Middle School Dude

                “Mommy, will you come in and say ‘goodnight’?”  Are you kidding me?  There is no better way to melt the heart of an eleven year old’s mother than that sentence right there (and his birthday is a mere 7 weeks away so that doesn’t hurt either I’m sure).  Ok ok I know it’s not manly and all but I must say that I will support it for as long as I can.  I figure I’ve got a year or maybe two left where everything I say isn’t the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.  As of now I’m hovering around 40%, which isn’t bad. 

                When my main man was born on that snowy night back in 2000, I thought I wasn’t ready to have a kid.  I was right, of course I wasn’t, I was barely ready to have myself; but I did it anyway, with vigor, a smile, some elbow grease, throw in some sacrifice, lots of family and friend’s support and VIOLA! a parent I did become (I truly believe you become a parent, you don’t just get to default into the title).  Now I’d be a bold faced liar if I said I did no wrong on the parenting ship.  Parenting seems to be a constant barrage of bargaining, blackmailing, backtracking, bending, breaking, bonding, and many other ‘b’ words that I can’t think of at this time to add to my alliteration.  (bitching and beating?)  So really it's all in the problem solving.... and sheer will power.

                I felt I wasn’t ready to be a parent when my son was born, but I feel even less ready for the day when he doesn’t need me.  Sitting at the middle school orientation I looked around and thought,

‘This isn’t right.  I’m not supposed to be here.  He’s too young.  I hope he gets his locker open.  Please let him read at least one fucking book this year without the threat of controller hand amputation.  The girls are too grown.  Did some of them get their clothes from Slutz-R-Us?  I didn’t have boobs when I was 11?’ 

Yeah, I’m definitely not prepared for girls + my son.  Screw that.  Trouble.  All of them.  Myself included.  Pretty sure we’re not at that stage yet, thank all of the many gods, I figure that I’ll know when that time approaches by the increase in showering and decrease in everything else (like brain usage).  Last week he was even the proud owner of a 91% on his hunter safety test.  Really?  Guns.  Damn.  (But excited about the 91%.  Apparently the schools need a class called 'Guns and Shit' just to help my son's GPA)  Gone are the days of Spongebob and Sesame Street, now it’s Mythbuster’s and How the Universe Works (which isn’t a bad trade, just a sad one).  Traded legos for Minecraft, 2T for 14Y, our shoes are the same size (seriously) and we share iTunes playlists (so we both like bluegrass, don’t judge). 

               When I look at him I think about what a funny, polite and sweet boy he is, and what a witty, handsome, well mannered young man he’s becoming.  I’m not worried about him growing up, my concern lies with myself.  What am I going to do without him?  Drink scotch?  That’s classy right? 

toddler and cute

super preteen and gross

* (And he does not have a Facebook yet so none of his friends will see this and he won't be sooooooooooo embarrassed.)

A Green Good Time

                Recently I was talking (or texting, whatever) with my good friend Val.  We were discussing  her dislike (and by dislike I mean hate) for gardening.  In a moment of spontaneity I said I was going to write a counter blog professing my like (and by like I mean love) for all things growing in the ground, planter or other outdoor foliage receptacle.  Her blog was a delightful array of up close photos, an insect’s point of view on life.  It almost, almost made me feel bad for all the times I’ve sprayed things on my plants to get rid of the little creepies, but not quite.  I still spray. 

                I LOVE gardening.  I’m not always very good at it, but I don’t think that excelling at something and loving it are mutually exclusive (take my singing for instance).  In fact when it comes to indoor plants I suck at life, their life to be exact.  Those poor, poor potted plants.  I’m surprised I’m not haunted by peace lilies of years past.  Now come springtime on the other hand I rock it out, practically the Bruce Springsteen of the backyard.  You give me some sunshine and a few 5 bags of organic gardening soil and we’ve got ourselves a green good time.  I really love everything about it; the sunshine (minus the weird back tan that can occur between the shorts and shirt area, that’s not pretty), the dirt under the fingernails, the smell of cut grass, the flowers and all their glory, and of course the plants for eating (not smoking, this isn’t Michigan or California).  I would love to be able to tell you that I grow mostly food type plants for consumption, I don’t.  I grow whatever suits my fancy.  I’ve grown corn, lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, dahlias, basil, parsley, pumpkins, sunflowers, etc.  Until the world goes all zombie apocalypse on me I figure there’s nothing wrong with a flower that just makes me smile or a pumpkin grown purely for Halloween purposes only.

soon to be slaughtered

flat leaf parsley

                 There are some obvious benefits to gardening.  If it’s food, it tastes good.  Buying organic heirloom seeds can allow you to grow the plants again the next season (just make sure you research how to collect and store the seeds.  Tomatoes are really fun, you get to grow mold in a glass on your counter, yummy.) which of course helps the pocket book at the grocery store.   A lot of herbs are perennial or can at the very least be dried and used all fall and winter long.  There are also lots of herbal remedies that are hardy; echinacea, or cone flower, is very common, comes back every year, and is used in a crap load of herbal cold remedies.  Sometimes it’s the weeds that are good for you too; nettles, while very annoying and painful at times to pull, are very nutritious and make a good tea.  Let's not leave out poison ivy, which is good for absolutely nothing but a very painful reaction in very uncomfortable places.  Just thought I'd throw that in there for good measure.  And lastly gardening is great exercise and being outside in the sunshine is good for the soul (and vitamin D).

patriotic clematis in full bloom

                At the end of the day for me the most satisfying part is just watching something grow, taking care of it from the time it’s just so small and helpless until it’s big and strong*; it’s like parenting on meth without any of the sleepless nights.  Plus its fun to tell people your clematis is blooming.  It just sounds catchy doesn’t it?  













*I can't explain why, maybe too much Dances with Wolves as a young girl, but I have a hard time not following 'big and strong' up with 'like bull' in a really overly Hollywood Native American accent.