Posts Tagged ‘moms’

18 Things My Kid Can Do Now That He’s 18 (But That Doesn’t Mean That He Should)

My oldest son’s 18th birthday was quickly approaching and he kept talking about all of the “perks” of being an adult: voting, unrestricted driving, buying lottery tickets.

I, on the other hand, started to obsess about the perils: arrests, dangerous sports, permanent scarring (aka tattoos).

He and I discussed the five points – well, I talked and he half-listened because he is 18-years-old and he thinks he is invincible. Then the night he turned 18 I presented him with $20.00 for lottery tickets and the following list:

18 Things You Can Do Now That You Are 18

(But that doesn’t mean that you should)

  1. Buy A Lottery Ticket
  2. Vote
  3. Get a Tattoo or Body Piercing
  4. Serve on a Jury
  5. Sky Dive or Bungee Jump
  6. Change Your Name
  7. Donate Blood
  8. Buy a Car
  9. Rent an Apartment
  10. Enlist in the Military
  11. Buy Cigarettes
  12. Drive All Night
  13. File a Law Suit or Sue Someone
  14. Get a Job Serving Alcohol
  15. Move out of Your Parents’ House
  16. Sign a Legally Binding Contract
  17. Work Full-Time
  18. Be Tried and Convicted as an Adult

I saved the best for last.

Dear College Admissions Officers

Dear College Admissions Officers-

Don’t worry, I’m not trying to make a plea for my kid to get into your school. I am submitting an application for you to complete for my consideration of your school.

See, if I’m going to sell myself to the devil in order to help pay for my son’s education, I think I have the right to make you impress me.

Yes, we’ve visited the schools, attended the info sessions and reviewed the websites to make sure that you are a good fit for my kid but really, is that enough?

I know that you are going to put on your best face to appeal to me and my kid. You will have the best-suited kids give the tours and sit on the discussion panels but we all know that those kids reflect the top 5% of your student body. I want to see the other 95%. Do all your students have double majors and triple minors and have they all started their own companies/written a novel/cured a disease?

Really?

Sure, you could argue that you don’t need my kid – there are thousands of kids who would happily take his spot. That is why I’m petitioning every parent of a future college student to include this application as part of the process going forward.

Don’t be intimidated by the questions. They are quite simple. In fact, many of them are very similar to the ones that you asked my son to answer on your application so, yes, they may seem a bit familiar*. This is designed to make it easier for you and, more importantly, to explain what you were thinking when you wrote the question asking a 17-year-old what part of your strategic vision most appeals to him.

Please review the application questions carefully. Any misstatements will be held against you. Also, should your word count exceed the stated word limit your application will be deleted and you will be mocked.

  1. Please describe in 100 words or less what a real dorm room is like using at least four out of the five senses (bonus points for using taste). Please do not describe the dorm room that is used on tours, you know, the one decorated by Bed, Bath and Beyond and unoccupied by an actual student.
  2. Please explain why your campus food service is now limited to fast food chains and how you feel that three meals a day at Panda Express and Jimmy John’s will provide adequate nutrition for my child. Feel free to include medical journal articles in support of your answer.
  3. My family’s strategic vision promises to make my children competent members of society and to cultivate skills to enable them to contribute to society without asking family members to clean up after them. Please describe, in 300 words or less, how providing laundry service instead of forcing students to do their own laundry will promote our vision.
  4. Name one dish you would prepare for my family if we were invited to dinner at your home?
  5. Tell me your favorite joke and explain how telling me a joke will make me want to send my kid to your school.
  6. Do you have a scholarship for students of Eastern European Jewish/Greek Orthodox descent whose grandparents were in the scrap metal and/or restaurant business? If not, why not?
  7. Will my kid get a job when he leaves your school or will he be living with me again in four years? In 300 words or less tell me why I should believe you.

Applications must be submitted by midnight tonight. You will hear from us via email or possibly snail mail by March 18 or March 25 or possibly earlier, unless it’s later, depending on our mood.

Thank you for your prompt response,

Exhausted Mom of a College Applicant

*See if you can guess which questions were based on real application questions.

Teaching Kids About Relationships (or How to Avoid Talking Directly About Sex)

I didn’t realize that conversations about the birds and the bees would continue long after my initial “this is how babies are made and no, it’s nothing like a chicken” talk that I had with my kids. I really thought that you have “the talk” and never speak of such things again. But with two teenaged boys I’ve come to appreciate the importance of continuing a dialogue—especially when one of those teens is dating.

So, in honor of Valentine’s Day, I’ve decided to share some relationship advice with my kids (and you). It’s either that or let my kids get their information from TV, movies and a bunch of their friends who also have no idea how to have a healthyish relationship.

Find my 5 Steps For a Successful Marriage at Manilla and on Yahoo Finance:

https://www.manilla.com/blog/5-steps-for-a-successful-marriage/

http://finance.yahoo.com/news/5-steps-successful-marriage-154545486.html

Surviving the Holidays…with Teens

Do you have teenagers? Are they sucking the joy out of the season? Are you looking for a way to manage their moods that doesn’t involve boycotting the holidays??

I may have the answer (or at least the beginning of an answer).

I’m on manilla.com today blogging about my 3-step survival plan for the holidays.  Let me know what you do to keep your cool during this festive season.

https://www.manilla.com/blog/tis-the-season-3-step-holiday-survival-plan-for-dealing-with-teenagers/

The Procrastinator’s Guide to Holiday Shopping (or what not to do if you actually want to buy gifts this season)

No matter how much I think I have my shit together I always find myself scrambling for the “perfect Christmas gift” on December 24. It’s not like Christmas falls on a different date every year or that I haven’t been reminded on a daily basis since Halloween to start my holiday shopping and yet…

This year I had the crazy idea that I could be one of those people who shop for holiday gifts throughout the year. I would pick up the perfect presents as I found them and squirrel them away until the holidays.

And then I snapped out of it.

I think that I’m a much better shopper in full-on panic mode. That doesn’t mean that I actually buy better gifts when I’m panicking; it simply means that I get more creative.  For instance, in years past, our local 24-hour pharmacy’s “As seen on TV” section has been a real life saver. The Snuggie was the inspiration for the “couch potato” themed gift for my youngest son which included popcorn and a couple of DVDs and I tossed the infamous Ped Egg in a basket with some foot cream and nail polish for a friend. Done!

So, you may be wondering how I get myself into this predicament every year—or maybe you’re not, but I’m going to tell you anyway. I usually don’t procrastinate especially when it’s something I enjoy – and I truly enjoy picking out gifts for others. I think the problem is that there is just so much to choose from that I get distracted.

It goes something like this:

First, I go online to browse. I don’t want to head out to a store, or 12—only to find nothing worth buying so, I browse. I check out the GAP website looking for more clothes for my 17-year-old because I have no idea what else to buy him. I scroll through the long-sleeve shirt section but as I scroll back to the top, I notice the GapFit tab. I could use some more yoga pants, I think. I’ll just see what they have and add stuff to my list.

15 minutes and $60 later I have new yoga pants – my husband can wrap these for me – but no shirts for my kid.

Then, I make another major gaffe by “peeking” at Amazon.

It’s like a black hole.

I bounce from Young Adult books for my youngest to shoes for my 17-year-old to stocking stuffers (ooh, gloves!) to the new Kindle HDX.  Then I take a detour to look at the Holiday Gift Guide which makes me remember all of the magazines that I have been saving with Holiday Gift Guides so I abandon my cart and start to flip pages.

I love Gift Guides. They have absolutely nothing that I would ever buy for anyone – ever – yet, I can’t stop buying magazines that scream “Best Ever Holiday Gift Guide” on the cover. I am positive that one year there will be something that strikes a cord but so far – zip. I mean, who on earth would want a $165 Oscar de la Renta ceramic Shell Crab Condiment Server??

When the “fun” of online shopping wears off I often head to the mall (although usually not on the same day lest you think I’m crazy). I always believe that the festive atmosphere of shopping malls around the holidays will compel me to finish my holiday shopping.

Usually, however, it compels me to buy more gifts for myself.

Just so we are clear, I rarely shop for myself – seriously – I need to have a reason to shop and wearing the same pair of jeans for years does not qualify as a reason. However, no matter where I go I can always find something that I want (notice that I didn’t say need) during the holidays. This time I found the perfect pair of pants, the best handbag ever, and sunglasses that block the sun and don’t make me look like a bug!

And so it goes:  one thing for a family member and five things for me.

This pattern of online shopping followed by mall shopping can go on for a couple of weeks. Inevitably it leads to shopping burnout which, in turn, leads to me shopping at the 24-hour pharmacy on December 24.

I already see the Sobakawa Buckwheat pillow and/or the Abraham Lincoln Chia head in someone’s future.

On Your Mark, Get Set, Celebrate

I am one half of an inter-faith couple—the lapsed Greek-Orthodox Christian half, while my husband makes up the Jewish half. What does that mean?

It means that December is a very long month.

We celebrate all of our respective holidays, so this year, in addition to hearing Christmas music on the radio that began around Halloween and negotiating packed shopping malls long before Thanksgiving, we also have eight days of Hanukkah to celebrate—in November. I’m going to be burnt out by Christmas; that’s too long for me to stay festive.

But I’m trying.

To begin, I will start with sharing a smattering of things that I am grateful for this Thanksgiving.

I would like to say that the things I am grateful for are all appropriately Thanksgiving-esque, but they’re not. Not that I’m not grateful for my health and my family and electricity and health insurance because I really, really am. I am the person who walks around waiting for the other shoe to drop because I can’t believe how much good stuff I have in my life and I’m thankful for all of it. But, I’m also really grateful for the inane stuff—like wine and popcorn for dinner when no one else is home.

It really is about the little things…

  1. I am thankful that my husband sucks at this parenting gig as much as I do because I know that I’m not alone.
  2. (This should really be 1a but…) I am thankful that my husband knows that he sucks at being a parent and doesn’t look at me with disdain when I do something stupid.
  3. I am grateful (and a little amazed) that my sons’ friends don’t mind hanging out at our house and chatting with me especially when I am wearing the same sweatshirt that I’ve worn for four straight days—and they’ve noticed.
  4. I am secretly grateful for the Xbox or PlayStation on days when I want to take a catnap on the couch and I know my boys will be glued to the screen in the basement for a good hour…or three.
  5. I am thankful that I have a 5-year-old dog, not a puppy, and that my kids are in their teens. I mean, I love puppies – who doesn’t – but I don’t like training puppies and I hate waking up at 3 am to let them out. Sort of like waking up with babies. I have truly loved every stage of my kids’ growth (even the terrible-twos, threes and fours) but it’s kind of awesome to have kids who can carry their own luggage through the airport, talk to me about something they read in the newspaper, and watch movies with me that aren’t animated.
  6. I am grateful that my 13-year-old finally started showering every day. Now if he would just pick up his towel from the floor…
  7. I am grateful for Netflix and Hulu streaming. How else would I be able to spend hours on the couch bonding with my boys over Psych and 24 reruns?
  8. I am so thankful that I have friends who lack a filter (one friend told me that hers “fell out somewhere” in her thirties). Who else would give me the straight dope?
  9. I am thankful that my kids are old enough to understand discretion and have yet to spill any of our family secrets.
  10. I am grateful that my kids don’t always snap at me when I try to talk to them and that, occasionally, they even laugh with me—not at me.

What are you grateful for this Thanksgiving?

Have a very Happy Thanksgiving and Gobble Tov!

Nightmare on Oak Street

Halloween is full of frightening possibilities: haunted houses, slasher movies, costumes dripping with fake blood. But, nothing is as scary as dealing with the college applications process.

It’s enough to give you nightmares. Literally.

Last week I dreamt that the University of Wisconsin at Madison denied my application for admission.

Denied! Not even wait listed?!

No matter how much I pleaded with the admissions officers they wouldn’t budge. It didn’t matter that I already had an undergrad degree—and a law degree!

“We are a very selective school,” the admissions officer reminded me. “You will have to do better.”

(FYI: I didn’t go to the University of Wisconsin, I didn’t apply to the University of Wisconsin, my son has not applied to the school nor does he want to go there so I’m not even sure why I’m dreaming about that school.)

As if that wasn’t bad enough, last night I had a dream that I was admitted to some nameless/faceless school but once I got there I couldn’t leave.

No matter what mode of transportation I chose, I couldn’t get off that campus: I fell down when I was running away, the car wouldn’t turn on, the elevator wasn’t working, the taxi I got in kept bringing me back to the dorm. You name it, it happened to me. I was in my very own clichéd horror movie.

It would have been funny if it weren’t so scary.

So, why am I having these nightmares? I’m not the one with the looming deadlines and the multiple essays yet to be written. I’m not the one still weighing a decision to apply to a school with a November 1 deadline at 8:00 PM on October 31!!

I’m having nightmares because somehow, we parents have been roped into this process, a process that our parents weren’t even privy to. My parents didn’t even realize that I had sent in my college applications until they were in the mail. They didn’t read my essays or proof my application to check for stupid mistakes – that was all on me.

To top it off we parents now get constant updates from the college counselor’s office letting us know how much our kids need to get done and when. When I was in high school my mom and I had one meeting with my college counselor and that was the last my mom heard from him. No such luck here.

I understand that the college admissions process is ridiculously stressful for the students. Kids don’t apply to a handful of schools anymore; they apply to 10, or 12 or 15. And each application requires an essay (or three), and it really is a VERY BIG DECISION. The kids are stressed and this stress is spilling into other areas of our children’s lives, namely the dreams of their parents.

I can’t wait for him to get through this process and pick his school. Then I can have dreams about him being away from home and nightmares about how I won’t be able to reach him…

 

Happy Halloween

 

Big News!

I have some really exciting news – and, no, I am NOT pregnant. That certainly would be “news” but not exactly the “exciting” kind.

No, today I was launched as a blogger for Manilla – an on-line, award-winning, free and secure service for consumers to manage their bills and accounts, in one place.

(But that’s not where I come in because I have no idea how to pay my bills on-line…yet)

Manilla.com, which is owned by the Hearst Corporation, also hosts a blog with over 75 expert contributors who write about money, organization, productivity and lifestyle topics on a monthly basis. I will be sharing my “expertise” about the joy and pain and stress and (joy!) of preparing two children to go off into the world as mature, responsible adults.

I was really drawn to Manilla when I saw their booth at the BlogHer Conference in Chicago in July. This t-shirt spoke to me:

photo

I’m always trying to get my s**t together; I thought having the t-shirt would help with that. It was definitely the first step.

If you want to get your s**t together, check out the site and the blogs and see what the other writers have to say about family, health, time management and money strategies.

But wait, there’s more!

If that wasn’t exciting enough for you, today is also the day that the new anthology, Not Your Mother’s Book…On Being a Parent is being released nationwide…and one of my stories is in the book!

Parenting 450_rgb

I am very excited to be part of this series of books and to have my parenting story be published alongside some really funny authors who simply tell it like it is—the good, the bad and the WTF? Not Your Mother’s Book…On Being a Parent is just one title in a slew of humorous books published by Publishing Syndicate, on topics ranging from college to menopause and everything in between.

So, without further ado, here is the piece that was included in the book. Although I wrote it a couple of years ago, very little has changed except that now I have two teenaged boys to feed.

Feeding the Hangry

“I’m so hungry and there is NOTHING TO EAT!”

And so begins the after school fun.

My 15-year-old will stand in front of an open refrigerator teeming with food—yogurt, wedges of multiple types of cheese, tortillas for quesadillas, frozen ravioli, drawers full of fruit and lunch meat, 3 different kinds of bread, frozen pizzas, 2 kinds of peanut butter, 3 different jellies, eggs (uncooked and hardboiled), and every kind of condiment you can imagine—and complain that there is no food in the fridge.

This is usually followed by words that make my blood boil: “Make me SOMETHING!”

Keeping up with the food intake of a 15-year-old boy is a very time-consuming (not to mention, expensive) proposition. My son needs to eat at least every 2 hours or he becomes Hangry – no, it’s not a typo – he becomes so hungry that he becomes angry and nobody needs a teenager who is angrier than usual.

He is capable of consuming an entire sub sandwich, a large bag of chips, yogurt and fruit and he’ll finish all of this off with a bowl of cereal. That’s between 3:30 and 3:45. By 4:15 he is starving!

So, what does he do? Does he then sort through the pantry and whip up a satisfying snack? Does he sift through his memories to find one of the endless recipes that I have painstakingly demonstrated to him should he find himself hungry and alone? No, of course not.  He waits for me to make him something or he grabs a completely unsatisfying cereal bar and moans until dinner.

I have been saying for years that he would starve to death if someone weren’t there to feed him. And whose fault is this? Mine. I take all the blame for this one.  I have gratefully fed him all of these years because he loves food—especially my food. What mother wouldn’t want to hear her child gush about how good her food is? “You’re the best cooker,” he told me when he was 5 as he inhaled whatever dish I put in front of him. That was cute then. Now, not so much.

So the other day, while he was begging me to make him some spinach ravioli with browned butter and shaved Parmesan (yes, yes, I’ve spoiled him, I know!), I turned to him and said: “No – make it yourself.”

“But I don’t know how,” he insisted. “And you’re right here. You could make it better.”

“Pretend I’m dead,” I responded. He turned to me in horror.
“What?” he asked.

“Pretend I’m dead,” I repeated. “How would you eat?”

I could see the wheels turning.  Should he demonstrate his limited cooking skills and make a quesadilla or should he pour another bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios?

It’s usually around this time – right after I’ve thrown down the gauntlet and demanded that he learn to take care of himself that I start to feel myself back-peddling. Would it really be so horrible to continue to cook for him while he lives at home? Couldn’t I just baby him a little while longer, he’ll be gone in a few years, right?

The reality is he would eventually find food or find a way to make food. He likes food far too much to subsist on sugar cereal and frozen waffles. He even signed up for a Creative Cuisine class next year at school. But why would he ever put any of those skills to use if I’m around to feed him? And should a 15-year-old have to?

What’s worse: not feeding your child who is asking for food or not teaching your child to fend for himself?

I feel my defenses breaking down. I’m just about to break out the pots and pans when he decides to answer me.

“If you weren’t around to feed me…I’d order take out.”

Problem solved.

I Left My Baby On a Train!

Ok, I didn’t actually leave my baby on a train. It was my 13-year-old and I didn’t leave him anywhere; I put him on a commuter train heading for the safety of camp in the northern suburbs of Chicago.

Still, as the train pulled away from the station, it sure felt like I placed my newborn on the train and let him go.

It was like that Subaru commercial with the dad who is giving his car keys to his older daughter but instead of a mature teenager all he sees is a little girl in the driver’s seat.

What was I thinking??

Even my husband (he of the “let’s send our kids to summer camp for eight weeks and not have any communication with them” mindset) couldn’t believe that I let our son take the train! WTF?? I thought he would see this as a huge step toward independence.

It didn’t help that I kept replaying scenes from movies over and over in my head as I drove home from the train station.

Have you seen the movie, Source Code? The Jake Gyllenhaal movie where the northbound commuter train in Chicago explodes over and over again? Yes, that scene kept popping up.

Followed very closely by the scene from the movie, Unstoppable, where Chris Pine and Denzel Washington are desperately trying to stop a train from hurtling off the edge of the train tracks as it races toward a sharp bend in the tracks. (Clearly I have to stop watching late night television).

I fretted for a while, wondering if he actually made it to camp then realized, if there really was a problem, I would have gotten a call from the counselor who meets my son and his friend at the train every morning (or at least I would have seen something on the morning news, right?).

Then it hit me: what I was most afraid of when I put him on that train is not that he would end up as the victim of some crazy Hollywood movie plot; it was that he wouldn’t need me anymore.

The more independent my “baby” gets the less he will need me…and then he will be gone.

With my 17-year-old just a year away from leaving for college (and basically gone most of the time already) my youngest is the only one I have left to take care of (unless you count my husband and the dog and my 17-year-old when he is home, but you get the point).

Letting go of my 13-year-old means just that—letting go and not knowing what will happen or where he is or what he is doing. It’s scary…

…and, yet, surprisingly easy to get used to.

Let me explain.

The first couple of days I walked him down to the platform and admonished him to stay behind the yellow line. I waited for his friend to meet him but not for the train to actually show up (I watched for that from the bridge, out of his line of sight).

By the third day I found the walk down to the platform to be unnecessary. His friend will show up, I reasoned. Besides, it’s not like he wanted to sit and chat with me while we waited.

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He can’t get away fast enough

Day Four:

My alarm goes off at 6:45 am and my first thought is: why can’t he just ride his bike to the train?

What a difference four days make…

Go Away*

“I can’t wait to go to college!” my 17-year-old proclaimed.

Finally, I thought. I was so excited that I completely ignored the fact that he finished the sentence with: “…so I can get away from YOU!”

All I heard was HE CAN’T WAIT TO GO TO COLLEGE!

Whatever the driving force may be, I don’t care – he wants to leave!

I was worried for a while that I was making his life too easy and he would never want to go to college. He doesn’t need to set an alarm clock because I happily (?!) climb up and down the stairs every morning for at least a half-an-hour begging him to get out of bed. He’s never had to make his own dinner (if food is not prepared he’ll graze until he can get the car keys and go out to eat); and his sheets and clothes are (surprise!) always clean when he needs them.

Why would he want to leave?? (And more importantly, what is wrong with me??)

I know most adults would never leave a place where they are catered to, waited on and downright worshipped, so why would a teen?

But I have finally hit on the best way to get your kids to leave: annoy them, harass them, remove their bedroom door if you have to, whatever it is just do it and let them move out.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids. But I really, really, really want them to go to college – preferably a college that requires a 3-4 hour plane ride from home. Of course I will miss them but I will see them again – there are lots of breaks from school where they can come home, sleep late, visit their friends and borrow our car. Breaks that are just long enough to remind me that I want them to become productive members of society so they can move into their own homes and do their own laundry.

When we first started discussing college with our son, I didn’t really think that I would need to sell him on the idea of going away. It’s college! It’s freedom! It’s fun! But he just didn’t seem to grasp that.

We wanted to show him college students having fun (no, not playing beer pong or doing shots off of a co-eds belly) so we sent him to a college football game. Take my advice: If you are trying to sell your kid on the idea that college kids have SO MUCH FUN then don’t let him go to a football game on a rainy 43–degree day with his dad, uncle and grandfather and make him sit in the stands until the end of the game even though the final score is 83-10.

He won’t even look at a Big 10 school now.

We tried other tactics like stopping at a college that “just happened to be on our way” to our destination and scheduling college visits with his friends but nothing motivated him…until we demanded that he give up his phone at 11:00 pm every night.

Now he can’t wait to get away. Who knew?

I have to wield this new power wisely though. I don’t want to tighten our rules so much that we find him climbing out the window in the middle of the night to flee from the tyranny. No, I will pull out the demands only when I find him getting a little too comfortable in our home like when he plops himself on a stool at the counter and says “breakfast,” or when he’s out of clothes and asks me when I’m going to finish his laundry.

Then all bets are off…

 

*I’ve been holding on to this piece for the past couple of days because it seemed contrary to what I was feeling since the bombing incidents in Boston. This blog post is about wanting my kid to “Go Away” but on Monday I was prepared to have both of my kids live with me forever if it meant I could protect them from random acts of violence. But with a few day’s distance I remembered that no matter where my kids are I will worry about them. It doesn’t matter if they are running down the stairs too quickly at home or driving home from college, I will worry. If I tried to protect them from everything I wouldn’t allow them to go to the movies or a shopping mall without me and they wouldn’t be allowed to participate in largely populated events, teach children in elementary schools or even attend college. And those are only the events of the past year and a half. And so, it is with that in mind, that I can say my kid will leave home and I will worry but it is the way it’s supposed to be.