Archive for the ‘Adolescence’ Category

It was a BIG WEEKEND here at Casa de Lessa, folks, dominated by the PreTeen and her cousins and the Big Swim Meet in Soldotna. Oh yes, there was kids to wake up early, early, the buglet to be dropped off here with Peppermist, the others to get to the pool, dressed in swim gear and on deck by 9am for warm-ups for the meet to start at 10:15.

That’s stupid early for a Saturday, ya’ll.

But there we were, our collective four kids on deck, on time, with our spot in the bleachers staked out, programs and highlighters and cameras and sharpies in hand – the later gets a real workout, see the picture to the left, ready for five hours of cheering on The Pup, Ladybug, Bug, Dman and all their teammates. (Why yes, I am the crazy cheering mom. Why do you ask?)

It was an especially nervewracking day for the pup, as she had decided to swim a brand new event: The 100yd Individual medly. She knows all the strokes, of course, but there’s the ORDER to remember, and TWO HAND WALL TOUCHES, and DON’T DQ and OMG MOM I’M SO NERVOUS! Peppermist, loving big sister that she is, told the pup an “easy” way to remember the stroke order: just remember that you can BUTTER the BACK of your BREASTs, FREEly. This, naturally, spread through the team like wildfire, and MUCH laughter resulted – including laughter DURING THE BACKSTROKE LEG by the pup AS SHE SWAM.

INORITE?

All our kids had a VERY successful meet, though. Not only did the Pup swim that IM, but it got her her very first DUCKY! The winner of each heat gets a little rubber ducky as a prize, and the pup has been sure she’d NEVER win one – and then she did! VERY happy Pup – in fact, they handed it to her, she looked up to find us in the stands and held that ducky high in the air as we all cheered VERY LOUDLY for her. She could have fallen off the blocks in every race thereafter and not cared. She had a Ducky. A PRINCESS ducky, even, with a PURPLE crown.

She didn’t fall off the blocks though – in fact, she pulled out a 3rd place heat finish and a 2nd place heat finish as well, and improved on all of her times. The Ladybug swam her first 50yd Freestyle (She’s a wee bit of a thing, and usually swims 25s) AND she also won a ducky for herself! All Bug’s hard work paid off and he got to swim the Freestyle relay with the BIG BOYS – including his teammate who recently got the chance to swim with Michael Phelps. There is no SMALL amount of hero worship going on THERE, I’ll tell ya!

And then, Dman, my 13 year old nephew, he tells me “I’m never gonna win a ducky, you know.” I, of course, reminded him that the Pup felt the very same way and today was her day. His day was coming. NOT TEN MINUTES LATER – GUESS WHAT HE DID? That’s right, Dman came away from the pool with his very first Ducky too!

And in between it all, there was Dman and his Girlfriend, who also happens to be the Coach’s daughter. There’s nothing quite as fun as teasing two thirteen year olds as they follow each other around the pool. There were a lot of “Remember! 6inchs of light between you!” and nudges and winks, and chuckling. And then? We spotted them waaaaaaaaaaay across the pool, sitting in folding chairs under the yellow sign, waiting for Dman’s next event. I looked at Mama, and Nana, because I saw them first.

Me: That’s NOT 6 inches…
Mama: oooooooh HELL NAW.
Nana: BUSTED!

So we yelled the girls name across the pool, to get her attention – we knew Dman would just ignore us, and she’d answer – and followed it by “THAT’S NOT 6 INCHES!” complete with gestures demonstrating the proper distance between them, and were rewarded by them jumping apart, BRIGHT RED BLUSHING, and looks that could kill.

God, I love teenagers!

Needless to say, we spent the weekend pretty well pumped. The Boy even showered the Pup with affection and attention, and took her out to breakfast Sunday morning to celebrate. If you’d like to see the Pup – here’s her video of all her events. Note that she beat that girl for her ducky by a FULL POOL LENGTH. Yeaaaaaaaaaah, baby! Way to do it in STYLE, baby girl!

So how was YOUR weekend?

TGIF – because if it weren’t for it being Friday I’d be all ready to give up!

You see, my darling baby boy (Yeah, the one that’s a foot taller than me – what’s your point?) came home the other day flinging things and searching under and growling and muttering under his breath. It seems that when he was at the local superstore, he changed in the bathroom out of his work clothes – and apparently left his wallet sitting on the sink.

…

He realizes this a full 24 hours later, chaos ensues, and lo and behold -no wallet. So, we hit the bank right away to cancel his bank card, and then checked the lost and found and with the desk, and no one had turned it in. He had receipts and stuff in there that were pretty important, but mostly it was his bank card and his license. Which meant he couldn’t drive out to his buddies house that night, because with HIS luck, he’d get stopped. Not good. Unhappy boy.

So I calmed him down, and today, we head to the DMV when he got home from school. He woke me up (I tend to sleep in the mornings after they go to school – specially after being unable to sleep the night before, actually getting UP and starting a pot o’beans n ham at 5:30 am!) – and then nagged and rushed until I headed out the door to the DMV – his favorite place in the whole world.

Not.

I fill out the paperwork, and settle in to wait. It was less than 10 minutes, so I was like SCORE – we’re gonna get out of here fast! And then she asked for an alternative ID for my son and I realize… it’s still sitting on my desk.

Oy.
Supermom FAIL.

So I call Auntie, she says she’ll grab it and bring it to us, but she had to finish what she was doing, and then she picked up Peppermist and the dog, and then the dog got out, and then she finally got to the DMV and the dog got out AGAIN and we had to chase him down, and then! Finally! an hour after we started to do something simple…

Success! Replacement License procured!

Only for me to have to tell him he can’t have the car overnight because his little sister has a Swim Meet tomorrow and I need the car. Some days, I just can’t win.

At least we still have ham’n'beans still a slow cookin – and it smells FANTASTIC. Redemption approaches…

So, my son, while he was still driving my car a couple days ago (His truck is fixed now, WHEEE! Well, mostly. It was making an odd noise when the Boy left for work… anyway) I got this GIDDY call from my sister.

Her: I’m TELLIN!
Me:…tellin what? (damn, what did I do?
Her: Did your son call you?
Me: …. nooooooooo (oh shit, what did HE do now…)
Her: he just called Uncle to pull him out of the DITCH!
Me: ….in MY CAR?

So yes. The boy had gone around the corner, and in his typical fashion (I imagine) was “drifting” (though I’ve TOLD him that drifting is done on PAVEMENT not snow – what they do is SLIDING) and put himself in the ditch. At least, that’s what I assumed. I also figured that he wouldn’t call and fess up, because his daddy? NEVER would have.

He surprised me.

Boy: So… has your car been in the ditch yet?
Me: Not while I’VE been driving it..
Boy: CRAP. Auntie tattled, didn’t she.
Me; Oh yes she did.

Now, the boy’s story is this: He was minding his own business, driving down the middle of the road and SUDDENLY AND HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW OR WHY he was in the ditch, and unable to get out, even with my 4×4.

Umhm. He still sticking to the story too. Uncle pulled him out, he got to work on time, and I forgot about it really, until Auntie and I went shopping together today and I went and picked her up. And she pointed out the tire tracks. Now, I’m not gonna continue to tell the boy that _I_ think he was “drifting” and slid too far, because he knows. However, I WILL give you the following evidence and let you decide yourself.

Observe:

Now, sure. SOME of those tracks are from the Truck that pulled him out. HOWEVER, please note the width of the road:

Ummmmmmmmhmmmmmm.
I rest my case.

You, my darling son, can tell me whatever ya like – but you been BUSTED.

You know, I’m working really really REALLY HARD to not realize that he’s graduating in May, that he turns 18 in March, that he’s Practically A Grown Up and my parental control will not be near as controlling as I’d like it to be for my little boy forever and ever amen. I’m TRYING to put blinders on – but OH NO. He has to go and do things like… oh, brandish his new Class Ring all over the place.

Harumph.

It came in the mail last week, and the boy couldn’t be more pleased! Even so, I love how the photo of his hand describes so many things about my son. For example:

1. His hands are HUGE. They swallow mine, and I have big hands for a girl!

2. His hand is DIRTY. Dude. Could you BE more of a boy? Wash your hands!

3. He’s cracked his knuckle there on something, and in typical boy fashion, keeps picking at it. Srsly Boy? Gross. And also? WASH YOUR HANDS.

4. Look at all the nicks and scars – this boy is CLUMSY. Usually with sharp and pointy things.

5. Those hands are not just large, but strong, just as strong as the heart and mind of my PRESHUSH BEBE BOY. They are hands that he uses to help up a friend in need, hands he uses to help make something work that was broken, hands he uses to defend his friends, hands he uses to protect his sisters, hands he uses to console his poor mama who’s not handling this growing up thing very well.

Sigh. This growing up stuff sucks.

On the previous posts, we talked a little about huffing. While that’s not detectable via any drug test, if you’re worried about other types of drug use, there is an at home testing system that you can use.

This of course, brings up the issues of teenagers and privacy again – but there is another side to it. If you’re child is feeling pressured to try things he’s not ready for, or shouldn’t do ever anyway, sometimes even if they HATE it, being able to say “No way, my mom TESTS me for that crap” is an easier way to say no. And I’m all for giving our kids every possible advantage.

If you’re interested in more details, check it out here!

When we had The Boy, I was momentarily terrified. I mean, I had a sister, no brothers, my mother was a sister, no brothers, my dad raised daughters, and well, who knew how to raise a BOY? And more importantly, how do we raise a BOY who is sensitive enough that all the girls (and their mama’s and papa’s) will be pleased to know him, but who can also kick as when he needed too? I mean, I WAS a girl. Girls I understand. (and, sorta, ya know, fear. haha.) But a BOY?

Fortunately, as my kids are fond of saying, I have the mind of a 16 year old boy, and I think we’ve managed to do pretty well in the past almost 18 years. The boy is strong, sensitive, knows when to fight, when to back down, and most importantly, treats the girls he knows (aside from his sisters, of course) with the utmost respect. They turn to him as the best friend, the one with the strong shoulders, the one they can talk too, who will respect them and not ask for anything in return.

This of course means he doesn’t have a girlfriend – but as I keep telling him, girls marry their best friends, not the asshole badboys. So hang in there, your time is coming…

So how did it come about? There were a few times of disagreement with my husband, but the one thing he ALWAYS insisted on was that The boy never hit a girl. Ever. He and I even fought over that a bit, because I was of the mind that if a girl hauled off and punched him in the face, she kinda deserved what she dished out. Heh. We compromised by teaching the Boy that to hold her so she CANT hit him again is ok. Then it never ever came up, so we didn’t have to worry – because he IS so sweet to his feminine counterparts.

My dad always said that in raising boys, you only had to worry about “one prick in town” but to raise girls was to worry of “every prick in town!” and I’m pleased as all get out to know that the boy is someone parents are pleased to know, that parents trust with their daughters, because he cares for them and takes care of them too. The boy even hugs his mama in public and still tells me that he loves me every single day – even in front of his friends.

So what advice to I have for the raising of boys?
Let them explore. They’re going to do stupid shit – things we think are dangerous, but that’s how boys learn not to do that again (or to do it differently). Remind them that no matter WHAT they do, you’ll be there to pick them up, so that when someone else does something stupid, they’ll be there to do the same. Teach them to respect women, teach him to defend them, and to defend himself. Teach your sons to listen, to think before they act, that it’s not a bad thing to have feelings, and to question why. Sounds lofty, huh? How do you do that?

Lead by example.
It’s really that simple.

Now go hug your boy, and ask him how his day was, huh?

Raising girls is a scary scenario for many folks. Girls are moody and unpredictable and prone to self esteem issues and have to fight for careers and equal pay and face the huge dilemma of family vs. career and have to figure out how to juggle that, all while remaining supportive and happy and strong for their families. That’s a LOT of pressure to put on a girl, you know? Add to that the casual sexualization, the images in the media that focus on perfection (of an air brushed quality, of course!) and we find ourselves juggling what we see in print and on screen and what real girls look and feel like.

It’s a daunting task for a parent!

A while back Dove made a commercial filled with women of all shapes, sizes, and colors, naked (tastefully) and – most importantly – smiling. These women were (and are!) each beautiful, and comfortable in their own skin, despite a little extra curve there, a wrinkle here, a pouch over there. As a lover of women all shapes and sizes, the commercial made me smile every time I viewed it.

Since then, Dove has expanded their Campaign for Real Beauty into a feature rich site and resource to encourage healthy self-esteem for our girls! There is SO MUCH there in the ‘Just for Girls‘ section, including the True You booklet for mom’s and daughters, which goes through the mother/daughter relationship and how communication is the key.

You know what I ALWAYS say around here – TALK TO YOUR KIDS! This is no different, Dove Agrees. Here are some statistics that are important for us to know about our girls:

One-half of women around the world see family relationships as
having the greatest impact on their self-esteem.*
• Two-thirds of women believe that they are expected to be more
physically attractive than their mother’s generation.*
• Dissatisfaction with body image increases as girls progress to
adolescence. While 75% of girls 8-9 years old say they like the
way they look, only 56% of girls 12-13 years old feel that way.**
• One-third of all girls 14-17 years old think they are overweight,
and 60% are trying to lose weight.**
• Over 50% of girls 11-15 years old say that their mother helps
them the most when they have a problem.***

* Dove’s Real Truth About Beauty Study
** Girl Scout Research Institute – Teens Before Their Time, 2000
***Girl Scout Research Institute – The Ten Emerging Truths: New Directions for Girls 11-17, 2002

There are a ton of resources there to be had – including quizzes for your girls to take on the health of their relationships with their friends and family, body facts and fiction, how their self-esteem affects other people, how to help their confidence grow, and many more. I encourage you to check it out, and then show it to your girls! Healthy self-esteem starts at home, and Dove has some great tools to help us get there.

Check it out today!

When I was a teenager – you know, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth – my dad used to have a grand ole time frightening the hell out of the guys I would date. He’d like to say that my not dating very much as a teen was a direct result of that, when actually I’ve always been the ‘long relationship’ kinda girl. When I got my first boyfriend, just a few weeks before my fifteenth birthday, my dad finally had a chance to make good on his threats. When Jimmy first came to our house, and every time thereafter (I wasn’t technically allowed to date until I was 18, so “dating” involved his coming to my house, and meeting at parent sanctioned youth group activities.), my dad was seen sitting on the couch, working his way through sharpening every knife in the house – pocket knives to carving knives. He bought a special sharpening set that involved three different stones, and to this day I can still hear the shhhhhhhhhhhht shhhhhhhhhhhht shhhhhhhhhhhht of them honing the edges of perfect blades. Jimmy, who apparently had bigger balls that we realized, eventually offered my dad HIS pocket knife and asked him to teach him how to sharpen it.

By the time I began dating the man who became my husband, my sister had been dating for some time, and dad had graduated from the knives, to cleaning the guns. My husbands favorite story involved the fact that he showed my dad HIS guns FIRST – thus beginning what was to be a life long friendship, between the two of them.

Now, my dad never overtly, obviously, so much in words THREATENED my boyfriends, but he did enjoy making them nervous, and letting them know that he demanded respect for his daughters, and he wouldn’t be shy about getting it. My husband looked forward to doing the same for our daughters, and since his passing, my son has threatened to do so in his honor, much to Peppermist’s dismay. (And don’t think Papa won’t be helping – he will!)

Mostly, it was in good fun, where the boys knew where they stood (slightly above a cockroach, as long as they kept their hands to themselves and treated us respectfully) and the boys even got a good chuckle out of it, once they were able to face dad without turning white and trembling. It was a great conversation starter (for my dad, though he never had to SAY anything) and something we’ve always laughed about. But something tells me the man in Apopka Florida didn’t get the memo that threats by dads/step-dads were supposed to be somewhat sort of tongue in cheek, but not actually CARRIED OUT.

Wade Edwards, upon finding his step-daughter having sex with her boyfriend in his house, closed the door grabbed his gun, and not only chased Julian Harp from the house yelling at him – but shot him. Four times.

Shot him.
Four times.

Neighbors commented that they felt Edwards may have “overreacted” but understood that he just wanted to protect his daughter. May have overreacted? He SHOT HIM FOUR TIMES.

Look, I get it, you want to protect your kids – we all do. You don’t want them having sex until they’re older – that would be optimal. But you have GOT to realize that some things are just going way too far. The daughter wasn’t being attacked, she’d invited her boyfriend into the room for the express purpose of banging him. Then the stepfather tried to say that it was self defense, that Harp jumped out at him, so he shot him – from behind him as Harp ran away. Uh huh.

So – let’s break this down for those who should know better, just in case it REALLY needs to be said (and really, if it does? I worry about you people!)

Making threats as to what you will do to your daughter’s boyfriends = a right of passage.
Actually shooting said boyfriend for banging your daughter, even if it’s in your house = felony.

We clear? Good. Consider this your Tuesday PSA.

As I’m sure ya’ll have figured out by now – I’m very much a pro-express yourself kinda gal. I dig piercings, tattoos and body modification, and find the extremes weirdly fascinating. I dig people who know what they like, and have the inner strength to do as they please with their bodies as canvas, and even their dress code. I’ve always been a BIG supporter of allowing teenagers to express themselves through various means – hair color, mode of dress, etc. – with just one rule: Keep it tasteful, beware the slut factor, and for the love of all things holy, son, please pull up your pants so I don’t have to see your crack.

Not all parents/adults are as tolerant as I am, and that’s come to a head at the North Cobb High School in Georgia. Jonathan Escobar recently transferred after moving in with his sister. His preferred mode of dress includes skinny jeans, women’s flats, make-up, and wigs. He was told by school officials last week to either dress more “manly” or choose home schooling, citing the dress code rule with prohibits attire that is “disruptive to school activities.” It seems that the pink wig on day three is what was deemed too over-the-top, after a group of students surrounded Escobar in the lunchroom.

Now, I’m not against having a dress code at any school – my kids school has one, and I went through years of an extremely strict dress code (including uniforms!) at private schools. My kids aren’t to wear shirts with sayings that are deemed vulgar, there are no ‘belly shirts’ or sleeveless wear, etc. Other than that, the floor is pretty much open to dress as you please. We have everything from uber-fashionable, to goth to hippie to jock, you name it. It can all be found within those guidelines. I’m not sure how my town would react to someone with Escobar’s flair for fashion, though. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure they’d fall in line with the Georgia School Board – and that bugs me.

You see, one of my BIGGEST pet peeves is double standards. I’m a BIG believer in what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Don’t tell me it’s ok for a boy to do something, but not a girl, or vice versa because I WILL say something about it. Which leads me to this question: are they telling the girls to dress more “feminine” if they come to school in jeans and a football jersey? Or with combat boots and a men’s button down and tie? By the commenters on the article that have attended Cobb High, or know of it – they are not stopping goth attire, or any other mode of fashion expression which makes this a case of intolerance simply because a boy enjoys vintage female clothing and makeup.

He wasn’t wearing a skirt or a dress. For the three days he attended Cobb High School, he wore skinny jeans and vintage tops, a wig and flats. He wasn’t wearing high heels, a flamboyant wig that was 3 feet high, he wasn’t dressed to the nines as the ultra drag queen. He is a boy, in skinny jeans. His mode of dress is well in line with the clothing guidelines of the school -thus it’s REALLY only an issue because he’s a boy, and they don’t find him man enough.

Jonathan clearly understands that there will be bullying. He is willing to stand up to that, which shows an inner strength that few teenagers show. He’s willing to stand against the prejudices of others, to wear his skinny jeans. Why not use this as an occasion to teach tolerance and acceptance? Why not use this as a lesson in accepting your friends the way they are?

Some say it’s not their job to teach tolerance, it should be taught at home. I agree with you – however, you know it’s not being done in some circles. While it’s not your job to parent, it’s your job to TEACH, and when a situation presents itself, you are doing yourself a disservice if you let it slide by without addressing it.

Face it – in a week, the novelty would have worn off, no one would think twice about what the kid wears. Adults, as a general rule, don’t give teenagers much credit, and their often far more open and accepting than we think they will be. Why not give them the chance to prove it?

This past weekend something happened to really solidify that yes, my son is a senior. In HIGH SCHOOL. Now, I’m not sure which one of you allowed this to happen, but it is simply NOT OK for him to be this old, for him to be looking forward to what to do “after I graduate”, for him to say things like “apartment, rent, job” and mean things that don’t include mom!

It’s. Not. OK!

This past weekend a good friend of mine who happens to be a photographer as well (and a darn good one!) got together with my son for his senior pictures. Now, The Boy HATES getting his pictures taken, so the fact that he willingly did so for me was a sign of this maturity thing I’m still not quite used too. It helped that it was a friend of ours, too. It made The Boy more comfortable, and Todd even made a special trip here to the house to take some additional pictures with The Boy and The Beast.

Then, this weekend, all my kids were away, staying with friends. It’s not often that all three are gone at once, and it was so… so… so… quiet. Is THIS what I have to look forward too? No one bickering with the other, no one calling MOOOOOOOOOOOM, no one bitching about there being nothing to eat, no one else to untangle the dog when he wraps himself around the tree for the 2243295417230129 time, no one to ask for ice cream when I go to the store, no one else for the animals to sleep with so I end up with all three cats and the dog in bed with me, no one to fight over the computer, all. the. quiet…?

(Wait – did I say I WASN’T ready for this? Lemme re-think this…)

Oh, and no one to growl at me in the morning, or crawl into my arms for a morning hug? (And yes, I still get hugs from my son, too! The one who’s GRADUATING – often in PUBLIC!)

Yeah. I’m so not ready for this. The boy seems to sense this (it could be my repeatedly calling him MAH BABY! and telling him he’s cute and pinching his widddle cheeks), and on Friday night before going to his friends, told me to stop working, put everything away, and get in the car – he was taking me to dinner. We headed to his new favorite pizza joint, and since it was Friday night and they were way busy, we put in our order and just bummed around for the hour and a half it took for them to fill it. We walked around the corner to Blockbuster and picked out some movies – but mostly? We just sat around and talked. And laughed. And played paper football. And picked on each other. And picked on the pizza place dudes – who told him that the next time he came in with his mom, they’d give him a discount. When they laughingly told me that meant he’d HAVE to spend time with me, he threw his arms around me and said “That’s fine by me, I love spending time with my mom! She’s awesome, can’t you tell?”

You know, I did something RIGHT with that boy. It’s always nice to realize that now that he’s almost all grown up, and of course I’ll always love him – I also genuinely LIKE him too. He’s quite the kid, and I am SO proud to call him my son.

Maybe I can convince him to just pay rent and stay at home… just a little longer…