Au Revoir Ma Petite...

There comes a time when a parent must let their child go off and travel on their own without parental chaperone or other adult assistance. It happened to me less than 48 hours ago. My 16 years old daughter boarded a night plane. Destination: Paris, France. She will be spending Christmas and New Year in the City of Lights and Maitre of all things sugary. This was not going to college, for a job interview, nor undergoing a special medical procedure.....it was during her winter break from high school. Lucky girl. Nice mom....

Being the parent, I was more nervous than she. I'd categorize her as an indoor cat. Isolated, protected, not certain of her survival skill....I fear on her own, she may end up being on the news. CNN's Headline: American Girl found in gutter near Eiffel Tower. (there is no gutter near Eiffel Tower) Dependant, lazy, and detached...she leaves everything to me when we are traveling together. So, when the opportunity arose that she could travel by herself, needless to say, I was quite weary.

Her grandmother and I took her to the airport. On the drive to the airport, at the airport, and while waiting with her in the airport, she received a mega dose of lectures, speeches, instructions, and warnings. We accompanied her until she enters the plane and the sight of her was no more.

Inside I was very excited and happy for her as I can imagine for a young girl traveling to the most gorgeous city in the world and without the annoying mom and micro managing granny....this is her first taste of freedom and adulthood. Bonjour Paris....!

As a mother nevertheless, I still needed to give the appearance of genuine concern and harrass her one last time until I see her again in 10 days.

I am confident that she will be fine. She has no choice. I am not there to help her. She must grow. Traveling alone does that....

Abuse Me is Funny

I've discovered a way that makes me explode like a crazy hyena on Speed. The result is unrequited and unstoppable laughter and joy. It's not a silly pet, a new sitcom, the Sunday funnies, nor a new boyfriend with a questionable sense of humor.

It's my kid.

She is sarcastic as hell. She verbally abuses me with her patronizing tone. She lectures me as if I was a dim witted twit. She is a bitch and a witch in the morning like a Vampire who dislikes daylight and finds no wrong in lashing out her grumpiness in the early dawn. On the exterior, she is cool and calm like a cucumber. In the interior however, get her pie hole going and this girl cracks the driest, meanest, most hilarious, knee slappin'-belly achin'-fetus position on the ground-pee in your pants sayings!

She and I are a t.v. show in the making. Some have gotten a preview of the "Wendy and Fendi Show" where mother and daugher verbally bash each other with one liners and cheap shots. I would like to think I take main stage only because I'm the mother. Seniority rules. When she unabasheldy with private joy jousts me, I retort. However she really is the driving force that brings out the ridiculousness and immaturity in me so maybe I am actually her sidekick. Either way, with Ethel, Lucy is funnier. Without Laurel, there's no Hardy.

The main ingredient to her humor is that she is essentially right about things. She puts a god damn sarcastic spin to make her point biting and sharp. Added that to her dry and calm delivery and you've got a recipe for smart ass teen humor with real wit and insight.

Aside from her personal delivery of insults, her e-mails have me cracking like a loony nutbag just out of the asylum. Her writing magnifies her sarcastic humor. I prefer reading her insults more than receiving it face to face. It's softer on my ego.

At times I want to smack her ass as she disrespects me with her in-your-face-no-holds-barred correction and shut downs. A major slap in the face to me as a mother. After her scolding, I feel like a nimrod with a dunce hat sitting in a corner. However either I'm agreeing with her internal goodness or laughing that I am already defeated and too pooped to fight back. So I give up and just enjoy what is.

Laughter is the best medicine. If that means it's on my account...I'm glad to be the butt of her jokes.

Milestone for a Woman

You know your life is about to detour when your 13 1/2 (plus 1 day) years old daughter comes out from the bathroom announcing that eventual ever-feminine event. Goodbye little girl. Hello little woman. Suddenly a revelation dawns on me. My baby is no longer a baby but can make a baby!

My reaction to her announcement was flat as to mirror her delivery. Several thoughts scrambled in my mind and I had to quickly access which to respond first. Should I A.) perform a "show and tell" the various types of product now needed to accommodate her newly acquired situation B.) share this news with all close family members as if Mega Lotto was won C.) "don't you dare touch a boy 'til you're 21!"

Thought C.) was dominantly on my mind and I decided there and then I didn't like this "new" mommy gig. Consciously I tried to be supportive so I congratulated her with a soft hug but my fear got the better of me and I hardly couldn't wait to remind her that she could get pregnant now ...therefore see paragraph C.).

Today is the second day of her rite of passage. I see her in a different light now. This normal biological function inevitably means hormones viciously doing their job, intense X rated thoughts and feelings, experiments of innocent touch leading to more, schemes and plots to get near their object of desire. Basically: Sex 101.

I am not denying the world's greatest pleasure to anyone, especially someone I love the most. However I am trying to prolong and avoid at all cost my own headache and hopefully heartache that I may and will eventually face with raising a teenage girl. Oh did I also mention that I am a single mother? Since many have commented that I look more like her sister than mother (thanks to long hair, low cut jeans, and funky t shirts available at all retail), perhaps I can go out with her and serve as chaperone/wingwoman. It's actually a wonderful example of the win win concept. She gets to go out, I get to go out. She can flirt with boys and I can chose with whom wh flirts. She has a personal chauffeur and banker and I get to control where she goes and what she spends! Perfection if you ask me. Why wouldn't she want me around? She hangs out in a group like a sheep in a herd and I would just blend like another one of her posses. The more the merrier. I can be pretty immature and speak the vernacular of a hip teen. We raid each other's closet so I already got "the look" down and I still haven't totally grown up and wouldn't hesitate to frequent wherever teens would go. I get to be "young" again! I'm totally cool and happenin'. I'm a funky mama! What'up, homey! Just chillin' like a villain! So fo sho!

Pathetic. I sound ridiculous. Maybe I should just stay home. Come to think of it, I may be trying to relive and reconstruct a past I never had. I want to live vicariously through her youth as it's exciting. Very exciting. So bright her future...This uncharted virgin territory (no pun intended) of a future. I can share with her my mistakes and successes of dating/relationship and life in general. Through her I can see myself as if it were an out of body experience. I would instruct her how to dress, speak, behave, think, be.....Live. As if my methods of psychology were fail proof and flawless and would ensure success, I would be determined that she would never get hurt and make the dumb usual mistakes that all chicks succumb to. Why should she "fail the test" when I already have the answer sheet? I'm her walking-talking-built in-answer to her questions! For God's sake, my whole life time I've been everyone's Dear Abby and Dr. Phil!

I know it's not fair. I'm robbing her of this precious time. She needs to build a repetoire of her own wisdom and most importantly experiences. As a mother, you can only sit back and give them useful tools that would allow them to build a strong foundation for their own future. They need to be hurt, burned, sad, and disappointed. What goes down must come up. Conversely they will also be happy, ecstatic, proud, and in love.

This is a milestone for us both. As she enters adulthood, I enter adulthood again. I need to be sensitive to her feelings, understand her needs, validate her thoughts, and most importantly be an example of what I want her to become: a reasonable and intelligent woman.