Tag Archives: all-growed-up

Flowing Like a River

I woke up in tears today. My baby is growing up way too fast for my liking. Today she celebrates her 12th birthday. That’s in calendar years. If we were going by attitude and experience, she would be 40.

I’m also crying because I had forgotten that Eldest and Son would be going on an ROTC trip. So I shall be handling footie massages and facials and manicures for a bunch of squealing girls on my own. But it’s her day, and Little One is sure pulling her weight around the house, so I can’t complain too much.

Time flows like a river, as do tears of joy πŸ™‚


Diva on Hold

Like every woman, I have an inner diva. She is bedecked in baubles, and frilly frocks, and pretty shoes, all the time. Even in bed. This diva rarely comes out. Maybe once a year for the Holiday Ball, and perhaps on days when I am making a casserole for dinner and baking a cake for dessert. I do wear my pretty aprons and pretty shoes and pretty jewelry then. Ok, I wear pretty jewelry to do laundry. I seldom go out, so I have to wear it when I can. Some of you do it too, I bet.

The dream....

Anyway, I had to put The Diva on hold again. The first time was with Eldest. She needed a long evening gown with a “tail”, for a runway show. We searched high and low, and finally found a divine creation that fit her well. A divine creation by Badgley Mischka. Now, on my List of Things to Do Before I Dieβ„’, I have this at #53: own a gown by Badgley Mischka. But who gets one before I do?? Yeah, I let it go after a few months minutes.

I thought the designer stuff was over with, since Eldest is pretty good about keeping to off-the-rack and vintage stuff. But of course, I have three children. And this time, my son was in need. His orchestral attire consists of a black suit. Now, for some people this is easy peasy. But he is so tall and thin, I finally had to resort to going to a men’s store, where the suit and pants could be tailored to fit. We find one that is close enough to his size to need only a few alterations. A suit by Michael Kors.

It’s like the Universe was laughing at me.

But like any good mom, we do what’s best for our children. Designer clothing isn’t the norm for my kids, but sometimes one has to make exceptions. In both cases, I either had earned discounts or the item was on clearance, so that helped tremendously. Still, my wish for a Diva outing has to stay on hold for a while.

And the reality...

Besides, the Reality is soooo much more comfortable πŸ˜‰


Here I Go Again…

Time again for a birthday party. Yay, me…

This time, it’s for Little One. She is….more picky. At first, she wanted a zombie party, complete with a tombstone shaped cake. Two days later, she changed her mind. She wanted a masquerade party: costumes, masks, the works. Three days after that, she wanted a spa party sleepover. It’s crunch time, so I’m planning for the spa party. A sleepover spa party….

I shall be the manicurist and facial expert, and Eldest is slated to be the hair stylist and masseuse. Cucumbers will be sliced and cooled, ready to go on puffy eyes once I have applied a fruit masque. While that dries, I shall be giving each girl a quick manicure, while Eldest gives footsie massages to tired toes. And once all the gunk is washed off, we shall enjoy birthday cupcakes!!

In the morning, we shall be having pancakes, do some last minute pampering and hair styling, and then the girls will leave with their very own little spa kit. Thank goodness for Bath and Body Worksβ„’.

In the afternoon, I shall be breaking in my new wine glass πŸ˜‰


Unlucky Strikes

The best laid plans of mice and moms often fail.

Last night was the Homecoming game for Eldest and Son’s high school. We were getting ready to go, but the kitchen still had to be cleaned up. Eldest is in charge of washing the dishes, and as she was washing a glass, it slipped and broke, while she tried to catch it. The result?

My baby had a deep gash that required stitches, the first time in her young life. Four heart-wrenching stitches to her mom. But she took it all like a trooper, and even told the doctor that she would be able to get her own stitches out, because she has had experience doing it. Hubby has sure taught the kids the basics on first aid.

We missed Homecoming game, but there’s always Homecoming dance tonight!

And no, she won’t be washing dishes for a while!!

UPDATE!

Looks like The Real Dave needs a bandaid πŸ˜‰


First Day of School

The long awaited for day has finally arrived…

Kids dragging, mom herding, and all is right with the World!! Of course, soon enough they will begin with lists of supplies for each class (velcro and a hammer??), the itinerary for each activity, and of course, I plan to be more involved with AFJROTC this year. But for now, I shall enjoy the angst.

courtesy NY Post

I feel a little bad from taking enjoyment out of this. My sadness can be measured with an electron microscope, but I assure you, it’s there. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I was really, really happy.

I did a search for “ecstatic mom” and this came up. Eh, close enough πŸ˜‰


One More Week

That’s all that is left of Summer Vacation. The kids have been diligently getting their stuff ready for school, as well as doing their IB assignments, practicing their instruments, and in general, driving me up the wall with their last-minute demands for supplies/ books/ haircuts/ shoes/ fill-in-the-blank.

In the middle of this chaos, lays a island of calm, for I know once they go back to school, I am no longer a hostage to Disney, nor am I a taxidriver to malls unknown, nor am I the mediator for every single quibble.

I shall be back to my normal self. “Normal” is a relative term, I know, but in this case, totally applicable.

Back to normal!

So, for now I will try to imagine the bliss that is the first day of school, as I run around town getting last minute stuff accomplished.

Enjoy your coffee, my friends πŸ˜‰


Sibling Rivalry

I am a very proud mom. Both of my children in High School will be enrolled in the Air Force Junior ROTC this year. And up until yesterday, everything about that was simply perfect.

And then, Eldest came home, beaming from ear to ear. Usually that is a good sign. She is in a good mood, and is therefore more productive. In turn, I don’t have to deal with drama, or crankiness, or more drama. So, like a good mom, I asked her how things went.

She was promoted to officer!!

YAY!!!!

She will be in charge of her brother’s flight!!

Crap.

I’ll be honest, my kids do get along well, but they can also get a bit testy when one reigns supreme over the other. However, it being the ROTC, I know they can be professional about it. The true test will be on Eldest, since she has to walk the tightrope between fairness, and being a tyrannical megalomaniac. I know she can do well, as she has proven herself to the Commander. And this will help her achieve her goals toward leadership positions.

But Son won’t take crap from her sitting down for long.

Move over, lemonade. It’s time for Mylanta. πŸ™‚


Manic Monday

Usually I wake up gradually as the sun rises. I can’t manage to ever sleep in, unless I stay up the evening before well into the early morning hours, and then I sleep only until about 8:30 AM. Yes, I realize I am doing it wrong. I can’t even manage to nap during the day.

Anyway, this morning I woke up in a panic. Eldest had a AFJROTC seminar to attend at 8 AM, and it was 7:30, and since she moves at the speed of dark, I kind of freaked out a bit, and ran to get her going, only to find her in the bathroom getting spiffied up.

Me: Don’t you have to be there at 8???

Eldest: No, mom… 8:30.

Me: Oh….

Eldest: I got everything ready last night, too.

Me: Oh, good!

I trudge back to the kitchen to get coffee, and settle to read the horrid news from all over the world, and at 8:17 she walks into the kitchen, all spit shined and pretty, ready to go. I get up and move to go when suddenly she says:

Eldest: Oh, I forgot I can’t wear red nail polish!!

Me: Tough, they will deal with it. Let’s go!

The more things change….


Bittersweetness

Today is the day.

She is sixteen years old. She is taller than I am. She is beautiful, inside and out. And as I sit here and write about her, and think about how wonderful she is, I reflect on that day sixteen years ago when she came into the world and my heart breaks, knowing that she will never be my baby again.

Happy birthday to my oldest bundle of joy πŸ™‚