Freaks of Nature

Yesterday there was a remarkable event in Austin… snow. We don’t usually see much snow around here, perhaps just a flurry or two from time to time. There isn’t typically much accumulation on the ground, particularly this late into winter.

Here are  my little Cookie and Pumpkin making their very first snowman (pathetic, I know). Although it is a little on the small side, it was enough for them! The only real problem we noted was their lack of gloves… we never had a reason to buy them any before. Both of them were freezing by the time we went inside, but they still had to be coerced into the house. They probably could have walked in it, ate it, threw it and looked at it until their fingers fell off.

It was especially weird because we were outside just three days ago in short sleeves enjoying the 60+ degree weather. Then two days later, it’s snowing?!?! And then the very next day, most of the snow has melted and the sun is shining! Weird…

Winter Olympics

I’ve been watching the Winter Olympics off and on over the past several days. Living in Texas doesn’t allow much for winter sports, so I’ve never really been too interested. The only winter sport around here is watching the news the morning of an ice storm to see if school is out and… nope, that’s about it.

However this year, I’ve learned more about speed racing and downhill skiing than I probably need to know. It has actually been pretty amazing watching what these people can do. And then you realize the difference between first and second place is often quite small, perhaps a few inches or a fraction of a second.

I’ve mostly enjoyed the speed racing. Watching these people from around the world go around this little bitty circle as fast as they can is amazing. It doesn’t look that hard from my perspective on the couch in my living room, but I’m sure it’s much harder than it looks. I like when the commentators explain the difference in the skates or the history of the sport or give us glimpses into the passions of the various countries competing.

Then, last night we watched a little of the snowboarding half-pipe something or other. I couldn’t get past the fact that these guys were wearing plaid shirts and distressed jeans. It was apparently the official uniform for the American team.  I was shocked.

I can understand that this may be the normal attire for these living-on-the-edge-snowboarders, but come on. Shouldn’t their gear be made by Nike? They looked like they just walked in off the street. They looked like they overslept and didn’t have time to get ready. They looked like they were about to commit a drive-by shooting!

Their uniform surprisingly didn’t sway the judges. They did some pretty amazing stunts and won the gold medal. So, who am I to judge? Especially when you take into consideration the fact that I’ve never actually seen a snowboard in real life, much less an Olympic snowboarding event.

I guess this isn’t Project Runway.

Same Song, Different Verse

Last week, I was eating dinner with a couple of girlfriends. Immediately afterwards, I see that I have 15 missed calls on my phone from Weasel and Hubs. I called Hubs, who told me Weasel was in another car accident… not his fault… and he is okay.

I freak out a little, but not too much. I feel like such a bad mom because I didn’t hear my phone ringing during dinner. I feel like such a bad wife because Hubs had to load up the girls to go to the accident. Ugh. I drive out to the accident to relieve Hubs and let him take Cookie and Pumpkin home to bed.

As I’m driving up, there are flashing lights from a police car and from the tow truck. I don’t see Hubs at first, just Weasel’s car in a ditch. OH EMM GEE. Now I freak out a lot. I finally find Weasel, who I cannot hug hard enough. He is okay, but obviously freezing from the cold rain and a little emotional from the scare. His only apparent injury is an airbag burn on his arm. (Thank God for airbags!)

Apparently, he was travelling down the road when a large work truck pulled out in front of him. He swerved to miss it, but was unable to avoid the collision! It was a little more significant than his last accident. The airbags went off and he was a little shook up. There was even a moment where he thought the car was on fire due to the smoky air after the airbags deployed. Scary!

Probably the most horrifying thing for me as a mom is for my kids to be scared and I’m not there to protect them. I know that I cannot be there every moment of every day. I know that I cannot protect them from every evil, but I still want to.

Funny thing was, I actually got mad at his Weasel’s dad who has been dead for over 17 years. How could he let this happen? He is supposed to help me protect Weasel! Weasel doesn’t deserve all of this heartache! Then I realize that perhaps his dad DID protect him. Perhaps this accident could have been much worse. Perhaps this accident (and the last one) will make Weasel a better driver, which may save his life in the future.

Bottom line is, Weasel is okay.

Oh, and did I mention he only had this car for TWO DAYS? Hopefully there won’t be monthly posts about Weasel’s car accidents. Two totaled cars in two months is enough for anyone! 

Let’s see what happens in March!

Good Luck With That

I recently had a dear friend teach me the most important words a mother of a teenager could learn: “good luck with that.” I’m finding that little phrase to be a most powerful set of words. Whenever I don’t agree with what my oldest batch is doing, the best response is probably, “good luck with that.”

For example, I think Weasel is a genius. He has always been very smart, although you could not tell it by his grades in school. He is currently a junior in high school, and I actually find myself worrying that he won’t graduate next year. I keep getting notifications from school that he is failing this, or that he’s not turning in that project, or that he hasn’t completed his homework. My first instinct is to get enraged, beat the crap out of him, ground him from his car and anything else he values. Then… that little phrase… “good luck with that.”

All of a sudden, I’m off the hook. I realize that my nearly grown son is making these choices. And the only way he’ll ever learn whether he is making the right choice or the wrong choice would be to live with the consequences. If he makes bad decisions, he’ll have to live it… and vice versa if he makes good decisions.

Then the most amazing thing happens… They are liberated from being over-mothered (which I’ve been known to do from time to time). They are the ones that always want to be treated like adults. Well, welcome to adulthood. And at the same time, I’m liberated from feeling so responsible for the failures of my children. I finally realize that if they fail, it actually doesn’t reflect on me directly at all. I’m still a good mom, even if my kids aren’t perfect!

So thank you, Dawn, for helping me become a better mom to my teenagers. Now, if I could only get my little batch to clean their playroom. Well, one day at a time…

Happy Birthday, Boog!

All of my kids’ birthdays are approximately two months apart from one another. So, it’s time for another happy birthday to one of my little offspring. Today, it’s my Boog.

She is 19 today! Ugh… that affirms my I’m-getting-so-old feeling. How can I be young AND have a 19-year-old child?

She has grown up so much over the past 19 years. I can still remember her being born… at 9 pounds, 11 ounces! Ouch. I still remember that pain, too! While the doctor was telling me to push, I was yelling at the doctor to pull!

She was not a very pretty newborn, I suppose because she was squished inside me for too long. I don’t think she could open her eyes for three days. But she grew into such a cute little girl, and now a gorgeous young woman.

She has put more than a few gray hairs on my head throughout the years. But overall, she has been a blessing. And I couldn’t be more proud of who she has become, and am so excited about what lies before her.

Happy birthday, Boog!