Mom To The Rescue!

In August, my two daughters and I left Orange County, California, where I lived for 23 years, and moved up to a quiet, small town in Northern California. I wrestled with my consicence countless nights, wondering if I was doing the right thing, whether it was fair to my daughters to uproot them from a place that they called home all their lives, a place where they both had a gaggle of good friends.

I was especially concerned about moving my teenager, who was on the brink of turning 16 and would be a junior in high school. Would she be able to adapt and make new friends?

As we come toward the end of this year, which has been a crazy one, to say the least, I look back and realize that I did the right thing by moving up here with my children. Not only are we surrounded by my extended family, but my teenager told me something the other day that gave me a renewed appreciation for our new home.

She told me that a number of the kids that she hung out with in Orange County, girls who she had known since middle school, are now into drinking and drugs, and a few of them are sleeping around with boys. This was my daughter's pack! Her she-wolves. The girls she spent the night with, met at the mall and sunbathed next to on the beach. Girls who had a tremendous influence on her in her adolescent years.

I have to wonder: Had we stayed down in Southern California, would my teenager be involved in the same "extracurricular" activities? Hard to say. I'd like to think that I infused some morals and ethics into her, that given the choice between doing drugs and not doing them, that she would choose to say, "No, thanks." But peer groups can make a powerful impact on teenagers. I'm really not sure what the outcome would have been.

Yes, teens are pretty much the same everywhere. Drugs, drinking, sex and rude behavior are part of the teen culture no matter where you live. But trust me, the kids up here are A LOT nicer, a little more naiive and way more wholesome. And that's just fine with me. There are plenty of years ahead for her to be tempted by these vices. No need to rush into it. She's only 16, and there's nothing wrong with her holding onto her innocence a little bit longer.

As far as I'm concerned, it wasn't a move we made back in August. It was a rescue.

WHAT Global Warming??

I know for sure that the scientists really did fudge all that data in the global warming study, because when my daughters and I woke up this morning, we got a wonderful surprise. Overnight it had snowed! I know this is no big deal to many of you who live in snow country, but you have to understand that it NEVER snows in this part of Northern California.

Well, not NEVER. But RARELY. In fact, the last time it ever snowed here was back in 1976, when I was in high school. And the time before that was way back in 1888. So, yeah, snow on the ground here is a total fluke.

We were so excited! We made hot chocolate and pulled back the curtains looking out into our backyard so that we could look at the white grass while sucking on our morning cereal. Pretty thrilling for a few transplants from Southern California!

Last week, I dragged my boxed Christmas tree to the backyard to fumigate it. I found a Black Widow spider in it and was worried that she had laid eggs inside some of the branches. This was one blessed birth that I didn't want to celebrate on Christmas morning, especially right there in my living room, so upon the advice of my exterminator, I threw a flea bomb in the box and let it air out for a few days. Then a few more days passed, and then a couple more because I was too lazy to bring the tree in and decorate it. Last night, it snowed on top of the box, so now I have a fake tree with real snow on it, which is usually the opposite of what most people get -- a real tree flocked with that fake, clumpy, sticky white stuff.

This white stuff, my friends, is the REAL thing!

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.

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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.

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A New Life Up North

Oh, God, it's been a long time since I blogged! I'm not even sure I remember how. I feel like a virgin on her wedding night, all nervous and unsure. When you stop blogging, it becomes easier and easier not to dedicate yourself to it every day. Life takes over. Priorities become more clear. THINGS GET DONE! I didn't realize how much time I was wasting sitting on my ass in front of the computer until I stopped blogging.

But I had to kick the habit for a while because my daughters and I moved up north to a smaller town and a simpler life. After living in The O.C. for 23 years, I had had enough of Paradise and the pursuit of perfection, and decided what really mattered was being around my family. It's funny. I left this area so many years ago to get away from my family, and they are the reason I have returned -- with a family of my own to add to the mix!

I felt guilty at first, dragging my daughters away from a place where they were born and raised, away from friends they have known for practically all their lives. But that little voice inside me, the one that is always right, kept assuring me that something much better awaited them up here. And darnit if that know-it-all voice wasn't right again! We were immediately embraced by a very large circle of sisters and brothers and cousins and aunts and uncles and dogs and cats and babies yet unborn. They didn't care that we had been gone so long. They were just glad we had found our way home. We are now A-Listers at all the family BBQs and get-togethers. We are like the new toy at Christmas that everyone wants to play with. My children and I are where we belong, surrounded by love and lasting connection. And the sense of peace is indescribable.

They do things differently up here. For one, my daughters already started school, while SoCal kids are still enjoying a lazy summer at the beach. I was worried about their first day of school. Would they meet new friends right away? Or would they be sitting alone at lunch, which is always the kiss of death for any new kid. I was especially concerned about my teenager, who is a junior now. Starting over midway through high school is a real challenge, but she was up for it. She told me before we moved that she was ready for a change, too.

Five minutes after I dropped her off at school that first day, I get a text message from her that said, "I feel like I'm going to throw up!" (Oh, no, now I really felt guilty!) She met a few people that day, but she still felt like an outsider. We had a long talk that night, about birds of a feather flocking together or something and such. I told her to be patient, that she would eventually find her flock.

As it turned out, her flock found her. She has been at this new high school for only three days, and today in homeroom, the entire class "interviewed" her. They asked her all sorts of questions about herself and where she came from. The question that was on everyone's mind was, "You lived in Orange County and moved HERE? Why??" (That's the question I get from everyone, too.) So when she walked into the lunch area, about 4-5 people from her homeroom were shouting at her to come sit with them. One guy yelled, "Hey, there's the OC girl!" She was at the center of a bidding war.

On the way home she said, "I really love my new school!"

Boxes are unpacked, kids are settled into school, new friendships are being forged. Operation Relocation is complete.

And we're going to be just fine.

Island Wisdom

On Saturday, I strolled through Balboa Island in Newport Beach with a good friend. Another single mother with a teenager. It's a darling little beach town dotted with million-dollar cottages and alluring boutiques.

We walked into a store called Heart of the Island, a gallery featuring the works of Southern California artists. Decorative ceramics, paintings, whimsical gifts, that kind of thing. My friend and I were discussing teenagers, our favorite and sometimes not-so-favorite topic, and right on cue, I walk by this framed poem titled, "Teen Creed." While I had promised myself that I wouldn't be buying anything that day, this item fell under that "It's Fate and you just have to get it" category.

Besides, I didn't buy it for ME, I bought it for my teenager, the alien. It's full of wisdom to help teens through those difficult teen years. (I am hoping that the quip about driving resonates the most with my daughter.) The shopkeeper told me that Oprah read this on her show not too long ago. I've pasted it below.

But what really sold me on this poem was the signature at the end. It was signed, "Lynn," as if I had written it myself. (The real writer's name is Lynn Kessinger.)

No matter how hard you try to resist the call of the wild, spontaneous purchase, some things were just meant to be yours.


Teen Creed

Don’t let your parents down,
They brought you up.

Be humble enough to obey,
You may give orders someday.

Choose companions with care,
You become what they are.

Guard your thoughts,
What you think, you are.

Choose only a date
Who would make a good mate.

Be master of your habits,
Or they will master you.

Don’t be a showoff when you drive,
Drive with safety and arrive.

Don’t let the crowd pressure you,
Stand for something . . .
Or you’ll fall for anything.

Swine!

This is a blog about raising teenagers, but today I speak to all parents, all over the world. I don't watch much news over the weekend, so imagine my surprise when I log onto my computer this morning and the first thing I see is Janet Napolitano, the Homeland Security Secretary, declaring a public health emergency over the outbreak of Swine Flu in this country.

So far, about 20 cases have been reported in New York, Texas, Ohio, Kansas and California. All mild cases. But in Mexico, more than 100 people have died from this flu strain. I'm not real confident that the already flimsy border between the U.S. and Mexico will be able to keep this flu from spreading.

I live in Southern California, and so far, there are seven reported cases in San Diego. That's about 70 miles down the freeway from me. A little too close for comfort.

We haven't reached that state of precaution yet where we should keep our children home from school, but I do envy all those moms who are homeschooling their children today. Since I outsource my kids' schooling every day, the only thing I could do was strongly urge them to duck into the bathroom at school to wash their hands.

I think I will put on my "To Do" list today: 1. Stock up on anti-bacterial soap 2. Buy three face masks at Home Depot (just trying to be prepared!)

How about you parents in other countries? Are you as concerned as we are here in the U.S.?


How can you prevent the Swine Flu from infecting your household? Here are some tips from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention:

* Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you cough or sneeze. Throw the tissue in the trash after you use it.

* Wash your hands often with soap and water, especially after you cough or sneeze. Alcohol-based hands cleaners are also effective.

* Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth. Germs spread that way. Try to avoid close contact with sick people.

Influenza is thought to spread mainly person-to-person through coughing or sneezing of infected people. If you get sick, CDC recommends that you stay home from work or school and limit contact with others to keep from infecting them.

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A Perfect Day For Vampires

It's a hazy, overcast day in Southern California. No sun in sight. A perfect day for vampires. (Isn't today the first day of spring??) I just made a pizza run (2 large pepperoni-and-sausage pies) for two teens and two almost-theres who are huddled around our flat-screen TV watching the movie "Twilight," which was just released on DVD last night at 12:01 a.m. Let the stampede begin!

My teen had been BEGGING me for two weeks to reserve a copy. I didn't feel the same urgency, knowing full well that Paramount, or whatever greedy movie studio owns this movie, has made sure that supply will well exceed demand.

When I surprised her with the DVD today (a spontaneous purchase, on my part), she squealed. No lie. And then she invited a friend over to watch it. I was amused at how excited they were to see a movie they had both already seen, one that had so much hype behind it the first time and exhausted her so emotionally, how could there possibly be any thrills left?

I tried to remember what movie made me feel that way when I was a teen. "Grease?" (I loved the sexual tension between John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John!) "Wizard of Oz?" (Nah, didn't stir up my hormones quite the same way) Oh, OK . . . "The Way We Were" with Barbara Streisand and Robert Redford. Yep, that movie was my "Twilight." I still recall the palpable longing and desire the two had for each other in the final scene when Redford is hailing a cab in New York and catches a glimpse of Streisand across the street. She turns toward him, their eyes meet and BINGO! We witness a rare moment: true love.

Maybe that's what is keeping these girls so quiet in the next room. A chance to witness that miracle for a second time. We all dream of true love, no matter what our age. (Some of us even pray we get a second shot at it!) I can only hope for my teen and tween that their real-life encounter with true love someday will be well worth the price of admission.

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I Rock!

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On the Disney Cruise last year, my teen met a boy named Chris from Wisconsin. Though they met just two days before the cruise ended, they hit it off immediately and have been chatting on the phone, texting and IMing ever since, and as a result, a strong friendship has blossomed. She once even told me that Chris was her best friend. How sweet, but how sad, too, I thought. She finally meets a really nice boy and he lives clear across the country.

A month ago, my teen told me she wanted to go to her school’s Valentine’s Dance. It’s a tradition for the girls to ask the guys, and she didn’t know who to ask. I suggested she ask Chris, knowing deep-down that it really wasn’t geographically viable, but I thought it would at least make her feel better that she had someone to ask. Well, to my great surprise, Chris said yes, that his parents would let him fly out here from Wisconsin to go to the Valentine’s dance with her! Then she asked me if it would be OK if he stayed with us because he doesn’t know anyone in Southern California.

Uh-oh. I hadn’t planned on this outcome. Should I let a boy, who my 15-year-old really, really likes, stay with us for two whole nights and three days, though I don’t know him at all myself? The protective, Emily Post side of me said, “No. This doesn’t look proper.” But the historian in me, the one who looks back on my own teen years and wishes I had more unforgettable moments to recall, as this one surely will be for my daughter someday, said, “Sure, why not?”

“Mom, you rock!” My teen likes me. She really likes me.

So Chris comes out tomorrow, Friday the 13th. (I am so excited for them!) And while the two decided not to go to the dance after all, we plan to give the Midwesterner a short, but grand, tour of Southern California.

While we're busy making memories, I’ll keep you posted. Emily Posted.

Oh, and the sleeping arrangements? Chris will be slumbering in my teen’s bed, and she’ll be sleeping with me.

And I’m a very light sleeper ;).

(I'm curious: What would you have done in my situation?)

Where Are All The Mens?

Image by Saintbridge via Flickr

It's Super Bowl Sunday, and you know what that means?? It's THE best day of the year to run errands and get all your items checked off your "TO DO" list because there is NOBODY around, Ladies!

Today was multi-tasker heaven! I was the first car at all the traffic lights; I zipped through the express lane at Ralph's with more than 10 items and didn't feel guilty about it; and best of all, there were very few cars in the drive-thru at In 'N Out. I literally got in and out -- and that, my friends, is a small miracle at the most popular burger joint in Southern California.

It's a ghost town out there because everyone who calls himself an American is plopped in front of a flat-screen TV somewhere spooning up chili and watching that overrated match-up between the Steelers and the Cardinals (at least I think that's who's playing!) Including my teen and tween, who are with their dad at his annual Super Bowl gala, but probably wishing they were with me. (They're not big football fans, either.)

I'll admit it's quite nice to have the whole town to myself, practically. While there were a few other women out and about, with whom I exchanged that knowing "aren't-we-the-smart-ones?" glance, I did miss seeing men around. Especially in Home Depot.

A world without men. It was a little eerie.

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Loving Mom Or Litterbug?

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Can we talk about those octuplets? Everyone else is. I know this topic doesn't have anything to do with teens, but it will in 13 years! I'm just a little ahead of my time.

In case you haven't heard, a 35-year-old woman in Whittier, California (that's in Southern California, BTW), just gave birth to EIGHT children! Amazingly, they are all thriving, though still pretty small. I think the smallest one weighs about a pound. The first day the news came out, it was celebratory and joyous: "WOMAN GIVES BIRTH TO OCTUPLETS AND THEY'RE ALL HEALTHY!" Then, as the media put this woman under their overnight microscope, they dug up some disparaging facts about her: She's a single mom, no father around, unemployed, on welfare, can't pay her medical bills, lives with her parents, and get this . . . she already has SIX children (two sets of twins included)!

So now this woman, a media darling just a few days ago, is being crucified in public, and everyone has an opinion (including me). A good majority think that this woman has no right to give birth to all those children because she can't even afford to take care of the six she already has. Some are faulting the hospital that assisted her in the fertility treatments. Others think she turned herself into a baby machine to scam and milk the government for public assistance.

And then there's the taxpayer argument. All those good, tax-paying citizens are enraged that they now have to foot the bill for raising these octuplets. Come on! Lame argument. Yes, we pay taxes, but do we REALLY know where our tax dollars are going besides to help bail out billionaire crooks? The government can't even keep track of the $2.7 trillion in taxes it collects every year. Our tax dollars pay for a lot of things: educating our young, repairing potholes, warmongoring and the like. So what if we're buying a few diapers and some formula, too? Spread the wealth, as our new president says!

But the scariest debate I have been following is the one about how there should be some government measures in place to limit the number of children women have based on their economic status. In other words, if you're poor and can't afford to mother even one child, you shouldn't be allowed to have 14.

For the record, I think this woman is NUTS! As a single mother of two children who keep me sprinting all day long, I can't understand why another single mother of SIX children would want to take on EIGHT more! That's just crazy math.

But the point is . . . it's her life. It's her choice. If she wants to have another litter after this one, we have no right to tell her that she can't. That's what's so great about this FREE country that we live in.

And whoever doesn't like our limitless options, can pack their bags and move to China, where, I understand, the government has been known to take a very active role in matters of childbirth.

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