The Choice of Motherhood

Sometimes I write, and it seems more like a confessional than a blog. I'm always honest, but never hurtful. I wrote this on Mother's Day, but waited to post this because I didn't want to offend anyone or upset any Moms out there. So here it is now, my original Mother's Day post.

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Every year on the second Sunday in May we honor Mothers all across the country. We buy cards, flowers, and gifts of love showing our support and undying love and devotion to our mothers, grandmothers, aunt, and women who have influenced us as only a mother would or could do.

Going through any card aisle you can read a million cards with all sorts of sentiments that range from very mush and sappy to simple and nondescript.

There are flowers and bouquets of all colors and price ranges.

There are brunches you can attend, and gifts of chocolate strawberries that can be delivered to Mom. There is no end to the possibilities to say "I Love You, Mom!" through a gift or bouquet.

Despite everything we attempt to say on Mother's Day, for me the little things we don't say speak volumes louder. What we don't talk about on Mother's Day is the choice to be a mother. I can't think of a choice in life that defines or redefines- depending on your age- the rest of your life more than the choice to be a mother.

I think we overlook the fact that choice isn't just about whether or not to have the child, but it's about how you will raise that child. The sacrifices you are going to be willing to make for that child; the changes you will make to your life to accommodate every need of that human being.

It's no secret if you know me or have read this blog before, I started motherhood young. I was pregnant at 19 and the Princess was born when I was 20. I was married and so the "choice" to keep the baby was never really discussed as it was always a resounding "Of course we are having the baby!" We were truly ecstatic!

However, the conscious choice I did make was to make sure that NO MATTER what I would always be a good mother. That was a choice I made.

I made sacrifices, changed plans, and revised career tracks to accommodate this beautiful being I brought into this world. I made certain she was always first in my world and nothing else mattered. The same was true for when my son was born. His early education was a challenge and I learned more about mothering than I thought possible, but I made the choice to be a good parent. I have poured my heart and soul into my children, and the pay off has been immeasurable.

I have a great relationship with both my son and daughter. They are warm, kind, smart, witty, responsible, head-strong, courageous, compassionate, and everything else a mother could hope for in her children. I truly believe they are a direct reflection of the choices I've made during the journey of motherhood. My good choices have resulted in great children!

I don't say this as a pat on my back or to champion myself as an awesome testament to motherhood.

I say this because not every mother-child relationship is quite as blessed. Not every mother made the choice to be a good mother, and I get tired of people dismissing poor parenting with the banal excuse of "they did the best they could".

Did they? Did they really make the selfless sacrifice of being a good parent? Did they really make decisions that would help their child grow in a loving family? Or did their selfish choices hinder their child's growth? Were they a good role model for their children? Did they do everything possible to be the best version of themselves they could be in order to be the best parent possible?

Few people have the courage to ask themselves these questions. Fewer people ever want to find out the answers.

So tonight before I close my eyes on Mother's Day 2014, I ask myself "am I making a choice to be a good parent?"

The answer is a resounding YES!

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Turning Pages

There are milestones in our lives that define us, that allows us to close one chapter and begin another. Some milestones allow more than closure of chapter, but a closure of a volume of chapters and the beginning of a new story.

As a military family, it seems we often close volumes, containing stories and chapters of this or that duty station, of this deployment or that reintegration process. There are stories about family vacations, and traveling Europe, and moving, and packing up this house, and buying that house. All of these stories containing the smiles, tears and joys of living and breathing the life of a military family. 

This week my other half, and by proxy the rest of my family, closed an important volume this week. After almost 20 years of blood (not hers), sweat and tears, we closed the volume on the former spouse (FS). This week he signed what should be the LAST court order, the LAST suit, the LAST shake down for more "entitlement" payouts. And I have to say- I couldn't be happier!!!!! Well maybe I could be if we won the lottery right now! *wink*

I won't divulge too many details, as they are not mine to share, but I will share MY experiences. Since I started dating my Hubby it has been an assortment of threats, modifications, suits, contempt orders, shake downs for money, missed visitations, claims of adoption, denial of parental rights, harassment of employers, outright lies, a parade of attorneys, nasty emails, ill wishes, and sense of impending doom that comes with all of this. It seemed like just when things were settling down to a sense of normalcy, she was at it again. Her demands and threats as inconsistent as the winter in the south. Her only consistency was the underlying motivation, which I believe was to stay relevant in our (Hubby's) life. 

This week, it all ended. Hubby signed that last piece of paperwork that liberated our family from the chains of bondage to that woman. (And I use those words lightly.)

So we should be ecstatic right!? Celebrations. Parades. Drinks and "Round is on me!" Clapping. Confetti.  Not so much. 

No war is won without casualties. No battle is fought that doesn't have some collateral damage. 

The latest victim: the Father-Son Relationship.

I'm not sure how they will repair this rift or if it has a fix. Sometimes flat tires can't be patched, you just need to buy a new tire. I'm not suggesting he "buy" a new son, but it may be that this relationship has no repair and that instead they will need to build a new one. Start from scratch. Build from the ground up. 

I don't have the answers, but what I do know is that I can hear the hurt in what hubby doesn't say. I see the pain of losing his son masked behind the joy of closing the volumes of chapters that include the former spouse. 

I can only hope that Son2 can understand the pain he caused, and own his part in this. I can only hope that Son2 can see the choices he made led to this final destruction. I can only hope Son2 will learn that children of divorced parents need to stick up for their separate relationships with each parent.  I can only hope that Son2 never experiences the pain and heartache of divorce and the struggles that can accompany the process if the bitterness remains. 

For my husband, I hope his pain and anger subside to a level that is manageable. I hope his rage against the situation doesn't consume him from the inside out. Most importantly I hope he learns to forgive her and Son2. There is no healing without forgiveness, and there is no peace without healing. 

As for my family as a whole, we'll be ok. We'll be ok because we are closing this chapter. We are finishing this storyline. We will be ok, because today is the start of a new chapter. Today we turn the page, and all we see is a clean sheet. Today we start a new story- one that doesn't include....who again? *wink*

My new job: Learning Coach

Yup. That's me. Learning Coach extraordinaire.

Mom by morning. Learning Coach by day. Exhausted by night.

Lather. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

What's a learning coach you ask? It's any adult (usually mom) who facilitates learning via virtual lessons and school, while still doing more or less what a homeschool teacher/mom does.

Let's start at the beginning......

First, a recap of my anal retentive tendencies...I'm a researcher. Not only do I love to do it, it soothes my angst and worry, especially during a pending PCS (Permanent Change of Station- military speak for "fuck me! we are moving again!"). I researched my ass off about schools, the local housing and job markets, and as much as I could about the area.

What I found was disturbing. Schools were not the best in the immediate county of the new Army post, with state tests being the barometer for success. Hey I don't decide this, your our lovely government officials seem to think success is directly linked to some stupid test the kids are prepped all year to take. Never mind the fact that teachers teach to the test, but I digress.

So, blah blah... scores were shitty in the area that we really wanted to live in. Odd occurrence given the fact that 3 major companies are located within spitting distance of the area: Gulfstream, Mitsubishi and JCB. Oh wait, and the housing market has houses in this area that command upwards of $350, 000 homes. Ludicrous! The neighboring counties had better schools, but in one of them the housing market was even higher, if you can believe that. In some instances rent increased by $400-600. Yeah.  In the other county, it seemed rural and from what I could see the drive hubby would have to endure would be difficult.

Lotsa research. No assuaging of fears. Minimal options. And the PCS is right in the middle of the school year which doesn't allow for a huge margin of error. So I keep looking.

In this research I find Georgia Cyber Academy. Hear the choir of angels? Well it was a life saver. It was a virtual public school system open for any student living in Georgia. Hmmm.... keep talking.
The sample lessons online and the information they provided was a huge plus for me, because it allowed me to see exactly what we were getting into. I thought it was a great idea! Online schools, interactive lessons, point and click assessments, and even Blackboard collaborative classrooms where the kids received direct instruction from an actual certified teacher! Winning!!!!!!

What more could you want? School in your underwear or jammies. Wait isn't that always the bad dream? Either way, it was a win win. So I thought.  Now if you know my child, you know he is a computer/gaming geek. He is a techie. I'm thinking attending a public school that's virtual, with no building that he had to wake up and to go, and no real set schedule- well I thought that was right up his alley.

Yea. No.

Week one could have been Navy Seals Buds Training for all the torture it was. He whined and moped and literally cried about the amount of work he was doing. Mind you, it was from 8:45am until about 3:00 or so and no homework! The lessons were no longer than a 55-65 minute class session, and the activities were incorporated right into the assignment/learning.

By Friday I was ready to kill him. On Saturday we went out and got him all he needed so that he could attend the regular local middle school. Let's see how that works for ya big guy!

It didn't. He went there for 1 day. I left the school crying when I left him (fodder for another post- How Shitty My Experience Was at West Chatham Middle), and he walked out at 2:45pm damn near in tears. Between unruly students in Math and the teacher continuing to teach through the disruptions, to a fight in science class, and eventually kids upending chairs in a classroom. I think he got his first real taste of how the other half lives- you know the half that attend crappy public schools. This speaks nothing of the crappy attitudes I had dealt with that morning in Guidance department.  We withdrew him and took back his school uniforms. Thankfully Wal-Mart was friendlier in their return policy than the school staff had been to us on our first day.

Score one in the winner's column for GCA. He promised he would make it work until the next school year.


And that is how I became the Learning Coach.


We are about a month into this adventure, and some days I want to bash my head, or his, against the table. Some akin to the scene in True Lies with Arnold Schwarzenegger, where he is riding in the car with the used car sales man, and he head slams the salesman's head into the steering wheel. Go watch it and you'll understand. *wink*  I haven't caused him harm, yet, and by the looks of it we should make it until May 23rd, which is the official last day of school.

I do have to say, it's a nice change of learning/teaching modality. It really syncs up nicely with our current generation's need for tech-y things all the time and the "right now" mode at which they process everything. They still have books and many of the supplemental activities take place offline, which allows me to interact with Bear while he is doing some active learning. I hate to admit this, but I think I like it more than the traditional brick and mortar- it's what we call the old fashioned building. *snort*  On top of all of that GCA, does a great job at trying to incorporate "field trips" or outside learning opportunities. We will be attending a Science event in our area next month and it takes us out to the coastal areas to learn about the local environment. Oh did I mention that it counts as "classroom" time? Too cool!

All in all, I'm happy we had an alternative for schooling- many people don't and are stuck sending their kids to sub standard schools, wondering what's next for their child. I'm truly blessed that right now our lives permit me the time and space to make this work. I can't imagine trying to do this 10 year ago.

Georgia Cyber Academy and k12.com- I'm giving you a 2 thumbs up!



Oh and GCA, I'm also giving you my résumé and filling out an application for the 2014-2015 school year. How about a job next year?

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Dry humping my last good nerve

Teenage daughter.


That's it in a nutshell. Need I say more? Probably not, but I have a feeling you want more so here it is.

This teenage daughter wasn't all bad, at one point I liked her, actually enjoyed her company. Now her mere presence makes me want to punch her in the face. Yea yea, a bit violent, but I have raised/spawned this teenage witchy monster, and I am now paying the price. So if I want to punch her in the face, I feel entitled to those feelings. I feel entitled to do it, but I am not sure how that plays out in family court. *chuckle*

Anywho.... she was recently in FL visiting her bio-dad. While she was there she got her driver's license. Not a problem, she can drive in the states. Great! Bravo! Rock it out!

HUGE problem here in Europe!

For starter's she has only been driving for like a hot minute. I have grey hairs that are older than her driving privileges; grey hairs that have been plucked and regrown, older than her driving experience. I have forgotten more about driving that she has experienced. She literally had her license for 4 months before we moved here to Germany, and she hasn't really driven that much in the last year and a half.
Uh huh.

So there's that.

There is also the extensive test you have to take here. I mean 150 signs you have to learn, extensive. There is the speed limit, which is about 80 mph, on average. There is the fact that driving in Europe is totally different than stateside driving. Merging, traffic circles, and all sorts of other shit.

Oh wait! Yes, the biggest factor of them all..... insurance. We called USAA to get an estimate of what it would cost us to add her to the insurance. *drum roll* It would DOUBLE our premiums! DOUBLE! Just so she can drive. Best part of all, she can't drive a stick shift, which is Hubby's car, and she sure as hell ain't driving my NEW car.

So having said all that... she approaches me this morning, and says very matter-of-factly that next week I need to take her to get her USAEUR driver's license (United States Army Europe). I CALMLY ask her what for. She responds so she can drive. DUH! I calmly told her everything I just mentioned above. She huffs and puffs, and says: "I'll figure something out." What do I say: Nothing. Why? Because at that moment kind words escaped me, and I was channeling some evil spirit who wanted to pop her head like a grape. So I did what any (in)sane mom would do, I walked away. What did I want to say: "Figure something out? This coming from the teenager who wanted an iPhone...had to have it... made a deal to pay for her $80 a month cell phone plan, who now finds herself over $500 in the hole? Thank goodness we pay that fucker or else it would be turned off! Maybe what you need to figure out is how to get a mutha freakin' job! Oh wait you don't think you need one or that you should have to pay your cell phone since we make enough to cover it! You over privileged brat!" 

Does her audacity end here? Nope.

We took her visit a college recently in Georgia. Did the tour and when it came time to see the dorms she was impressed. Hell! I was impressed! They were phenomenal. So we look into the bedroom of this 2 bedroom apartment type dorms, and she says to us: "I don't know about this one. It has been years since I have slept on a twin sized bed. I am not sure how that's going to work."

I wish I could tell you she was joking. That she was like: "bahahaha! Just teasing!" She wasn't.

I thought I was going to have to peel the Hubs off of her. He was ready to come unglued. We didn't raise her to see the things she has as an entitlement, but more of a privilege, a gift we give her out of love and a desire for her life to be better.

Despite that, she truly believes she is entitled, deserving. The nerve.

The straw, the camel, broken back.... Twitter. If you read her tweets, you would think we were the most horrendous parents to ever have walked the face of the Earth. She tweets #fumingatyou, #ihateyourguts, #fml, #cantwaittoleavehere, and all sorts of other hash tags about the injustices of her life.

Same girl who doesn't have a job, doesn't have any real chores, doesn't have any responsibilities other than her grades.

All I can say is that if her intent was to make empty nest easier for me, BINGO! Mission accomplished.

The winds of change are blowing in a storm, and I don't mean the kind that blows in Julie Andrews to spoon it away with sugar and a nifty carpet bag. I mean the kind that takes you someplace where you gonna wish you could click your heels to escape.

I have one nerve left and she is not just dancing an Irish jig on it, she is dry humping the shit outta it.

Watch out folks.... Momma's gonna blow.

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I'm losing it, or maybe I never had it to begin with

This is not the vacation post I promised. I have a situation for which I need assistance, advice or really just a plain reality check on. I need someone with the similar life experiences to tell me that I am not fucking losing my mind here. Here is my scenario:

It's Sunday. Got a day planned at the lake with friends. Oldest child (Princess) has to work. 

I plan my schedule so that I can take said child to work at 12:45 for a 1:00pm shift, then head off to the lake. 

Said child gets off from work at 9-9:30 depending on closing routine. Got it. 

Blah Blah Blah, Lake, fun, hot, Blah Blah Blah home by 6:00pm

Child texts me at 9:15 or so, needs ride home. 

Head out to pick up said child. 

Arrive at work location to find child dressed in a short, revealing dress with wedges on (heels). No, this is not her work uniform, which by the way I dropped said child off to work in. Said child works in food service industry where uniform is required. 

I ask said child "Where's your uniform?" and "Why are you in a dress?" 

(insert excuses here about not sure when we were arriving home, maybe we would be out until late, not sure if she would need to get a ride home, she packed these clothes this morning when she didn't know what was going on)

Ummm... ride home? Packed clothes this morning? Huh? Not of it makes any sense.

We told her that we would be there to get her from work. Who stays at a lake until 9:00pm on a Sunday night? Who changes after a supposed 9+ hr shift into clean clothes smelling of fried food and sweat?

Child gets defensive. Says she'll bring me her time card to show me she was at work. I asked: "When did simple questions become an issue?" 

Wait! I know! I know! WHEN YOU STARTING LYING TO US!  (No I didn't say this, just the thought that passed between hubby and I as we looked at each in the car)

Yes! That's it! I believe I have the right to be suspicious and untrusting when you exercised your right to be deceitful. 

Best part is still yet to come. What part of the internet does this generation not understand? I know that when I post this blog entry, the entire WORLD could potentially read it (I said potentially, but probably only about 10 will actually read it). I know that this information is out there and regardless of whether I delete this post, ever, it is saved on some far far away server for perpetuity. I get that too!

This generation, Now as I call it, doesn't get it. As many times as she has been busted by Facebook posts, pictures and Tweets you think she would learn. NOPE! 

She tweets: "I can not wait to not live with you anymore. #psycho #getmeoutofhere"

Really? Really? Ungrateful ass! We just came back from a 12 day Mediterranean Cruise, and you can't wait to leave here? Seriously? Stick a fork in me...I'm done, well done. Overcooked. Burnt. 

Oh and then.... same kid who hasn't lifted a finger to take an SAT or study for one, despite having a $40+ book she "had to have." Same kid who wanted to talk to a recruiter and was all gung ho about the Reserves, who hasn't emailed or done anything towards that end either. Same kid who let her grades slip her junior year (one D and one C), her friggin' junior year! She tells me that she is getting information from Duke. HAH! Duke? Duke! She has never mentioned it in the 3 years she has been in high school!

For starters Dear Heart, you don't get into Duke on whim. You plan for Duke. You work for Duke. You don't fall into Duke by accident, it's by design. Never mind the cost! Without scholarships, we couldn't afford the housing never mind the tuition! So when I giggled because of the absurdity of this, she gets indignant and thinks I am not supportive. 

Really? And yes...that merited a Tweet as well. I think I got a hashtag of fuck off. Maybe it's time to take away the social media sites. 

As I look back on what I did right and what I did wrong in parenting, I know one thing to be certain: I gave too much. 

I never thought that could be the case growing up with little attention, affection and general understanding from my parents. They were always so wrapped up in their lives to be selfless enough for me. So I grew up getting what I wanted through hard work, hard knocks and hard times. I don't begrudge them. They did the best they could with what they had to give emotionally. 

But I swore not to be like that. I vowed to do better. And I thought I had, but there are moments and situations when I know I gave too much. And one word comes to mind: overprivileged. 

Now I don't how to fix it, or if I can. Most would say I am reaping what I sowed, and while that may be the case I am not throwing in the towel. 

There is a cool wind blowing and it's bringing change along with it, and I don't mean Obamacare. 

For now, I just need a sanity check. Please tell me that I haven't lost touch with reality. Tell me that it gets better. That some day I will actually miss her not living with us, and that I will miss these days. Ok well not these particular days, but the good days.  Someone tell me that she will look back and realize that she didn't have it so friggin' bad.  Someone just tell me that I will get through this next year, her senior year. 

Please. Anyone.

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BS Mom

Classroom mom, reading volunteer, PTA or team mom were never titles associated with my job description as mom. Not because I lacked a desire to volunteer in my kid's extracurriculars, but because I was always working full-time.

If you work full-time you know there just seems to be so little time in the day to work, take care of cooking/cleaning, run the kids to 1,000 activities, AND volunteer. If you have ever been a full-time teacher, there seems to be less free time. You spend your "free" time away from school grading, planing and doing things for your students. I believe this is worse when you are a high school teacher because there are SOOOOOO many after school functions that your administration and students expect you to attend. So for the last 8 years I haven't had the opportunity to be a volunteer parent.

Well I am making up for it now!

I am an official Boy Scout mom volunteer! Yeah for me... I think.

My official title is Activities Coordinator for the Troop. My unofficial job description is "Jack of all Trades." See I coordinate all the activities for the Troop. From start to finish I make sure that every month the boys have something going on. From camping trips to canoeing trips to coordinating 26 boys and 4 adults to attend a summer camp 4 hrs away...that's me! I am sooo official I have a SIGNATURE block with my name, title and the Troop logo. So who cares that I made it myself... I am still official. Now I just need to convince the Hubby that I need a uniform...which technically I do according to BSA rules, but trying explaining that as a volunteer I need to spend $80+ on a uniform.  I am also working on taking courses to become an ASM. For your Boy Scout laymen, that stands for Assistant Scout Master. Yup... me, Assistant Scout Master. BAH!

Yea it's fun, but it's not always easy. It's A LOT of work. Again I repeat: It is A LOT OF WORK! But I enjoy the feeling I get when my son knows that I am working on Troop stuff, and he wants to help. I enjoy the fact that I can get involved and dedicate so much time to it, and not have to worry about so many other things. There is a sense of accomplishment. It is a positive feeling.

Until I have to deal with other scouts parents. (playing Debbie Downer Theme Music: waaah, waaah, waaah)

Right. Not everything is happy happy, joy joy. Even in scouting.

My motto is simple: "If you don't like what and how I am doing it, take it out of my pay."

Yup. That's how I roll.

All joking aside, I am delighted to be a BS Mom...that is Boy Scout, in case you haven't really followed the post and have not understood the play on words. Yea, I'm fully aware of my bs nature, but right now I am a Boy Scout (BS) mom and that makes me PROUD!

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Lessons my mother never intended to teach me

There are days I reflect on my life and what I'm doing as a parent. Mother's Day was one of those days. A day to wonder where in the hell did I get the skills to be a mother. Most women might look to their mothers and see many lessons learned at the hands of awesome role models. Unfortunately, I am not one of them. I didn't have bad mothers they were just unique in the own right.

I won't vent about all the injustices or how crappy my childhood was because it wasn't always bad. It's just many of the lessons my mom taught me were never intended to be lessons. I learned by watching what NOT to do. I learned how to be a mom because I didn't want my children to feel the way I did growing up. The ironic part is that I had two moms, and they both taught me things they never intended to be lessons.
The worst part is that as I struggle with my 17 year old daughter, I really wonder if I am a good mom or if I am failing miserably.
Here are some of those lessons:

• Thanks Mom for teaching me that affection is not a bad word. I hug and kiss my kids daily, and I am unapologetic about my displays of affection. I don't freak out when my son wants to run his hands through my freshly done hair or when my daughter purposefully licks my glasses. I am happy they want to be near me and want to hang and love on me. I want them to know that love is more than a word, or a gift. Love is a hug. Love is holding hands while walking out of the mall. Love is sitting so close to me on the couch that I can feel his little rhythmic breathing. I can't  begin to tell how little my ration card was utilized when it came to affection growing up. 
• Thanks Mom for teaching me that dedicating time to your children isn't a terrible task. I run my kids around to all sorts of activities. I run to Boy Scouts and stand in line for three hours for the latest midnight release of a game. I pick up children from work at 9:30 pm when I want to be sleeping. I pick up children from late movies and friends' houses even if I have other plans. I let them be in 10,001 things because I want them to be well-rounded adults but I also want them to have fond memories of their childhood that include all sorts of childhood shenanigans. Running them everywhere may be tedious and tiring sometimes, but its part of being a parent.  
• Thanks Mom for teaching me that telling your children you never wanted kids isn't a positive way to teach self-worth. I express to my kids almost daily how important they are to me, and how they are my greatest sources of pride and joy. They know that I would lay down my life for them and wouldn't even think twice. They know that I will miss them when they are gone and enjoying their own lives. They know that I will never really be far away from them. They also know that they are my greatest accomplishments in life. I tell them because I never want them to doubt that they are my blessings and not my curse. 
• Thank you Mom for teaching me that fairness is not the same as equity. I have two children, and I am fair to both in how much time I devote to them and how I treat them. However, I do know that what works for one doesn't work for the other. I know that I have to be a special parent to each child, and be who they need me to be based on their needs, not my own.
• Thank you Mom for teaching that a spotless house doesn't mean a perfect life. My house gets messy and sometimes the dishes are in the sink, and my kids aren't taking out the trash. However, we aren't obsessing about the chores, the floors or the nuances of house and home. 

I know as an adult that my Moms did the best they could with what they had. I understand that completely, and I am grateful that my childhood was what it was because it helped me be a better mom so that my children would have a wonderful childhood. 

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Clothing Optional

So we live in Europe where nudity is acceptable. Actually, they don't have the nekkid issues we do. Completely nude spas, oh and they are co-ed. Topless sunbathing. Men in barely-there speedos. So ok. You get used to the porn on television after 10pm. You stop gawking at the porn plastered on the screens at the bars. It becomes part of the culture. You learn to deal.

(Enter stage left- The Princess)

She is acclimating quite well to this new culture. She is a nudist.

There I said it. I should feel better facing the truth but NO I don't feel better.

She would rather be naked. She said so herself. She doesn't like clothing. She doesn't particularly like underwear.

This is really scary! She's built quite shapely (much to mine and her Dad's chagrin) and she has legs that seem to stretch across the Atlantic. We won't even talk about her bubble butt, which used to be SOOOO cute when she was 4 and now at 17 I wish I could lop off with a spork!

She walks around the house in her bra and underwear. She forgets to close her blinds when she is dressing. She HAS NO FRIGIN' SHAME! She was walking around in her underwear last weekend when our friend's 15 year old walked into our hotel room. He was all dumb struck and stuttery, she was all "it's like a bathing suit bottom anyways".


Really??? Seriously??? Do you know how awkward that apology is? Went something like this:

Me: "Oh yea....sorry J. I don't know what she was thinking when D came in and she was in her t-shirt and underwear?"

J: awkard laughter "it's whatever! She is right it is like a bathing suit bottom."


Next day. Family football. Our family versus theirs. Princess in spanks and that's it. No one else knew she was free jaying but I did. That was enough.


I sit here shaking my head thinking when did I start raising a nudist? When did my sweet innocent little monkey turn into this alien from planet Teendom?

The worst part is that she isn't coy about it. She isn't flaunting or flirty with her body image. She is just comfortable with who she is and that is great. That is what makes this whole thing so difficult! Do I condone this newfound freedom or do I squash her self-image and tell her nudity is wrong? There has to be a happy medium. We won't even get into the options she has for clothing these days. Talk about parading around damn near naked. Clothing options for teens are either booty shorts or short booty shorts.

Fuck. {insert frustration and confusion here}

I should've seen it coming when she was 3. She loved streaking. She would rip her underwear off and run around the house "nakey." She would shriek with laughter and tell me "Look Ma, I nakey! Look my hiney ma!"


Yea... I should have stopped it then. Oh wait! I did.

Advice is WELCOMED here! 

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What type of Mom are you?

Parenting. The only job in the world that has no real training PRIOR to becoming one. You don't even need a license to parent. You need a license for damn near everything else. You need a license to fish and hunt. You need a license to operate a motor vehicle. Actually, you have different types of licenses depending on the vehicle you want to operate: car, motorcycle, commercial vehicle.

You need to be licensed to practice law, to teach and to even fly an airplane (grateful for that one). Also thankfully they license those who take care of our health ie. doctors, surgeons, nurses.  That's always plus!

I am by no means suggesting that the government should step in and start dictating parenting or who/how one can have a child. Lord knows the government can't fix its own House let alone dictate to me what's wrong in mine. I merely use that to draw a comparison that you can f*ck up a person's life forever, and never had any training otherwise. Much like a government official can f*ck up an entire nation in four years with little to no training. But I digress....

It's my belief that this is the reason parents are willing to dispense so freely with advise on how to parent. You never walk up to your attorney and tell him/her how to win your case. You never go to your doctor's appointment ready to lay out your own diagnosis. We never tell a teacher what and how they should be... scratch that. Parents do it all the time. Pisses me off that parents....oh nevermind. I used to be the indignant teacher, now I am the bitchy parent. But....

I digress again...Point is we so eagerly tell other parents how to raise their children, most times withouth being solicited for this free advice. This is especially true with women who are pregnant for the first time. Every other mom has a tip or ten on every topic from breastfeeding, to getting the baby to sleep through the night, to holding the baby too much, to not holding the baby enough, what type of diapers to purchase and what kind of stroller is top notch. You know what I say to all this advice?

Piss off!

Every person has their views on how to raise a child. These views are much like farts. Yours are completely tolerable (unless you had a good hearty chili for lunch- chock full of beans, then not so much). Other's farts are completely unbearable. (This adage applies to everything from opinions to actual children themselves.) The inspiration for this post came from a friend who was trying to comfort another friend who's Facebook was being inundated with messages about her upcoming, albeit past due, delivery date. I believe Krista (my friend) summed it up best in the overall jist of the message: don't worry about all the advice and just worry about what kind of mum you want to be. (Yes Krista is British!)

Here is what she had to say:

"You'll soon learn, there are different " breeds of mum"

1. Alpha mum- who lives her life through her kids, who can't bare the thought of her snot nosed lil shit getting beat on sports day.

2. Earth mum (aka scruffy mad delusional nutter) - feeds kids on grass (organic of course) and soya milk, prevents their kids even havin a slice of cake at a birthday party coz she convinced the E number devil is the CEO of cadburys!

3. Yummy mummy- well I can only think of one word to define...... BITCH! How dare she walk out of cygnet (maternity) wing in size 6 jeans when the rest of us waddle out feeling like a lactating moose that's just been kicked in the vag'!

Last but certainly not least....... THE SLUMMY MUM....I can relate to this one, YES I have sat through kids assembly to notice that I do infact have yesterday's knickers (panties) scrunched up in the bottom of my jeans because school run in the morning doesn't always go as precise as you'd planed! This mum admitts to not being perfect but try's her fuckin best,loves her kids and just "gets on with it" !"

I love this! So true, and most days I am The Slummy Mummy. Driving my kid to the bus stop in my workout clothes and hair in a messy bun.  Somedays I cook, and other days we consume a cornucopia of leftovers from the week's meas. But I do try my best, even when I fall miserably short of the mark. 

I can also think of several other types of Moms you might want to avoid becoming. Here 

are mine:

1. "I can do it all!" Mom- This mom is involved in all the committees known to her and the community. She is an active PTA parent, serves on the school improvement board, is a Sunday school teacher, and manages to be a Scout leader as well. She is an excellent baker and chef, and every meal is home cooked with only the freshest of ingredients acquired that morning from the local farmer's market. She is also delusional. Because there are just not enough hours in the day to be this good. Believe me  I have tried. 

2. "Not my child!" Mom- This is the mom who believes that her child is NEVER wrong. Her child is a victim of circumstances, bad teachers, bullying, teasing, or just being overly tired or under-medicated. This is the child who reaches their teens not being able to accept responsibility for their actions. As a former high school teacher, these were often times the worst parents to deal with and the most childish 17 year olds. This Mom is doing her child and society a HUGE disservice. Failure isn't the worst your child will have happen to them in their lives. 

3. OCD Mom- She means well, but her execution is off the mark. She is obsessive about cleaning, wiping, dusting off and generally keeping the kids in doll like status. (This was my mom.) This mom doesn't want her children's clothes to be soiled and so these kids sit and act like little doll babies instead of running around ape shit in the yard. Sadly her kids still get sick, and walk through mud puddles on their way home, on purpose. Worst part is that these moms create little OCD minis. 

4. Run around Mom- This mom believes the more activities their child is in the more well rounded they will be. She runs them from dance classes to piano lessons to language classes to gymnastics. These children have such a scheduled life that they have to pencil in play time, and then only if mom can squeeze it in. Of course provided it doesn't conflict with anything else on the schedule. This mom has a calendar, planner, electronic back up and even an assistant. These kids are smart, and can do tons of cool shit, but they tend to have that zombie look on their face as they get shuttled from activity to activity.

The truth is that most of us moms have a little bit of all of these in us. The key is to balance them in just the right doses. That is truly the hardest part of being a mom.

Knowing your child, and having the presence of mind to reflect on your parenting is a tough but necessary tool. Just because you are a parent doesn't mean you always have to know what you are doing. Don't be afraid to step back and take a look at it from the outside. Also don't be afraid to adjust your parenting style for each child. Every child is different and what works for one might not work for another. When all else fails try, try again. It's the reason God gives you more than one child. If you screw up on the first one, you always have a do-over hence the second or third child. ;)

Oh and if you don't know yet, you'll find out in your child's teens that you don't know shit about shit. Just ask my teen. I have only gotten dumber with experience. 


Share your parenting experiences, good and bad! It's always good to hear that you are not alone in the black hole of Parenting. 






Lastly, a very special THANK YOU! to my lovely mate, Krista. Whom without her wit and comical self this post would not be possible. Thanks for the inspiration Bootman! :)

Krista and I in Edinburgh. Holy Socks, Bootman!

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Butterfly Kisses

Monday, April 10, 1995 was a glorious day. I'd been having contractions and in labor (on and off) for the last week, and I was finally admitted to Blanchfield Army Community Hospital (BACH). 11:00 am right on the nose she was born: Princess KNB. She was a pill from the onset! A bought of apnea, a subarachnoid hemorrhage, 24 hours in critical care in the NICU, a shaved head, and a freaked out 20 year old mom we finally got to take her home 4 days later on a beautiful spring morning.

I could write about all the memories I have about this wonderful little girl, and this post would be pages long, both happy and sad. She has been a roller coaster ride of emotions, and I am sure that won't change.

I will say this: I love her just as much now as I did the day I first laid eyes on her.

She is a constant source of happiness and consternation in my life, and I am grateful for that. She has taught me how to be a parent, how to be an adult, how to make sacrifices, and how to experience the real pleasures in life. I am proud that she has turned out to be a good, loving person who cares about others but isn't a doormat. She is smart, articulate, witty and so much damn fun to around. She isn't perfect but that is what makes her awesome! She is a work in progress, and the sad part is that my role in her life is slowing down.

As she enters adulthood she will learn to carve her own way and make her own decisions. I simply hope she knows how much I love her and how important she will always be to me. I hope she always knows that my home and my arms will always be open for whatever she may need them for. For everything I hope I have taught her, she has taught me more.

This last year will be difficult as I learn to let go and love her the way a parent loves a grown child. I am not sure how to do that though. But I do know that the time went by way to fast and if I had to do it over, I wouldn't change a thing.

I love you baby girl.

Here is what I hope she takes away from her first 17 years.

   

She had loving parents since she was born. She was conceived in love. 

She's had everything she needed and more. 

She has known the love of good friend

She always has fun in everything she does. 

She will always have me close to her side. 

She has known the love of two Dads.
She has been fortunate never to remember a time where she was without one or the other. 

She has known the love of two brothers.

She has been taught to treat herself with respect and dignity so that others will do the same. 

She has always had her family by her side.

She has traveled the world and seen what it can offer. 

I just hope she realizes how much we love her and how we will ALWAYS be here for her. 

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Terms of Affection

I like affection. I am a huggy, kissy, wanna be close to my kids kinda mom. Probably has everything to do with the fact that my mom was a "don't mess up my hair" "don't wrinkle my clothes" "I have make-up on" kinda Mom. She still is persnickety but I have learned to love her at arms length, which is what she prefers. Me....well I'm different. I want my kids to know what a good mommy hug feels like. I want them to be able to walk up and throw their arms around me and not sweat the small shit. I want them to know and have felt the safety and comfort that only Mom's arms can bring. I believe that's what they will remember the most. Not whether my make-up was still intake after some hugging. 

The Princess is taller than me. Shocker. She is easily amused at the fact that I am about an inch or two shorter. Her idea of hugging and affection is to drape my arms OVER her shoulders. This way my arms are pulled upwards over her, and I look and feel shorter than I am. Nice. :) But I like it. She still wants to hug me and curl up with her Mom and that's ok by me. She also thinks its cute to hop on my back in public like she is still 7 and not 17. 

I let her. 

Not by choice but because I usually don't see it coming and it takes everything out of me to maintain my balance. Once at the grocery store I fell over. We both rolled literally and rolled laughing. :) Good times. 

Bear on the other hand at 11, PDA is totally unacceptable, but he's still a mama's boy at heart. So we had to come up with a way to hug in public without the embarrassment of hugging your mother. Of course they came after I picked him up from school and went to hug him in public. Major faux pas for a 5th grader. I was schooled that day. I also lost cool points. 

Enter stage right: Fist Bump Hug. 

You essentially just fist bump when you feel the urge to hug in public. I like it, and because he knows its still hugging he sometimes blushes. Which is even cuter! Yesterday he fist bump hugged me in the bowling alley. He even told his dad it was a public hug. So when they fist bump hug they have to "guy" it up and the fist explodes at the end. Typical boys. If shit isn't exploding then it isn't done right.

Hey I will take these terms of affection from my kids. At some point soon for the Princess and shortly thereafter for the Bear, they won't be around full time to hug and kiss on. I only get to kiss and hug on them freely for 18 years, and I'm not wasting a minute. I'll take whatever I can get! 

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Word Police

***Post contains harsh language. Read at own discretion. Don't complain if you were offended.***

At some point I must have subscribed to a daily newsletter sent out by a parenting site. On Monday I noticed my inbox had an article titled 10 Words Moms Shouldn't Say. Curious, I clicked on it. Can I just say....WoW! If this is the measuring stick for my vocabulary around my children, then I am not winning the Mother of the Year Award for 2012 or this lifetime for that matter. The 10 words they selected were:

1. Hate: Ummm let's see, I am pretty sure that I have used this word daily since it was introduced into my vocabulary. My kids have heard it and I am pretty sure I have said "I f*cking hate (fill in the blank)."

2. Stupid: 100% positive I have called Bear's teacher that this year. On several occasions. I know when Princess was dating Douche Bag, I asked her a couple times: "are you stuck on stupid?" Strike 2.

3. Retard: If you pronounce it the way they do in The Hangover, does that count?

4. Gay: Now wait a minute. I have a really good friend who is gay, and my kids know it. Why is this a problem? Besides at 11 and 17, I think they know what it means both to describe sexuality and the way the youth is using it synonymously as stupid.

5. Loser: Not everyone is a winner. Life has winners and losers. The sooner we get kids to wrap their heads around the concept that they won't always win, but it's the heart and effort you give something that makes you better....the better off this country will be. So guess what....sometimes we gotta call it like you see it....loser.

6. Dumb: Yup, sometimes my kids do dumb shit or make dumb choices. When they do, I call them on it. Strike # 452 against me.

7. No: Really? So what we say YES to everything? How stupid is that? Dumb actually.

8. Shut-up: I admit that it is probably not the right choice of words to ask your children to keep quiet. However when "hush" or "keep it down" or "settle down" or "quiet" doesn't work, a hearty "Shut the hell up!" manages to stop them in their tracks. Again, I don't think I ever set out to be Mother of the Year so I'm not that worried that I won't get it.

9. God: Their rationale was that even if religion isn't present in your family life you never know when it could offend someone else by using the word. The context was like OMG! Right. Ummm.... I'm thinking that I violate this commandment almost daily. Sorry Big G, its a hard habit to break. I still don't agree about not being offensive, everyone is always offended by some one or some thing. People need to lighten up and stop taking everything so personal.

10. Bad: Yea, I can see the merits of not telling a toddler they are bad. However at the ripe age of 11 and 17 they need to understand a thing or two about bad. There are bad choices, bad behaviors, bad hangovers, bad choices in men, bad choices in women, bad ideas, and all sorts of other bad things. Now I could use the word shitty but if we are griping about the word bad, I think shitty is bad alternative.


If I had to make an educated guess these words are probably words that moms with toddlers shouldn't use. Got it- check. There are words that I SHOULD try to avoid in my house but I don't always and that makes for some colorful language around my house. So I created a quick list of words I should probably stop using in my house. What do you think?

1. Fuck: What can I say? I really like this word. It can be placed anywhere in a sentence and it brings color, excitement or a laugh. It is a verb, adjective, noun, adverb, and I believe it used correctly it take on ANY part of speech. However, people tend to frown upon its use and no one likes a child who uses the word.

2. Asshat: I haven't been impressed with the military DOD schools and I have encountered many an asshat this year, and it has become the fall back word.

3. Fucktard:  See people get offended by the word retard, and honestly its probably in poor taste to use it considering that I am an educator or used to be when I was employed. Any who, fucktard is a combo of my favorite word, fuck and the offensive retard. You get fucktard. Its a great word! Do I really have to let it go?

4. Ass: See I can combine ass with other words to make effective names. There is the fall back asshat. There is the classic asshole. There is the modern day assbag, and never forget the hilarious ass munch (someone who is always kissing ass.) Yea...not sure about eliminating all these words.

5/6. Cunt: This is a recent addition to my vocabulary. Not that I didn't know what it meant, but I only reserved its usage for one person in my life. Now that I am living in Europe and my closest friends are Brits, it has made its way into my weekly usage, OK maybe daily. See the Brits use it all the time, at least the Brits that I am associating with. So not only people can be cunts, but someone can do something to you and it be "a cunt move".  Or the lovely combo word gunt. That is when your gut hangs over your cunt. It's a gunt.

7. Shit: While obviously the lesser of all the words previously listed, it still can be a pretty powerful word. There are shit heads, shit stains, shit heels and shit sticks. Often times things are compared to shit. Something is hot as shit, or funny as shit, you can feel like shit, or you can even stop the shit altogether.  So yea... I should probably eliminate that one too because I am 100% positive I have used all the shit derivatives around my kids, if not at them.

8. Bitch: It's not sounding so bad after reviewing the other words in my vocab. Maybe I will keep this one. Is it better if you say BEEEOTCH?

9. Dick: This is a perennial favorite and can be used for males and females alike. I think I may have even called my children a dick or two. Not my finer moment but I think they survived. Probably should decrease its usage, which can be extensive. However, I do have to say that my Brits use it in a most hilarious manner: dicksplash.  It's hard to use that word and not bust out laughing!

10. Douche: Yea for obvious reasons you just can't go around calling people douches. Although many are, I certainly don't want to hear my kids use it. However more importantly, I am grateful that I didn't have to explain to my kids what a douche is because I had to explain it to an adult and that was embarrassing enough. For them, not me. So douche- be gone.


So those are the words I should have given up for Lent. Is it too late for that?



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Damn it was COLD!

This past week was PERFECT spring weather! Temps were in the mid 60s, sun was shining bright and it was warm as shit. I was excited because this was Bear's first weekend campout with his Boy Scout Troop since crossing over from Webelos.

I had spent the last two weeks buying all his equipment that he would need as a new Boy Scout and making sure he was squared away for this weekend trip, especially since I wasn't going and Dad wasn't around to help with the packing list.

Then something happened on Friday. The ass dropped out of the temperature and weather and things went south. By the time I was scheduled to drop bear off at the camp site at 4:30 it was a whole 10 degrees colder than that morning.

All I can say is that Saturday was cold as crap and there was a light drizzle. Promising for retaining some heat and not being a dreadfully cold night. Uhhh nope. Skies cleared around 5 or 6pm, and it was clear skies all night. Yea, you guessed it it dropped below freezing.

I picked up Bear Sunday morning from the camp site, and he was a frozen popsicle. Mostly because he wasn't dressed correctly, but he made it through the weekend. I'm proud of him!

His "after action report" was that the sleeping bag worked well and he was warm until Sunday morning. I appreciated that because my guilt was getting the best of me. I am happy to say he had fun, he was no worse for the wear and he learned some good Boy Scout lessons. So over it was a successful campout, but DAMN it was cold!

The Backwards Slide

I believe every parent reaches a point in their teen's life where they stop and say: "Wow, my teen seems like they are really maturing and growing up to be such well rounded young adult." BAH! Looking back I think that was like at FOURteen. *sigh*

Now at almost SEVENteen, I think the Princess is doing that backwards slide tumble swan dive into immaturity hot mess status. The last two weeks have been a true trying of my patience. Soon I will be doing a face dive into alcohol, chocolate, and pills. And not necessarily in that order. LOL

Two weeks ago she was caught lying to me and to a friend's parents. She received the monumental ass chewing and subsequent grounding. WAH WAH WAH is probably what she heard. I know I sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher with a few choice obscenities sprinkled in there.

This week it was what I have dubbed as creative storytelling. There have been two this week actually. You see she didn't outright lie but she allowed me to believe one version of the truth and never corrected me on the reality of the situation. She wound up missing two class periods because of her escapades. She was trying to be cunning in allowing me to believe she was somewhere she was not... so when that attendance email about "did you know your child was absent for one or more periods on this day?" graced my inbox, I practiced what I preach and told the attendance lady at the high school that she was truant and not where she was supposed to be. So that cost her detention this afternoon. How did I find out about the lie you ask? The location she was supposed to be at contacted my husband in AFGHANISTAN because she wasn't there. NICE! Nothing screams epic mom failure like finding out from your deployed husband that your daughter was lying. Uggh... did I mention she gets in the car after detention this afternoon to inform me that she has detention again next week because she was talking about Chemistry during detention? RIIIGGHHT! That's why I you posted a picture of you and your friends in detention. That deserves a monumental WTF? ¡La Gente esta muy loca!

That should have been enough right? Not for my Princess who's as stubborn as an ass. Speaking of asses...is it too late to start beating her ass? (I use the term "beat" loosely for those who might think me capable.)

Moving along, which leads to the next issue this week.

This morning she leaves $40 on the computer for me, and she tells me this as she is leaving the house. I ask: "What's it for? Your cell phone bill?" (She is supposed to pay her own cell phone bill. Check out this post for more details. Bahaha!)

She responds: "Sure. Whatever. I had it and so you can put it towards that." Do you think she bothered to tell me that she charged $40 on my credit card for iTunes music? NOPE. I guess I know now what that 40 bucks was for. Sheesh. We won't even get into the cell phone bill issues. Suffice to say that last month the bill was well over $300.

I'm not sure what kind of crisis she is going through but I think the idea of being an adult is really scary to her. She has become more irresponsible the older she gets. Oh hell... the prospect of her going out into the adult world in a little over a year scares the shit out of me. What if she isn't prepared? Clearly. What if she can't make it? She seems to have forgotten how to do household chores and all the other things that she did around the house just a few months ago.

All the what ifs and I keep asking myself, what the hell am I doing? I feel like I am a new mom all over again. I feel like I should be reading one of the What to Expect Books. Do they make them for 204 month olds?

She has no clue what college she wants to attend. She has no idea what she wants to go to college for. She hasn't taken the SATs and she isn't even looking at colleges to determine which ones we will be visiting this summer. Yea.... who is this child? Where is my little girl? Oh yea....she is maturing into a well rounded adult.

Just forward the Parent of the Year award here to Germany. I might need it to knock some sense into her soon.





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Growing Pains

I brought home some items I purchased today that required Bear to try on pants and shoes. After making him drop trou in the middle of the living room and try on the new Scout pants, we have a strange conversation that went a little something like this:

Bear: "I think I need more boxers because if someone sees your whitey tighteys they tease you. It's just something else they can tease me about."


(Someone? Who is looking at your underwear?)


Me: "Ok bear. I will get you more boxers and no more whitey tighteys. That's not a big deal."


Bear: "Oh and can I shave my arms?"


Me: "What?!?"


Bear: "Well I have heard people talking about how hairy I am."


(Really?? Kids notice that and talk about it??)

Me: "Who is talking about it? Why do they care? I don't suggest it. It makes your arm hair grown back like this." At this point I make him rub the stubble on my legs. He laughs and is like "eeeeewww." Thanks Bear, just shaved the day before!

Bear: "Well that doesn't happen with my mustache when I shave."


Me: "When do you shave your mustache? Why?"


Bear: "Mom, I don't want to grow up faster than I have to, and I don't want to be the only 11 year old with a mustache."






Where is Dad? How do I teach him to shave? Should he even be shaving at this age? And he is using my leg razor....sheeessshhh. Just a little under 3 weeks before Dad returns and he can take over these conversations. These are growing pains that I am not fully equipped to deal with. Give me boobs, PMS and girl drama, that is my area of expertise. Not mustaches, and boxers. Although I do get mine waxed and I wear boy shorts to bed. Maybe I'm not that ill equipped.... on second thought, naaahh!

Dad get your ass home, I need you!




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Scouting Ain't Cheap

It seems like I am blogging more and more about Bear lately. It's not that Princess isn't giving me material to write about, it's just that Bear's is soooo much more light hearted. If I blog about Princess, it will seem more rant-like, considering her latest two 'episodes'.  Maybe I will blog about those......Moving along

After yesterday's fiasco with Scouts, he decided to stick with it while I decided that he had little chouce but to stick through it. Even if it killed me, because I doubt it will kill him.

At any rate, I already signed him up and paid for his Spring Camporee at the end of this month. So I head out today to start the quest of finding ALL the different items and accoutrements that he needs for his 1st ever Boy Scout trip. Heck last night I sat through an almost 2 hour class on what to buy and what NOT to buy for Scouts. You bet I was fully equipped with 4 pages of notes and the know how in order to shop today. I was a Momma on a mission!

Well let me remind you that I am in Germany. No Wal-Mart. No Target. No Cabela's. No Bass Pro Shop. No REI. It's the military base exchange (BX), the German sporting goods store or ordering it online and praying that shipping doesn't cost an arm and a leg. The best part is that delivery isn't consistent either. Hubby and Princess waited 8 weeks for their contacts. Gotta love it.

What did I find today in my search for scout stuff? I managed to get my hands on his cut away pants. The ones that unzip at the knee and go from long pants to short pants. I got him the hiking socks that are part wool and part wicking material. Yes, my 11 year old now owns wicking socks. I also got him a wicking t-shirt for under his scout shirt. I got him a mummy sleeping bag rated to a 15 degrees Fahrenheit which was not cheap. But the best part is that it doesn't require being rolled up and it comes in a compression bag! Sweet! And last but not least, I picked up his hiking boots. Did I mention that the BX doesn't carry off name brands? Yea, Bear is now the proud owner of Columbia Hiking boots. I don't own Columbia hiking boots. What's wrong with this picture?

All told... I spent a small fortune, and I am not even done. Tomorrow I have to get his badges sewn on, and check on a few Ebay bids I have for some other Scout stuff.

I have to say this could get real expensive, real fast. The more money and time I invest, he ain't NEVER getting outta Scouts. Ever.

The Showdown

It seems that every two or three weeks Bear and I have this showdown. It's like a Wild West kinda showdown. The sort where you hear the shutters slamming of people heading indoors and shops closing up. The tumble weed is drifting down the street, and him and I meet in the middle of road. Our eyes meet and the stare down begins. The looks we give each other are similar to the final showdown in the cemetery scene in the movie The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, theme music and all.

Ok, well maybe I exaggerate just a little, but sometimes it feels like the melodrama in my home is reaching toxic levels.

The catalyst? Boy Scouts.

Bear has been in Cub Scouts since he was in second grade. He has his Bobcat, Wolf,  Bear, Webelos badge, and he just completed his Arrow of Light. About two weeks ago he had this great cross over ceremony and now he is an official Boy Scout. AWESOME!

When we were stateside he wasn't all that interested in Scouts because the Pack wasn't very big or very active. Well here in Germany, you couldn't ask for more involved volunteers to head up Scouting. It's truly amazing! Side note: Thanks to those who volunteer! You are amazing!

Continue....

So what is the problem? One word: gaming.

I have a gamer. He loves his X-Box and I think his X-Box loves him. I'm actually willing to place money on it. He would rather game than just about anything else this world has to offer. He is in gamer groups, and he is good at it, but it takes up quite a bit time and it keeps him sedentary. Which I am not happy about. So at times he gets himself in a tizzy because I am using up precious gaming time. Hence the Boy Scouting issue. And as I mentioned in a previous post.... he was Scouting all day Saturday. So that makes TWICE this week. Stop the presses! Not TWO day?! The nerve of some people!

It had been about three weeks with no Scout conflict and we were due for a round.

He says to me tonight that he wants to quit Scouts. Really? I sigh and ask him why he wants to quit. Exasperated before the question is even out. Ready to pull my hair out one by one with a pair of pliers.

This is the condensed version of the heated conversation:

Bear: "It takes up too much of my time."


Me: "What would you be doing otherwise? Playing on your X-box?"


Bear: "Yes! What else is there to do?"


Me: "Uh Scouts?! That is why I have you in Scouts. So that you have something else that you can do!"


Does anyone else see the faulty logic in his thinking?

So after a round or two of whether or not to quit, why sticking with something is important, why he might regret it someday in the future, and blah blah blah Mommy crap, I say to him:

"If you can get your dad to approve you quitting, then I will leave it alone. " I failed to mention to him that I volunteered to chair the membership committee so that quitting really isn't a long term option. Eh, but what the hell.... let him ask his Dad.

Do you think he said anything to his dad with whom he was Facebooking? NOPE.

So off to Scouts we went.

How did it go?

He was assigned his patrol today.
He was thrilled!
He got his patrol badge today. "Mom you have got to sew this on for me." 
Thrilled some more!
There is no patrol leader yet.
He wants to be the patrol leader.
More excitement!

As we get into the car he says to me, "I'm going to try my best at the Camporee so that I can get that Patrol Leader spot!"


That is all I ever wanted. Stick with it and try your best! It's the Boy Scout motto for crying out loud!

So how long before we are back to "I wanna quit Scouts" again? Hopefully the showdowns will be fewer and further between. Especially as I start to dish out lotsa $$$ for the new uniforms and eventually the camping equipment. That would not be good. Not good at all... for Bear.