TIPS FOR SURVIVING TEENS

I couldn't just leave you hanging after my last post! Here are some tips for surviving teenagers:

Check your pillows. Make sure they are strong enough to survive a good bashing and dense enough to muffle your screams.

Stock up on junk food. Yes, I know, you want them to eat healthily, but forget it, you're wasting your time. Buy pizzas, those disgusting noodle packages, and as many frozen dinners as you can afford.

Check your microwave. It is the only kitchen tool that teenagers will use.

Take out a second mortgage. You're going to need it.

Toughen up your tongue. Chew it for at least an hour a day until it has the texture of rhinoceros skin. This will come in handy when they bring a new boyfriend/girlfriend home. If you keep quiet about the green-haired, tattooed, multi-piereced monstrosity they think is God incarnate, they'll soon get bored and wander off to someone a bit more human. Dare to voice your objections and you'll be stuck with the monstrosity for a long, long time.

Join a prenatal class. The deep breathing exercises are helpful in times of immense stress...pretty much 24/7. Alternatively, buy a crate of good wine.

Remember, at all times, that they really can't help being so loud/selfish/argumentative/unreasonable/thoughtless - it's just a phase they're going through and their hormones are raging. It'll only last oh, 4 years or so.

Keep photographs of their young, innocent faces handy to remind you of what they used to be like. Try not to cry over them too much.

Don't bother arguing with them. You'll never win. Teenagers are totally without logic.

Warn the neighbors about the increased noise levels - both from the screaming matches and from the volume of their music. (Well, they call is music. I call it 'Sounds from the Edge of Hell.')

Whatever you do, don't laugh at their choice of clothing, hair, etc. Remember what you wore in the 80's...say no more.

Don't expect any help whatsoever. They don't do vacuuming, dishes, or ironing, and they don't have a clue what the washing machine is for.

NEVER expect gratitude. You've kitted out their bedrooms with every state-of-the-art technology conceivable to man, spent hundreds of dollars on gas driving them places and scrimped for months to buy that expensive pair of board shoes, but they'll still believe your asking too much when you dare suggest they put out the trash.

Once they've reached oh-my-God-haven't-they-grown proportions, buy a step stool for those moments when you need to give them a swift cuff around the back of the head. Buy old copies of Land of the Giants to pick up tips on how to cope.

3 o'clock in the morning is a perfectly acceptable time for teenagers to go to bed during the week. Don't even question this.

Your eloquent child will turn monosyllabic overnight. Expect only grunts and dirty looks for at least the next two years.

Teenagers don't sleep, they hibernate - draped over the kitchen table or spread out like a starfish in the middle of the livingroom. You have more chance of finding the Loch Ness Monster in your pool than arousing a teenager from bed in the morning...or afternoon.

Remind yourself that teenagers are retribution for what we did to our parents, so just accept the inevitable and keep dreaming of peaceful times (when they've left home and you sit sobbing that you miss them!!)

BRACE YOURSELF!

Ah, the wonderful world of teenagers! I remember myself as a teen, so easy-going and amenable. My parents on the other hand were just a teeny bit uptight. Not to mention that they TOTALLY didn't get me (insert eye roll).

Fast forward 25 years and here I am...it's Freaky Friday...and I'm suddenly the parent of two teenagers. Two teenagers who are nothing like my sweet self at the same age. I see those of you with teens nodding wildly but for those of you without teens, please let me shed a little light. Nothing will prepare you for teenagers. Nothing. Brace yourself! You think childbirth was hard? Given the choice, I would be wheeled back into the delivery room sans medication if it meant expediting them to adulthood.

Not all teenagers are created equally however. One of mine is quite mellow but the other is simply apoplectic. Perhaps the younger one has just not found his stride. The older one however...oi! I'm not sure what the magic number was, but one day my child that was straight out of a fabric softener commercial suddenly had the starring role in The Exorcist.

Now everything I have read assures me that there is a perfectly scientific explanation for all of this. It's hormones and their rapidly changing brain the experts effuse. Eureka!! Thank goodness there is a logical explanation. I felt so frustrated before I knew. Yeah, okay. Truth is, I don't give a rat's hiney what the logic is, I'm ready to starting mashing elephant tranquilizers into his food.

I've always prided myself on not being "that mom." You know the one that needs to kick and scream to get their children to listen. No siree. That wasn't me, because I had it all figured out. Ha! Now I resemble Momzilla ranting and raving and pulling my hair out. It was so much easier when you could take the computer away for an evening as punishment. Now I stare as this 6'5" man in front of me and think, what now?

Don't get me wrong. My teenagers are awesome. They don't get into any trouble beyond the ordinary teenage hijinx but those hijinx are enough to keep Loreal's hair color division in business for a very long time.

Everyone tells me to hang in there. Don't give up. Things will get better. I hang on to those words like a Cuban to a floating door. I look forward to the day when he can look at me without complete irritation and disdain. I know it's coming. I remember when I actually enjoyed spending time with my parents again.

I guess the thing I've learned the most from all of this, is that I love my parents for everything they have done for me. I mean REALLY love them. If they could love me and support me while my heading was spinning and I was puking pea soup all over them, they must be pretty darn special.

CURSING IS GOOD FOR YOU!

For years, my potty mouth as been a bone of contention between Jay and I. "You sound like a longshoreman," states Jay with annoyance. "Are you fucking kidding me? There isn't a longshoreman alive with a mouth as bad as mine," I reply. I think I'm hilarious. He so does not. In fact, it's the thing he likes the least about me, this potty mouth of mine.

It's not my fault. I can't help it. It's a bad habit. My favorite excuses. The truth is, I enjoy swearing and let's face it, there are times when nothing else will do. I wish I could exclaim, "Crumbs!" or "Darn!" when things go awry but I'm not cut from that cloth.

So imagine my glee when I read that swearing is good for you! It turns out that a potty mouth does more than earn your conversations an R rating: it actually relieves pain according to a new study. The study states that swearing has an analgesic, pain-lessening effect that could give Ibuprofen a run for its money. Somebody give these guys an award!! Of course, I knew this all along. I mean I always feel better after I've cursed a blue streak. Always!

Alas, this is great news for those of us who have no intention of changing our ways. So let's fucking celebrate, bitches!! (Sorry hon, but my headache is instantly gone!)

BEFORE I WAS A MOM

How do you explain what being a mother is like to someone who has never had kids? The following poem does one heck of a job summing up how I feel. The author is unknown, which it too bad because I would love to give her a big hug for capturing it so well!

Before I was a mom.
I made and ate hot meals.
I had unstained clothing.
I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a mom,
I slept as late as I wanted
And never worried about how late I got into bed.
I brushed my hair and teeth everyday.

Before I was a mom
I cleaned my house each day.
I never tripped over toys or forgot words of lullabies.

Before I was a mom
I had never been puked on
Pooped on
Spit on
Chewed on
Peed on
Or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a mom
I had complete control of:
My thoughts
My body
And my mind.
I slept all night.

Before I was a mom
I never held down a screaming child
So that doctors could do tests
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a mom
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put him down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces
When I couldn't stop the hurt.

I never knew that something so small
Could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew that I would love being a mom.

Before I was a mom
I didn't know that feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn't know that something so small
Could make me feel so important.

Before I was a mom
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night
Every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth
The joy
The love
The heartache
The wonder
Or the satisfaction of being a mom.

I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a mom.

I'm a lucky, lucky lady.

NO!

No - adverb (a negative used to express disent, denial or refusal, as in response to a question or request)

Can you bake five dozen cupcakes for the bake sale tomorrow? Would you like to help organize our cancer walk? Will you please make a hundred wedding invitations for my third cousin? Absolutely! I'd love too! No problem!

What is wrong with me? Why does the word no evade me so? The answer isn't what you think.

You're a people pleaser many reply. So I turn to the internet for answers. It turns out that people pleasers are "desperate people" who want "everyone to like them." Well, anyone who has seen me drive knows that this is simply not true.

Perhaps I just have an altruistic desire to make a difference in the world. I believe that each of us is responsible for leaving the world a little better than we found it. I mean, if us so-called people pleasers don't step up to the plate, who will? Lord knows, this beautiful planet does not need any more selfish people. If I can touch a life in some way I will. Those cupcakes are going to help build the playground that hundreds of little kids will use every day!! How can I say no to that?

So I'm here to tell you that I'm not crazy, desperate, or afraid (no snickering!). I just enjoy making a difference. I realize that giving really touches a chord deep within all of us. Helping others brings good feelings to both the giver and the receiver and using your special gifts to help others makes you feel more connected to yourself and to the world around you. So go ahead, say yes. You can do it!

TOASTED COCONUT 8.0

Doing a fun quiz recently, the question of hair color arose. I didn't know which hair color I should choose: Sunflower gold of the 70's? Mousey brown of the 80's? Multi-colored, ever-changing hair of the 90's? Snow white hair from the last decade dyed blonde monthly? Our hair tells us a lot about ourselves and what we were going through at a certain time in history. Whether is was grown long in protest, cut short in liberation or spiral permed within in a inch of its life to meet the latest fashion trend. Each and every stage was marked by our hair.

Over the last 30 years my hair has been dyed, permed, feathered, back-combed, curled, bobbed, twisted, pinned, and hair sprayed until it's been left gasping. Its either been my crowning glory or my worst nightmare. I've bounced from the salon with perfectly cut hair feeling so happy and slinked from the salon with the worst perm ever thinking surely I would die. Do we give our hair too much power? After all, it's just hair is it not? Well, it's more than that. It's an extension of ourselves. A form of expression.

So, you're probably wondering what the answer to the question was. The answer is Toasted Coconut 8.0...multi tonal and fabulous!

TOO BUSY TO BLOG

I've been asked many times why I haven't updated my blog recently and my response it always the same, "I'm too busy!" Of course, that's the truth...sort of. The bottom line is that I'm a perfectionist. I agonize over the contents of each post before I actually hit the "publish post" button. That's why it's time consuming. The writing of each post takes mere minutes while the editing and sweating seem to take forever. Why is this?

When I was young I loved to write, and I did so with reckless abandon. No subject was off limits, no assignment too daunting! English was my favorite subject and I excelled. Such confidence!! I'm not sure when this confidence began to subside. Perhaps it was the 20+ year break from writing creatively that has led me here.

So enough perfectionism (which is basically like saying, enough air!), I'm going to blog!