Name: margalit
Location: Massachusetts, United States Professional writer, educational advocate, opinionated ultra liberal mother of 18 year old twins, living life in the slow lane due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, congestive heart failure, and diabetes.

email: margalitc at yahoo dot com

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Monday, March 06, 2006

It's time for Camp

She's packed and repacked her bags 12 times. She's weeded out the 8 pairs of socks, the 7 hoodies, and the 5 pairs of jeans. She's only going for 5 days, 4 nights. She's packed for a wilderness adventure to Katmandu. After she zipped up her duffle, she couldn't lift it. So she opened it again, and pulled out more stuff she didn't need. For this little camping trip she's toting one full sized wheelie duffle bag, one day pack, and a tote bag. All are packed to the gills. I have given up even trying to advise her on packing because she has turned into the Wicked Witch of the North. She's screamed and yelled at me, called me stupid and told me to shut up. Every suggestion I make is wrong. I'm so stupid, I just don't understand why she needs to bring a flatiron for her hair, and makeup. MAKEUP? Four nights, 4 pairs of PJs. It's more about looking good than traveling light. OY! I'm so glad to be seeing her backside heading out the door.

Teenagers. What is it with them? Why do they tend to either be lovely or evil, and how come they can turn from evil to lovely and back again on the spin of a dime. After screaming bloody murder at me for a couple of hours, she made smoothies and offered me half, sweet as can be. I was ready to throttle her, I swear it. There are times when I can feel my fists bunching up by my sides and I think "I should just pop her one" but we don't hit in our family. Sometimes I wonder if that rule has bitten me in the ass bigtime. I don't believe hitting works, but damn, there are those moments when I would just like her to acknowledge that I'm the parent and I MIGHT know a bit more than she does.

I told her when she returns home, IF I let her come home (and after tonight, I really had to think twice about it), I'm docking her a dollar for every time she calls me a name or tells me to shut up. I believe she'll be broke within a couple of days. Tough, maybe eventually she'll learn to keep her trap shut and try to be more polite.

The Boy can't wait for her to be gone. He told me this evening right before he went up to bed that he wasn't going to wake her up to say "goodbye" because he is so annoyed with her. I told him that wasn't nice and I wanted him to say "bye" because, God forbid, something happens and all he can think of is "I didn't even bother to say Goodbye". Nobody needs that guilt. It won't kill him to make the effort. Besides, he loves her to death, even though she has been beyond annoying these past couple of days.

The bags are sitting by the back door, ready for her to take off in the morning. I bought her snacks for the bus ride: Luna Bars and those organic fruit leathers she likes so much. I got her a blueberry muffin and two yogurt smoothies for breakfast. Did she say "thank you"? Why no, she didn't. She complained that I didn't get her more. That child is the most spoiled poor kid I've ever seen. She just has NO clue that buying her special stuff is not in the budget. She thinks she deserves all this special stuff all the time. Yeah, right...like that's gonna happen.

It's strange the way I feel right now. Torn between knowing I'm going to miss her and knowing that I'm going to be so happy she's gone for a few days. It's just quieter and calmer when she's not home. The Boy can entertain himself. She just can't. She runs up and down the stairs, the phone rings constantly, she's 3-waying a bunch of kids while she's yelling at me in the background. Yes, I know she's totally normal and this is what teen girls do. But man, it is so hard to live with. The tantrums, the screaming, the anger, the constant annoyance that she feels. It's so permanent PMS.

I'm looking so forward to some peace and quiet. I know the Worthless Pet will be all upset and will drive me nuts to entertain him. Yahoo. The Boy will want to cuddle a lot and be shadowing me all evening long. That's OK, I don't mind it much. I love his company up until his meds wear off and he starts cracking his knuckes and fidgiting nonstop.

I so need a vacation! Please peeps, send me to BlogHer so I can have a weekend off.
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