It's the Everyday Stuff, Ain't It?

One month from today, I'll have a high school graduate. Actually, three of the four gaby ladies will have high school graduates this year. Just a touch overwhelming to think about, when your child still seems so young to your own eyes. Some high school graduates will go straight to full time work, others straight to the military, others go on to college. Any way you approach it, adulthood is beckoning. I told some friends at lunch that I had been struck by the most horrid realization that as much as I had tried to raise my child, there were huge swaths of knowledge (like the proper usage of the word swath), that I never properly conveyed. So I started a list, because every teenager LOVES seeing their mom approach them with a list...

So every day, the poor kid has a very brief lecture, discussion, about items on the list. So here in writing, and I do not promise no further additions, is some of the list:

The car - how to jump-start a battery, already demonstrated when he sat in his car running the a/c, and the radio without the engine. Also discussed a flat tire, engine warning lights, roadside assistance, and car insurance. Most importantly, we discussed accidents - who to talk to, who to call, and DO NOT STOP ON A DESERTED ROAD IF SOMEONE REAR ENDS YOU. Sadly, I explained about staged accidents, and that he should call 911, explain the situation, why he was not stopping at the scene of the accident, and where he should travel to. Young adults traveling alone are a target, and you aren't always in an area you are familiar with. In case you think I missed a hot topic - he's been lectured on the use of his phone while driving since before he could drive. Fortunately, he uses his phone to pipe music playlists through his car speakers, which has the advantage of making him ignore calls/texts as that would mess up his tunes.

Identity Theft - most teenagers are not comfortable yet with their own identity. Unfortunately, there are people out there more then happy to take on your identity for you. One simple rule - when in doubt, shred. People will go through the trash looking for that piece of paper with your social security number or maybe a voided check with your account number/routing number. Shred it. Never give out information on the phone except to your own mother, if you want me to cover that outrageous bill for data. Don't trust the email that looks all official-like wanting you to confirm a password. The bank ALREADY knows what they need to know - they ain't asking you. Same thing for the government, and your college. Never give out account numbers or passwords. And treat any threats they issue - like how you'll lose access, blah, blah, blah - exactly the way you treated my threats over cleaning your room. Then I know they'll get nowhere.

People - Sorta like the identity theft one, trust is a big issue. You're going to meet a lot of new people. Some will be fantastic, and become life long friends that you will laugh with over that thing that happened that night at that place (better not be a bar - geez, now I just sound stupid) for the rest of your lives. Others will be ones that you will use as examples to your own children. Sometimes it's hard to distinguish the two, and sometimes you're wrong. Often the manipulators are soooo nice, and friendly, and they make the request to use your car, your computer, your money, seem sooo reasonable. Like you're the one being unreasonable, and mean to say no. Others will jump in like a Greek chorus pushing on you to say yes. JUST SAY NO. You were not put on this earth to provide rides, money, food to others (except your brother - if he goes to the same college, you two WILL do all of that). These people will exist in your universe for the rest of your life, so college is a great training ground for recognizing them, and moving past them. This doesn't mean that you can't help someone in need. BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE. Some of the wealthiest girls at ECU were the biggest users. I ended up throwing away shoes, clothes, hot curlers that were ruined by others, even provided rides to parties I WASN'T invited to, before I started realizing what was going on. I can be slow on the uptake. Sharing with others, and being taken advantage of are not the same.

Priorities - College is expensive. You are not there for the party. You are not there to demonstrate your video gaming prowess. You are there to prepare you for a career which will enable you to come home to visit, not to live. Set your priorities. Have fun, AFTER YOUR SCHOOLWORK, especially if you want us to contribute to the cost.

I've shown our son how to write a check, how to look at his balances online, made sure he has his email set up on his phone, how to address an envelope, how to write a thank you note, how to wash a load of clothes (though I suspect those will come my way since he's only a short drive away), but I know I've missed a lot so any suggestions are welcome. I'm going to miss my baby, but I do welcome seeing a young man.

The Therapy of Driving...

Ok, I've never pretended to like taking my kids to school. Even they know it's something I really don't enjoy. Yeah, I know I should've been less vocal. But this way the therapist will have something to talk to them about.

"Why do you think your mother hated taking you to school? Do you think it was because she would miss you terribly while you were away?"

"Nope. I think she just thought people drove like they had their head up their @ss."

Hmm, therapy might not cost so much after all.

I am not the world's best driver, despite my constant lectures to the sixteen year old about what is and what isn't proper driving. I can say that I have been ticket and accident free for quite some time (knock on wood). But I've got to give some credit to my guardian angel, and some to the fact that I do not find my iPhone to NEED my constant care and feeding.

The count this morning on the way to the high school:

One broken down car in the middle lane (bless their heart, we've all been there).

One wreck in the middle lane (bless their heart, we've all been there). Though I do wonder - was someone looking too long at the broken down car, and didn't stop in time? I remind the boys - look at the road, not at the scenery.

One car straddled two lanes until I honked my horn (Something I try not to do frequently. Never know how pissed off it might make somebody). Then she decided on my lane. Oh, joy.

One car that at every light would swerve when he started off. How do I know? I was behind him at several. See there are TEN lights between our home and the high school plus a bridge over a major interstate. You get to share a lot of together time with some other drivers. I suspect he was surfing his phone at every light and when the light changed, it was a little difficult to put down the phone, and drive off in your own lane. To his credit once he got going he seemed fine. Until the next light...

And that's not an all encompassing list.

See the thing about taking them to school, is the traffic. If the other cars would just stay home, it wouldn't be so bad. Or I could homeschool them. Now THAT would really pay a therapist well. Wonder if they give a discount to mothers? Oh, well. At least it's Friday...wait, they're in the marching band. That means I get to take them and pick them up on Saturday, too. Sigh...I love those kids. Obviously.

Delinquent Mother!

We all know that teenagers, at some point or other, are completely embarrassed by their parents but I think I just hit the top spot on the embarrassment poll. I could blame it on age, my grey cells dissipating, or my hormones taking over, but truthfully it was all me. No help at all, which makes it worse.

The place was high school orientation. The people involved were my son, his teacher, and me. The orientation was chaotic with hundreds of teenagers running around trying to find their way in a new school whilst skillfully texting each other, even though they were standing back to back. It was a parent's nightmare.

By the time we arrived at the last room on his list, I was frazzled and ready to go home. My head was spinning from the fact that he had been assigned to the wrong math class, that one of his teachers looked like a 'surfer dude' (he is very nice so I found out – naughty me!), and that not one person could tell us definitively where he was supposed to report to on day one. Yes, my mind was racing with a million questions and thoughts.

The last room was his homeroom and I was hoping to get answers to my remaining questions. As we entered, there was one other family in conversation with the teacher, so I ushered my son far enough away so as not to look as if we were trying to muscle in on the conversation. It is so annoying when someone does that right?

From our distant position, a few chairs back, I started to whisper to my son about what we needed to find out. He engaged in the conversation as quietly as I did – we were being polite, or so we thought! To our horror, the teacher didn't think so. Within a second the room went quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. I looked up from my huddled position and saw the stare. Yes, I got the "Teacher Stare". You know the one that you got in school, all those years ago, when you had done some dreadful deed. The one that told you detention was a sure thing and that your parents would certainly hear of this before the day was out. Thankfully, I didn't get many of these in my day but, unthankfully because of that, I am afraid of them.

The teacher then addressed me. He did not say many words. It was just a simple, "Did you say something?"

My son's gaze had followed mine and, as I noticed out of the corner of my eye, he had gone completely white. You see, this is the boy who would walk around the edge of the classroom so as not to be seen near the naughty chair in Kindergarten, or has ever had a reason to bring one of those 'notes' home. In fact, he never got off green in the Green, Yellow, Red (your dead) behavioral system favored by elementary schools. I knew this was disaster of mammoth proportions.

I couldn't answer the teacher; my mouth was stuck, stricken with fear. That apparently was making the situation worse. As he was not getting a satisfactory reply from me, he turned to my son.

"Do YOU have something to say?"

Well, I did not know whether to be proud of my son for answering the question or whether to ground him for the next year. Really, it was outrageous -- he blamed me! Simply he stammered that he was replying to me, his mother. I got another stare and then the final blow. The teacher turned his back on me. I was in school, in my forties, and been caught out for speaking out of turn in class. I started to giggle which was obviously catching, as the other boy who was talking with the teacher at the time followed suit.

He got the stare too.

At least my son was not the only one, I thought to myself. However, the damage was done; I had embarrassed my poor child. We did speak to the teacher after the other family had left, but I have to be honest and say that I didn't ask the questions I needed to, and the teacher thankfully didn't mention the incident just told us that we could expect a lot of paperwork.

My son never really said anything on the way home about my delinquent behavior so I decided to keep quiet – best thing to do under the circumstances, don't you think.