Tag Archives: teenagers

Mom Angst


One of my daughters has had boyfriends since she was in Jr. High. One after another, some only last a few days or weeks, then she’s on to another. Lately, she’s tapered off a bit… we wonder if it’s just the law of percentages. Has she just run through all the available boys in the area?

My other daughter, however, has been biding her time and saving her attention for someone special. She is a Sophomore now, and has only had one boyfriend, a guy she “went with” a couple of years ago for a month or so. Last week, she went to a movie with a boy who asked her out, and tonight we picked him up for a Sadie Hawkins dance he invited her to (didn’t get the concept of Sadie Hawkins, apparently).  For some reason, watching them walk in to the gym together made me all soft and weepy inside. I didn’t actually cry, but I did get all sentimental about the fact that she’s getting all grown up and having dates with boys who are taller than her and stuff. Thinking about how he sits behind her in English class and wondering what he was thinking about her that led him to ask her out… it’s just so sweet! A nice young man (straight A’s and a linebacker on the football team) finds my daughter interesting and funny and attractive enough to hang out with. So cool!!

Maybe my hormones are on the rampage… I was all weak and pouty during my bellydancing class the other night too. (you can read that story here)

In any case, it’s just interesting to me how differently I’m reacting to my two daughters’ dating habits. Maybe I’m jaded about D’s relationships because she’s had so many? I don’t know. It’s not like D’s boyfriend isn’t a great guy – he’s studying environmental science at a local junior college, is comfortable hanging out with her at our house. Maybe I need to be taking that one more seriously… she’s 18 now, so long-term stuff could be right around the corner…

I think I’m rambling.


Delaney Katherine


My amazing daughter turned 18 yesterday. She has been looking forward to this milestone since her 17th birthday… probably feeling a bit antsy for the myth of freedom the milestone would bestow upon her. I tried to keep her feet on the ground by reminding her that we were NOT going to be throwing a party a-la My Super Sweet Sixteen (what a vomit-fest that is!), and she would NOT be experiencing any relaxing of the curfews or chore allotments… but she persisted, optimist that she is.

With my co-workers I made a sincere attempt to be distraut about her age. I dutifully connected the dots between my teenager’s special day and my own advancing years, and moaned about the increasing amount of gray I’m seeing when it’s past time to update my haircolor.

But you know what? I’m really not that freaked out about it at all. At least, not the “I’m getting so old!” part. My sagging triceps and the jowls I inherited from my Meemaw are there with no help from my teenagers. The most overwhelming responses I have to my darling baby daughter hitting 18 are fear, uncertainty, and regret.

I can’t believe that 18 years went by as quickly as they did. I didn’t do all the things with/for my daughter as I would have liked. Life gets in the way I guess. When she was little I couldn’t afford to put her in dance or piano lessons – both of which I think she would have enjoyed. She is very musical and has a beautiful voice, so I wish I’d been able to expose her to music in a more formal capacity early… I also haven’t traveled with her as much as I had hoped to.

Sometimes I get wiggy wondering if I have prepared her for the future as well as I could have. Of course, I have done what I can do… it’s up to her to make the best of it now.

Now, we just have to get her through her last semester of high school. Cross your fingers!!!!

Raising Children Properly


I won’t pretend to be the expert in raising teenagers. My husband would tell you I’m far from it, actually. But I think I may redeem myself with my son, who is now five years old.

We were driving through the Lowe’s parking lot in Fayetteville on Sunday afternoon, and there were a few teenaged boys hanging around by their pre-fab sheds, looking like they were up to no good. Rick and I commented that they were on their way to getting themselves in trouble. As we went on through the lot, Griffin piped up “where is their mother?”

I almost had to pull the car over I was laughing so hard.

It had to happen


The Oldest has been driving since January, and today she got her first speeding ticket.  She’s never been good at accepting blame for anything, so this was a VERY difficult situation for her to deal with.

First, the spedometer must have been wrong in her car.  Then, perhaps the officer clocked the guy in front of her because “He was going the same speed” that she was.  But in the end (after she found out we weren’t angry with her) she admitted that she might need to slow down a bit.

She said she cried when he gave it to her, and he assured her that lots of people get tickets.  I think she was mostly worried that we would be upset.  I said hey, you’re paying for it, so why should it bother me??  And I was a speed demon when I was younger so I can’t throw any stones anyway.

Life lessons do suck, don’t they?

17 years of parenthood



17 years ago today, at 7:50 a.m., my first child was born. I remember 17 so well. More than any of her previous birthdays, this one is killing me.

When I was 17 I was hardly ever at home. I was in the drama club, so I spent a lot of time at school rehearsing. I didn’t spend much time with my family during that time.

When I was 17 I met the boyfriend I was with off and on for the next two years. Another reason I didn’t spend much time with my family…

When I was 17 “Sexy and Seventeen” was my theme song. The boyfriend took me to the Stray Cats concert and we got matching t-shirts. I wish I still owned mine. It wouldn’t fit me, but it would be kind of cool to let MY 17 year old wear it.

I don’t feel much older than 17 most days – just 17 with more responsibility. And a lot more experience… and a lot more confidence in who I am and what I’m all about. It feels funny to write that, actually. I’ve been unsure of myself for a long time so it has been kind of a fall-back to say that I am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. But the truth is, I already know. And better than that – I am actually already that person, for the most part. I don’t think any of us should ever quit learning, growing, moving forward… but it’s really, really satisfying to know that I have accomplished a lot and that from here on out everything else is just the cherry on top.

When I say I’ve been unsure of myself, I don’t mean that I haven’t been self-confident. I think most people I have known over the last dozen or so years would say that I have always seemed very sure of myself and that I’ve had a lot of self-esteem. But what I mean is that although I have been optimistic and I have always looked to the future and had the expectation of success, I just haven’t known where I was headed exactly. I just did what came along and was the easiest thing to do at the time. I think I’m ready now, finally, to move forward with the confidence I need to do things that might not necessarily be the easiest things for me to do. I feel that I am more focused on reaching goals. SETTING them, then reaching them. Not just accepting whatever works at the time.

I’m working on a list – several actually. I am making a list of home-improvement projects I want to complete over the next six months to a year, and a list of books I want to read, and a list of writing projects I want to work on, complete, and send off to publishers. I can’t let another year go by and think “what did I DO last year??” At the end of 2009 I want to look back and say “Look what I did!” even if the projects didn’t come out as planned, or results weren’t achieved… I want to actually take action.

Just another week in Crazy Town…


Yesterday marked the third week since finding out that mom has a tumor. But overshadowing that event in my blog tonight, believe it or not, is the experience of taking my 16-year-old out to drive last night. She wanted to drive, and I didn’t want to cook, so I had the best of both by ordering pizza and letting her drive me to pick it up. Other than the one right-hand turn when I was making the “We’re gonna die!” face while saying, in escalating volume and tempo “turn… turn… TURN! TURNTURNTURN!!” she did really well. It was disconcerting – feeling like I had no control over my own safety. I could suddenly empathize with my mother’s sharp intakes of air when I drove her around as I learned to drive. It was SO annoying when I was 16, but I know now that she absolutely had no control over that sound escaping her lips. I forgive her.

Last week, when we thought my son might have diabetes, (did I mention I live in Crazy Town??) I told my son we’d go get him some goldfish. We followed through on that promise a few days later and have been watching the fish, “John” and “Bohn”, as they made themselves at home in our yard-sale 10 gallon tank and Freecycled tank pebbles. We added some plastic dinosaurs and little green plastic trees for excitement in the tank.

Unfortunately, John was called home to the Koi pond in the sky today. We went in to Griffin’s room to read a little before bed and he noticed John floating right away. He wanted to touch him, and did, but wasn’t sure about how to dispose of him. I suggested the old standard – the porcelein coffin – and he thought that would be fine. As he flushed, Griffin said “There he goes!”, then “Bye John!” Obviously he doesn’t have any problem with attachement issues.

My brother came in tonight to spend a few days with my mom. Mom went with me to pick him up at the airport. I think she didn’t want to be “frail” when he arrived; didn’t want to be seen as unable to meet him…

On the way she and I had a good laugh about the fact that she couldn’t get her shoes tied, her pants were twisted around sideways, and her shirt – which didn’t match her pants – was on backward. She’s having trouble figuring out how to get clothes on straight, and ends up with shirts backwards even after making several attempts to correct her confusion. I warned her that Brian would probably wake her each morning with a comment like “are you still alive??” We’re not very concerned with what’s proper or appropriate, my siblings and I. Or, at least, Brian and I. Humor heals. And we’re aiming for LOTS of healing. It can’t come too soon, either. She had a seizure episode today and has been prescribed another anti-seizure medicine to go with the Dilantin. The episode had her confused and tired, but by this evening she was in good spirits. That’s important – for all of us.

Today, cont…


At the request of my readers, I am posting the text of an email I sent to the director of Model & Talent Promotions.  You can read the initial story about this group here… I suggest anyone who is interested in working with them check out their portfolios or clients first. 

Not surprisingly, I haven’t gotten any response from the guy.  I’m sure he thinks I’m some kind of conservative, uptight beeatch who hates sex.  But I think he’s a disgusting pig  thinly disguising his actual job as a pimp behind the “talent agent” title.  So I guess we’re even.  Dang, I should have included that bit in the email…

Richard –
I just wanted to let you know that I saw your representatives at Springfest yesterday, and immediately decided my daughter would NOT be speaking to you about working with your agency.  They were lovely young ladies, and I’m sure they are very nice, but the three or four I saw walking up and down Dickson Street were dressed like prostitutes.  I do not consider the tiny little skirts and high heels and tee shirts tucked under their bras appropriate attire for a family festival.  They actually looked like they were headed to an audition for the Playboy College Campus issue.  And they were only talking to men when I saw them – they never approached my daughter or sister to give them any information about the agency.
Just FYI – I don’t have any problem with young women trying to get jobs as beer poster girls or Playboy models, but I was just shocked that the image you wanted to put out to the public went that direction.
In any case, if that’s the kind of image your models are asked to identify with, my daughter won’t be working with you.

Laurie Marshall