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Conversations with a Pre*teen

6 Sep

Conversations with a Pre*Teen

“He knows some shit”

While riding in the car to school this morning, the song “drunk on a plane” by Dierks Bentley was on the radio softly playing the background of our morning conversations. Reilly, my 12 year old was singing along.

Trying not to make a big deal about it, I chime in.

“It’s not that appropriate for a kid to say ‘drunk’. Do you know what that even means?” I say, knowing that he knew what the word was, to an extent. I mean, at 12, you’ve already seen some shit and heard some shit.

“Yeah, Mom, I know what it means.” He says with his pre-teen “know-it-all” attitude.

“Okay, can you tell me what you think it means?” I ask.

“It’s when you drink too much alcohol.” He proceeds opening his eyes freakishly wide. “It affects your minnnnnnnnnnnd and makes you act all crazy and lose your thoughts.” He pauses for a brief second. “It hurts your brain.” He says all theatrically, waving his arms all around in an ape like manner.

“Oh yeah!?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, it’s like this for an example.” He starts in seriously.
“I think this might be the best way I can describe it. It’s like a phone that needs to be updated. It lags before the update, then it updates, resets, rests and it gets better. It works better.”

“Ohhh?” I asked, trying to understand his thought process of relating being “drunk” to a phone that needs to be updated. 🤷🏼‍♀️

“Yeah, it’s like not working. Your brain isn’t working and it makes all your internal organs and insides mad and not work.” He says with distinct truth.

“Oh, that’s an interesting comparison, Reilly.” I say, trying to say as little as possible. I can see the wheels moving and he has more to say…

“It impairs your function, mom.” He explains.

I paused. I let his knowledge of this topic sink in for a moment and I quickly realized that I am thankful for having this impromptu conversation about real life with him.

“You. Are. Absolutely. Right. It does impair your basic functions. Like walking, talking or driving…” I stated.

Being blown away with his knowledge of how alcohol affects your body I had to ask…

“So, where did you learn all of that, Reilly?” I ask, in hopes he doesn’t tell an embarrassing story he witnessed. 🙈

“I learned it watching a documentary!” He exclaims.

(phewwwwww)

“Okay…” I say, knowing he has watched many documentaries in his short existence.

“But, you do know… talking about being drunk isn’t appropriate for your age… and….”

“I know mom.” Reilly interrupts.

“Okay, because you aren’t even allowed to drink alcohol until you’re 21. When you turn 21 you can decide for yourself what you want to do. Some people take drinking alcohol to the extreme and don’t know when they need to stop. This makes them drunk and impairs their judgement and sometimes they make very bad choices. Like getting behind the wheel and driving…” I say again with a very serious voice. Since we are driving, I thought it was fitting.

“They also make choices to stay home and hang out with their friends being silly until like 3 in the morning, mom” He says, laughing like he’s seen or knows something.

“Yeah, that’s true Reilly. Those are called responsible drunk people.” I say laughing back.

If I can do anything with my children, I want to be open and honest with them. I want to teach them about their choices in life and how each choice can make a difference in their path in life. But, mostly I want them to know it’s always their choice. I can only hope they make the best choice. I can only hope I have raised them in the direction they must go by being an example. Not a perfect example, but a real one.

I love having these random conversations with my pre-teen. Although he drives me insane at times and I seriously worry about his future, it’s times like this that I am reassured that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he will ultimately make the good choices. Even if making a few bad ones along the way teach him that.

Love and Laughs!

April

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‘Tis the season for ‘no good deed goes unpunished’

2 Dec

Disclaimer:

This post contains the word FUCK. If you do give a fuck about that, then don’t read it. But, if you don’t give a fuck, then you should proceed.. or don’t, I don’t give a fuck really. Happy Holidays 🙂

 

When I was younger I recall my father telling me that “No good deed goes unpunished”. Being young, I really didn’t know exactly what that meant. But, as the years have passed since then, I have come to realize the harsh reality of which and it has led me to understand: CARING TOO MUCH CAN FUCK YOU OVER! annnnnnnd it does…

but,

I have always been one to care {doh!}. I have a simple, yet giving heart which controls my need to always put my neck out… and more often than not, my neck gets blown off. {I envision the alien guy, Jeebs, from the movie Men In Black, when he gets his head shot off, he just grows another – yeah, that’s me}

You’d think after having my good deeds backfire time and time again that I would take a note from  Rhett Butler and just say “FRANKLY, MY DEAR, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN”.

frankly my dear

But I can’t.

Thus lies the crossroads to giving a shit and the need to stop giving a shit. It’s a shitty sticky situation {say that 10x fast}.

The holiday season is full of passion, giving, cheerfulness and… assholes. Is it just me, or do the majority of assholes {not all of them} just stay indoors all year long and the second the holidays come around, they decide to shit on all of the rest of us normal people who give a fuck? They are everywhere. {And possibly reading this right now. Well, can I just say that I am OVER YOU! Go back home and shit in your own yard. Yeah, you!}

I can’t even tell you how many times I have had done something nice and have had it backfire on me. I’m a genuinely caring person, so I’m not sure what karma is doing to me, but I am fucking paying! I can only think that maybe in a past life I really didn’t give a fuck, let alone give two fucks, and now I am reaping all that built up bad karma from the old me. Like the “past life me” pushed grandma’s down stairs, told mom’s their babies were ugly, and stole money from the Salvation Army bucket. Not a single fuck was given from the “past life me”. Well SCREW YOU OLD PAST LIFE ME!

I digress…

So, today, while driving to Longs Drugs {yes, its’ still called ‘Longs’ here in Hawaii. They {{meaning whomever showed up at the meeting that day}} thought it best not to confuse the people of Hawaii. We would notice that the name changed to CVS, and clearly not know what the CVS stands for and probably not shop there anymore. I don’t know what our obsession is of ‘Longs’, but it’s deep and should not be fucked with. #LONGLIVELONGS. FOREVER}….anywho…

Oh brah, right… So I was driving through the Longs parking lot when I saw a man backing out of his spot in the next row. I wasn’t planning on parking there but I couldn’t help but see how sharply he was backing out, and before I knew it, this guy backed into the car parked beside him. This guy clearly didn’t give a fuck and started to drive off! I, giving a fuck, noticed this guy trying to drive off.  I quickly pulled into a stall and ran out to yell at him. I was throwing up my hands and yelling. I simple knew this asshole wasn’t going to stop, so I used my Jedi skills and memorized his license plate as he drove away. I waited for a bit thinking he would come back… the asshole didn’t! So I started to write a note to the person he hit when she came out of the store. I approached her and told her the story and gave her the man’s license plate number. She was clearly thankful and appreciative of me. She continued to embellish that there should be more people in the world like me. You’re welcome. {duh, I’ve been trying to tell you that for how long now?}. I felt ten-feet tall. I went into the store and did my shopping with a smile on my face. I think I was even humming a Christmas Carol – okay so it was Miranda Lamberts’ “Gravity is a bitch”, but dammnit I was humming! I even let someone go ahead of me in line. I was happy. I was cheerful. I loaded my gifts and jumped in my truck, Big Blue….

Now, I can’t tell you for sure, but once I saw it, I think the words  “WHAT THAAA FUCK” echoed loudly from my mouth. Loudly. There it was. A ticket on my windshield. Apparently when I pulled quickly into the stall to chase down Christmas Asshole, I had parked in the middle of two stalls. Annnnnnnd apparently this is frowned upon in the Longs’ parking lot. Now…, let me tell you that there was NO ONE, repeat it, NO FUCKING ONE parked in that row. There wasn’t even a half-full parking lot. It was as crowded as the “Gun Buy-Back” in California. There was hardly anyone there. Annnnd the people who were there were either scoring on returning something that was broken, or they didn’t know why they were there to begin with {hey guys, there’s a line, let’s stand in it} annnnnd I was the asshole that took up two spots… oh no! Fuck you! I was the “good Samaritan” trying to help a neighbor out and accidentally parked in two spots. Thanks. You just made my day!

I, however, with a Grinchly grin, shoved the ticket in the compartment of my middle conceal, flipped off the security guard and drove away. Ya know, because how else should we react to being screwed over… again. It was either that, or mail the ticket to the nice lady I had just helped. Assholes!

If it wasn’t this event that happened today it was the one that happened last week at work {If you don’t have enough money to tip, you don’t have enough money to eat at a restaurant, especially my restaurant where I give my all and not for minimum wage you jerk}… Or it would be the one that will positively happen next month.  It’s a vicious cycle of good and punishment.

Just keep swimming… just keep swimming.

Thus, ‘Tis the season for ‘No good deed goes un-punished’ is giving me a new outlook on life. I shall start my research on “How to not give a fuck” and let you know how it turns out.

giving a fuck

 

 

 

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Ninja Sleep – Introduction

10 Feb

When my husband and I were dating before we got married I used to get really jealous of his super-human ability to fall asleep once his head hit his pillow. I still don’t know how he does it, but I just deal with it differently now. He used to tell me crazy things to help myself fall asleep faster too, like “just close your eyes and think about something soothing – ya know, like crashing waves or something like that”. I used to roll my eyes and ignore his ridiculous regimen and try again to think about anything other than the racing thoughts that were going through my head. There was no way I could just stop the madness and think about one thing to soothe myself to sleep.

One night I lied short of screaming obscenities into my pillow and decided to take his advice and I tried to focus on the “waves crashing” idea. I took some deep breaths and tried to clear my head and picture the ocean, the waves and their sounds. That’s when my mind started to wonder like it typically does… Was it Summer or Winter waves that were crashing? Would it be day or nighttime waves? Was the tide high or low? Would there be a break in-between sets? Were the waves crashing on rocks or sand? Because, EVERYONE knows that they make different sounds when crashing on sand vs. rocks…

Soon the “waves crashing” would turn into memories of growing up in Southern California and going to Oceanside Harbor beach and getting sucked under the waves and being covered in seaweed and trying not to get attacked by jellyfish. Then I would start to think about Jellyfish… and how you’re supposed to pee on any and all Jellyfish stings because, well it’s just funny. I’d then giggle a little while I reminisced of a certain Jellyfish sting incident I had a few years back. Then, with all those thoughts of peeing and the ocean, I would with no doubt have to get up for a bathroom break. I’d sit there on the toilet while one or two drops of pee would come out and I’d crawl back into bed. I’d lay down to the sound of my husbands loud snoring and I’d get even more livid. I’d let out a “mother F’er” under my breath and I’d proceed to accidentally cough, sneeze or “flop” down on the bed quickly to startle his sleep. I’d do this just because I was mad that he had fallen asleep so quickly and I was too busy to sleep because I was thinking about the hilarious cure for a Jellyfish sting! I needed to interrupt him. It’s only fair. He’d mumble something while he turned over like “uhhh get those shelves over there and hold them here while I measure the distance to that counter with the uhh, with the uhhhh… Can you do that? You’re not doing it….fine, I’ll do it myself. Please move your blocking my waaaa….” then he’d stop, mid sleep sentence and not 3 seconds later he’d start laughing. What was funny? What did I miss? Then a few seconds after that, he’d be snoring again. True story. This happens at least 5-7 days a week.

I love my husband, he has SO many awesome talents, but, like most husbands, has some not… so…. awesome… talents.

BUT…

For whatever reason, God has given my husband the gift ability to have full on action packed dreams. Not only are his dreams very verbal, but they are a full on production. He is in full movement and you’d better be ready to improv or else he gets mad at you for not wanting to help him hold up the paper Chinese lantern you have hanging over your bed at 2am. It’s sooo heavy and its going to fall and crush us all! Ahhhhh!

I have learned the hard way that it is near impossible to have a full nights sleep with my husband {having kids is the easy part}. His “sleep-walking”  dreams {to call it that, is an injustice I assure you} are so intense sometimes that they become hazardous. To this day I have wanted to set up a camera just to record his dreams. He refuses to let me because he is scared of actually seeing himself in Dream Ninja Action Mode {“D-NAM “or “DNA-mode”? I can’t decide}. I don’t blame him, but what about the rest of us! Why can’t we have a little fun at his expense… I vote ‘yes’!

Okay, so since I can’t show you an awesome sleep ninja video, I’ll just have to share some stories…. But that might have to be a different time for a different post because I am tired! BUT FIRST I have to try to fall asleep…

{lays down, closes eyes. Images of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches dancing around appear in my head. This is obviously my subconscious storing the information about what my son will be eating for school lunch tomorrow. Peanut butter and jelly.

Jelly.

Jellyfish.

Back to the Jellyfish. Another chuckle… hehehe…pee}

Oh damn.

“Found out today that you are supposed to pee on a Jellyfish sting,
NOT
a jelly stain.
Sorry strange lady at the waffle house.
I was merely trying to help.”

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