I Want to Wear Jeans at my Wedding

My daughter brought up the show "Bridezillas" at the hair salon today. I thought, "Oh boy, here we go."

She informed the hairdresser that I would be wearing jeans for my next wedding.

I held my breath. I didn't want her going on and on about the guy I have been seeing. I tend to try to keep from thinking weddings and romance with him. We just take one day at a time.

Instead, Kate goes on to talk about how these bridezillas make such a big deal over things that seem to be trivial like getting their hair and nails just right or the most expensive gown known to man or even the right shade of pink for your overpriced roses.

I had told her that material things are unimportant.

Thank God she was paying attention.

A marriage isn't about how much you can spend on one ceremony with all the trimmings. It isn't about the perfect hairstyle or the seating arrangements.

It's about the relationship. It is about how you feel about each other. It is about the fact that you plan on feeling that way about each other for a very very long time. It is about wanting to not be with anyone else. It is about wanting to continue to spend time together and to take care of each other no matter what. It should be about having good times and difficult times and living through those times together no matter what.

A marriage should last longer than the cake.

Seriously.

Some brides seems to accept a proposal just to have the big shindig. They say "yes" without looking past the white dress and big dinner.

I had to laugh when Kate said, "Going to the courthouse can be romantic, right?"

Right Kate, romance can last a lifetime if you do it right.

Raising the Almost Angelic Teen

I've had many people ask me how I do it. How do I have a teen who isn't nasty or sulky or hateful.

The following is an example of just how I do it:

Today I had a long day.

After coming back from a vacation that I didn't want to come back from to an office where the boss is grouchy and Microsoft Outlook challenging me and I had so much to do that I just didn't know where to start, it was a long day.

To add to it, I had to both exes. I usually try to avoid dealing with both of them within the same day because every time I talk to either one of them I am reminded of how much tequila is a bad, bad idea. When I talk to both within a few hours I am convinced I was drunk during the entire time of both relationships.

Seriously...

Soccer practice was cancelled and my son couldn't understand why. He thinks the head coach is the biggest pansy on the face of the earth because he didn't want to get wet. I have to agree. Soccer players play in all kinds of weather and they should have practiced regardless.

So on the way home I decide to add to my frustration and call my mother to tell her what a snotty, stuck up bitch my daughter's teacher is. She had to humiliate Katie because she forgot to bring home her spelling packet. This lead to a rant (on my mother's part) about how I need to stay home and teach my own kids. (Yeah...right....) Or I should show up at School Board meetings and voice my opinions. (Yeah...right....again...). Who has time to deal with that shit? I'm too freaking busy putting a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs.

This was not a delightful conversation and I soon regretted dialing her number.

During her rant, I am driving behind several of the biggest douche bag drivers on the planet that decide that the speed limit is too high and that they should drive 10 to 15 miles slower than what is suggested. I voiced my opinions without even attending a meeting.

Make a note, my mom doesn't like the words "douche bag".

So I get home and I am just about the crabbiest person known to man.

I don't feel like cooking and I swear if I had to deal with one more stupid person I was going to bite their head off.

I ask Brandon what he wants for dinner. I prayed he didn't want a seven course meal otherwise he would have got the Betty Crocker cookbook thrown at him. I am sure that would be frowned upon if child services found out.

He just says, "I don't know."

I grumbled.

I explained my mood and the fact that I had to go out and get another players freaking signature because he signed up late because he didn't (or his douche bag parents) realize that there were deadlines. (For the recordm I am sure that they are very nice people, however at that very moment they were douche bags.)

Brandon then suggested we go out in search of nourishment.

I called the kid's mom and said we'd be over in three minutes for the signature. She proceeded to explain how to get to her house. Mind you, I have lived here for the good part of 12 years and know exactly how to get to each and every street. I just needed a house number but she thought I needed detailed directions.

Ugh...

So I get the freaking signature and imagine this....I didn't get lost finding the house.

We pull into the neighboring town where two places to eat are. I tell him to pick one. He pulls a teenager on me and shrugs his shoulders. At this point I say through clenched teeth, "Just freaking pick one."

I like eating with him. It gives us time to talk to each other about stuff. This helps us strengthens our relationship and I don't end up with a nightmare teen like other people say they have.

He asked why I was so testy. I explained my day and then said that I need to find a way to be independantly wealthy so I don't have to work anymore. He suggested that I invent musical condoms. I busted out laughing. I then replied that it wouldn't be too hard, just need a musical chip with a motion sensor.

Yes, it may sound like an awkward conversation however it is pretty standard for us. Anyone walking by our table would have given us a funny look.

He then changed the conversation and told me that his friend Sam was getting her phone taken away and she didn't know why or for how long. I never understood this punishment. You are paying for the damn thing. Why pay for something that isn't going to be used? Duh.... be creative in your punishments. Make your kid explain why they love you or write five nice things about whoever they did wrong against.

I then asked about his day. My very atheltic son procedes to tell me how he hates swimming for gym class. He feels like a failure because he can't get the strokes right and he takes in a lot of water. I said that he didn't fail at swimming, he failed at drowning. He gave me a puzzled look and I explained that if he was successful at drowning, I would have got a call from school asking me to ID his body at the morgue. I then suggested that we pick up some arm floaty thingys.

Right then, our moods were both lifted.

After we fininshed the pizza he asked if we could go to the dollar store to pick up some arm floats with ducks on them.

Two very important lessons are:

Life is too short not to laugh and talk to your darn kids.