My, How Time Flies

Chaos is fixing to be 17 next week. There are days when it is practically impossible to believe that many years have passed since I held his wee baby self in my arms for the first time. Other days I wonder how he's not 30 yet. Ahhhh, motherhood.

Recently Chaos has become somewhat health conscious. He's eating fewer pop-tarts and more grilled chicken salad. He has for a while wanted to start lifting weights, but has not at all wanted to join a gym. The obvious solution? A home gym! Yes, yes. Soooo easy to figure out for a teenager with limited bedroom space and parents in two different states 500 miles apart. Nonetheless! I absolutely love lifting weights and think the overall well-being benefits of lifting far outweigh the hassles. So look what Chaos got for an early birthday present*:

(Some assembly required.)


I had a little help.


And I mean a very little help.


Apparently, it is important to nap on exercise equipment as you're putting it together. 16 and 11/12ths being such an exhausting age and all. What do you think? Is what the fitness books mean by stretching first?



We did finally get it completely assembled. (After a mere two days.) That was four days ago. It took until yesterday for any iron to be pumped. But I totally understand this. After all, apples don't fall far from the trees now, do they? Chaos comes by his "fixing to get ready to get started" tendencies honestly. None of that jumping right in for us - nosiree! Well...actually I'm getting better at it. Turns out, the more you do, the more you can do, and the more new things don't need so much preparation. I'm trying to start passing that on. It's been fun helping Chaos with the workout endeavor. I've really enjoyed the whole process of figuring out what he needs, what workouts he's willing to learn to do, what he wants out of it, what he thinks is "lame", etc. I'm looking forward to spotting for him today and maybe lifting a little myself. But I'm not so much looking forward to disassembling that sucker for the drive back to TN at the end of the summer!! Oh - and have you noted that this monster is in my LIVING ROOM?? You know I love my son when I let that happen, even if it is just for a couple of months. I think it's going to live in the garage at his dad's but I don't have to worry about that part of things. On the plus side, weights are quieter overall than drum sets. See - I am such a glass-half-full kinda mom!

And since no post would be complete without the gratuitious cute dog picture, I'll leave you with this cute shot of Wasabi peering into my room through the "wall" made out of bookshelves:

Peace.

*PS - How awesome is this?? I don't think Chaos would read it (even with the high Z factor) but if he met a girl who was carrying this around in her backpack? Yeah - I think I'd be saying hello to my future daughter-in-law at that point. Maybe I should get a copy to throw in his Rehearsal Dinner Box?

Things That Make A Parent Go "Hmmm?"

This morning I noticed that our 13-year old Ninja Princessa's facebook relationship status was updated. She went from being "single" to "married". Intriguing, no? We didn't even get to trot out the Rehearsal Dinner Box! She is so grounded.

I asked Bug what was on his "to do" list today and he said, "I have to remember to sell my camel and buy a lizard." Alright then. Makes my day look downright boring.

I did find out that both the camel and lizard are virtual. Still waiting to hear back about the 13 year old's husband. Peace.

**Edited to add - the virtual husband turned out to be a girl. She and the Ninja Princessa are friends who are on opposite "teams" at school and thus feel like star-crossed lovers (of the platonic variety?). Romi (short for "Romeo" AKA the Princessa) posted a comment after her "married" status went back to single. She said something along the lines of "Oh well. That didn't work. We decided that was enough for bi relationships for now." Hmmm. Not sure what to make of that. They're still fine friends - so I'm assuming that the cross team part was fine but the lifetime commitment was not? And - on a totally different but tangential topic? She and I had a great talk about Planned Parenthood - at her instigation. One of the things she said in that conversation was - "Not for any religious reason, but just for me - I'm planning to wait until I'm married to have sex." It's probably not universal - but the teenage girls I know are waaaay more comfortable with, informed about, and more willing to follow their own path in terms of sex/romantic customs than my friends and I were. I'm all for fewer hang-ups.**

You Know Your Daughter Loves You When...

The other night the Ninja Princessa had a dream that I died. Sure, some smarty pants psychologist could make a case for the Princessa working out her anger at her evil step-mother by killing her off in a dream but I choose to see it as proof positive that I am well and truly loved. I offer my evidence thusly:

Point 1 - Apparently my funeral was a huge success. Fabulous people (including none other than Lorelai and Rory Gilmore) came to say how sorry they were and to offer the Princessa their deepest sympathies. (Now you may not be the Gilmore Girls fanatic that we are so you may not realize what a testament that is to my beloved state - but take my word for it. When the hippest, most articulate and beautiful mother-daughter duo attends your funeral, it's a good sign.)

Point 2 - After my funeral, our whole family moved into the house of my dreams (the Twykham House in Stars Hollow) and the Princessa was sad that I was, you know, dead and couldn't enjoy it so she had my grave moved to the back yard. Yep - they took my dead, mouldering self with them!!

Point 3 - (And this is the kicker.) Not long after the move, I rose from the grave and shuffled back into their lives - ZOMBIFIED!! Me. A zombie! How utterly cool is that?! (You do have to get past the relentless, brain eating, putridness of the zombie archetype and move on to the "wow, my children think about zombies more than they think about anything else in the whole wide world" aspect to see this as a sign of love and devotion, but I am there.) Remembered, resurrected (reanimated, whatever) - I am SO loved. The undead step-mom. There is no higher pinnacle of my children's esteem to which I aspire. Just saying.

Understanding Chaos

Chaos came galumphing into my room making a weird chewing motion with his lips. I asked him what he was doing. He responded by asking me to pluck his eyebrows. (You may have previously noticed a pattern of weirdness in conversations with Chaos. This one is clearly not an exception.) I asked him what that had to do with the er, interesting way he was walking. He explained he was an evil giraffe. Now would I fix his unibrow?



I'm really not sure how to wrap this moment up for storage in the Rehearsal Dinner Box, but I'm going to assume that anyone brave enough to be Chaos' future bride will understand his context. It's the rest of us that need a primer. Peace.

Why God Invented Uncles

As a Christmas surprise, Unky Dunky took Chaos to an all-ages death rock, goth billy, metal something or other show at a local (and supposedly very hip ) venue. I immediately feel the need to explain that Chaos not only had done all of his regular homework, but had spent four hours at a friend's on Saturday working on a project that isn't due until after the holidays, AND that I'd made him take a nap before going to a late concert on a school night. (Can you tell how defensive I feel about every parenting decision I make? Gah. The court stuff is wearing me OUT!)

Chaos had a fantastic time. "It was pretty awesome," he said this morning in the car. He told me all about what I first thought were the Coughing Cats but turned out to be the Koffin Kats. There were also the Necrosomethingorothers and the Chop Tops (Pops? Cops? Hops? - I don't know.) It was great to hear all about it even if I didn't quite get all of the names. I love how much my fifteen year talks to me, though if he makes me crazy when he says things like, "There was this drummer who spun his drumstick around and hit the syllable over and over." Syllable? "You mean cymbal?" "Yeah, you know." (I do know, but why oh why doesn't he know? Why does he say things like this? He reads like a fiend and does exceptionally well on standardized tests but I can't help wondering if he has some bizarre language disease.)

Chaos then said, "I'm pissed about my bandana though." ?? He launched into details about how the new Koffin Kats bandana Duncan had gotten him was stiff. Chaos wanted it to look worn, not brand new, so he'd rinsed it and hung it to dry. This morning it was still too starched feeling so he rinsed it again and threw it in the dryer. I offered to wash it in the machine for him this morning. Silly mama. The point is to get to show it off at school today, of course. I got home from dropping him off and got a call from Duncan. I thanked him again for being a fantastic uncle. We are lucky to have such a wonderful village. What do people without hip uncles do? I am glad my kids get to do cool things in safe ways. Dunc said, "No problem. Loved it. By the way, how's his eye?" ?? "I was worried at first he wasn't having a good time because he was just standing there, but then he asked me if you had to be 18 to mosh. His face lit up and he jumped right in when I told him you didn't have to be. He got elbowed and we thought he might have a shiner. Is it bad?" Gack. Ok - so make that relatively safe ways. Chaos didn't have a black eye (that I saw). I'm sure he wished he did. I've thought about the scrapbook page I could make if I were that kind of mom: My Child's First Mosh Pit. I might do it anyway, because we haven't added anything to his Rehearsal Dinner Box in a while.
Peace.

Trying So Hard To Be Bad

Chaos just got these pants. He said I could take his picture as long as he didn't have to smile. Then he smiled and tried to make me delete the picture. He really is way sweeter than he looks.
He got these pants because he and his friends (who are all in band and play instruments and have some musical talent) have decided to start a garage band. They have regularly scheduled practices that never happen because there isn't a time when they can all be there at the same time due to church, karate, geography club, etc. I asked Chaos what instrument he played. (He is one of the least musical people I know - and he gets it from me. We are born to be great audiences.) Chaos said his friend is teaching him to play bass guitar (b/c as Chaos explained to me that's the one that's the easiest, stands in the back, and doesn't have to sing if he doesn't want to) but until he gets it down the guys want him to play the kazoo. Can you imagine how hard it was NOT to laugh, much less smile at the idea of my aching-to-be-a-bad-boy son playing the KAZOO in a garage band??
By the way, he is actually allowed to wear these pants to school, but he has to take off the two big chains which cross in front - which is a good thing because as he jumped down from this chair (don't ask me why he wanted to stand on it for the picture in the first place) the chains caught and he tripped. Ahhh the price of fashion. These pictures are DEFINITELY going in his rehearsal dinner box.
Peace.

The Four Horsemen of the...Hypocalypse?

I think we're going to need an extra large Rehearsal Dinner Box for Chaos. I am trying (and I mean really, really trying) not to worry about the way he processes information. He does well in school (Honor Roll!) and he scores ridiculously high on standardized tests (99th percentile!). For the life of me, I cannot see how.
Yesterday on the way to school, Chaos and I had a little chat about how long his seventh grade math class has been studying 'triangles'. Every day for over three weeks that's all it says in his planner under Math: 'triangles'. This is the picture I get in my mind. So:

Me: What's up with the triangles? Can't you learn everything there is to know about triangles in just a couple of days?
Chaos: Mom, there's more to it. You know, there's A squared equals C squared and all that.
Me: You mean, A squared PLUS B SQUARED equals C squared?
Chaos: Yeah. That's it. We're studying Pilates and all that.
Me: Pilates?!
Chaos: The theory - you know, the A squared stuff.
Me: The Pythagorean Theorem?! Chaos, It's the PYTHAGOREAN THEOREM!! It's important to get it straight! You have to know the right words and you have to understand it. Do you even understand that what you're doing is squaring the sides of the triangle and adding them together and that equals..
Chaos (interrupting me because we were at school): the square of the hypocalypse. I know, I know! Mom, I gotta go! Bye.
Me: the hypocalypse? the HYPOCALYPSE??

I really don't know whether to laugh or cry sometimes. Aside from writing speeches for Dan Quayle or GW I can't think of many career options for this boy! Can you?
Peace.