My Teen, The Alien: November 2009

Sunday, November 29, 2009

She's Got Mail!

When my teenager walks into her room tonight, she's going to see a stack of unopened envelopes on her bed that have been piling up for the last week while she's been down in Southern California visiting her dad for Thanksgiving break. She is being courted by a number of our country's finest colleges and universities with the fervency of a horny suitor. First they send the letters, then they follow those up with a flood of e-mails. Gosh, she sure is popular. Imagine if they really knew her -- I'd have a damn riot on my hands!

I'm excited for my daughter and this college shopping spree she gets to go on. I've been telling her all along that the world is her oyster, she can be all that she can be and to shoot for the stars. (You'd be surprised at how many cliches actually apply toward raising teenagers.) While her grades aren't impressive enough to get her into Harvard, Stanford or Yale (which she has no interest in, anyway), they are good enough to get her into a decent liberal arts college or university.

I will continue to encourage her to get good grades and to set her sights high, but secretly, I'm panicking. I'm not sure I can afford to send her off to the college of her dreams! The ex and I started her life with good intentions and had some sort of college fund set up that was tied in with our life insurance or something and such, but I was a new mom and wasn't really paying attention. How could I be thinking of college for my baby daughter when I was just happy to get through to the next feeding? Add a new sister into the mix, a divorce, a complete restructuring of the family nest, my nip-and-tuck years as a single mom and suddenly we've come screeching up to this junction in our lives: my baby daughter is now a junior in high school, poised to go off to college in two years, and I have no idea how I'm going to afford it.

Of course the ex-husband and I will split the cost, so that helps. But still, it makes me wonder how many parents really save for their children's college educations. It's something you hear you're supposed to do the minute they cut the umbilical cord, so say all the best financial advisors. But I think many of us parents think there's plenty of time, don't we? "Why not start saving for college tomorrow? Or maybe a few years from now? There's no rush. Besides, we need that money NOW!"

Well, folks, I'm running out of time. How about you? I don't have the heart to tell my teenager that she may not be able to go to the college of her choice. Too risky this close to finals, with SATS right around the corner. Besides, I'm still optimistic. I believe it will all work out for her, somehow. Life always seems to go that way.

I have to remember that I went to the college of my dreams on sheer determination and resourcefulness alone. My parents didn't help with my out-of-state tuition, but I somehow pulled it together through grants, loans, various scholarships, work-study programs and two years as a resident assistant, which covered my room and board.

I have faith in my daughter that in the 11th hour, she, too, will be able to piece it all together and not let ANYTHING deter her from pursuing her chosen education. That attitude seemed to work well for her mom.

But just in case, I'll be buying a lottery ticket tomorrow.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Mooning Over "New Moon"

Has your teenager seen "New Moon" yet? If not, I suggest the two of you go together. My teenager saw it twice this past weekend. She went to the midnight premiere Thursday night (I mean, Friday morning!) I wasn't real happy about that, as she kind of blindsided me.

A month ago, she asked me if she could go to the midnight showing on Friday. I thought, "Sounds stupid to stay up that late for a movie she'll be able to see at an afternoon matinee anytime for the next two months. But sure, why not? Might be a fun outing with her friends on a Friday night."

Welllllllll . . . . . little did I know that when she said "midnight pemiere on Friday," she really meant midnight on THURSDAY night, going into Friday morning. I almost didn't let her go since that was a school night and she had a chemistry test the next morning. I mean, how ill-conceived is that, for movie marketers to plan a midnight premiere of the hottest teen saga EVER on a school night when most kids with rational parents probably wouldn't be able to go, anyway?!

Apparently, there are quite a few irrational parents out there -- including me -- because the theaters were PACKED by 10:30 p.m. with eager teenagers -- mostly girls -- waiting in line outside in 40-degree temps to snag a decent seat.

She got home by 2:30, and of course I laid awake until I heard her come in. She practically fell asleep in her oatmeal four hours later, but she claimed it was worth it. (BTW, I'm still awaiting the results from her chemistry test. I'm scared.)

On Sunday, I took my 12-year-old to see "New Moon" with her friend, and surprisingly, my teenager said she wanted to see it again. We sat next to each other, and the first time Taylor Lautner appeared on screen without his shirt, I understood COMPLETELY why she wanted to see it again. WOWZA!! Why didn't they make teenaged boys like that when I was a teenager? Back then, a six-pack was nothing more than a few cans of your favorite soda.

After taking in as much of Taylor's half-nudity that I could legally handle as an adult woman, I glanced sideways at my teenager at the same time that she looked sidways at me, and both our jaws dropped simultaneously.

For a split second, we forgot our respective roles, and this mother and daughter were simply two women in full appreciation and awe of one of God's most beautiful creatures.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Gotta Love That Initiative!

We all want our children to be self-sufficient adults someday. To make their own decisions, forge their own paths, beat down their own doors. But when it comes to my teenager taking the reins and calling up the DMV herself to make an appointment to get her permit because her mother has been purposefully dragging her heels to do so, well, that just UNNERVES me! Who does she think she is, anyway? Someone responsible for her own future? JEEZ!

If you've been reading my blog, you know that I am FREAKED OUT about my daughter driving. I just don't think she's mature enough yet. Just the other day, for instance, we were driving around in my car with the sunroof opened. For no particular reason except that my teenager is plain crazy, she takes off her seatbelt, jumps up from her seat, sticks her head and arms out the sunroof and screams, "WHOO-HOO!"

Holy shit, I thought. "You are SO not driving!"

Personally, I think teenagers shouldn't be allowed to get their licenses until they're at LEAST 17. Make that 18. There are plenty of stories to back me up on this. (Read here.) Not to mention the ALARMING statistic that car crashes are the leading cause of death for teenagers. So why are we in such a hurry to turn the keys over to our kids?

What's interesting is that we came from SoCal where many of my daughter's friends are getting their licenses right now, at age 16.5. Up here in NorCal, the kids aren't in as much of a hurry. My daughter knows a number of 18-year-olds who still don't have their licenses. And these kids are welcome in my home ANYTIME.

So yeah, I've been ignoring my teenager's pleas to call the DMV while she's at school to make an appointment for her to get a permit, the first step she must take before she can start Driver's Training -- which I DID pay for already as a birthday gift, mind you, knowing full well that we wouldn't be cashing in on that anytime soon -- and half-hoping that she'd get sidetracked by other teenage distractions, like Homecoming, boys and SAT worries.

But that little booger has been RELENTLESS! Last week, she stopped asking me to make an appointment for her and she made one herself -- down in SoCal over Thanksgiving break, where she will be visiting her dad, who isn't as concerned as me about his teenager driving.

I gotta admire her initiative, but still . . . she is SO not driving! I need to buy some time. Time for her to grow up a little more. Time for that free-spirited brain to develop important, life-saving synapses. Time for me to model better driving habits.

I could stall and delay the inevitable a little while longer. But in the end, a neurotic mother may be no match for a determined young woman so eager to start her own journey, pedal to the metal, down her own winding road.

Monday, November 2, 2009

The Candy Witch

Now that Halloween is over, the question remains: What on earth are you going to do with all the candy that your kids brought home? There's no way I'm going to let my daughters eat all that crap! Mostly, though, I have no willpower when it comes to Snickers and if I don't get them out of my sight soon, I will soon be getting a few snickers of my own.

I wanted to tell you about this neat little trick I learned when the girls were younger. Have you heard of the Candy Witch? Yep, she's one of those magical creatures like the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny who no one ever sees, but who leaves happy kids in her wake.

So, when my daughters were younger, they would come home on Halloween night and fish out a few of their favorite pieces of candy, and we would put what was left in their bulging pillowcases on our front porch. Then we'd go to bed. Overnight, the Candy Witch (translation: ME!) would visit our house, take the bag of candy off the porch and leave toys for the girls, instead. It was the PERFECT scam! The kids got new toys and completely forgot about all that candy it cost them. (And I donated their candy to a local shelter, so it was a win-win for everyone.)

One year, I forgot to play the Candy Witch. My now-teen came to me extremely distraught the day after Halloween, upset that we had missed the big exchange. I didn't have any new toys for her and no time to go buy any, either. What else could I do but fess up? I told her there was no such thing as the "Candy Witch."

The minute I said that, I wanted to take it back. She looked like someone had just killed her puppy. She stood speechless for a moment, then I saw this lightbulb turn on in her smart little head and she said, "So, are ANY of those people real??" Meaning, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.

I gathered my courage and told her "No." And the leprechauns we built traps for in Kindergarten? No such thing, either.

And that's how my oldest little girl lost her innocence.

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