My Name Is Blondie, and I Have a Teenager...

My son is a Freshman in High School this year, which, apparently, is a much bigger deal for ME than it is for him. I bug him DAILY about school, desperate for information about how he is faring in the scary world that IS high school. I worry about my son a bit because he is a keen observer of behavior and careful to "process" those observations in a way that ensures his own behavior flies "below the radar." He is careful NOT to draw attention to himself and to "stay out of trouble." He is sensitive when it comes to the volatile, neurotic interactions that define his peer group. I worry about him because I'm always afraid he will be "too nice" to navigate the minefields, and boys that are "too nice" often become targets.

But, I am learning that my son is actually far more astute and confident than I ever was at that age. He is still a "nice guy," but he is also equipped with certain advantages I never had. For starters, he is a BOY, and he is BIG for his age (5' 10" tall and 150 pounds at 14.) For boys, size matters, and we happen to live in a town where many boys in his peer group are little, wee persons, so JCH has an advantage by towering over most of his peers, plus, he also possesses a generally friendly, jovial disposition that makes him universally "likeable." He is also equipped with a quick wit that disarms potential attackers. He has a core group of friends that have been his friends since first grade, so even though he has no classes with them, they still meet up for lunch and spend countless hours connected through technology with their video games and social networking. These are GOOD KIDS, and they stick together. Also, they are BOYS, which means they are NOT subject to the "drama" girls have at this age. (PHEW!)

I have been trying to figure out where my son will "fit in" in the High School Clique Index. He is not an athlete, but he is also NOT a nerd because he has social skills. He is one of the millions caught "in the middle," flying under the radar. And I am okay with that as long as he is happy.

Homecoming Week took place a week ago. His FIRST HOMECOMING! I remember Homecoming in my hometown, and it was a BIG DEAL when I was his age. I kept bugging him about it--are you going to the game? What about the parade? Are your friends talking about going to the dance? And he looked at me like I was a complete idiot.

"Gawd, MOM, I don't care about the football team. All of the football players are assholes, and parades are stupid. YOU grew up in Los Alamos, 30 years ago, where nobody had anything better to do than go to a stupid dance."

Then Tuesday night rolls around, and he asks me to drive him to school at 7pm to attend the "Homecoming Bonfire." Wednesday night rolls around, and he "announces" that he is going to the Homecoming Dance on Saturday, and I need to take him shopping for suitable attire (semi-formal.) I, of course, ask "probing questions" and soon discover there is a GIRL involved, and Thursday night turns into a very dramatic shopping session, where my sweet, Momma's Boy Son suddenly becomes obstinate and REJECTS every suggestion I make as to appropriate pants/shirts/tie combinations. Much bickering ensues, and since there are several other teenagers and parents milling about JC Penney, we have an audience.

My son, for some strange reason, wanted to wear black pants and a black shirt.

I said, "Absolutely not! Only Maffia Dons wear black pants and black shirts, and you have a Baby Face and totally cannot pull off that 'Look'! At best, you will look like a Bouncer, or worse, a MIME!"

So we settled on a charcoal grey shirt or a deep teal shirt with grey or khaki pants. (JC Penney had a Buy One Get One Free sale going on.)

Lord have mercy. WHO KNEW it was such a problem to BUY PANTS? Pleats or plain fronts? Sleek, synthetic blends versus cotton? And don't get me started on dress socks (my son was perfectly happy to wear athletic socks, and when I tried to mock him by calling him "Cliff Claven," he looked at me with total confusion--"Cliff Claven? Who the hell is that?")

And then there was the "Choosing of the Tie"...

I LOVE selecting ties for men. Selecting ties for my dad, my ex-husband, and my brother-in-law are some of the happiest shopping excursions I have ever had. And today, men's ties are in their greatest glory. So many choices--so many colors--so many patterns! But, alas, all my son wanted was a boring old diagonal stripe or subtle geometric print in neutral colors. No paisleys, no fun colors, nothing that would distinguish him as a Sharp-Dressed Man.

Much bickering ensued. After my son retreated to the Dressing Room, not one, not two, but THREE males approached me asking for my opinion about tie selection, after over-hearing my "lecture" to my son about the importance of selecting a tie, and how it established Image and Style. All three of them left with gorgeous ties (that my son rejected!)

In the end, I allowed my son to make the final tie selection because I didn't want to be one of "those" mothers who is overbearing and smothering. (Yes, sadly, he picked a boring diagonal stripe in muted tones.) I did, however, insist on appropriate dress socks and since he didn't care about the socks, I managed to pick up a pair of classy, preppy argyle dress socks for him!

Now, about that girl...my son was very unclear on how she fit into the picture. Back in my day, Homecoming Dances were always Date dances, but nowadays, girls are far more liberated and since they universally love to get dressed up and hang out with their friends, they are not about to leave events like Homecoming up to Clueless 14-year-old boys. They buy their own tickets, and if no boy asks them to go, then they will just show up with their friends and have a good time without them. And, I think, this is EXACTLY the approach "the girl" my son is smitten with took. (He actually confided in me that he went with her to stand in line to purchase her ticket and didn't mention a word about going to the dance himself until days later--because he is a CLUELESS 14-year-old boy that can't get a HINT.)

At first, when I tried to ask "probing questions" my son was reticent about giving me ANY information--telling me he didn't trust me to not "freak out" and embarrass him. But, he really does LIKE this girl, and he couldn't hold it in and eventually agreed to provide me with her first name only. I promised him I wouldn't "make a big deal out of it," but that I hoped she was a nice girl that got good grades. And the whole exchange was kind of sweet--me prodding him for information, him objecting, me begging, him torturing me, me making promises not to "embarrass him," and then, him finally telling me her first name (and then, immediately after I returned after dropping him off for the dance, I went through his Middle School Yearbook and FOUND her! My son is such a dope! She is the ONLY girl in the entire 8th grade class last year named Sharon! LOL!)

So, here comes Saturday night, and I realized that my son is seriously in need of a shave (he has peach fuzz on his upper lip and weird curls growing along his jawline.) His Dad is nowhere to be found. So, here I am, trying to show my son how to shave with a REAL razor for the first time. He tells me he has no confidence in my directions, since I have only shaved my legs, not my FACE. I tell him, "well, I watched your Dad shave for 14 years. Make a face--like this...." and proceeded to make crazy faces in the mirror and walked him through the process. I had purchased cologne for him in small sizes for his Christmas Stocking last year, and he chose my favorite, the cologne my Mom bought for my Dad, Canoe--and it made my heart happy! (Secret Confession: I LOVE any man that smells good, so I think my son should smell good.)

And, then, I had to tie his tie! YIKES! I have only tied a tie about four times in my life, so I am no expert, but I was the ONLY expert present that night for my son, so I stepped up to the plate and shared that moment with him--his first "Date." Yes, it occurred to me that his father SHOULD HAVE been performing these "firsts," but we had left messages on his voice mail about the whole Homecoming thing and had heard NOTHING in response, so it was clearly going to be my responsibility to teach our son how to shave and tie a tie. And, so I did.

It took a lot of pleading, but I finally got my son to agree to let me take his picture before the dance. We started out with serious poses, but it didn't take long for my son, the Ham, to start mimicking fashion mags and striking all kinds of ridiculous poses that made me laugh so hard, I couldn't take the pictures! He is a truly, funny kid!

As it turns out, two of his Guy Friends were supposed to show up at the Homecoming Dance, but both of them chickened out at the last minute. JCH was the only one of their "group" to actually show up. The Girl was also supposed to show up with a "group" but all but one of her friends "backed out" at the last minute, too. So, my son, the Nice Guy, showed up and Saved the Day for her and her friend. He did not call me to pick him up until after midnight and tried to tell me the dance was "boring," but I knew better. Those two freshmen girls, attending their first High School dance, probably felt very intimidated by all of those "paired-off older" kids, and my son provided a much-needed buffer. And, to his credit, even though he found the whole experience to be "awkward and boring," he stayed because he understood that the event was NOT boring to those two girls, and he stayed to make it easier for them.

I am so proud and pleased to know that my son is a Nice Guy!

Money Pit

One day last fall, while pulling weeds in my sideyard, I was approached by a Man with a Gold Tooth, offering to take care of my weeds and remove the dead tree from my backyard, for a low, low price. He also pruned all of my trees, and removed the "burial mounds" that existed as "landscaping elements" when I moved in. Living where I do, it requires a great deal of effort to grow anything in the poor quality dirt we have here. Consequently, most people fill their yards with rock and concrete, and landscaping generally involves decorating with, you guessed it, more rocks--different sizes, different colors, but, still rocks. There is a growing trend towards artificial grass to add a little green. My backyard has all of those elements, including the artifical grass, but it is an ugly backyard, without much to look at, so I committed my income tax refund (and then some) to pay the man with the gold tooth to haul out a good amount of rock, some ugly bushes, the dead apple tree, and clear space for a future garden.

"Before" picture of one side of my backyard and my crappy patio furniture, taken 3 years ago when I first moved in. (Note the creepy raised "mounds" of rock--the first time I saw them, I whispered to my Realtor, "Do you think there are BODIES buried under there?")


Well, the Man with the Gold Tooth got more than just my income tax refund. He also got most of my savings account and at least one entire paycheck. Before I knew it, he had talked me into putting in a pond, complete with 3 large koi and 5 large goldfish that he provided "for free" because another one of his customers wanted to get rid of them because he was getting too old to take care of his pond and the fish.

"After" picture, taken in April, just after the pond was "finished."



I had to hire a licensed electrician to add a dedicated electrical line to run the pump for the waterfall/filter and the lights, because, yes, my pond also has interior and exterior lighting.

Pond at night.

Here is a picture of some of my "decorative" fish. There are 3 speckled koi, all of them at least a foot long and retail for around $100.

I also have 5 goldfish--1 orange, 1 orange and white with fantails, 1 white, and 2 black. Yes, I know, sounds ridiculous, but some goldfish are black or white instead of orange. My plain, black goldfish arrived with a bonus baby black goldfish in tow. Junior has been elusive and hard to spot, probably because he hides in the shallow areas of the pond, in between the rocks, because the koi could swallow him whole. I am happy to report that he has tripled in size since acquisition.

Here is another picture of the fish, their first day in the pond, before the water had become murky and pond-like.

Well, if I wanted to sit out on my back patio and enjoy the new "look" to my backyard, I also needed better patio furniture, right? Yes, of course! So, I spent another $1,000 on a new patio set, which arrived in pieces, and my son helped me to assemble. There were 2 washers and 1 bolt remaining after assembly, but, so far, nothing has collapsed out from under us yet, so I think it's okay.

You would think that would be the end of the story, but, no. I own a terrier and terriers are not only curious, but incredibly focused--to the point of being borderline crazy. Molly was fascinated by the fish, and would spend all day and all night in the yard "stalking" and terrorizing the fish. She would jump around from boulder to boulder, and inevitably wind up falling into the pond 2 or 3 times a day. I had to "banish" her from the backyard for about two weeks, only allowing her out in the backyard on a LEASH, for crying out loud. Fortunately, after about two weeks, the novelty wore off, and her obsession for stalking the fish waned, although she still spends a half hour or so every day stalking them, but at least she no longer falls in because I put potted plants up around the perimeter of the pond to minimize the number of "perches" she could access.

Molly, stalking the fish

Another $200 for pots and plants to create obstacles for the terrier.

The statue to the right of the waterfall is my grandmother's St. Francis statue that I "inherited." He is a little worse for wear after spending four decades in a blazing hot Phoenix, AZ backyard. He has been beheaded more than once (knocked over by wind, grandchildren, or exuberant Labrador or Golden Retrievers owned by those grandchildren), but we just keep resurrecting him by glueing his head back on. After I put St. Francis out there, my daughter asked, "Why is there a creepy priest lurking over our fish, when we aren't even Catholic?" Well, that's a long, complicated story for another day, and, wait a minute, just HOW and WHEN did you become so suspicious and cynical of "creepy priests" when we aren't even Catholic?

I thought the pond project was complete and my dealings with the Man with the Gold Tooth could finally come to an end, but, no, he keeps coming around to check on the pond. I started not answering the door, but then he would just go around to my side gate and go check on the pond himself, rapping on my back door and peering in through the living room windows on that side of the house. It's like having a "stalker"!

Having a pond that is pretty much in full sun for most of the day is problematic because of the algae that builds up. To keep the algae under control, you have to either drain and clean the pond every 3 months, or provide shade, either through aquatic plants, trees, or some other structure. So, I wound up hiring the Man with the Gold Tooth to build a shade structure over the pond. I decided to make it look "southwestern." Don't let the "rustic" appearance fool you--it was ridiculously expensive.

I have more aquatic plants in the pond now, including water lilies that attract dragon flies and other bugs for the fish to feed on. The fish are thriving--the koi have grown another 2-3 inches, and I noticed last weekend that there were at least a dozen tiny new baby fish in the pond!

I have not yet managed to get rid of the Man with the Gold Tooth, but I'm working on it. He is a horrible little man--his speech is filled with profanities and atrocious grammar, and he can't do math or provide an estimate that even closely resembles the actual cost of a project. Every time I hire him, it winds up costing me 3 times what he originally told me it would cost. The "final" price is reduced if I pay "cash," which means he is trying to avoid paying taxes on his income. I swear he shows up every time he runs out of money proposing additional projects for me. I think I may have to claim him and his 3 little kids as dependents on my tax return because I'm fairly certain I am providing over half their support--that's how much money I have given him this year.

I had Big Plans for a Garden this year, but I ran out of money, thanks to the Pond/Money Pit. But, there is always next year! I will hire someone (NOT the Man with the Gold Tooth!) to fence off my garden plot to keep the dogs OUT of the garden, since they not only love to dig and poop in the garden, but they also like to eat my tomatoes and herbs. I'm going to plant corn, tomatoes, garlic, green chile, jalapenos, zucchini, beans, and sugarbaby watermelons. I have a smaller garden plot on the other side of the yard that will be reserved for herbs. I have a few nice planters for flowers, and I want to add a lilac bush or two over by the shed, as they were my mother's favorite.

We have had a particularly hot, dry, windy, miserable summer this year, so we haven't spent too much time out on the patio, but I expect that will change once it cools down a little. I'm considering putting up some misters around the covered patio and planting a tree or two along the back wall. My backyard faces west, so it is brutally hot in the summer and could use some "evaporative cooling" and shade. A fire pit might also be a nice addition for the cooler months, but I don't want to get too carried away!

While my backyard projects seem pretty extensive, that's only the tip of the iceberg. The inside of my house requires even more work, from general clean-up (I never did finish unpacking from the move...3 years ago!) to flooring, paint, furniture, re-finishing kitchen cabinets, and a serious purging of the contents of my garage.

Ah, the joys of home ownership!

Forward

I have spent my entire life living FORWARD. I have virtually no memories of my childhood. I was so caught up with wanting to be Older, I paid little attention to the day-to-day events of life. I remember a few snapshots, here and there, but what I remember most, particularly as an adolescent, was itching to be OLDER and getting away from the helpless, awkward, uncertainty of childhood/adolescence and finally having control over my destiny. When I was in Junior High, I couldn't wait to be in High School. When I was in High School, I couldn't wait to be in College. When I was in College, I couldn't wait to be out in the Workforce. When I had babies, I couldn't wait for them to be OLDER. I am quite certain that the people I encountered during those phases of my life would describe me as being "aloof" and "superior" and "condescending" and otherwise "unlikeable."

Looking back I realize that this perspective benefitted me in many ways. For starters, I was so focused on the future, that it kept me from doing stupid things in my youth because I was always hyper-aware of potential consequences. I have no funny stories to tell of my youthful "hijinks" because there were none. Do I have regrets? Certainly. Did I make mistakes? Of course. But if I were to describe the stories behind those regrets and mistakes to someone else, that someone else would laugh at me and wonder what the hell was wrong with me to think that story was worth re-telling.

Consequently, I had a very boring life. My kids are teenagers now, and they hear their dad and his brothers tell stories about crazy stunts they pulled as kids. They ask me if I have any similar stories to tell, and, well, I've got nothing, and they say I'm "boring." And I respond with, "Yes, because I also was not STUPID." I am a total Buzzkill (but, also, a Buzzkill with a full scholarship to college, and a recession-proof, good-paying Government Job with Benefits, that I love.) I actually take pride in the fact that I have no stories to tell. Does this make me an uptight, humorless person? Absolutely not. I was surrounded by peers who were perfectly willing to engage in dangerous behaviors, make bad choices, and I was quite content to stand by and observe and allow them to serve as a "warning to others," while I stayed on the sidelines, safely ensconced with my virtues intact and my "To Do List" in hand. I can re-tell THEIR stories with great humor and wit, forever thankful that I am not the main character--only the narrator.

An additional benefit from being so "forward-thinking" is the fact that I could cope with "Drama" and potential hardships very sanely. My mind-set has always been: "This is temporary. A year from now, things will be better." This was a very good attitude to have when married and my husband spent most of our married life quitting jobs and spending weeks and months at a time unemployed. It was also a good attitude to have when going through divorce and dealing with the sluggish Family Court system. When I was prepping for a Job Interview several months ago, I was reviewing "Popular Interview Questions." One of them was "The position you are applying for is very challenging and involves short deadlines and high-profile projects. How would you handle the additional stress of the position?" TRUTH: I handle the stress by neglecting my children and working more hours to meet deadlines during the week, and drinking a lot of cheap wine and sleeping until noon on the weekends, but, of course, that would not be an appropriate response. The real response is that I handle Stress by adopting an approach from the Scarlett O'Hara Guide to Life: "I'll think about it tomorrow--after all, tomorrow is another day." I am just a cog in the wheel of the bureaucracy that IS Federal Government. I do not perform brain surgery. I edit memos and procedural manuals. If I don't meet a deadline, nobody DIES. So, yeah, whatever it was that you wanted? It can WAIT until tomorrow.

So, I am still "forward-thinking," but I recognize that I have finally reached that elusive point in my life where I have all of those things my Younger Me was chasing. I have a House in a good neighborhood that I love. I make good money--enough that there is actually more money at the end of the month than bills. I have complete and total control over the money I make. I wake up every day excited and happy to go to work. My kids feed themselves, tie their own shoes and wipe their own butts. They entertain me daily with engaging conversations at the dinner table.

And, suddenly, for the first time ever, I really don't want to keep thinking forward. It is finally time for me to grasp, enjoy, embrace, and remember EVERY moment I have right now because Life is PERFECT. If I look forward now, I have to worry about my health declining, the Federal Deficit, my kids leaving home and trying to find jobs. YUCK! But, right now? My bills are paid, there is money in my Savings Account, my kids are here most of the time and doing well in school, making friends, not being bullied and not being bullies, and I still love my job. I live in an obscure, podunk state with no floods, no earthquakes, no tornadoes, and no hurricanes. (Most of America, and certainly no Terrorists, even know we're a state.) I feel safe, secure, and reasonably-content. The only time I worry, is when I find myself looking forward because NOW the future involves things like my kids experimenting with drugs or driving cars, and me facing Health Issues like high blood pressure and heart disease and breast cancer (I'm in the "High Risk" category for all 3.)

So, I think it is now time for me to STOP thinking forward and, instead, time for me to Be Present.