I'll Be Alright Without You

The last Social Studies test, the one I helped The Princess study for: 72%.

Yesterday's Social Studies test, the one I did NOT help The Princess study for: 87%.

My work here is done.

Landslide

As much as we're living in an electronic society, why did I just spend over an hour just sorting through the papers that have accumulated since last week? I believe the word I'm searching for is "detritus" -- debris, a product of destruction or wearing away.

Hmmmm. It's wearing away my sanity. And it's a product of the destruction wrought from two girls emptying out their book bags and folders from PSR and school; the junk mail and coupons and magazines (oh, I believe I bring that trouble on myself); and my lists -- the lists I make for myself every day.

I found bottom except for the need to buy stamps and pay a few more bills once Friday's pay day rolls around. Just too tired to pay them tonight and no need until later, anyway.

I just sent away for ANOTHER magazine subscription. And ordered TWO MORE from The Dictator's school sale. Every airline mile I've ever earned I've used to get magazines. Same for Husband's airline miles.

At least I do read most of them -- and recycle them. But I need to stop the landslide! Right after I read that new Martha Stewart "Living".

Call back in 4 years

Dear Universe,

Thanks for calling. But The Princess is only 12. She is not allowed to date until she is 16. Please call back in 4 years.

Sincerely,

The Faithful Alligator

(9th grader asked her for her phone number at the bus stop today. She was smart enough to tell him she's not allowed to give it out. Not quite smart enough to NOT tell him which house is ours. She's tall -- she looks older. This is going to get interesting.)

One Brave Lady

The Dictator was intently watching a Japanese Lady Beetle climbing around the knob on the lamp at my parents' house last night.

"Be careful; they bite" was the warning she got from both Happy Pappy and The Faithful Alligator.

No Fear at all, that one, as she weighed the balance between getting bit and scientific discovery.

Almost inaudibly came the tiny reply, as she got closer and studied it some more: "I wonder how bad it hurts . . ."

This Is What I've Been Trying to Tell You

We had conferences for The Dictator the other night. Her teacher expressed how very bright and sweet The Dictator is. She is reading 140+ correct words per minute, when 40-80 is average. We had a good discussion about how we can try to give more challenge to The Dictator -- how she's been left to be "teacher helper" and used to help struggling kids more than given a chance to learn something new for 3 years now.

I told the teacher all about the writing left handed antics of the past two years. And how she needs to watch out and not give The Dictator time to plot, wherein she will gather a band of merry men and wreak havoc. The teacher smiled and promised to send us links and ideas to challenge her further at home.

The next morning, as I was checking The Dictator's math homework, I noticed that on the back (during class) she had written her name in mirror image. Writing backwards -- that's new.

I told The Dictator to take that paper to school and show the teacher and say "This is what my mommy was talking about" -- but then she thought she was in trouble.

No, Dictator, "in trouble" is saved for if you fail to realize your full potential to say smart alecky things but convince the teacher/principal/etc. that you were just joking. (Reference: demerit March 4, 1987)

I Love You Just the Way You Are

The Princess and I were talking about self acceptance this morning as we waiting for her bus.

She had pointed out that her science teacher's daughters have thumbs like The Princess -- what the teacher termed "hammerhead" thumbs. The tips of her thumbs are short and very wide -- the "wing span" of The Princess's hands is wide and she has definitely inherited Husbands wide fingers.

I asked The Princess if her thumbs bother her. (I know they used to.)

She said "No."

I went on to say that I thought that was good, that self-acceptance is very important. And that it's also very difficult. I explained how I really don't like that my arms have more hair on them than I think they should -- and how it's pretty frustrating to be getting hair on my face, like a dude.

I quipped, "Well, maybe I should just join the circus as The Bearded Lady!"

"No no no, no way!" she was quick to respond.

"Why? Would that embarrass you?" Everything I do embarrasses that girl.

"No. It's just that if you join the circus, there would be Clowns there."

Fear of Clowns trumps Embarrassing Mother. Who knew?!?!?

Lines of Communication

After having promised The Princess that I really won't tease her anymore about NB (Neighbor Boy) -- once I got one last zinger in*, Husband made me promise the same thing.

He is worried that she won't feel as comfortable telling us things if she's teased about it.

I agree, to a point. She needs to be able to take a bit of teasing, and trust me that a mother would be WAY more gentle than a 7th grade girl would be.

The Princess just got added to our cell plan and now has UNLIMITED texting. Trust me on this, as well: I am doing EVERYTHING IN MY POWER to keep the lines of communication open with my daughter. I want her to get questions answered by me, advice from me, support from me. She does need to feel comfortable putting issues and ideas and even crushes out there, in front of me.

And I still need to be able to give only a few little gentle teases, mostly used to gauge her reaction -- so that I can be sure to know when she stops thinking boys are yucky, except for Daddy.




* How could I pass this up? -- Neighbor Boy's name rhymes with "you" -- as in, I can substitute his name in song lyrics such as "You belong with me" and "My life would suck without you". Good times!