Another Hairy Moment with My Teen

Ahh.  Do you hear that?  It's the sound of school buses being washed, new shoes being purchased, and pencils being sharpened.  That's the sound of Back to School, coming on Monday for us.  Wait...what's that other sound I hear?  It's the sound of champagne corks popping as the first Back to School Mimosas are being poured and mothers across the country rejoice as their children go back to school.

 Ding Dong, the school bell said

My kids are gone

Going back to bed

Ding dong, My house is like Club Med!

Oh I know.  Some of you are saying, "Oh, I'm sad, I LOVE having my kids around 24/7 all summer long!  I can't believe you are happy they are going back!"  To you I say, "Put down you mimosa and get the hell out of my house."  Just kidding.  Just stop talking and making me feel guilty.  Because I am ready.  

Now that The Wife is working, things are getting done ahead of schedule around here.  Not out of a sudden talent for organization, but rather from complete terror that I will forget something.  I've done the Back to School shopping, I've put money in the lunch accounts, I've made a calendar of activities.  The Son has tried on his football cleats, I've signed the daughters up for dance class, piano lessons have been tentatively set.  

In the middle of all of this activity, Oldest Daughter decided to audition for the Youth Ensemble of our area Symphony Orchestra.  I completely downplayed it, because I thought if I looked enthusiastic, her Teen Alarm would trip and she would instantly resist doing it.  I nonchalantly mentioned that I set an appointment for her audition.  Whatever.  I asked if she had her music, but no big deal.  I mentioned that she might want to select her outfit so she was ready, but if you want to wear your Daisy Dukes, go ahead!  The day before the audition, she had her music ready, her outfit selected, a shower taken, her hair straightened, and she asked if I would please do something for her....would I shape her eyebrows.


One needs to understand something about my people - we are hairy Germans.  Wir sind sehr haarig.  I have the unibrow, and I know how to use it, so back the eff off.  If I don't pluck my eyebrows every six hours or so, I can pull them back to make a lovely hat for myself.

My great great grandfather, 

Berthold Yoder

Again, happy that Oldest Daughter wanted me to do something to help her, and that it was something in the grooming department, I signed up and grabbed the tweezers.  This is when she froze a little bit.  I'm not sure what she thought I was going to do, but I don't think she imagined tools when she pictured us together.

As I've mentioned before, 
I have two ways of dealing with complicated situations.

1. I completely lose my shit and start yelling and swearing, or
2. I make inappropriate jokes in an effort to dispel the stress level.

So I make her sit on the edge of the tub, and I start plucking.  This would be a good time to mention that this was no small job.  She is starting to wince.  I can see that it hurts.  But I might never have this chance again.  I try to distract her - "Tell me about your favorite lines from Hot Rod!" or "What is your favorite SNL skit?" or "Tell me your favorite line from the Sassy Gay Friend!"  

We are laughing and she is quoting up a storm.  I've removed roughly 47 eyebrow hairs from her.  There are small, faint dots of blood appearing in some spots.  The left brow is done, and it looks fantastic.  I have great hopes for the right one, but she is starting to fade, and the pain is getting worse.  I get ahold of one particularly tricky spot, and I pull.  The skin actually pulls away from her face, but I can't stop now.  The hairs come out, and OD slaps her hand against her forehead, protecting her browline from my attack, and says, 

"You're a dirty bitch and I hate you!"

I say, "What show is that from?" and she says, "NONE!" I stop, and we look at each other and both completely bust out laughing.  Because I AM a dirty bitch.  I shouldn't have pulled those hairs.  I know it hurt, and I went there anyway.  But let me tell you something - those brows look fabulous.

My teen crossed over that day.  She went from a mild-mannered middle schooler to being MY daughter.  A girl who can use her swear words appropriately and in a funny context.  She knows she can't get away with that often, she saw her opportunity, and she took it.

Well played, Oldest Daughter.  And the student becomes the Master.

Enjoy Back to School, Moms of America.  I raise my mimosa to you.  Oh damn.  I work full time now, and while mimosas are frowned upon, I will raise my celebratory skinny vanilla latte.  Namaste.

It's Resolution Month! Resolution #1

It's been a while since Neil Diamond Month and Laura Ingalls Wilder Month, and the blogosphere is going mad with Resolution Fever. As I am always one to blindly jump on the Trend Wagon (see Wolf Shirt), January will be all about my resolutions for 2010. I would love to hear about your resolutions...if any of you have the moxie to do it. (Did you hear that? THUMP. Oh yeah. That was me. Throwin' down.)

Webster's defines a resolution as the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure. New Year's resolutions are frequently the act of waking up hungover and bloated and deciding the show cannot go on status quo.

There are generally three camps in the world of New Year's Resolutions:

1. The people who make reasonable, attainable goals and achieve them. I look at these people much like I watch the British Parliament on the BBC or chess tournaments...they look smart, seem to know what they're doing, and they're fascinating, but I don't get it.
2. The Resolution Snobs who say, "I never make resolutions, I think they are stupid." These people KNOW they don't have their shit together, but instead of admitting they will fail, they just say, "I'm above it." Very crafty.
3. The people who earnestly make resolutions, truly believing they have a chance of really losing that weight or drinking and swearing less or getting organized, and by Valentine's Day they are drunk and weeping into a box of chocolates because they can't find the f*cking water bill.

I am firmly in Club Tres. But what the heck, it's the dawn of a new decade, right? Hope and Change are flowing with abandon, like so much red wine. Perhaps I, too, can be resolute and determined to achieve something this year. I do have a Wolf Shirt, which means I am capable of anything, and I have my trusty stuffed squirrel, whom I have named. See! One resolution accomplished!

RESOLUTION #1: Name my squirrel.

Say hello to my little friend...Todd "Hot Nuts" Epstein!

Thanks to everyone for their help. There were so many great names to choose from, but these components came together the best to represent all that is squirrelly about this crooked-dead-mounted rodent. He is Todd for Bill Murray's character on SNL who gave Gilda Radner's Lisa Lubner Noogies. He is "Hot Nuts" for my brother-in-law at Christmas (Long story.) And he is Epstein because I do have a Beatles theme for all of our pets (the exception being our Yellow Lab, Sugar, God rest her soul, who was named for the Grateful Dead song Sugar Magnolia), and the Beatle's manager and fifth Beatle was Brian Epstein.

Whew. Now that is done. I will celebrate by having an effing glass of wine and a chunk of pumpkin cake while I procrastinate on paying bills because I can't find them. One resolution accomplished, 27 days left in the month. I can already feel the power.

SNL, I'm Available!

I've watched Saturday Night Live since it was one year old in 1976. Seriously.

I was seven years old, but my parents were in their 30's and it was the 1970's, and Saturday Night was alright, alright, alright, according to Elton John. We lived on a lake, so most Saturday nights were party time. We'd ride around in the boat until dark, have a bonfire on the beach, grill out, and then the kids would be put in bed around 10 p.m. when they started dozing off. However, I was born to be a thorn in my parent's side, and from birth I would stay awake most nights until midnight. My parents got to the point where if they knew I was watching TV inside, even SNL was better for me than watching the drinking grown-ups outside. And so I fell in love with John Belushi, Dan Akroyd, Gilda Radner, Jane Curtin, Bill Murray, Laraine Newman, and Garret Morris.

I've been a loyal follower ever since, and even when people say SNL sucks, there are still enough diamonds in the rough to make it worth watching.

However, last Saturday night, with Taylor Lautner as the host, was a dud. And I can fix it!

The opening was okay, but they had Taylor overdo it a bit with his martial arts exhibition. Yes, yes, you can do a back flip. We get it. And the football sketch afterward went on way too long. There was a New Moon reference or two, but they could have gone crazy and it would have been hilarious. Here are my ideas:

1. In the skit where Kristin Wiig plays the woman who can't keep a secret, it was about Taylor and a woman who are married and going to announce she is pregnant. BO-Ring! We've seen the "Can't Keep a Secret" woman before. So why didn't they have Edward and Jacob hanging out with Bella at home, and Charlie is coming home from fishing, and the Can't Keep a Secret woman is there, dying because she wants to tell Charlie about the vampire and werewolf in the house? It was there, ripe for the pickin'! And Andy Samberg has already done Edward, so the costume is even ready.

2. They could have a funny skit with High School Musical vs. Twilight...the "we're all in this together!" kids versus the goth kids who are into vampires. SNL does great musical sketches, it could have been hilarious.

3. They could have Are You Smarter Than a Werewolf game show, with a Michael J. Fox as Teen Wolf v. Jacob v. Jack Nicholson from Wolf, and thrown in Chewbacca for fun.
HOST: "What is the square root of Pi?"
Jacob: "Dang it, even the bloodsucker knew this one!"
MJF: (squeaky voice) "Well I don't know it as Teen Wolf, but Alex Keaton would have known it for sure!"
JACK: "Are you friggin' kidding me? Why am I here?"
Chewie: "ARRRRGGGG!"

4. Bella could be leaving for the Christmas holiday to visit her mother in Jacksonville, and she is trying to check Jacob into the vet to have him kenneled while she is gone. He is resisting and making arguments for why he shouldn't be kenneled, but then he gets mad, morphs into a werewolf, and they shoot him with tranquilizer guns and take him back to kennel him anyway.

5. Taylor Lautner was Sharkboy in one of the worst kid's films, Shark Boy and Lava girl. They should have done a skit with him reprising his role as Shark Boy - maybe as LANDSHARK-Boy!!!

6. And of course, you KNOW Taylor Swift was there. But if she wasn't, someone could have played her, and they could do a skit where the Taylors were recording an album of duets about love. So Taylor Swift starts singing in the microphone, and Taylor Lautner howls.

And P.S. - BON friggin' JOVI as the musical guest? Do you have to advertise that you are old? Thanks be to J that Muse is your musical guest next time, or I would have been uptight.

Whew. I feel so much better to get that off of my chest. I just take it a little personally when SNL lets me down. You're better than that, guys. I'm available.