Party Pictures

Well, I finally got around to sending the few pictures that I managed to take at the party to my computer. The only camera I had at the time was my cell phone's camera so they aren't very good. . . but at least you can see we had a good time. . . That's Mo center stage. . . dancing her heart out. She must've known I was taking her picture. . . she kept turning her back to me.


Here she is in "The Dress", a few days before the party. You can't tell from the photo, but she kicked off her shoes about 5 minutes after we arrived and never wore them again until we went home. Then she couldn't understand why her stockings didn't last. . . oh, Mo. . .

So NOT 14!

I held off until my daughter's party to do something I've been meaning to do for a while now.

I had braces when I was a young adult-- from the ages of 21-23. Because I got them so late, my orthodontist warned me that I would have to wear my retainer at night for the rest of my life. I agreed. But when I was about 33, I grew tired of the chore. I was still nursing my daughter at the time and I distinctly remember one night, waking up to her cries, going to nurse her, then returning to bed and realizing I'd forgotten my retainer. . . and deciding, in some small recess of my mind that I didn't care anymore.

At the time, with a 5-year-old boy and a 2-1/2 year old girl, it seemed the least important thing in my life. Something easily discarded and forgotten. But I forgot. Kids grow up.

Perhaps I forgot because of the amount of work and sleepless nights involved. . . at the time I truly believed that children were so beautiful and had such boundless energy because they stole it all from their mothers. They often reminded me of angelic vampires, more enticing than anything Bram Stoker or Anne Rice could ever conjure. But I learned that, while they may steal it for a little while, it eventually returns again.

As S. E. Hinton so aptly put it, "That Was Then and This is Now."

Now, while I've grown a bit older, I see that I am far from "old" in all the traditional senses. Despite recovering from the most serious illness of my life (clinical exhaustion, brought on by a world that offers too much and demands even more for it), I still have hope that I will regain the vitality I recently enjoyed. . . and, I intend to have straight teeth when it happens.

To this end, I have begun wearing my retainer again. I had tried to do this a few years ago (in 2002), but after just a few days, I aborted the attempt. This was a very foolish thing to do, I found out. Because I'd worn it for a few days, I'd loosened my teeth. . . but they hadn't had a chance to re-stabilize. So, of course, since then they have shifted and become almost as crooked as before I initially wore braces, all those years ago. (Ha! The orthodontist was right!)

This first depressed and then annoyed me. And I started having trouble with my gums. The initial reason I had for getting braces was as a protection from peridontal (gum disease) problems. For 3 years I watched as my gums began to recede. . . and I grew even more depressed. Plus, another reason I'd gotten braces returned, too. I became too self-conscious to smile. That's some kind of sick crime, in my book.

So, again facing all the problems I had, at one time, thought I'd conquered, I realized the only thing to do was put the retainer back on. (Gulp!)

But I knew I had to do much more than that. I had to commit to wearing my retainer for at least 6 months -- 24/7 -- plus, re-commit to wearing it nightly for the rest of my life. It may seem difficult. Luckily, working at home, I am not forced to endure the further embarrassment of having to work with people who will stare all the time. That's good.

But I do have to contend with the pain. And, oh, is it painful! The good news is that, after only 24 hours, my front teeth are noticeably straighter. But I also realize that I will have to continue this, that I'm set on a path, and if I sway one bit, I'll probably end up losing all my teeth.

Last night, as I woke in pain, I seriously wondered if I was making a big mistake. If, somehow, this would hurt my teeth and gums rather than help them. But I realized that was silly. It only hurts for the moment. . . and how many good things hurt for a moment?

Shots hurt, but they prevent disease. . . diets hurt, but they keep us from the much larger risks that obesity offers. . . paying taxes hurt, but are better than fines. . .

So many things in life are a trade off in pain. I'm not a masochist. But I think I see why they seem to enjoy pain-- because, in pain there, is reward.

Ugh.

Wouldn't life be ideal if there were reward in pleasure?

The Parent Thing

My daughter just had her Sweet 16 party last Saturday Night. . . It's a special time in any girl's life and the only thing my daughter asked for was a real party. . . in a hall with a DJ-- the works. She'd also attended several of these before, so I figured we owed her friends this much.

All went well, we had a blast (worked like dogs, though we did) and it was great. Except for one thing.

Now, I can never tell if I'm a good mom or a bad mom, but one thing I know is I'm not the average mom. At least not compared to the ones I meet, whenever I happen to encounter them.

I also generally hate to categorize people. People are all uniquely individual and don't readily fall into categories, no matter how hard statisticians try to force us. There's always one or two exceptions to every rule. But most parents, as a species, seem to forget so very much. . . was it the act of birth and all those drugs? Or just all those drugs? ;-)

I don't know. I was never much for drugs. But I digress--

For one thing, I seem to be the only mom -- or parent for that matter -- to remember BEING a teenager. Or, maybe I'm one of the few who ever came to terms with that period of my life. At any rate, I seem to be the only one who understands what 15 or 16 feels like, most of which is pretty awful. I do know it's a time that has become a traditional phase of division between children and their parents. It wasn't always so, but I'll hold that thought for another post.

The point is, why can't parents ever recognise that their kids are PEOPLE first? It's not just parents of teenagers -- that's only when the issue really comes to the forefront -- but at all stages of life.

One parent at the party turned to me and, using the same old tired line, said, "oh, they're growing up so fast." I just looked at her and replied, "not fast enough, if you ask me!"

Of course, how we define growing up probably differs. When my daughter refused to help me prepare one of the party favors because she was "too tired" (oh, but she wasn't too tired to go online and chat with her friends for 4 hours), I did not consider that very "grown up". When she did, however, push through until the bitter end (at 2:30 in the morning) when we were decorating, that was VERY grown up of her. Course, that was after I pouted and slammed things around because of the favors. Hey-- if she doesn't have to behave like a grown-up, why should I? Because someone has to? B-S.

Maybe they grow up fast physically.

Another thing. When did all my contemporaries get so old. One lady who was there wanted to dance. . . like we did 25 years ago. Whoopee. I wanted to dance like people dance TODAY-- it's way more fun and has the added advantage of clearing space in your general vicinity. It's called skanking and I am SO glad the kids have finally found something to replace what has become "traditional" dancing (which is about as much fun as the fox trot or the waltz-- and I like the waltz).

When the kids were going home, I really saw the difference between myself and other parents. One parent of a hapless lad actually came up to me and said, "so, you're Molly's parents," and made him say "thank you for having me." I was waiting for her to ask if her son behaved himself-- as if. He was one of the quietest people, which was no surprise.

Another parent actually apologized because her daughter wore jeans-- as if anyone cared. She's one of my daughter's best friends, she came, that's what matters. She obviously has a problem with wearing a dress-- who hasn't at one point or another.

My daughter just wanted to give people (that like to) an excuse to dress up. Another mom (of a boy) actually forced the poor kid into a suit. Whew!

I really think one of our greatest sins as parents is that we try too hard. I wonder how many times major fights have occurred just because a parent insists their teenager do something stupid like put on a suit or dress. All it accomplishes is forcing the kid to feel even more self-conscious than usual.

DO parents remember being teenagers?