Oh, I forgot to mention.....

I hope you'll enjoy the pictures on my blog of the Greater New Orleans area. The birdhouse in the last post is from City Park's Botanical Garden.

Do your teenagers still need you?

This is a question I ask myself a lot as I watch my older girls turn into young women. The oldest is nineteen, a sophomore in college, drives her own car, and occasionally makes her own money. The next one is sixteen, incredibly self reliant, and possibly the most stubborn person I know. Most of the time she walks around with a sense of self assurance that would make a Supreme Court Justice take a course in confidence building. But don't be fooled. When it comes to handling their own problems, that five-year-old they think they left behind in kindergarten will reappear.

If you've paid any attention at all to your kids over the past decade, you should be able to read the signs. With the oldest, I'm addressed as 'mommy' when she wants something, and 'mom' with anguish when she's distressed. With the second, it's just tears. This is significant because she's not a crier, and is embarrassed at the thought of having to wear her emotions on her sleeve. And the chances are she's exhausted every other possible solution to her problem before coming to her parents. This is good.

It's good because she's tried to solve the problem on her own. It's good because after she's seen she can't solve the problem on her own, she moves on to a higher power, and I don't mean a round robin of her usually clueless friends on Facebook. I think this is what all parents want. We want kids who are self reliant, but we want them to be able to turn to another source once they've hit a wall.

This is why I don't question my approach to parenting. I'm not at all concerned that because I provide structure, discipline and love, that my kids will grow to hate me. Put simply, I don't care if they don't like washing dishes or folding clothes. Making their beds and doing their homework is a part of their life at present. Sure, we sometimes have bitter fights over the need for clean bathrooms and swept floors, but at the end of the day, my kids know that I'm their staunchest defender and their biggest fan.

Are you tired too?

The school year just started here and I'm already exhausted. Keep in mind that only two of my three kids are in school, thus far. I don't start myself, until the 24th, and my oldest starts on the 31st. Already we've spent more time buying school supplies, looking for shoes, and reasonably priced school clothes, than I'd like to admit. And the paperwork, oh my god! Is this what people go through when they want to join the Secret Service? The only thing I didn't send back was DNA!

Regardless, the first day has come and gone for the younger girls and they're settling into their new classes, new teachers, and old and new friends. But when did school become so overwhelming? My 16-year-old is already stressed out because of the work she's getting from two very demanding schools, and she hasn't even made it through the first week. There's a lesson she needs to learn early; worrying never solved any problem. It only magnifies the problem and makes it seem insurmountable. I hope she learns this lesson before she hits her twenties and the ulcer is irreversible.

The boy we never had...

Why is it that we expect little girls to be cleaner in the bathroom? My part-time princess, part-time quarterback distinctly has some male tendencies. Every time I go into the bathroom, she's left a little surprise on the potty seat as well as in the bowl. I actually listen. When she's done, there's no flush and no running water. Do you think she's just trying to save water? Her radical wanna be left wing sisters have certainly schooled her in the art of being a faux environmentalist. We can hardly pass a large SUV on the street that she doesn't scream "Tree Killer!" Though I notice her righteous indignation over the state of clean air and water seems to fly right out of the window as she's dropping the wrapper for an ice cream sandwich on the ground. To be fair, her attention span is shorter than that of a husband, which makes it almost non-existent.

So this is the day before the first day of school and we have big plans. She's getting hair cut really short, and yes there is an explanation. My girl/boy has absolutely no respect for her hair, and as such treats it badly. Her hair is already dry, she swims constantly and rubs the back of her head on the carpet. So of course, she has major breakage. In addition, she hates having her hair done each day; the combing, brushing, curling, oh my! All things being equal, I think she'd rather take a bullet for Hannah Montana.

I offered her the option of getting her hair cut short, and she jumped on it faster than Jon Gosselin on a 22-year-old. I took her to a local barber and it took less than ten minutes. She's thrilled. Then it's on to the mall to get her ears pierced. Okay, this didn't go so well. She was really excited at first, but then as reality set in, she changed her mind.

Once we got home, she asked, "Are you disappointed in me?" Of course, I told her no, then she burst into tears, saying how much she really wanted to get her ears pierced. So, I took her back to the mall, back to Claire's and she jumped into the seat. Throwing her arms around me, she buried her head in my shirt, the two technicians loaded their guns, and in a half a second, it was done.

She didn't flinch and came up smiling. "Is it over? I didn't even feel anything!" For the next ten minutes, my six-year-old showed her earrings to everyone who would look and listen. She then picked out some new earrings, and walked out of store feeling like the coolest first grader on the planet.

Super Kitty

Sugar is tenacious. As cute as she is, she's got a head like a rock. I can toss her off my bed more than a dozen times in the middle of the night, but she still doesn't get that I don't want a little fur ball curled up above my head, chewing on its tail and purring. If I wanted that kind of action in bed, I'd talk to my husband. She's also a climber and will walk across, perch or scale anything her claws can adhere to. She's managed to walk across the top of my headboard, perch on the back of an office chair and scale every other piece of furniture in the house. I'm thinking about putting double sided tape on some of these surfaces to discourage some of her more reckless behavior. Any suggestions?

It's Starting to Feel Real!

I went to the bursar's office today to hand over the proof that I 'd had the MMR vaccination, gotten a tetanus shot, and to find out to the penny how much my education would cost for the first semester. I've ordered my first two textbooks from Chegg.com, a book rental site. Now I'm waiting for orientation two weeks from now. There must be a word to describe that feeling that is somewhere between exhilaration and terror. I am there!

There are days when the decision to go back to school feels great, like I'm turning a page in my life and the future is bright. But then there's the other 90% of the time when I'm already overwhelmed at the weight of what I'm attempting. I don't have any time to myself now, and I'm adding classes two nights a week, homework, papers and exams. I'd better keep a paper bag in my purse for hyperventilation.

A Much Needed Break

I've got three weeks off from my teaching job (unpaid, unfortunately), but nevertheless, I'm ecstatic. Now, if I had any sense I'd rest and relax, but us Type A's just aren't wired like that. I've already spent the first day organizing my home office because I can see clutter even when it's hidden behind a curtain. This will serve me well during the first semester of my quest for even higher education.

The laundry list of home projects to be completed includes installing a surround in my bathroom and staining the front door. Ridiculous sounding, right? Not for me. If these things are completed before August 24, I'll be able to focus on the fact that I haven't been in a classroom in 25 years.

Unfortunately, I'm one of those people who likes a clean house before she goes on vacation. I don't know about you, but I'm always exhausted after a trip, and the last thing I want to do is walk into a filthy house. I'm certainly not well rested after a trip to Disney World, and cleaning a kitchen won't get me there either.

I guess it's the equivalent of getting new shoes and notebooks before the start of school. You're starting with a blank slate and everything is possible. The tools of your trade are fresh in your hands and there's a sense of exhilaration. This excitement will get you through the first class. It will take sheer willpower and limitless amounts of belief in yourself to get through the rest.