Living here is really great.
There are five other people who live here, and
while my husband might be from Mars,
and I might be from Venus,
I am not sure where my kids are from.
Yeah, heaven and all that stuff,
but sometimes, I'm just like, "Where are you from?"
"Are you new here?"
Like they don't know where their bedrooms are,
because I say, Put That In Your Bedroom
and five minutes later it's on the stairs.
That is not the bedroom, that is the stairs.
And I feel a little crazy explaining that
to 13 and 15 year olds.
My ten year old knows where his bedroom is.
He doesn't know where his feet are.
Today I came in from my run
and on the Kitchen Counter
are about 4 pairs of rolled up dirty socks.
I cannot explain this.
Either my husband had a Meltdown Moment
and gathered up all the socks from the floors and put them there
so they would be noticed and put away
Before Mommy Gets Home
or the kids are losing it.
I just want to walk into my kitchen after a run and start a pot of coffee
and I'm greeted with dirty stinking socks.
So I proceeded into my Meltdown Moment. I Went There.
"Why are there F***ing socks on the Kitchen Counter?
There are about three places socks belong: On Your Feet, In the Drawer, or In the Laundry,"
I say.
But when I say this to them, I can see what they are thinking.
"She's wrong. There are actually Five Places..."
So living here is great,
but it's a little weird sometimes too.
Things seem to change without any warning.
I asked my son how crew practice was and he said,
"Oh, I'm not doing that anymore."
And I'm like, What? I live here
and I don't know this. How does this happen?
When did this happen?
And I want to say, "This was not approved by the Activity Committee."
And I feel like that is how things get done in the world,
there are committees for things and
obviously we are need of a committee here.
And the other side of my brain is like,
Don't go sounding like one of Those Moms.
So while we don't actually have an Activity Committee,
I feel like we might need one.
It's just a little weird.
Having teenagers is suddenly about Decisions Being Made Without Approval.
Stupid Decisions.
I thought my husband and I were the CEO/COO/President/In Charge Person
And now suddenly we are not.
Well, we are, but not in the minds of these people who are Obviously New to the Planet.
There are no questions being asked about Can I do this? Can I eat this? Can I go here?
It's a little shocking.
And again, I just say, "Are you new?"
I asked my other son to put the chairs we use for parties Down In The Basement.
I know it sounds like I'm always asking my kids to put stuff away, and honestly
that might make up about 90% of our conversations.
Again, really weird. But that's living here.
So anyway, one chair is red and one is white, so I'm thinking, I'm picturing,
Ok, the chairs are down the basement.
And then I look out the window
and something thin and red and chair-looking
catches my eye.
I look again and see that the chairs are outside
and that they are up high,
high like in the trees.
And I'm like, "Squirrels?"
"Squirrels took my chairs?"
And then I'm like Crazy Mom again,
thinking I must need medication.
But no, the chairs are indeed In the Trees,
precariously perched on some old wood boards that he, my son,
who cannot get off the couch to put socks away,
has nailed into the side of these two trees,
like some kind of weird tree house.
And again, I'm like, "This was not approved by the Activity Committee."
But I don't want to sound too crazy.
And my next thought is This was not approved by the Safety Committee, either,
so we really need like a Summit Meeting.
This is larger than just one committee.
We'll have a Summit or something,
because this summer is Not Going to Go Well.
Maybe I'll just start with drawing everyone a map.
There are five other people who live here, and
while my husband might be from Mars,
and I might be from Venus,
I am not sure where my kids are from.
Yeah, heaven and all that stuff,
but sometimes, I'm just like, "Where are you from?"
"Are you new here?"
Like they don't know where their bedrooms are,
because I say, Put That In Your Bedroom
and five minutes later it's on the stairs.
That is not the bedroom, that is the stairs.
And I feel a little crazy explaining that
to 13 and 15 year olds.
My ten year old knows where his bedroom is.
He doesn't know where his feet are.
Today I came in from my run
and on the Kitchen Counter
are about 4 pairs of rolled up dirty socks.
I cannot explain this.
Either my husband had a Meltdown Moment
and gathered up all the socks from the floors and put them there
so they would be noticed and put away
Before Mommy Gets Home
or the kids are losing it.
I just want to walk into my kitchen after a run and start a pot of coffee
and I'm greeted with dirty stinking socks.
So I proceeded into my Meltdown Moment. I Went There.
"Why are there F***ing socks on the Kitchen Counter?
There are about three places socks belong: On Your Feet, In the Drawer, or In the Laundry,"
I say.
But when I say this to them, I can see what they are thinking.
"She's wrong. There are actually Five Places..."
So living here is great,
but it's a little weird sometimes too.
Things seem to change without any warning.
I asked my son how crew practice was and he said,
"Oh, I'm not doing that anymore."
And I'm like, What? I live here
and I don't know this. How does this happen?
When did this happen?
And I want to say, "This was not approved by the Activity Committee."
And I feel like that is how things get done in the world,
there are committees for things and
obviously we are need of a committee here.
And the other side of my brain is like,
Don't go sounding like one of Those Moms.
So while we don't actually have an Activity Committee,
I feel like we might need one.
It's just a little weird.
Having teenagers is suddenly about Decisions Being Made Without Approval.
Stupid Decisions.
I thought my husband and I were the CEO/COO/President/In Charge Person
And now suddenly we are not.
Well, we are, but not in the minds of these people who are Obviously New to the Planet.
There are no questions being asked about Can I do this? Can I eat this? Can I go here?
It's a little shocking.
And again, I just say, "Are you new?"
I asked my other son to put the chairs we use for parties Down In The Basement.
I know it sounds like I'm always asking my kids to put stuff away, and honestly
that might make up about 90% of our conversations.
Again, really weird. But that's living here.
So anyway, one chair is red and one is white, so I'm thinking, I'm picturing,
Ok, the chairs are down the basement.
And then I look out the window
and something thin and red and chair-looking
catches my eye.
I look again and see that the chairs are outside
and that they are up high,
high like in the trees.
And I'm like, "Squirrels?"
"Squirrels took my chairs?"
And then I'm like Crazy Mom again,
thinking I must need medication.
But no, the chairs are indeed In the Trees,
precariously perched on some old wood boards that he, my son,
who cannot get off the couch to put socks away,
has nailed into the side of these two trees,
like some kind of weird tree house.
And again, I'm like, "This was not approved by the Activity Committee."
But I don't want to sound too crazy.
And my next thought is This was not approved by the Safety Committee, either,
so we really need like a Summit Meeting.
This is larger than just one committee.
We'll have a Summit or something,
because this summer is Not Going to Go Well.
Maybe I'll just start with drawing everyone a map.
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