The Queen Who Lost Her Crown
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With three teenagers and one high-maintenance 11-year old in the house I'd be crazy to think I'M in charge.
Can anyone tell me how I became so uncool? I mean, I'm a really hip chick for 39- I know who all the current designers are and I even own a few pairs of 'cool' jeans, so why do I feel like June Cleaver? I think it's Camille's fault - my 17-year old gorgeous bouncy blond cheerleader who weighs under 100 lbs. and is adored by everyone. I'm pretty sure the only thing she inherited from me is PMS. It's the reality she is a SENIOR in high school hitting me SMACK! in the crow's feet that finally made me FEEL old. Not my 20th high school reunion or my husband's neices getting married and having babies. Realizing she'll be 18 in under six months makes me want to dig in the sides of my SKIS, skid to a stop (spraying snow on my intimidating next birthday) and Daffy Duck it, back up the mountain.
Above diatribe aside, I'm really not DREADING my 40th birthday. Reaching it beats the alternative, right? Plus, by my 40th birthday (barring any tragedies) I'll still have 4 healthy, intelligent children and a healthy, intelligent (contrary to what you may hear in later rants) husband. Turning 40 isn't going to change any of that or who I am. I'm hoping by then our basement will be fully restored to its pre-Christmas Eve-flood state or better, to weigh a little bit less and to be a lot smarter. I don't think that's asking too much!
Dave is my husband of 18.5 (yes, that .5 IS important) years. He's pretty nice most of the time, and a handy guy. He's the one in charge of fixing up the basement- his current project is to lay 493 sqare feet of tile in the hall and laundry room. This is when he gets nagged the most, although I still claim I'm NOT a nag. Nagging doesn't do any good with Dave since he's passive-aggressive. A Carpenter with A.D.D. (building yachts) by day, fixing our basement by night doesn't provide much variety but I'm certain he'll live through it as long as he gets it done.
I have a 15 1/2-year old attention-deficit technophile, Brayden, who is currently spending his every penny on components for his suped-up computer. I'm hoping the machine will cause him to pass English next semester. We gave up on traditional school with him and enrolled him in Washington's new ONLINE high school. We're hoping it's the perfect solution for our little Nerd. He has great brains and wit- he just lacks the attention span to make our expensive school district work to his benefit. I submit that teenage boys are blessed with a wicked sense of humor as a means to keep them alive. I can't count the number of times I've been ready to beat him severely about the head and neck and been reduced to laughing by his sharp wit.
Shane still has the early-teen potty humor going on. He'll be 13 in NINE days. I think that explains that. He's definitely the sweetest of my kids when he isn't torturing Chloe his 11-year old sister and baby of the family. He's the go-to guy- the one that does all his chores and most of mine without much complaint. One-tenth his energy is all I would need to run a marathon. He literally BOUNCES around the house. Logically, he is the skinniest one in the family- I believe he weighed in at 73 lbs. yesterday. That's probably exactly HALF what I weigh. He's really athletic- at 4'6" he's the goalie extraordinaire for the Thunderbolts. He doesn't have much vertical leap but his reflexes are amazing. He's also the most entrepeneurial of all of us. It's a real blessing because I'm counting on him supporting us during retirement. He promised to buy Brayden his very own house the other day so he wouldn't have to live with his parents or wealthy brother forever.
Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. She's the spoiled baby sister just like me. Drama is her middle name, which is appropriate because she aspires to television and movie stardom. Speaking of- I need to remember to find her an agent. All that talent for drama really ought to be directed by a professional. She's ADORABLE- she looks just like I did at her age (yeah, I was cute). At least once a week we hear, "You are SO CUTE! You look just like your Mom." If they look closely they'll notice she has a cute little booty and darling freckles on her nose while my booty is saggy at best and I have wrinkles instead of cute freckles. She's WAY more athletic than I ever was, though. She is one of the better players on her soccer team and is even trying water polo this summer.
I just got a call from Camille and realized one other thing she inherited from me. A complete LACK of sense of direction. We can't find our way out of a paper bag, to steal a phrase from my Mom. I'm thinking her high school graduation present will need to be a navigation system. Am I WAY out of style, or was her question of where to buy LEG WARMERS a little strange? There was my 3rd phone call from her asking which of the freeway interchanges to take to get to Wal-Mart.
Can anyone tell me how I became so uncool? I mean, I'm a really hip chick for 39- I know who all the current designers are and I even own a few pairs of 'cool' jeans, so why do I feel like June Cleaver? I think it's Camille's fault - my 17-year old gorgeous bouncy blond cheerleader who weighs under 100 lbs. and is adored by everyone. I'm pretty sure the only thing she inherited from me is PMS. It's the reality she is a SENIOR in high school hitting me SMACK! in the crow's feet that finally made me FEEL old. Not my 20th high school reunion or my husband's neices getting married and having babies. Realizing she'll be 18 in under six months makes me want to dig in the sides of my SKIS, skid to a stop (spraying snow on my intimidating next birthday) and Daffy Duck it, back up the mountain.
Above diatribe aside, I'm really not DREADING my 40th birthday. Reaching it beats the alternative, right? Plus, by my 40th birthday (barring any tragedies) I'll still have 4 healthy, intelligent children and a healthy, intelligent (contrary to what you may hear in later rants) husband. Turning 40 isn't going to change any of that or who I am. I'm hoping by then our basement will be fully restored to its pre-Christmas Eve-flood state or better, to weigh a little bit less and to be a lot smarter. I don't think that's asking too much!
Dave is my husband of 18.5 (yes, that .5 IS important) years. He's pretty nice most of the time, and a handy guy. He's the one in charge of fixing up the basement- his current project is to lay 493 sqare feet of tile in the hall and laundry room. This is when he gets nagged the most, although I still claim I'm NOT a nag. Nagging doesn't do any good with Dave since he's passive-aggressive. A Carpenter with A.D.D. (building yachts) by day, fixing our basement by night doesn't provide much variety but I'm certain he'll live through it as long as he gets it done.
I have a 15 1/2-year old attention-deficit technophile, Brayden, who is currently spending his every penny on components for his suped-up computer. I'm hoping the machine will cause him to pass English next semester. We gave up on traditional school with him and enrolled him in Washington's new ONLINE high school. We're hoping it's the perfect solution for our little Nerd. He has great brains and wit- he just lacks the attention span to make our expensive school district work to his benefit. I submit that teenage boys are blessed with a wicked sense of humor as a means to keep them alive. I can't count the number of times I've been ready to beat him severely about the head and neck and been reduced to laughing by his sharp wit.
Shane still has the early-teen potty humor going on. He'll be 13 in NINE days. I think that explains that. He's definitely the sweetest of my kids when he isn't torturing Chloe his 11-year old sister and baby of the family. He's the go-to guy- the one that does all his chores and most of mine without much complaint. One-tenth his energy is all I would need to run a marathon. He literally BOUNCES around the house. Logically, he is the skinniest one in the family- I believe he weighed in at 73 lbs. yesterday. That's probably exactly HALF what I weigh. He's really athletic- at 4'6" he's the goalie extraordinaire for the Thunderbolts. He doesn't have much vertical leap but his reflexes are amazing. He's also the most entrepeneurial of all of us. It's a real blessing because I'm counting on him supporting us during retirement. He promised to buy Brayden his very own house the other day so he wouldn't have to live with his parents or wealthy brother forever.
Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. She's the spoiled baby sister just like me. Drama is her middle name, which is appropriate because she aspires to television and movie stardom. Speaking of- I need to remember to find her an agent. All that talent for drama really ought to be directed by a professional. She's ADORABLE- she looks just like I did at her age (yeah, I was cute). At least once a week we hear, "You are SO CUTE! You look just like your Mom." If they look closely they'll notice she has a cute little booty and darling freckles on her nose while my booty is saggy at best and I have wrinkles instead of cute freckles. She's WAY more athletic than I ever was, though. She is one of the better players on her soccer team and is even trying water polo this summer.
I just got a call from Camille and realized one other thing she inherited from me. A complete LACK of sense of direction. We can't find our way out of a paper bag, to steal a phrase from my Mom. I'm thinking her high school graduation present will need to be a navigation system. Am I WAY out of style, or was her question of where to buy LEG WARMERS a little strange? There was my 3rd phone call from her asking which of the freeway interchanges to take to get to Wal-Mart.
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