Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Why haven't they invented a cage for a Teenage Girl yet?

It takes talent and training to handle being around teenage girls. They aren't like other creatures. There is no direct link from what's going on around them to their reaction. There is no explanation for mood changes, demands, sleep schedules, fights with their friends, or their choice of boy crushes. Disrupting them is like poking a sleeping grizzly. Sometimes it's better not to bother.
The only trick I know is to hardly ever take what they say or the grimace on their face as they say it personally. Very little of what goes on in their head has anything to do with you. If you jump on them every time they step out of the straight lines you've drawn in you fantasy on how great your happily little family will be, you will just wear yourself out and become frustrated and nasty.
Think of the teenage girl as a lunatic and you as the keeper of the keys to the asylum. Don't let them burn the place down or escape. But don't listen to the crazy babble either. They truly don't know what they're saying.
The only time to reprimand them is when their glazed eyes clear for a second and they've just been fed, and their hair has been straightened and eye liner applied. When the twitching isn't noticeable and they can look you in the eye then it's time to take them seriously.
At 15 or 16 their little brains will gel back together and form complete coherent sentences. Expecting perfection too soon is like expecting that grizzly to sit up and shake your hand, rather than claw you to death, bury you beside a stream, and come back to eat you in the fall. They can't get from one point to another in a rational line.
So learn to let it roll off your shoulders sometimes and don't worry so much! Worry causes wrinkles and depression. Don't let your teenager win and turn you into an old person.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Things That Go Bump In the Night

Have you ever shared a bed with someone, turned over at the exact same time, pulled your knees up to curl up and fall asleep in the fetal position which sticks your butt out behind you (where else would it be?) and bumped into the butt of the other person who was doing the same thing?
This creates an awkward situation sometimes referred to as Butt-Bumping, especially when one of the people in the bed yells out "You Butt-Bumped me!" which then becomes more and more awkward as the other person tries to change the subject by talking about cans of chocolate and then ghosts that reach for you in the night when it's so dark because you're at Grandpa's house and there may or may not be electricity. All in an effort to forget that there was any Butt-Bumping involved because the other person is really embarrassed to even think about your butt even though they came from that butt at one point much earlier in time.
And I'm not talking about Mr. Hanky here, although he looks suspiciously like the first cousin of the Hershey Park mascot. I'm talking about having children and how you can never ever get away from them.
And how they drive you crazy by using a metal spatula on your favorite non-stick pan. Is Summer Vacation considered a holiday like Christmas? Cause I sure could use another big bottle of Baileys.
Although dropping them off at the pool in the pouring rain did make me giggle a little insanely in my car on the drive home.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Finding Johnny Depp

I was told today, by a self-proclaimed sugar addict, that he prefers Miracle Whip on his sandwiches. Miracle Whip is just a silly name for a product that pretends to be mayonnaise. Only it's mayonnaise made by a miracle. What's miraculous is that instead of oil, vinegar, and eggs it contains enough sugar to make a candy bar out of a tablespoon of the stuff. It's a miracle that it's considered a condiment and not a creme brulee. It's a miracle if you eat it and don't go into a diabetic coma. It's a miracle if it ever goes bad because it has the same ingredients as Twinkies. Maybe I'm looking for something really miraculous to appear when I open the jar, or um, pop open the plastic cap and squeeze the plastic bottle while it makes farting noises. Like Johnny Depp appearing in my bedroom again. That would be a miracle. With a whip in his hand. Then the name would make sense would make sense cause I would be all like "It's a miracle! And a whip!"
Or I could just pour sugar in a turkey, lettuce, tomato, and avocado sandwich on top of REAL mayonnaise and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. That's what I'll do. I'll let you know how it goes.

Monday, June 15, 2009

It's hard to be sarcastic when things are going really WELL

Summer has started. I can tell because:

I had to sit the kids down and talk to them about how to take phone messages when I'm gone and they're here. As in either get a name, or let the machine pick it up. Because when I got home someone had called twice and I didn't know the number and when I dialed it I got the police department.

Now that could be good or bad. Maybe they're checking up on Haley. Maybe the boys she ratted out for vandalizing Powers Park have been caught. Maybe they tried to involve her in that. Maybe Joe's dead. Maybe I did something wrong and I can't remember it. Maybe it's something about the new BF. Maybe I made too much noise Saturday night! Maybe I'll never answer my phone again.

Good thing my anxiety level is really low these days or this would have sent me over the edge.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Cheesecake Could Be Heaven Or Hell

I'm writing this about Cheesecake because it's on my mind.

I wonder what's worse than eating a piece of Cheesecake in front of someone who can't eat dairy. It's like shooting up heroin in front of a recovering addict. Hi, I'm Kristi and I'm a Cheesecake addict. It took a long time to get to the point when I could turn down cheesecake. The stomach pain after two hours didn't deter me. Reinforcement needs to be immediate. Two hours is a long time to be able to think that I'd be okay.

I used to eat cheesecake on my birthday, on presidential debate night, even after I discovered that a small slice had 500 calories. And today as I watched him lovingly licking the smooth rich goodness off his spoon across from me at a restaurant, I wondered what I would give up to be able to eat Cheesecake again. My first born child? Ooh, Facebook? My one true unnamed addiction? Just for a bite of cheesecake I'd jump into Lake Willoughby in June, go to a highschool reunion, step foot in Nebraska, or listen to Miley Cyrus.

If only life worked that way. But it doesn't. So instead, I watched someone else fall in love with a piece of strawberry Cheesecake. He offered his plate to me to lick clean, but one lick and I'd spend the next ten years obsessing over my next taste. It's better to have the shakes for a few hours and make smacking yummy sounds in my sleep for a couple of days, and to know that the relationship with Cheesecake is entirely over. It is not ever coming back.

I do hope that if there is a heaven, it is made of Cheesecake and I am cured. Otherwise that would be hell. I would rather hell was a nest of snakes or Miley Cyruses. Cheesecake would be low and no one is that mean.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Do I Really Look Under 21?

I must be doing something right!
I got carded while buying a bottle of wine yesterday.
How old do I have to be before I can leave my ID in the car and not worry about looking stupid for saying "I don't have it on me" and feeling like I'm trying to get away with something illegal? I suppose it makes the wine taste better.
Whatever it is I'm doing to avoid aging must be really working. These are things that might be preserving me:
  • The dirt (I know it's not, but I'm in denial) on mushrooms that I sometimes don't bother washing off before eating them.
  • Mushrooms in general.
  • Using Oil of Olay with sunblock every day since I was 21 and in the high UV rays in Wyoming.
  • Reading only from the Young Adult section in the book store.
  • Sleeping on my face.
  • Not worrying about a little leftover soap on my dishes.
  • Only eating sugar when no one is looking.
  • Eating real BUTTER and real SUGAR and sometimes PIE for breakfast.
  • BLEEP.
  • Never dieting.
  • Keeping only really really GOOD people around.
  • Avoiding soap

I would like to lie and say that I don't really care and it's a complete accident that I came out this way, but I'm going to go run on the treadmill and bounce on my yoga ball now.

And I used a 10 dollar bill. The last time I was carded I asked and the cashier said that a 10 is a sign of being young, and that adults only carry 20s.