girls on the edge

Don’t get me wrong, I am all about the girl power.  Brave girls – woo hoo!  Strong women – woo hoo!  Sisters in arms, we march forward into the world ready to leave our mark.  Stand up and stand out, ladies!

With that being said there’s a whole lot of estrogen floating around here, and some days it seems that hormone has become a combustible force.  Then if Bear and I cap out at the same time?  Well, the result sounds a bit like clash of the Titans.


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misdemeanors, consequences, and The Meanest Parents EVER

I hate to break it to all you moms and dads out there, but last month’s head to head landed us squarely as frontrunners for The Meanest Parents EVER award.

Yep.  I’m already ordering the t-shirts.

Life is so crazy these days that I can’t even remember the exact transgression leading up to our little come to Jesus meeting in the family room.  It could have been end of day drama or time to come in the house drama or general discontent drama…whatever the cause, it resulted in a particular Tone coming out of T-man’s mouth that I find rather objectionable.

I know, I know.  “Tone” is what some might call a highly subjective, not easily quantifiable transgression.  And I suppose I would agree that it’s difficult to discipline for Tone, if we hadn’t specifically discussed this issue with T-man on several occasions.

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take a peek, part 4

Time for another peek inside my head.  It can get a little squirrelly in there (don’t believe me? you can check out “take a peek, part 2” here)…just hang on for the ride.

This one will be full on rant.

So I know the mother bond is supposed to be life changing.  A birthmother’s strength in sacrifice, an adoptive mother’s steadfast love…two women coming together to create a life for a child that rings strong and true.  When you look at it that way the whole thing sounds rather kumbaya.

Man, real life can get messy.

Because you know what tips me over the cliff in a heartbeat?  I mean something that rates a blood boiling, heart rate accelerating, steam rising from my head sort of response?

When T-man’s birthmother questions my motives or decisions while raising this child.

It’s all well and good to have your own life stuff going on – don’t we all? – but you have for real got to separate that shit out from the relationship we are working so hard to maintain here.

Just like I have no idea what it’s like to walk in her shoes, she has absolutely no idea what it’s like to parent this child.  To be there for him, day after day, no matter what he throws at me.  To double down when I’m ready to give up because this parenting thing can be so freaking hard and nobody can prepare you for the endless grind of it all.

That parenting a child is nothing like childbirth.  Bringing a baby into this world is full of highs and lows and God knows what else, but raising up a human being can be an in the trenches, gunfire blazing, waiting for the next bomb to drop sort of experience that rolls right over you. And all you can do is bob to the top to wait for the next wave.

So don’t tell me I’m being selfish or on a power trip or we’ve used you or whatever other bullshit you’re peddling today.  I’ve got my hands full here and don’t have time to teach you how to disagree respectfully.

I don’t need kumbaya…but I do need an adult relationship.

And that’s my peek for today.

boys and girls and the endless dance

Throughout all of history boys and girls have been caught in this dance.  There were probably cave moms who listened to their sons moan and groan about the cave girl across the way who was so mean to them.

Boys.  And girls.  And drama.

It’s the classic formula.

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“We had just had a parenting night from hell.”

This is so hard…

If it isn’t hard, maybe we aren’t doing it right? my husband said quietly in my ear.

I let his words sink in.  Because too often I believe the lie that says if we were doing this parenting thing right, we wouldn’t fight or disagree or battle over opinions and attitudes.  We wouldn’t hurt each other.  We would be normal.  We would do this better.”

Every parent knows this sinking feeling of why is this so HARD?!  Here’s one who wasn’t afraid to write about it.

Parenting is Hard. Especially When You’re Doing It Right. – We are THAT family.

customer service is a two-way street

All my life I’ve heard people going on about “Everything changes in your forties” and “You’ll gain a whole new perspective once you reach middle age.”  Women in their forties got all the love…apparently the fourth decade of life was the equivalent of hitting the cosmic jackpot.

Well, okay, maybe all my life is a bit of a stretch, because who’s really thinking about their forties when you’re just trying to figure out how to score some wine coolers on a Friday night?  But I digress.

It would be fair to say that I started coming across this concept fairly regularly once I hit my late twenties, though.  In magazines, on talk shows – everyone was bragging about how wise you got at forty, how you gained a clarity that suddenly made life all namaste.

In my twenties and thirties it pretty much sounded like a load of crap that middle-aged women told themselves so they wouldn’t be bummed about turning forty.  But here I am, blogging away at the ripe old age of 44, and I can say without reservation that it wasn’t a crock.  I’ll be damned if every word of it didn’t turn out to be true: I’m definitely more confident, and I’ve gained a remarkable clarity when it comes to the world around me.

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the come-to-Jesus meeting

It turns out parenting is a living, breathing entity: capable of change but also subject to rearing its ugly head on occasion.

Over the last six or so months my perspective has evolved so that the term “child rearing” is a bit like a puzzle piece that no longer fits.  Rearing up the children, so to speak, implies that I (in my infinite wisdom) shall lay down the path upon which our children will Journey Into Responsible Adulthood.  (I just heard that phrase in Morgan Freeman’s booming voice.  Anyone else?)

Turns out, not so much.  I don’t mean that we’re not trying to guide the kids as they grow and learn; I’m still working fiercely to instill every single girl lesson it took me forty years to learn on Bear’s impressionable mind.  But this has become more of a two-way street.  I’m using my life experience to teach the kids, yet I find myself learning from them, too.

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normally I’d be ALL ABOUT following directions, but…

We had one stellar example of GIRL DRAAAA-MAAAAA this week.

It’s been a bit of a rocky start to school.  Bear’s allergies have kicked up several notches so she’s not on her A-game.  Stuffiness and a sore throat have made her slightly more miserable, so I know she’s not getting good sleep either.

All of that combined with a 6:00am alarm that’s For Real and we’ve got the perfect recipe for disaster.

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