Well, we're back in school -- and this transition is harder than a few others. The move from middle to high school, from parochial to public, has been full of drama.
Facebook alarums -- breakups with new friends. Seeing the DQ at the mall with two boys her friend Dawn knows -- one a high school grad who introduced himself to me as "Rson." Her dad and I need to have a little talk about kids who hang out on Friday nites at the Exton Square Mall.
Mr. C appears to be doing OK as he goes from elementary to middle school, although his new school is vast compared to his old one acrorss the street. He has some interesting teachers and some people he knows from his old school -- not to mention the chess nerds. Well, we still go running and walking there -- and cut through it to get ice cream at the sole store in "downtown" Glenmoore.
Right now, with my own projects, there' s not a lot of time to post on the blog. But be watching for a new feature -- hopefully in a few weeks.
I hope your summer to fall transitions are going more smoothly. Happy Labor Day!
samedi, septembre 05, 2009
lundi, août 31, 2009
Love bites
It's only recently that I've felt that parenting requires significant self-sacrifice. As she gets into the teens, the DQ disputes pretty much everything.
Apparently, in spite of the pizzas and taquitos crammed into our freezer, the chocolate milk and cookies and candy and covered raisins, our food is way too "healthy."
I guess she can't forgive me for buying tofu pot pies and hiding the goat cheese in the feta in her salad last week.
All of her new friends have relationships. Just because you didn't have one when YOU were 14 doesn't mean I shouldn't, she said. In the same breath, however, she told me she never wanted to have sex.
So I think we're alright for now.
She doesn't read for kicks. When she does, it isn't Regency romances, but vampire novels.
She doesn't exercise away stress. She doesn't seem to be turned on by ideas, as I was at her age.
Sometimes negotiating our differences is painful, exhausting, tearful. And sometimes we just agree to disagree, and move on, knowing how much under all of this we still need each other.
Apparently, in spite of the pizzas and taquitos crammed into our freezer, the chocolate milk and cookies and candy and covered raisins, our food is way too "healthy."
I guess she can't forgive me for buying tofu pot pies and hiding the goat cheese in the feta in her salad last week.
All of her new friends have relationships. Just because you didn't have one when YOU were 14 doesn't mean I shouldn't, she said. In the same breath, however, she told me she never wanted to have sex.
So I think we're alright for now.
She doesn't read for kicks. When she does, it isn't Regency romances, but vampire novels.
She doesn't exercise away stress. She doesn't seem to be turned on by ideas, as I was at her age.
Sometimes negotiating our differences is painful, exhausting, tearful. And sometimes we just agree to disagree, and move on, knowing how much under all of this we still need each other.
dimanche, août 30, 2009
Ch ch ch changes
Sorry I've been absent for a while. We've had a few melodramas around our home.
One involves estate taxes -- but I can leave a lot of that to the lawyers (who ever thought I'd say THAT?) And the other involves the DQ's transition to a new school -- where apparently there are "scenes" (she's a scene, into heavy metal and colorful expensive sneakers) and "emos" (no purpose in life? dress mostly in black), lots of folks talk "gangster" and everybody has been in a relationship, whether hetero, gay or bisexual. She's been having tummy problems. On the positive side, she likes her new school and her new friends.
Peer pressure -- whether she's feeling it or putting the chains around her neck herself, is a scary thing. Somehow I don't think my son feels it -- but he's found his chess nerd niche for the nonce.
"You don't like labels, do you Mom" asked my daughter as I was telling her preppies aren't totally bad. Got it, baby.
So I'm back in the role of supervisor, scanning the internet, talking to parents, checking out her friends and her friends parents -- all the while knowing that the control I have is getting more limited. She's not the only one feeling the stress.
One involves estate taxes -- but I can leave a lot of that to the lawyers (who ever thought I'd say THAT?) And the other involves the DQ's transition to a new school -- where apparently there are "scenes" (she's a scene, into heavy metal and colorful expensive sneakers) and "emos" (no purpose in life? dress mostly in black), lots of folks talk "gangster" and everybody has been in a relationship, whether hetero, gay or bisexual. She's been having tummy problems. On the positive side, she likes her new school and her new friends.
Peer pressure -- whether she's feeling it or putting the chains around her neck herself, is a scary thing. Somehow I don't think my son feels it -- but he's found his chess nerd niche for the nonce.
"You don't like labels, do you Mom" asked my daughter as I was telling her preppies aren't totally bad. Got it, baby.
So I'm back in the role of supervisor, scanning the internet, talking to parents, checking out her friends and her friends parents -- all the while knowing that the control I have is getting more limited. She's not the only one feeling the stress.
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