I am tired. It is still very much in the minuses outside. This winter is never-ending, like the end of a Police song or a trilogy by Peter Jackson or an Oscar speech. We have all given up hope of ever seeing green grass again.
Oh, and I am now officially the mother of two teenagers.
Here are some of the thoughts going through my head as I observe my beautiful daughters:
- They are creeping mighty close to my mental age, which that internet quiz put at 16 (17 on a mature day).
- That though my mental age might be forever young, my physical age is most definitely not. I groan when I get up from the couch. Yep. I make old person sounds. I’m going to be 40 in April, but that deserves its own post.
- Fashion really is circular: my oldest daughter dresses a lot like I dressed in the early 90s: flannel. Tights under cut off shorts. Combat boots (although hers are a lot more dainty). She also recently dyed her hair a very dark brown. As a teenager, I used to dye mine blue black, ’cause dark, dark brown just wasn’t dark enough.
- I have no idea what the hell they are thinking.
- It’s okay that I don’t know what they are thinking. Right?
- In as little as five years, I could have an empty nest.
- I really hope I don’t have an empty nest in five years. That is too soon. They should stay with us. It just makes economic sense.
- Sometimes I really don’t like their music. Does that make me old or simply discerning?
- Sometimes I like their music too much. For example, I’ve been playing the Lorde album over and over. Does that make me youthful or is it the first sign of a whopping mid-life crisis?
- How did such lovely people come out of me?
- I wonder if they want to go to the movies with me? Nah. They probably have other plans…
Boys. Oh god. What if they start dating?
- Don’t think about boys. No boys. Lalalalalalalalalala.
- I really like that shirt. I wonder if it is appropriate to ask if I can borrow it?
- When are they going to get up? It’s like, noon.