Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Test Of Patience

When I meet my maker, if he's a fair and just one, I believe he'll bestow upon me the title of Emma the Saint of Patience. I'm no Mother Teresa, but man oh man am I giving her a run for her money. I have been preparing myself for years and it all is moot. Being the mother of a teenager is something you can't actually prepare for. It is diving into the deep end of the pool with your little arm floaties only half inflated. The fact I haven't murdered my child yet, is a testament of my patience.
Do all parents of teenagers have a moment or 12 during the day they contemplate their worth as a parent? I have to believe I'm not alone in wondering if I'm doing anything right. I swear, my daughter seems as though she's on a mission to make me 100% certifiable. I'll never tell her, she's succeeding. The gray hair that now is prominently breeding around my face is yet another piece of evidence as to how patient I am.
"When I was your age."
Hilarious to actually use that phrase to start any sentence. Whether it's directed to my daughter or friends, it's absurd to say. Why? Because my parents said it! The cycle is infinite when it comes to parent/child relationships. In all seriousness, when I was her age, the things I was into and doing are far different than the things she's into. Sure, the obvious boys, music, make-up and sports are the same, but the girls she is peered with is what scares me. Perhaps I was so narrow minded and naive that I didn't see these girls when I was growing up. Very possible. But walking through the mall or even Wal-Mart, I'm shocked at the things they wear, pierce, say...etc. Oh to stick my head in the sand until she's 18. Maybe then I'll come out looking 25 again instead of looking like I'm about to turn 50.
I guess it's just maddening to watch my baby girl grow up. Maybe I'm not alone at all in the fears that are becoming realities as she matures right in front of me. I don't think I'll ever want her to be anything other than my 8 year old little girl. I'm losing my grip of that person and it's taking it's toll. I can only hope I'm not screwing her up entirely. I can only do the best I can to keep my temper in a cell...unless a parole is granted. Karma is an interesting little bitch. I only hope the good stuff would come around a little more frequently. Hair dye is expensive.

Why Oh Why

The past week of news has been all but fun to watch. Last weekend I sat nearly on the edge of my seat as hurricane Irene came through the east coast. I have to say, the communities did an outstanding job with emergency preparedness. Though it was a lot less torrential as predicted, thank goodness, it was awesome to see folks plan for the worst. I think it's better to be overly cautious than arrogant and flippant. It's very possible the loss of life would have been worse if not for the warnings and evacuations.
In the car on the way home from a wonderful weekend in San Diego with family, I listened intently to the news in Libya. Over the night, a country demanded the change they want. It was inspiring to listen to the sounds of jubilation as they turned over a government. It of course begged me to give thanks for the country I live in. Despite the frustrations going on here, we are not on the brink of a collapsed government and total civil uprising. I'm not naive to believe it won't ever happen, but knowing it's not happening right this second is a gift.
The state of the world is fascinating. I don't watch a lot of news unless there's actual news to be heard. But, the other night I was reading an article about China's resent bolus of military advancement and funding. The article was spun to lead the reader to believe the Chinese are up to something. When aren't they? But, I was talking about it with my husband and my 13 year old daughter asked if we were currently at war. I have to admit, it's a little fun to talk about current events with my daughter. She seems to be interested in what's happening and it makes me happy.
The answer is yes and no. I explained we are involved in conflicts. I explained the difference between all out war and conflict. She then asked if we were at war with China. That's a very good question. I said, and if I'm wrong, please feel free to open up the debate: We're at competition with China. We are being politically correct with the competition because we owe them a LOT of money. They have an intimidating upper hand and it's becoming more and more uncomfortable. So, with the news of China suddenly doing all this military action, it begs to question how long it will be before they start to flex their muscles at us directly? I shudder at the answer. The unknown is alway terrifying. I don't think China's going to all out nuke us, but I do think they'll shut us down economically and since they are sort of already doing that, I'd rather deal with a financial melt down than nuclear/biochemical warfare. Call me nuts, wouldn't it be easier to be poor than growing a new head?
Every time I read about natural disasters, new wars, and a myriad of other bad news, I can't help but think biblically. It's funny to me. Funny, weird. My mom was one of those people who would start screaming about the end of days. Whenever she'd start a tirade, I'd make fun. Honestly, I probably still would if she were here to do it. But, is this truly the end of days? Sure, this planet has seen times like this before. In fact, probably worse. I guess the information age just brings it all really together and magnifies it all. Growing up with the religious philosophy I did, nearly requires me to believe these are the last days. But how many days before it's over? I laughed maniacally at the group of people who swore then end of the world was in what, May? When nothing happened, I wished with all my heart, I could have been a fly on their walls. How embarrassing.
Point? Don't really have one. There are days I get a little unsettled at the thought of the life that I know coming to an end. But, at the exact same time given hope that it's not going to happen during my lifetime. Who knows. God. Only he knows what he's doing...I hope.

Mom

I miss my mother. It’s nearly constant. The more birthdays I celebrate, the closer I come to the age she was when we were closest. We spoke ...