Dear Todd (We have a Teenager)

December 21, 2016 Dear Todd, I wrote this for Cat and all moms this time of year---and I know I'll misplace it forever if I don't document it here. And maybe one day you'll look back at this and say, "Oh. That's why she was always a little insane in December." The Real Story of The Comings and Goings of The North Pole, by Mrs. S. Claus. T’was the week before Christmas and all through the house,  not a fucking thing was done yet—she’d had no help from her elves.  Mr. Claus was too busy, he managed the toy shop from 9-5.  While Mrs. Claus shlepped the Elves and kept them all alive. She fed all the reindeer, and decorated inside.  And baked 10 dozen cookies, some burnt, but she tried. She went out and found a tree and tied it to the sleigh,  After subbing at the North Pole School—Teacher Elf was sick that day. She came home and hung lights, to help set the mood.  She helped her eldest elf with homework, so Santa would see...

December 14th, 2016 Dear Todd, We went to see the Budweiser Clydesdales yesterday.  It was cool. They are seriously large horses--like Tyranahorses. Pretty sure that's what they're called. Pretty sure. And if I call them that enough, it will stick and they will be known as the Budweiser Tyranahorse, because we are living in a world where we can say whatever the f**k we want and not only will there be no consequence, but the word will be added to Webster's top Fab Five Fictious Phenomenons. But I digress... So we saw the horses. And as we were making our way back past them for the second time--aka "our farewell tour"--practicing our parade waves---one of our children shrieked and proceeded to shame Eric, the Clydesdale.  It would appear that Eric was giving me yet another teaching moment wherein I could explain the origin and meaning of the expression, "Hung like a horse." And so, I'd like to say, "Thank you, Eric. I really don't...

December 6, 2016 Dear Todd, Remember that episode of Ren and Stimpy...called Space Madness in which Ren and Stimpy lose their freakin' minds? I just relived it today with our oldest, "Ren" and our youngest "Stimpy."  However, instead of space and low levels of oxygen, I just took them to their annual physical...and as they anticipated the yearly Flu shot and examination of testicles, they lost their minds.  It started in the large waiting room, while I was checking them in. Me: Hey Guys? Go get some sanitizer on your hands while we're waiting. There were pumps at every end table and even a stand in the middle of the room. As they started...like normal people...at one pump...I stepped up to hand over insurance info and sign medical release forms. When I glanced back over my shoulder, I discovered that they were zipping around the room like competitors in a championship easter egg hunt---gathering samples of sanitizer from every possible pump and ...

December 1, 2016 Dear Todd, Not sure if you've noticed the subtle apocalypse that is starting to swallow up our family---not unlike the Blob as it oozes across the floor and starts to absorb everything in it's path.  Our "blob" is the emotional transformation that is rearing its ugly head from time to time.  It's calling for, in my opinion, and entirely new form of parenting.  I call it "Quaalude Parenting."   Their total irrational highs and lows coupled with the supreme knowledge of everything in the world based on 11-13 years of experience during which they have barely ever listened to anyone taller than themselves unless it was a voice coming out of some sort of screen (gasp for a breath) makes them...hmmm...well...lovable, but sometimes, to use our friend's description, "unlikable." Which brings me back to Quaalude Parenting, or QP. I'm not suggesting we actually start to become drug addicts---though that could start...