It’s funny how a day can go from being sort-of great to so epically horrible in just a matter of 5 minutes. So with that in mind, bear with me while I blog about nothing in particular.
Netflix on the Wii stopped playing “Signs.”
Merrick ripped a book from the library again tonight. Last time that happened, we were $16.00 poorer and we became the proud owners of a really stupid book. Thank you son. I can’t wait to read “Super Snow Day: Seek and Find” 4 times each night for the next 6 weeks.
Mia slept in a million little braids last night so that her hair would be crimped this morning when she took them out. Now that she’s rocked that hairstyle, she’s kicking it up a notch by wearing the braids themselves to school tomorrow. Please note that I lost control over her fashion choices over a year ago; also, I am not man enough to say no to her when she sets her little jaw and gets an idea into her head. (“Mom, you can braid my hair again, right?”) I’m sure we will have issues in her teen years.
Speaking of that, at the tender age of 14, Cheyenne is indeed in full-force teen mode. She’s had the same boyfriend now for about 2 months, which, as you all know, is quite long in teen-time. I’m not so sure I like that, but what do you do? I mean, besides not let her car-date and put bars on her windows and take away texting and set an 8:00 p.m. limit on phone calls? If I had nothing better to do I’d eat lunch with her at school and stalk her all day, making sure there’s nothing more than hand-holding going on in the hallways betwen classes. My mom waaaaay should have done that with me.
She’s definitely not loving the ‘rents lately, I will tell you that. And it’s hard to keep my composure in the face of all this teenage angst. Super-duper hard. I always thought that because I was so young when I had her, that once she hit this age, we’d be tight, and I’d be the most awesome mom on the planet in her eyes. Not so. We have our moments, but since I am also mom to two (much) littler kids, I don’t think I’m coming off as cool as I thought I’d be. But I’ve got it good, compared to Caleb, who, unfortunately, gets the brunt of her “fail” attitude–sometimes it seems that she will always think of him as her mean, old, fun-sucking stepdad. I’d love to fix that…but again–what do you do?
Well. At least my dogs are behaving.
This very minute.
I’ve been studying lately at church and some on my own The Beatitudes and The Sermon on the Mount…it’s so. so. so. hard to have patience and love and understanding when all I want to do is rage and scream and shake a teenage girl by the shoulders and punch a hole through a wall and drive my car into a tree.
I wonder if I would handle stress better if I bit my drinking cups.