not party until the wee hours of the morning. (I bail when I say so and I won’t be turnt when the lights come on.) As a responsible adult, I return all phone calls promptly, I socialize with people in my age group and I dress and behave accordingly. (I’m grown. I hit ‘em back on the celly when I can, I hang with my squad, my gear is always on fleek and I slay every time I hit these streets). Please understand that I enjoy a low key and private style of life where I make every effort to mind my own business. (I’m basic, not boujee at all, and I always stay in my lane). In the run of a day, I make no effort to belittle others – I’m not overbearing, loud or outwardly aggressive, and I never go to the extreme. (I don’t throw shade and I’m never extra.)

Also, I can honestly say that although I drink, I do not have my deceased father’s penchant for libations. (Ion stay lit). My dear younger self, through this letter, you should gain comfort in knowing that I am perfectly fine with where I am. You, on the other hand, are out of control. (Look bae, this letter should give you life. By the way you know you have zero chill, right?) So now, without further ado, I would greatly appreciate it if you would sit quietly in the memories of my subconscious and allow me to take it from here. (now that’s a wrap, bye Felecia!)

 

Yours Truly,

(Deuces,)

 

Your Older Self