Spring Break

Hello and long time no report! A shout out to Dani for reminding me to sit and write! Spring Break? It's Winter Break, you say. Spring Break is a reference not to that week off in the spring, but to my daughter who parades around the house as though she were on spring break. Try not to picture it, help it if you can--a 14-year-old in a sports bra and underwear pulled into her crack cruising through the house like it's no one's business. While we get on this girl and MAKE it our business...she still manages to drop our jaws on a daily basis. We actually have to remind her every time she steps out of her room that she needs SOMETHING on, ANYTHING, we say--a towel would be great! The robe not so much. It's no use to me when she doesn't use the sash to tie it around her, you know? I hope someday a man somewhere will come to love her for who she is in all her gassy (man-size gas), toe-nail chewing, naked-jaunting, nose-picking, clothes mismatched glory. Gotta love this girl--and we do, we all do.
Apparently so does "Jonah." He's her 'boyfriend.' I use the quotes because he doesn't have any classes with her and I'm not sure he's aware of his end of the deal. Her drama queen girlfriend, Alli, who I now call Allidrama, told her the other day that Kindsay's boyfriend had been shot by some kid and was in the ER. Take every female hormone, combine it into a seismic ball of emotions, hold it in with a vengeance, then let it go. THAT was Kindsay upon hearing about her beloved. A complete fabrication on her fantastically imaginative friend's part, but the tears were real, the sobbing, the mania...I just sat in my room on my bed on top of the covers, hands folded in my lap, and had a glazed stare at nothing just wishing the day would end. Telling Kindsay that Alli is making it up is like me telling her there's no Santa. What? You didn't know I guess, Kindsay is the last of my children to believe in Santa and her wish list this year warrants framing and a bundle of apologies from the North Pole since it's NOT GONNA HAPPEN. Sorry, Kinds...you aren't getting a Chihuahua nor are you getting a cell phone. Santa's gonna be a bummer this year~! (maybe it's better I let him take the heat.)
TOP IT OFF...Adult children are NOT easier than toddlers--don't let anyone fool you. ENJOY your little ones, while you have some measure of control over them. Adult children think they know everything, just like when they were fourteen, except now they want to go act on it all because the magical number is theirs. Oh brother.
Top it off with my youngest son losing his progress report for 3 days, while everyday I say, "did you turn it in???" He tells me, I can't find it. I can't find it. I even saw him on his knees praying to find it because I had grounded him until it surfaced. I finally checked his backpack. The only thing in it? His progress report. I told him he had a concussion that caused brain injury...bad idea. He casually explained to big brother while decorating the tree that he was brain injured. Can't have him going to school and reporting to his teacher...whoops. On top of that he wants to be a substitute teacher because he asked me how much his mom's friend made subbing in his class and I told him a hundred bucks. Eyes lite up, dollar signs popped around his head...I look right in the camera and shake my head. Let's just say I gave birth to Yvette Jr. and Greg Jr. In my next life, I'm running off to Greenwich Village, getting a job as a corporate lawyer, and buying a dog. hmmm...scratch the dog.