Day 10 - Teens in a Mall

Before I begin, I'd like to point out a theme in our house.  Now that I'm blogging every day this month, I tend to either write my post at work (sorry employer!), or more likely, at 10 p.m. when everyone has seemingly settled in for the night.  Every night this month that I have been in my studio room, some member of my family has followed me downstairs to talk.

"Mom?  I might have a gland that needs to be expressed."

School starts in these parts on Monday.  Of course, I am unprepared.  Just today I found a ride home for my high schooler, and I still haven't signed her up for the bus as the backup plan.  I just scheduled her golf lessons, and got her cello lessons set up.  I still have to call about the cello case that is overdue, and she doesn't have a lunch bag, an important accessory for a two-year vegetarian.  The Son and Youngest Daughter both need tennis shoes for PE, and YD can't wear flip flops to school so I need non-flip-flop shoes for her.  I can't sign either of them up for piano until Monday.  No one has money in their PaySchools account for lunches, and I'm leaving Tuesday morning for a week-long hooker convention in Mennonite country in Ohio.  Current Husband is in charge of everything.  OY.

If I were to interview for a paid position as "Stay-At-Home Mom", up against other resumes, there is NO WAY I would get the job.  That SAHM Mom job is tough, don't kid yourself.  In addition to the normal laundry-meals-activities-homework-housework-sex stuff, there is added pressure to volunteer and give of yourself to the world at large, because what could you possibly be doing at home? Seriously, my five years at home were some of the hardest because I thought I could do everything, and felt like it was expected.  Now I actually get paid to work, and I while I still do my turn as nail-painter and donater-of-cookies at school functions, I don't feel guilty if I can't.

So, tonight I took Oldest Daughter and The Son to the dreaded mall.  We bought some PE shoes that can stay at the school for PE, and a few shirts for school.  I got to browse through The Gap while OD and TS went to Hollister and Abercrombie, I bought some perfume at Von Maur ("I'd like a bottle of Happy, please."  It was fun to say, and I half hoped they'd pull a bottle of Tanqueray from behind the counter) and then met the teens at American Eagle.  The Son found a pair of shades he liked.

"These are beast, mom," he said.
"Are these for you?" the teenage, tattoed checkout girl asked.
"Yeah."  The Son got a bit of swagger.
"Are you going to rock these shades?  Because if you aren't I won't sell them to you."
The Son was shocked.  Was this teen girl *talking* to him?  "Um, yeah."
I saw a tester for a men's body spray and sprayed a little on TS.  "Hey!"
"It's on sale for $5 a bottle...you will be fighting the girls off," said Tattoed Teen.
(Wow.  She's good.)
"Is it like AXE Squared?" I asked.
"Oh yeah.  The girls will go crazy." She said with a smug nod.
"Well then we don't want any.  I Taser girls." 
"WHAT!?"  The Son was mortified.  I was stomping on his buzz.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes."
"Then you better smell like $5 every time you put it on.  No girls."

I paid for it, laughing a little, but inside I was freaking out.  Holy shit.  He really is getting close to dating age, and some little tramp is going to take MY place someday.  I'm not ready.  I still eat this kid up every day.  Why is it so different when it's your son?  The girls I'm not worried about.  OD is a good girl and has a strong constitution so she'll make it through the heartaches, and YD will be the breaker, not the breakee.  I will be consoling her ex-boyfriends.  "It's not you, it's her.  You'll be better off, trust me."  But The Son?  He's my buddy!  She can't have him!  He's MINE!

This is how I will see him forever. 

Which is going to get irritating to everyone.

But seriously, isn't he CUTE?

I guess he's going to Middle School, and he's going to grow up, and his voice is going to change and he'll get girlfriends and move away.  I've always known it's coming, but why is it suddenly seeming so much closer?

This?  This is why I'm eating ice cream every night.  Out of sadness and a need to become so huge and suger-rushed that I will terrify every girl who comes to our house.  And girls?  I do own a Taser gun.  And a stuffed squirrel that will CUT. YOU.