Dear Todd (We have a Teenager)

Dear Todd, My 30’s were a blur of wiping noses and bottoms. Introducing little people to group class environments during which they practiced parallel play and sharing and when water was involved, they learned buoyancy. On weekends, we practiced riding on two wheels, stretching the limits of the 30-something lower back as we held onto the seat while running. We talked of kindness, empathy, using our words, not hitting and, above all, the art of controlling bodily functions.   And I felt really busy. Like REALLY busy. And yet, I managed to capture a lot of these experiences on film. Photos AND video. We have these precious years captured to look back on forever. (Insert self-back patting here). Where we are now, however, I have no photos. No videos. It is in this—the tween/teen stage of life---that I realize the giant exhale I’ve been anticipating is oh so very far away.  Like really far. Like, nowhere in sight. Like, if I were underwater this whole time, I was now sign...

November 13th, 2017 Dear Todd, Sometimes when we talk       I picture you on fire                   Like in a cartoon           ***Mental note..save for potential vow renewal.

November 11th, 2017 Dear Todd, It is with great trepidation that I announce the Return of Daniel Google or Daniel Google 2.0—now with voice activated response. If you recall…Daniel Google came to us approximately 5 years ago when we were on the road, and began asking questions like, “I wonder if this restaurant is open?” Or “Do you think this road goes through?” And a small, confident voice rang out from the back seat with all the answers. “I’m pretty sure they are closed on Mondays,” or “It should go through.” Thus as frustration built, and “Google” kept getting it wrong, we would start to cry out, in jest, “DAMN YOU GOOGLE!” But then realized that is probably among the top 10 things to not do as a parent, and so we changed “Damn You” to “Daniel” and thus our child, Daniel Google, was born. Now, just as there have been advancements in Daniel Google’s age, technology did not stand still either, so we now are able to use Daniel Google much more like “Alexa.” This has bec...

November 9, 2017 Dear Todd,  So as you know, since I was not home at the time, (ahem) the crossbow tooth-launch was a huge success. Which meant, the tooth fairy had to come. However, a rush from such an activity—the adrenaline, the thrill of success cannot be quelled by “Hey it’s 10 o’clock. Get to bed.” And I cannot stay awake past 10:15pm anymore. Apparently. So, it looked to be a recipe for huge TF failure. (“Tooth Fairy”) So, I was pleasantly surprised to be woken up by the dog at 2:30am—perfect fairy time. And as I tiptoed into our youngest’s bedroom, I was reminded, once again, that I am my own worst enemy. Days earlier I came up with the brilliant idea to place a “displaced futon mattress ” under his bunk/desk. It made an excellent little reading nook and I felt pretty good about myself. It just fit. Wedged up against his desk chair. Perpendicular to his upper bunk, with a little cubby under the desk. What this meant for the “not so small,” ...

November 8th, 2017 Dear Todd, Communication with our eldest has reached Egyptian Proportions. Meaning everything is a 👍 or a 😳 or a 🤔🙄😝🙌🏻😜🤣😘 And oftentimes its just an animated gif of shock or exhaustion. It’s fine. I find that it doesn’t leave room for any “tone” or miscommunication. Though he may require speech therapy at some point or some sort of “jaw fitness” class due to the lack of oral sounds emitting from his body. In news from the other side of the hallway...our youngest just went into his room with floss tied around his loose tooth. The other end of the string is attached to an arrow that he has loaded in his crossbow. 😬😳

November 1st, 2017 Dear Todd, We are officially back in the madness of incomplete conversations mixed with the bombardment of information---you know...just like the toddler years. Only the information we are receiving now is much more than an introduction to stuffed animals "Chi Chi and Hearty," or a request to "Come here" or simply a declaration like "Poop!" For example...this afternoon...picture a house with 3 people ranging from 55"-61". They move throughout the space sometimes talking when near, sometimes commenting randomly from afar. After entering through the garage I was met by our youngest--almost nose to nose. J: Mom! Me: Yup? (Middle interjects) R:Hey, I was going to ask her something first. J: I didn't know that. R: Yes, you did because I said, when Mommy comes in I'm going to ask her about my homework. J: Well, I'm asking her something and then you can. (I wanted to say, actually nobody is asking me anythi...

October 30th, 2017 Dear Todd, Turning the corner to middle school this morning, our son groaned as he looked at the clock in the car. And my inner Ally McBeal turned my face into giant teeth and I ate his head. What I said though was, "I think I've mentioned we need at least 20 minutes to get to school." To which he replied, "I was ready and in the car at 7:39." I then decided to play the "attorney" side of Ally...and replayed our morning for the plaintiff... "May it please the court, the Plaintiff freaked out when I said, 'It's 7:38' while he was tying his shoes. I believe his words were, 'Shoot! I thought it said '28.' And then I recall a request to grab his lunch out of the fridge, upon which I discovered there was not one. And while I internally struggled with whether to let him starve today as a natural consequence or take pity on him because of all the hardwork he put into the Red Blood Cell presentation that h...

October 31, 2017 Dear Todd, How can one holiday go from magical, and fun, and a personal favorite to exhausted, stress-filled bullshit? It's not a riddle. It's parenting. It's several things... (1) the double costume hell of the "dress like your favorite literary character" at school coupled with, "But for REAL Halloween I wanna be a psycho clown killer riding on a T-Rex." (2) The the "My friends are Trick or Treating over there and I'm not invited, and I don't want to Trick or Treat with the little (only by 23 months) kids." (3) The problem-solving of how to make a teenager feel "big" only to finally come up with a solution  and get squashed by the, "Oh I am invited!" And then there were 2. (4) A nice invite from the youngest's group "Does he want to go with the kids in this group?" (5)And then an invite for the middle, "We'd love to have her in our neighborhood."   ALL G...

Oct 26, 2017 Dear Todd, Last night, between the hours of 5-9, our daughter rolled through what would otherwise appear to be some sort of emotional drug withdrawal were she not 12. The 0-60 shift from REM’s “Shiny Happy People” to Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” was really impressive. And not one narcotic was involved. The first “trigger” was signing up for Rock Climbing Club. Now, I’m sure you are thinking, “Well duh...she is wary of new experiences.” But, no no...this spectacular meltdown was rooted in signing her name. Not what she was authorizing, but the actual signature. I believe we launched with “My handwriting stinks!” And gradually escalated to “I hate my name!”  Admittedly, I did not see this one coming and just kept trying to talk her off the ledge. She was pretty sure she had the ugliest name to write when I was saved by the boys wrestling—something I never thought I’d say—and had to take them over to the high school. When I returned, she was dancing in the k...

October 25th, 2017 Dear Todd I’ve had a hard time keeping track of what’s happening day to day and haven’t written in a while. The world seems to be crumbling all around us and so I’ve just been moving through it lately—trying to keep our (not so) little people alive and kind. But, tonight I got a reminder of the stage of life in our home. It’s a swirl of homework, chores, reluctance, someone feeling left out at school, someone feeling included for once, struggling to get to sleep and then releasing all tension and breaking into tears of laughter as our 13yr old recounts a moment in his English class. The student meant to write “I was wrapped into the darkness....and upstairs was an attic...that had a fiberglass witch inside.”  But due to having a desire for language mixed with an inability to spell...read, “I was raped into the darkness...and upstairs was an addict with a fiberglass witch inside.”  Clearly a very different story.

May 1st, 2017 Dear Todd, Forgive me, it has been 4 months (120 days approximately) since my last entry. During that time, I have gotten doughy and lazy while struggling to find a sense of purpose. In case you are wondering, the answer is "Yes, everything I just said is counterproductive." Well...not totally...I've been very productive in the doughy and lazy just not so much in the quest for purpose. See...I've discovered that there comes a time in every stay-at-home mom's life where she realizes that the world DID IN FACT KEEP ON SPINNING while she was buried in markers, vomit, diapers, loud plastic musical toys and unusual rashes. Kids she once babysat have their PhDs. The 4th graders  from 1992 aren't hiring at their multi-million dollar company. But I digress...the point is I gladly chose, and was fortunate enough to be able to choose, to stay home with the littles and to try to direct them towards being good citizens and community members.  I do not ...

January 31st, 2017 Dear Todd, These are facinating times. To say the least. And it's hard to teach the kids the right message sometimes. I can only imagine the various conversations between spouses around the country and our world.  And what is interesting, and I could be wrong, is that I imagine that all the conversations in other countries involve spouses on the same page. Agreeing with each other.  And homes all on the same page. Here, in the US, there are mixtures of the Sneetches with "stars upon thars" and the ones without.  And there are even households with one "Star-Bellied Sneetch" and "One Non-Star Sneetch."  Friends who had no idea they didn't have a star on their belly until this whole political shakedown. As for me I believe in the potential of all Sneetches to be amazing---with or without Stars. There are a lot of us, I think that believe this.  So why are we here? In this mess?  And why do some of us feel the need to prote...

January 22nd, 2017 Dear Todd, I am longing to communicate and have never felt so stifled by the deconstruction of language. So...I'm gonna apologize first as I begin to write without it.... Firstly...I'm ubertastically overwhelmed and in awe of the marches that took place around the world standing up for what people want for their/our country.  Restores faith in mankind. GRATEFUL FOR WHERE WE LIVE AND THE OTHER COUNTRIES THAT UNITED. On a smaller, more intimate scale, I'm also greatfullytastic about the moment in which Viggo Mortensen edjumacated our two youngest on the topic of sex ed.  True story.  It was a brief moment in the movie Captain Fantastic when one of his kid's asks and he answers (just as our two youngest enter the room) "The boy puts his penis in the girl's vagina and sperm comes out and fertilizes an egg and that is how babies are made." Bigly informative. Our children's eyeballs stretched out beyond the surface of their face...

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...

With apologies to Margaret Wise Brown November 19th, 2016 Dear Todd, Ode to Aden... In the great tan space There was a poster And an illustrated face 
 And a sculpture of- An AT AT on a shelf in its place 
And there were three little crafts A boat, a car, a raft And two wrestling awards 
And two school poster boards 
And two Lego Star Wars Ships 
And a bag from some Potato Chips 
And a laptop and two speakers and a pair of smelly sneakers And an 80lb Aussie who was snoring and bossy Goodnight space
 Goodnight face
 Goodnight AT AT on a shelf in its place Goodnight crafts
 And the wrestling awards
 Goodnight Ships
 Goodnight Chips
 Goodnight speaker
 And goodnight sneakers
 Goodnight Aussie 
And goodnight saxophone
 That was one day played
 And goodnight photograph that needs to be framed
 Goodnight stuffed koala bear
 who you called "Kalupticus." Goodnight Star Wars blanket
 Made with love from all of us
 And goodnight to the childish...

November 17th, 2016 Dear Todd, Yesterday was one of those days when our native languages failed us and the result was me wishing all my fingers could turn into the middle one and I could angrily wave Jazz hands at you, and you clearly wishing you could ball me up into a reasonably tight package and drop kick me through the roof. Let this be a message to those who are dating...seize the opportunity to go back to your own place while you can. Or if you've decided to go for the "long haul," practice being stuck in each other's space knowing that even if you leave, you have to come back. Unless you wanted to get a hotel---but then you are just spending more of "both" of your money which is destined to cause another battle down the road, when clearly you could've just come home--after all Timmy needs braces and plays for a traveling baseball team. Unless, of course, you are being beaten/abused. Then get the hotel. Preferably in a different state.  And u...

November 14th, 2016 Dear Todd, I haven't been able to write in a while---there's been a couple things on my mind. I think I need to get it out in order to remove this "block." Things like: 1. How will our 7th grader's wrestling season go? Will we all be miserable, or will it be a year of triumph and victory so sweet that nothing could strip that joy? 2. White Supremacy 3. How to recover our daughter's original story that she worked on for weeks only to have it saved under the same name and "replaced." 4. Racism 5. How to re-stitch an original stuffed animal creation to make it stand upright and be more symmetrical. 6. Safety Pins 7. How to get the leaves out of the gutter with a short ladder. 8. Wanting to give this President a chance, and have ALL acts of violence and cruel treatment of humanity disappear and not be linked to acts of enthusiasm by some of those who "won." 9. Wanting to actually have a neatly folded ...