The Teenager is Winning

"Mom, I am going to make mistakes, but they are MY mistakes, and you have to let me make them."

Was this statement coming out of my mouth, circa 1986, or from my daughter's last week??  Most likely both.  Last year I blogged about letting her make her own way and I actually believed I could do that.  I've grown negative and cynical since then.

What she doesn't realize (and I didn't either back then) is HER mistakes are MY mistakes.  No parent wants to be asked, "And how IS so-and-so?" when the only answer is "Um, she is doing fairly average in grades and doesn't have any other interests outside of the 4x2 inches of her iPhone screen."

We Moms and Dads LOVE Facebook bragging rights, Instagram nuggets, and general high marks for having a stellar kid.  These days in my house, its the kids who seem to care less if they are making a name for themselves.  "Passing" is good enough for my Lil Lady...that means if she's 70 or above she's sitting comfortably.  Whoa nelly, that dog don't bark in my house.

I get the daily eye-rolls, "O-KAY"s, and usual malaise in the attitude department from her, which I don't doubt is Standard Operation Procedure in Teen World.  I am well-aware (also via Facebook) that most teenagers are jerks.  They just are.  They demand time and attention and money and give pretty much nothing in return.  I used to be able to guilt her into feeling sorry for me when she was hitting the ugly-teen act hard, but those days are gone.  I admit I remember feeling very little compassion for my mom when she took the brunt of my hormonal rants, but now I am living the other side.  I feel like I'm watching a bully in action.

My boyfriend, Sinatra, lives at home with his two teenage boys, and a pre-teen daughter.  The daughter has her special moments but for the most part hasn't gone full-blown teen yet.  The boys are more of the passive-aggressive types, but at time are aggressive-aggressive with each other.  That's no fun for him to deal with either, but the psychological warfare I wage almost daily with Lil Lady is as mentally draining as is getting between two full-grown teen boys throwing punches.

Is it clear why we have chosen not to marry yet and combine our children into one home?

She wants to be left alone to "live her life".  I allow her to put herself to bed at night, meaning I don't regulate her bedtime.  She wants to ride to school with her friend or boyfriend instead of the bus, so oversleeping in the morning is not an option.  She also wants to look good at school so getting up and putting her outfit and hair together takes time, so she sets her alarm on her own.  She keeps up with her personal hygiene and for the most part puts her laundry down in the laundry room to be washed, and even puts in a load herself if no one is interested in helping.  She is doing better eating regularly and more healthy than she did last year, and even tries to get exercise most days.

But does she brush her teeth morning and night? Does she take out her contacts and clean them daily? These things actually wake me up in the middle of the night.  Of course I'm thinking of high dental bills and eyeballs with blisters, but she doesn't seem to have my worry gene.

Homework and studying seem to be an afterthought and her grades so far this year are hovering over a low B in most classes, but some end up C's from simply having an "M", for missing assignment.  Whaaaa??  She has no urgency to get things turned in until I'm screaming via text to her after checking the Home Access site, TURN IN YOUR WORLD HISTORY ASSIGNMENT OR YOU WILL FAIL THIS GRADE PERIOD FROM SHEER LAZINESS!!!

She rarely responds to my during-school texts.

She'll tell me she doesn't know what to do on an assignment or when its due, and I must force her to email her teacher even though I want so badly to type out a diplomatically-worded and grammatically-correct letter, asking for details about classwork.  What job in life will let you turn in stuff late and still receive full credit?  What working person does this on a regular basis and keeps their job?

But then I am a nag and a bitch for constantly lecturing her.

Any other person in my life who would take this much of my brain power and emotional energy and stomp all over them, I would've cut them out a long time ago.

I divorced for less.

But she is my blood, and therefore a reflection of me, so I continue to be that mom.

I may have to rename my blog InsaneAsylumHereICome because she's still around for at least 3 years, and I have another one, Chillgirl, coming up right behind her.  Chillgirl thankfully does not take acts of Rebellion to the level of Art (so far).  She really is "chill", but that does manifest itself in a bit of passive-aggressiveness..."I'm mad at Mom, so I will move as slow as Christmas when she's in a hurry".  Thank the Lord for creating red wine.

I talk to myself a lot, and to God, and ask for patience and perseverance.  My girls may challenge me but I keep telling myself they only do it because they know my love knows no bounds.

I want to make the home her friends want to come to, I want to have open dialogue with them, and know the kids they hang out with.  I want to be who they come to when no one else cares about their problems.  So far these things are still within my reach.  I may pry and snoop to stay in the loop.  I will fight through the trenches of the bad stuff to be there.

I'm a Lucky Mom

Moments of magic mother-daughter bliss may be few over these next 5 years, but they are so worth the trouble.

Who DOES this?? Costa Rican Paradise Revisited

Certainly not a 42 year-old mother of two at mid-life, working full-time as the sole provider for her family, all the while keeping up with new-school-year preparations and extra-curricular activities. Wait, yes with all that, THIS vacation was just what the doctor ordered.

That smile is for reals...during a walk through a rain forest on my way to a natural waterfall.









Since my trip to Costa Rica two years ago, I remembered the lush green all-naturale views of the countryside and the dirty brown rivers with crocs lounging on the banks. The humid air with a seaside smell, the native Costa Ricans walking or riding bikes alongside the roads as our driver Juan Carlos hurled our van down the road without regard for the painted middle lines or speed limit signs. These things were the same, but no less thrilling to experience again.

                       Our home for the week. No, this isn't a postcard~ I walked out of the house to this!

I don't know if it was because I was with my Sinatra, or my bestest work-friends, or because it was a bit longer than last time, but this trip opened my eyes to so much more beauty and appreciation in Costa Rica. I breathed in the salty air more. I looked around and took mental snapshots, as well as literal snapshots, of every gorgeous scene.

 We weren't exactly laying around getting sand in our shorts however. Day one brought on a gondola ride up a severe mountain with nothing but deep forest greenery for miles...only to zipline down that same mountain on thousands of feet of wire, hanging over the waterfalls and streams and treetops.

Strapped in and ready....

                                                                        

Soar Woman!

Sore abs aside, we ended the day with a scrumptious meal of sesame tuna and fried plantains cooked by our chef Carlos, and a rousing game of Yahtzee with my housemates.  Yeah, throw in a few Coronas and Imperials, and a shot of Patron with my sweetie, and it was a damn good day.

Day two was an all-day nautical affair. A 2-hour boat ride on a yacht with a group to La Isla Tortuga. Yes, Turtle Island. Yes, we saw a few majestic sea turtles as well as a couple of whales peeking out along the ride. But that was just the ride out.

                                                                   Clearly I'm jazzed


We arrived at the small beach off the island and immediately were wisked off to an even smaller island to snorkel. Quite lovely, swimming with the fishies. Then back to the beach to eat lunch and relax.

                                                                      Fantasy island

I slept in a beach chair to the sound of the waves, I played in the surf with my friends' two 11 year olds, I lost my sunglasses in the surf (waht-wahhh), I spoke with colorful parrots and inhaled the boat captain's BBQ chicken, veggies and rice.  All things relaxing.  I watched the clouds roll in and worried a storm might catch us on the ride back, and then I kept my eyes closed to ward off the nausea as I dozed next to Sinatra on the bumpy boatride back.  I was grateful the pouring rain only let loose as we climbed into the van for our ride back to the house.

A shower and more relaxing later, we were made more yummy cooking, shrimp pasta, and Yahtzee into the evening. I think I went to bed early that night, since my sense of time was all vacation-y, so it didn't really matter.

Day three was a bit lazier, but began with a 2-hour ATV drive up in the mountains. I was given my own to drive and wasn't sure I knew what I was doing, but managed just fine. With the day before's rain, it was muddy but thankfully only puddles to ride through.

At the top of the mountain was a little cafe with a little lady cooking little empanadas that were the real deal. The tour guide suddenly started chopping some huge sugar cane sticks and had us work a grinder to make sugar cane juice. Random, but really cool.

Working it!

Do these greens exist in the crayola box?

                                          We made it back to the house with plenty of time to play on the beach out front...Sinatra and I boogieboarded, and got completely water-logged, but loved every minute of it.

We look so professional, no?

Day three's evening was something of a treat.  Our driver Juan Carlos invited us to Mass at his church, which was held on this Wednesday because it was Mother's Day in Costa Rica.  All of us sunburned Americans file into this open air Catholic church and were blessed to witness a Spanish Mass, with pure loud singers and even un perro (dog) walking through in front of the altar during.  The rain began to hit the metal roof which gave the air a cool wet feeling, and it was really something special.

This was taken after Mass, where I understood only 5% of what was being said

Then dinner at a local restaurant where I ate octopus and fried rice...the octopus was like really...octopus-y, but once I ignored the little tentacles on the meat, strangely, I liked it.

Day Four was really my favorite.  We had Juan Carlos drive us an hour and a half outside of town to a woman's untouched property.  It took so long because the road we rode on was brutal with rocks and pits and we had to go really slooooww.  We paid four colones a piece for her to allow us to hike through her property.  It was muddy, it was hot, there was heavy brush which I had no idea if little creatures would pop out of, and it was treacherous walking.  We slipped and slid and got muddy, would cross a creek and rinse off, then on to more mud and fun.  Juan Carlos knew the way and finally we arrived at the end.  A three-pool waterfall, "Tres Piscinas", completely hidden in the forest and naturally flowing huge gobs of water.  I was tentative at first.  Got in the first pool and braved it.

I'm not mad here, just am being pummeled

We saw some local boys up at the third tier crawling around and some of my friends started walking up the muddy hillside to go up there...Juan Carlos in his flip-flops took the easy route up the rocks.  I decided I could do that.  I'd rock-climbed before, you know, at the ballpark or amusement park.  This was just the same except it was real rock, real water, and moss stuff everywhere.  I did it anyway.  Then Sinatra followed.  He ended up going to the next level where the boys were, climbing in his bare feet.  My treaded hiking shoes had an easier job on the slick rock but it was still a scary climb.  The local boys began to jump off the top pool into the second one.  Huh. That looks fun.  I was already up there.  Why not?

             Sinatra turned into George of the Jungle somehow....was it to keep up with me, Jane, here?

I was the first estupido American to jump.  The locals assured me, in Spanish so really who knows what they were saying, that I was fine if I just jumped out from the edge, to avoid rocks near the waterfall.  Sinatra followed. The two 11 year olds with us did as well.  My adrenaline was running high but I used it to climb down the slick rocks and wait for Sinatra, while he did another jump, just to tempt fate.  He met me on the rocks and we shared a precious moment.  High on adrenaline, we sat down and took in the whole scene over the roar of the falls, and have this fabulous picture now:

                                Now my wallpaper on my laptop because this pic is freakin' RAD

After a picnic lunch on the rocks (sitting on them, not drinking them) we hiked back to the van all smiles and happiness, singing George of the Jungle and Gun's and Roses' Welcome to the Jungle...really a great experience.

Sinatra and I came away from this trip with Costa Rica's slogan of "Pura Vida!", or pure living, as our new mantra.  Yes we have busy lives and kids needing things and work to do, but when it all becomes too much, we have to take a minute and remember nature's beauty, happy Costa Rican's simple lifestyles, and the sound and smell of the ocean.

                                                                    Pura Vida, ya'll

Lessons For Them

I go work 8 hours every weekday.
For them.

I get up early in the morning to work out. For them.

I stop by the store on the way home, even when I'm tired. For them.

I struggle to find dinner creations that two girls will like. For them.

I take walks with the dogs and invite the girls to walk with us. For them.

I clean crumbs out of my bed because Chillgirl loves to curl up there and watch TV while munching on snacks. For her.

I buy electronics that they can't live without when we should probably be talking to each other more.
For them.

I discuss school projects, homework, and our crazy schedules with the girls in the car while we rush from place to place. For them.

I hide the lack of responsibility their dad displays on a regular basis so they will respect him. For them.

I referee vicious fights between the two girls so they will continue to love each other. For them.

I train with my tri buddies and take swim classes and compete in races. For them.

I chose to let a man into my life who understands children and loves mine, flaws and all. For them.

I may yell and want to run outside when frustrated with their behavior, but apologize and talk it out after my blood pressure returns to normal. For them.

I own and take care of my house and yards. For them.

I nod quietly and listen when Lil Lady starts to share her teenager drama between her and her friends.
For her.

I coach Chillgirl and have done so for Lil Lady in volleyball because I love the game and love to watch them love it too. For them.

I take adult-only vacations to unwind and act like a kid again. For them(me).

I force them to go to church lessons and Mass, so they will have a basis for their future relationships with God. For them.

I try to preserve a family attitude of "Let's stick together" so they won't feel the pain of divorce and not know how to create their own families. For them.

I explain to them that as women, they should value themselves above their men, and chose men who add to their lives, not who will become their lives. For them.

I forgive my girls when they aren't grateful or expect me to "be there" without asking if its convenient for me to do so. For them.

I recognize and appreciate that my children feel at home with me, more than anywhere else in the world, which is an indication I'm doing something right.

 For me.