Be careful with passwords...

Sonny Boy, Princess, and I are all on Facebook. My mom (Goggy) is as well. The kids can be on Facebook as long as I am their friend. They are also friends with their Goggy and other assorted family friends. Sonny Boy has a habit of asking the computer to remember him and his password, even when he is at his Grandparents' home. Goggy has had a devil of a time trying to get the computer to remember her, and not Sonny Boy, when she logs on to Facebook. So - she decided she would just be Sonny Boy yesterday, and wrote on his status - "Sonny Boy is listening to the Jonas Brothers."

One of the best laughs I have had in a while....

I live with three piggies

Yes, I live with three piggies. These people are eating me out of house and home. One would expect that from teenage Sonny Boy. Yet, tiny (but out of this world metabolism) little gymnast Princess out eats him most days. And how does a 54 year old man keep eating like he is half his age and not gain weight? It blows my mind.

Mom was down the other day and she is always kind enough to cook when she visits. Any cooking or cleaning is always greatly appreciated. She made a large pot of mashed potatoes, and full skillet of green beans, bread, and a huge crockpot of 10 chicken breasts with cream soup. Princess had 3rds that night. Sonny Boy and Hubby had huge heaping plates. Mom thought it would last for a couple days for leftovers - yeah, right. The last of it was in tupperware last night about 9:30 when I went to bed. I was in bed, sound machine going, lights out, thinking about my favorite tennis shot. Hubby comes in and says he just needs to get some socks. He leaves. He is back in a few minutes for something else, and then starts discussing what final present we should get Princess for Christmas. I also remind him he has less than 24 hours to give me a viable suggestion of what he wants or he has no say-so. He keeps talking, but at least the lights were out and he couldn't see that I was ignoring him, had my eyes closed, and was trying to sleep.

Our bedroom door was open, and the hall light was turned on. Then Sonny Boy is in the room, turning on the overhead light, and holding the tupperware with the last part of the leftover chicken. He asks if he can have it. "Go away, both of you!" I say. Then Hubby says, "No, that's my lunch for tomorrow." "But I'm starving and there is nothing to eat in this house!" (even though the pantry, cabinets, freezer and refrigerator are all full) They continue to stand beside my bed, lights on, pulling the tupperware between them and arguing over who can eat it. It's 10pm by now.

"Both of you go away now! I don't care what you eat - just turn out the light, close the door and let me go to sleep!!"

My life...

Alternate Life?

Sonny Boy has really been on it lately. He feels he is not meant to be an average teenage boy living in the Southern flatlands. He is meant to live in the mountains with snow from October - May. He is in reality a cool snowboarding dude. Life is so unfair - if only his father and I would find jobs in some appropriate place, he could live the true snowboarding life. He could be the next Shaun White. He could have enough money that he could totally forget school, and then he could ship me off to Spain or Scotland so that I would totally stay out of his unruly hair. It's so unfair!

Life's not fair, I tell him. No need to mince words in the attempt to be a smothering mother. If my life had been different, I would be a globe traveling tennis commentator after a rather successful tennis career (consistent top 20 player), and Carlos Moya would be inviting me to come to Majorca with him.

Grimsley - Page game

Even though I still feel like a newbie to Gboro, I have heard of the intense Grimsley-Page high school rivalry. Hubby has taken Sonny Boy to the annual football games the past couple year. All four of us went Friday night in non-stop rain, wind, and greatly reduced temperatures from the day before. I was so grateful to the Booster moms who make sure they sell hot chocolate at those things.

The game was a bigger deal than I had envisioned. I know it's one of the biggest (if not the biggest) rivalries in the state. Even with the weather conditions, almost 5000 people were there. About a week before all parents had received a 3 page letter from the Principal detailing the events of Grimsley-Page week, and especially what was not tolerated. We also got the big automated call about the week. Friday morning (in the rain), Grimsley-Page alumni participated in the annual golf tournament. 280 participated and almost $30000 was raised, to be split between the two athletic departments. Wow. Scholarships were given as well.

I was an ice cube by the time I got home, even though I had dressed appropriately. Princess and I left a little early to go home and thaw out. Sonny Boy (who had insisted on only wearing his 2008 Grimsley-Page tshirt and a pair of shorts) came home a little after that. "I'm freezing!" He said. "Everyone thought I was an idiot!" I responded, "Well, do you think they were right?" (Before the game, I had tried my best to get him to at least wear a jacket - but you can't force a 14 year old who is bigger than you are to dress more appropriately). Sonny Boy just rolled his eyes and went straight to bed.

No one should be surprised that he was sneezing, coughing and congested over the weekend. And when he had to leave science class today to call a parent to pick him up because he now has a fever, his teacher said, "I'm not surprised. Saw you at that game Friday night."

Sure hope next year's game has better weather! And sure hope Sonny Boy might figure out that dressing appropriately for the weather might actually not be uncool.

The Family Name

School started on Tuesday. Princess began Middle School and Sonny Boy began High School. It turns out that one of Princess' teachers, Ms. M, was Sonny Boy's student teacher last year. Ms. M knew Sonny Boy for the wild boy he is and didn't let him by with much. He just knew Princess would not like her.

The Middle School has the mascot of the Tigers. When a student behaves well, they get "pawed," which is a gift certificate for a free drink at a local gas station. This is the conversation that centered around that fact after the second day of school.

Princess: Mom, I got pawed today! It was my second one.
Mom: Honey, that's great! I am so proud of you.
Sonny: (tearing into the living room from another part of the house) What? You got pawed twice and it's only the second day of school? Who pawed you?!
Princess: (grinning a knowing grin) Ms. M.
Sonny: What!!! She NEVER pawed me last year. In fact, I only got pawed once the entire year. You better cut this out. You're ruining the family name!!

Ahhh, siblings....

I am ancient

Sonny Boy had his last choral concert last night at the middle school. (That, in and of itself, is quite an entertaining story.) On the way home, we were discussing "the one hot girl in the school who is really nice." I finally figured out who she was last night.

"You know honey, you can always talk to me about any girl."

Big time eye roll.

"I'm serious. That's what moms are for."

Even bigger eye roll. "I'll talk to Dad. Not you!"

"Honey, it's great you want to talk with dad, but if you ever need a female perspective, remember that I work with teenage girls. And I was a teenage girl one time."

"Mom - that was last century!"

Technically, he's right.

Sonny Boy was right

On a fairly regular basis, Sonny Boy greets me at the end of the day with, "You won't believe what ridiculous thing they made us to at school today!" It is usually just normal school stuff, but Friday was different.

"Well, you know we have those stupid EOGs next week (for the uninitiated - End of Grade tests that the state (read - bunch of older white male lawyers) makes the schools give out to see if children should pass or not - because they seem to think that qualified, hard-working and underpaid teachers don't seem to know if a child should pass a grade or not; and also - why not make a little 3rd (or 5th or 8th) grader freak out and be unable to sleep because of sitting for 2 hours a day filling in circles on a scan card?)?
So - today, we had a pep rally for the EOGs. We all went to the football stadium and they tried to get us to chant "EOG!" and do the wave with EOG. Then they gave us all these tshirts that said "Rock the Test," and the teachers were laying on the field spelling out "Rock the Test" and then they tried to get us to chant "Rock the Test." But we all thought it was pretty stupid and just a few nerds were the only ones who did the chants a little bit."

After I stopped laughing, I responded, "You're right. That was ridiculous."

Mother's Day Poem

Here is the poem Sonny Boy wrote for me for Mother's Day. I have kept the spelling as is, and "pom" stands for pomengranate.

She is like the fruit, wonderful pom
but I just like to call her mom.
Sometimes she can be a bit of a hastle
but she is as great as a wonderful castle.
She is one of the greatest people alive
if she died I would stick my head in a beehive.
I love my mom and that's all I have to say
except Happy Mother's Day!

I hate Guitar Hero III

Sonny Boy is pretty good with money. He knows how to save for things he wants and how to find good deals. This is a feat most adults have not accomplished, so I'm quite proud of him. Today, he accomplished his goal of acquiring a used PS2 version of Guitar Hero III. For those without a teen, it is a video game where you hold a plastic guitar and follow the "chords"/color-coded keys while strumming a white switch at the same time when the screen indicates that color. It also tells you the duration to hold the color coded key.

GHIII has a number of songs from the hair bands of the '80s - my kind of music. When Sonny Boy's buddy, TC, was here today, I even bragged that I could "kick his behind" in GH. (Yes, I really did say that, and I was pleased that I substituted *&#! with behind - my competitive spirit is a bit much at times).

Turns out if you don't do the chords exactly right, the convicts at the concert start booing you. And if you miss enough notes in a row, they riot and your song is over. This has happened through five songs now - 4 '80s hair band rockers and The Killers' When You Were Young. I could understand why guitarists smash their guitars during a concert.

Plus the fact that my tendonitis (which so far is surviving a new tennis season) is now hurting once again. Guess I need to go get some gin soaked raisins and get my "behind" to bed.

Hot for Teacher

Sonny Boy and I had dinner together last night, and this is the conversation we had:

Sonny Boy: The really hot student teacher is back in Language Arts. She'll be there the rest of the year!

Mom: Really?

SB: Yeah! I kept raising my hand and participating a whole lot in class.

Mom: More than you normally you do?

SB: Oh yeah! Everyone was kinda laughing at me because they know I don't usually do that. And she even knows my name 'cause I was doing so good in class. She said she really likes to read and asked if I liked to read. And I said yeah I really like to read, even though everyone knows I can't stand it.

Mom: Yes, I know dear. You have told me that enough to fill a book by Tolstoy.

SB: So she asked me what my favorite book was and I told her To Kill a Mockingbird. She didn't know I had to read it for class last year.

Mom: Or that I had to explain much of it to you?

SB: (continuing to ignore me and grinning rather widely) She was real impressed that was my favorite book. I told her I really liked non-fiction, real type stories.

Mom: Why didn't you choose a different book that you've read?

SB: I know that would be the most impressive one!

Mom: Well, honey if this is what it takes to get you to put forth your best effort in school...

SB: Man, I wish all my teachers were so hot. I'd make straight As.

14 Years Ago

14 years ago I was in Mission Hospital in Asheville. I had been there since about 2am, when we thought Sonny Boy would be arriving in the next few hours. His beautiful round head, broad shoulders, and fat little baby body ensured that he did not actually arrive until the evening of the 13th. It was a Sunday - why am I always working on Sundays?

Hubby and I called my parents when we went to the hospital. They wanted to be there when their first grandchild arrived. My younger brother Jerry was supposed to take Granny to church that morning, and we would call when Caleb finally arrived on the scene.

For many hours, contractions kept coming about every 5 minutes. I was so into natural childbirth because I thought it was the best for my baby. If I ever did it again, I'd think - who cares! give me some drugs! - but that was then. So, Hubby and I kept walking around while I kept having contractions. We walked several times out to the lobby where my parents patiently waited. About mid-morning, I noticed Jerry and Granny had arrived. I turned to Mom, "I thought they were going to church." I then paused to have a contraction.

Neither Granny nor Jerry spoke to me, but Granny walked to Mom and said, "Jackie, give Amy some lipstick! I think it'd make her feel better."

What a nice memory.

Are you smarter than an 8th grader?

I apparently am not.

Last night I was walking up the stairs while Sonny Boy was walking down them. We decided to play chicken, and after a minute or so of dodging each other to get by and laughing, I said, "You may be taller than I am now, but I still weigh more!"

He responded, "Mom, that's nothing to brag about."

I let him by and popped him on the behind as he went down the stairs.

Awesome Voicemail Greeting

13 year old Sonny Boy's most recent voicemail greeting on his cell phone -

"Hey, you've reached Caleb. I'm not here and that really sucks for you because you miss out on my awesomeness. You still get to hear my awesome message. Leave a message and you can talk to my awesome self later."

Special Puberty Moment

Sonny Boy has spent the last couple weeks loudly complaining about the fuzz on his upper lip. Yes, it was starting to look something like a mustache - but it wasn't really that bad. Now, I know every boy is supposed to be given his first shaving lesson from dear old dad, but when the opportunity arises...

He kept complaining the other night when his Goggy (my Mom) was in town. So Goggy and I took him into the bathroom, pulled out my lavendar scented shave cream, and taught him how to shave his 'tache. He was pleased afterwards. Of course, one day he will realize that was not a cool moment and probably complain about the strong-willed women in his life.

Goggy and I had a pretty good laugh afterwards.

The Funniest

New quote from Sonny Boy:

"The funniest thing I ever heard was when I said..."

No self-confidence issues there...

Sweet Smell of Defeat

Loyal readers know I have been fascinated by Sonny Boy's wrestling this season - a sport beyond my comprehension. I missed his tournament last Saturday (Hubby was there), but here is a synopsis of a phone conversation:

Mom - How did this first match go, honey?
Sonny Boy - I lost.
M - Well I'm sure you did your best. You seem okay about it.
SB - I didn't get pinned until the last few seconds. I was wrestling a girl. (pause) She's hot.
M - Oh?
SB - Yeah - all the other guys on my team want to wrestle her too, but she's not in their weight class.
M- Well, I'm glad you got to wrestle her sweetie. Hope your other matches go better.

Breaking the Christmas Code

One of my childhood Christmas memories is the way my Mom would label Christmas gifts. Presents would be wrapped under a tree with a series of odd letters on them. For instance, a package of purple socks might have been wrapped for me with the label "BDOFCIPAIKIYFCT." These letters would stand for "Because Donny Osmond's favorite color is purple and I know it's your favorite color too." That way Mom knew the present was for me and not for my brother - even though Jerry and I had no clue whatsoever. Pretty good.

I have continued the tradition with my own twist. I usually put one word that reminds me of that particular child. One present under our tree is labeled "TIGHT" because Sonny Boy's wrestling uniform is tight. Another is labeled "RED" because Princess' Chinese name before she came home with us meant red, hot, popular. (Yes, we did choose a different Chinese name, because who wants a teenage daughter one day whose name means red, hot and popular?)

Princess started getting into making and wrapping presents last year. She decided to try her own codes. Well, this year she has trumped both Mom and me. She has been taking Chinese language all semester and her labels are written in Chinese characters. I only hope the package that smells like chocolate is for me.

Concert Etiquette

Last week, Sonny Boy's middle school had a Choral Concert. The flyer from the Chorus teacher listed the following rules for Concert Etiquette -

1. Refrain from talking. does this include the toddlers? and how can I keep my mouth shut with so much hilarity in front of me (intentional or not)?
2. Refrain from unwrapping noisy candy wrappers during the performance. I leaned over to my mom and whispered, does it count if the candy wrapper is not considered noisy?
3. Turn off all pagers, cell phones and watch alarms. I particularly liked the rap song ringer that went off during Calypso Gloria
4. Do not wave to your child during the concert. Can you point a finger and give him the evil eye if he's cutting up on stage?
5. Do not take flash photography. what if the flash accidentally goes off? those darned digital cameras are beyond most middle aged parents
6. Please do not walk down the center aisle with your video camera. Can you walk down the aisle just to get a loudly whispering child to the bathroom or water fountain?
7. Do not leave as soon as your child's portion of the concert is over. I pointed this out to my Mom as she did this, but she just gave me the evil eye (guess it runs in the family).
8. Applaud at appropriate times. huh?
9. Do not leave the concert during the music. guess this rules out #6
10. Go to the concert expecting the best. You bet - some of the best laughs I've had in a while!

Rasslin?

Sonny Boy has undertaken a new sport recently - wrestling. He joined the team a few weeks ago and had his first match yesterday afternoon. My knowledge of the wrestling world is quite limited. I had a little exposure in junior high when the wrestling coach made a point of saying "Rasslin!" continually. I knew they wore really tight outfits and rolled around on each other, but that was about it.

There are those moments when inherent gender differences seem to come to light. Yesterday was one of those moments. I sat with one of the other moms - as clueless as I was about the sport. We watched the boys in their little spandex getups rolling around all over each other, trying to pin the shoulder blades to the mat. It was just plain weird. And a little gross. But the boys love it. They won't ever hug each other, but they will be all over each other in little outfits for competition's sake.

I voiced my total support for Sonny Boy. I am proud of how hard he is working in this sport, and I am trying to learn the basic rules. Yet, I don't think I will ever quite get the love that males have for it. Just not made that way...

Obi Wan returns

Everyone who reads this blog knows that my Sonny Boy (age 13) thinks he is the coolest person around. Being so cool, when he needed a new jacket, it had to be a fleece hoodie from Old Navy. Supposedly, brown is the coolest color right now. So Sonny Boy is constantly to be seen in the brown hoodie, usually with the hood pulled up and hiding a good portion of his face.

Since I fancy myself something of a Lorelai Gilmore, I have taken to calling him Obi Wan. We were in the grocery store the other night and he was dragging behind, so I loudly called, "Hey Obi Wan, catch up!" I would not normally provide so much entertainment for the masses, but the opportunity to embarrass my kid was too great to resist.

Last night Obi and I went to a women's college bball game (my school versus a local one in Gboro). Not a big crowd, so Sonny Boy spotted his least favorite teacher from last year across the stands. I acted like we were going over to say hi at half time. The hood then came up and would not be removed. As we were leaving the gym later, I made sure to walk very quickly and was only about 2 feet behind said teacher. Obi was really dragging his feet and hanging his head under his hoodie, hoping she would not notice him. I had no intention of speaking to her (at one point last year I called her - not to her face - a dried up ol' prune) - but I had a blast freaking out Sonny Boy. He thinks his Obi Wan imitation saved him, but the Force was really with me and not the cool hoodie.