Joys of Single Motherhood

It's a fact that teens want nothing to do with adults about 98% of the time. Unless they need cash, adults are simply useless nay-saying dolts who lumber about complaining about trash, laundry and other stupid stuff. They say dumb stuff like "oh, that skirt looks nice" even though the skirt in question makes you look like a pimento cut off at the knees. In short, they're useless. I remember those days. I remember longing to be away from stupid relatives, deranged parents--anyone over 30. (Except for the cute draft-dodger Hippie who lived next door in a purple VW bus parked in his parents' driveway. He taught me guiter and introduced me to the Whole Earth Catalogue. I thought it was fascinating but unfathomable. I picked it up a few years ago and had the same reaction. That may be the only thing I've ever been right about through the decades.) So yes, we adults are useless and often dopey. The last thing any teen wants to do is spend "Family Time"

Over the past few days, I happened to run into three mothers of boys who like me, despair off and on about their boys' performance in school. It sounded like a chorus and it seems as though we are all experiencing the same angst--the mothers, that is. The boys are carefree. It's the same for all of us. Week 1, after receiving the usual email from a teacher that says 'I had hoped that [submit boy name here] would do better on this assignment because we discussed it at length in class on Friday,"(What the teacher really means: Gawd, your kid is so freakin' lazy, it's unbelievable!. What do you do when he's home?--tie him to his gaming computer and lock the door?) we sigh loudly and promise to do better. My strategy goes like this:  I tell myself that from now on, I will track every assignment and that I will stand over him until each one is done perfectly.  Effectively, I decide to do 7th Grade all over again. It works for a few days and then gradually i

My kids have not eaten in years. Seriously. I stopped cooking for them a few years back because neither one really eats anything. Instead, they nosh. My daughter is a vegetarian--at least that's what she claims--who doesn't really go out of her way to eat vegetables. I think she's really a "Pastafarian". She would eat nothing but angel hair with butter and parmesan reggiano if she could. I should suggest dread locks one of these days come to think of it. My son is eating not much besides Honey Nut Cheerios these days. And Ritz Crackers. Both my kids are essentially Carbohydrate Addicts. I don't think there's a twelve step program for that yet but I predict it will come to pass when all these kids hit 40. I went to Costco with a fat wallet the other day, determined to find things that my kids might eat besides Cheerios, pita chips, edamame beans etc. My goal was to spend wisely but to perhaps branch out and get some things that we hadn't tried bef

My son does not care what anyone thinks about what he does or says. About six months ago he got sent to the assistant principal's office for talking in French class about the intricacies of making "meth." He did not speak about meth making en Francais and so everyone heard him and laughed--again not en Francais.  He got sent to the principal for chattering in English about "inappropriate subjects". I guarantee that he can't spell "methamphetamine" but he saw a vid on how to make it, on YouTube I'm sure--and he just had to share. Had to. When he was in grade school one day he wore one shoe each from two different pairs of shoes. He went off to school and thought nothing of it. I doubt any of his peers noticed but I did hear from one or two mothers--"um, did you know that M was wearing mis-matched shoes to school today. Did he mean to do that?". I probably said something like "I'm sure he did, he's so creative."--and

Our old cat cries continually. He is blind, clumsy, can't jump and is semi-incontinent or perhaps he suffers from dementia. He doesn't seem to remember where the litter box is so he pees on the newspaper I have strategically placed at the bottom of the stairs--usually. He does the other function on another strategically placed newspaper at the top of the stairs. He is very skinny and for a while there he seemed to be melting away--hence my wondering about a tape worm. To fix this I started giving him an extra can of cat food each morning. I let our giant-sized Tabby outside and then I slip the Tuxedo a second can. He inhales it and then spends the rest of the morning whining for more food. This whining is not subtle. He scratches at the door. He wants more to eat. Both cats are insatiable but the Tabby seems to have some sense of limits. However, both cats head for the kitchen the minute a person opens the refrigerator. If you stop to look at mail in the kitchen, the cats