Saturday, April 4, 2009

How to drive your mother insane, otherwise known as being a teenager

Anybody have a teenager or two at home? Want mine? I had to take the two of them shopping for shoes today. Not fun.

One of them doesn't really need new shoes. She just wants them. She wants to buy every shoe she tries on, but alas, has no cash. The other has cash, but doesn't want to part with any of it. He also hates every shoe made, every style made, every material they're made from, every color they make, on and on, ad nauseum. He, however, needed new shoes. He'll tell you he doesn't but I know better. I've seen his shoes and they should be given to men wearing hazardous material suits.

Three hours of my life was given to this pursuit. Three hours that I could have been knitting, or shopping for shoes for myself. Three hours I could have spent spring cleaning or something else equally pleasurable. [Did I really just write that?]

End result? Three hours lost, two pairs of shoes bought for her, one mother vowing never to take them shopping again, zero shoes bought for him. Ugh.

I'll be going out again tomorrow.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Sighin' and cryin'

I have a friend I've known since kindergarten, and for anyone who knows me, that was quite a while ago. Pooh. She has three boys, the youngest one about ten years younger than the middle one. We decided the other night that he's her "do-over". She gets to do motherhood again, knowing all the stuff she learned the first time around. As we were talking about that, I started thinking about my own kids and what kind of mom I've been. A good one, I hope. I think so. They might tell you different, depending on what kind of trouble they've gotten themselves into. But it made me think about time passing, boo-hoo, and I started to look at old pics of my kids and how much they've grown and I noticed something. I have a lot of pictures of the the two of them actually laughing with each other. They like each other. That warms my heart.

I've always wondered if my kids will be friends when they become adults. My sissy is one of my best friends. We hang out together a lot. We laugh and cry. We get mad but we make up. We share. We have fun. When I look at these pics, I hope they do all these things too. Except the crying part. I don't think my son will do that.

Of course, after I started looking at these pics, I got weepy because time went by way too fast. They grew up. They got big. They don't fit on my lap anymore and I can't cuddle them. I need to stop looking at these pics.

Now my oldest is getting ready for college and my youngest will follow him a few years later. We still have some time with her. Maybe I can teach her more things. Like how to become friends with sales clerks so they tell you when the sales come out. Or why you don't want to upset your mother since she's holding the purse strings when you shop together. Important things like that.

Goodbye childhood. It was nice to know you.