Friday, July 30, 2010

A day late and a dollar short

So it's July 30.

Oops.

Yesterday -- July 29 -- was the third anniversary of the first time I posted an entry on this blog.

And I forgot.

But three years is a long time.

It is the difference between an infant and a walking, talking (tantruming) child.

It is the difference between my years of horror and my years of joy.

It is the difference between a newly minted teenager and sweet 16.

It is the difference between the ramblings of a neophyte and a full-fledged member of an amazing online community.

I could write in the emptiness -- but it's much more fun with you here.

So if you usually lurk, poke your head in and say hello. If you're a regular commenter, raise your voice yet again.

And thank you for three incredible years.

Monday, July 26, 2010

The new nasties, part two

My daughter is freakin' awesome.

I just wanted to say that out loud for everyone to hear.

Last week, I mentioned the mean-girl issue we are having.

It hasn't gone away, but the cheer coaches have addressed the issue of hazing and harrassment through Facebook and Formspring in a generic manner, telling the girls in no uncertain terms that this kind of behavior will lead to suspension from the team.

Funny thing, after that, the mean girl in question made an overture of "peace." Not reconciliation, but an expression of an attempt at civility -- at least in public.

Roo accepted that.

On the surface.

But the relationship between these two girls has been irreparably broken. Both Roo and I know that this has not been resolved but has merely been hidden away from more public view.

Roo no longer posts to certain social media. I watch her friends' pages regularly for things that I need to know -- and things that need to be reported. She tells me if she has had anonymous postings of the nasty kind.

She and I are a united front against bullying and harassment.

But here is where we differ.

I know that if this were me -- if I were the one in Roo's shoes -- I would be whimpering in a corner in the fetal position.

Not my kid.

She gets up and goes to summer school and cheer practice every day with her head held high.

"I just ignore them," she told me the other day. "What else am I going to do?"

You go, girl. You be yourself -- the awesome, amazing, adorable, fan-freaking-tastic Roo-girl.

Meanwhile, the raging Mama Bear within me stays on guard -- and is gratified by the one piece of the karma wheel that I can control:

You do NOT want to mess with the daughter of the official cheer team photographer.

Hey, I said SHE was awesome. I didn't say I was.


Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms

Monday, July 19, 2010

The new nasties

Back when I was a teen, girls were mean.

When someone wanted to hurt someone else, it was easy. Just start a whisper campaign. Rumors and gossip spread like wildfire, but they would just as quickly die down when another juicy rumor surfaced.

Today girls are still mean, but they have so many more resources at their disposal.

There is texting. There is Facebook.

And then there is Formspring, a forum for people to ask "questions" of -- or make comments about -- others.

The Roo-girl once joined a Facebook group that was called something like "Formspring: causing teen suicides since 2009." (I looked for it to get the exact title, but it seems to have gone away.)

Formspring makes the whisper campaigns look like rainbows and unicorns.

We are currently in the midst of some drama in our house. The specifics are unimportant, but the outcome is a Formspring vendetta (with a little Facebook thrown in for good measure) that is so intensely cruel and malicious that it makes my head spin -- and my little girl cry.

We have a new philosophy about the particular mean girl in question: Walk away and pay it no mind because the girl is only as powerful as you allow her to be.

So Roo pushes on, while petulant little girls write trash and pump it into cyberspace, where it travels far and wide. And forever.

She hurts.

And I? I want to hurt someone.


Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Weekly Winners: July 11-17


Every time I think I am going to get back into the Weekly Winners swing, something happens ... and I don't.

But this week, I'm celebrating the arrival of my new and improved phone -- so my first shot is compliments of the new and improved oh-so-crisp-and-high-resolution camera that is included with it!

Can you just TOUCH those raindrops? I surprised even myself.

Next up was the cheer team pool party -- which I attended even though the Roo-girl was not there (she was celebrating her birthday with her grandparents for the weekend). Yeah, I think I AM a glutton for punishment.

Anyway, neither of these two photos are my child. Just to make it clear.


Everybody toe-touch into the pool!


Water baby:

There are more photographers listed at Lotus' place. Check out their weekly winners too!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Birthday dinner: just a taste of things to come

No, we haven't had the Roo-girl's official birthday dinner. But on the evening of her actual natal day, we did have dinner -- just Wonderhubby, Z-man, Roo and me -- at the Italian restaurant that Z worked at for the last year.

It was just an appetizer, since the whole clan is gathering Sunday for the main course.

But that doesn't mean that we didn't have the usual fun times.

Evil Mother: So we met these two guys from Virginia ...

The Roo-girl: Is Virginia in the south?

Evil Mother: Uh, yeah. It is. In the south.

The Roo-girl: Then ... um ... why do they call it WEST Virginia?

*A moment of silence -- followed by hysterical laughter*

The Roo-girl: Oh ... I guess because it's west of Virginia.

Evil Mother: *unable to answer -- or breathe, for that matter*

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wonderhubby: So when are we going to be able to watch the tape of "True Blood"?

Evil Mother: I have no idea ... not till Thursday or Friday night, probably. Although we COULD watch it early in the morning.

Z-man: I like to start my morning with a little "House."


Evil Mother: *drools slightly* Oooooh, I DO love "House." Hugh Laurie?? Yum!


Wonderhubby: House is such an ass, though.

Evil Mother: Yeah, I guess I just love those bad boys. And House is the best and baddest.

Z-man: *equally drooly* Oh yeah, me too. Love that Dr. House.


Evil Mother: *reaches over to high-five Z-man*


The Roo-girl: *shudders* AWKWARD!!!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And just for the record, the restaurant's soup of the day -- cream of asparagus -- featured REAL asparagus.

Don't ask me how I know. I just do.

You're welcome.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Oh, my baby ...

Sixteen years ago today -- at 10:32 a.m. -- I gave birth to 7 pounds, 4 ounces of Barbie pink and unconditional love, with a little high-maintenance drama thrown in for good measure.
We named her after my grandmothers -- both of them deceased, as is Jewish custom. Through their names, she carries a legacy of the strong women of my family. Matriarchs with the ability to make things happen.

And don't you dare cross me, young lady.

Sixteen years ago, I had no idea what was ahead of me. Up till then, I had raised boys.

As a former tomboy, I was mentally equipped to handle snips and snails and puppy dog tails. I was clueless when it came to sugar and spice and everything nice.

But I learned.

Fast.

I learned how to make tea parties. I learned how to french braid hair. And I learned to love the color pink.
As a joke, my girlfriend used to whisper in her ear, "Can you say 'Nordstrom'? Can you say 'Nieman-Marcus'?"

But we quickly realized the joke was on me.


Because I had somehow -- in my my infinite wisdom -- given birth to the girliest of girly-girls.

Dollies? Yes.

Lace? You bet.

Jewelry? Even at the age of 2.

Her birthday present at the age of 4 was trip to the mall with Mom to buy clothes -- topped off her choice of a lacy dress from the cart in the middle of the mall.

She wore that dress until the lace frayed and tore.

The years flew by.

She was in kindergarten. Fifth grade. Middle school. High school.

She learned to read. She learned to write. She learned to put together "outfits." She learned to wear makeup.

She learned to cheer.

Now she learns to drive -- and prepares to apply to college.

Where did my baby go?

She has been replaced by a lovely young woman.

Still Barbie pink, filled with unconditional love and high-maintenance drama.

And today she is 16.

Happy birthday, my beautiful Roo-girl.

Fly with the eagles ...

 
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