Part II

So it happened.  I met her.  All of the alarms and doink doinks in my head were multiplied by three when she actually came in.  Seriously, Readers – I am much more sarcastic in my head than I am able to verbally express and the thoughts that passed through my mind throughout the night were not so appropriate for a first-time guest.  First, let me help you visualize:  Medium length frizzy hair that is very dark at the ends then turns to medium brown somewhere in the middle, finally ending as blond at her roots.  An interesting choice of hair colors at best.   Deep dark purple eye shadow from the tips of her lids applied heavily and evenly all the way up to her eyebrows.  You know how you might get a funny word stuck in your head throughout a day?  Mine was grapes.  All night long every time I looked at her and those damn purple covered eyelids I would think…grapes.  By the end of the night it was grapey skank but that’s neither here nor there.  It was nice that she was careful enough to make sure she applied her eyeliner in three coats so it would be just perfectly caked but yet amazingly even and un-smudged.  Better yet, was the mascara clumping those eyelashes until I thought she surely must have intended to look like she literally had short daggers protruding from her eyelids.  Whatever – she doesn’t scare me.  The shining trophy was the eyebrow ring.  I mean, really?  She’s CLASSY!!

But I tried.  Clearly, I knew this was going nowhere good.  Still I tried. 

I began asking simple questions.  Ones like, do you live with your parents?  Answer:  Well, I live with my mom but I’ve never met my father so I had a step-father but they divorced when I was nine and now I’m getting a new step-dad.   My head:  this is going to be a long night. 

Question:  So you’re 17, right?  Answer:  Well, not yet.  I’ll be 17 in July.  I’m just 16 now.  My head:  OMG I better check the fucking statutory rape laws!  (yes, he’s safe)

Question:  And how old is your baby?  Answer:  She’s almost one, yeah, almost.  My head:  So you were pregnant at 15 fucking years old.  Sweet!

Question:  Do you have any siblings?  Answer:  (smiling) Yeah, I’m one of 14 kids but I’m my mom’s only child.  The rest of thems my two dads’ kids.   My head:  I need smelling salts quick.

Question:  (to both my son and her)  So we’re not making any new babies are we?  Answer from my son:  Mommmmmm.  Answer from Her:  Oh no – I got on the pill.  My head:  Better hug her ass now, son, ‘cause she just saved your fucking dick from being cut off!

So the conversation went for most of the night as I drank too much alcohol and then they finally left.  I cried.  My husband comforted.  He actually said he was “proud” of me for handling it as well as I did.  Ha!

I have created a calendar for my desk at work as my good friend Hazel assured me today that it would be over in a month and my son would come to his senses.  A month is clearly too long but still there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  Better yet, after creating my one month calendar I realized that it ends on my birthday.  Sing along with me readers…..Happy Birthday to me…….

Tomorrow will be a better day. 

The New Girlfriend...

Dear Readers:  I have missed you.  BUT – I am getting back on track and of course that means back to incessant writing about nothing.  If you’re entertained – that’s terrific.  If you are not – call my children because they are usually not entertained either.  What is the topic of this blog?  Girlfriends.  I laughed because the last time I blogged I had to write about Kennedy’s first crush.  That is over and done with and she’s now moved past number two and is with number three now.  Long stories that I’m sure you will be filled in on soon, but for now I have to discuss my idiot of a son who is bringing me much pain.  Yes I said Idiot.  Parents out there will know that you can refer to your children as heathen, idiots, the spawn of satan and many more names and still love them.  I love him in a ridiculous way – but….that doesn’t mean he is not making me want to scream at the top of my lungs like I’m at the top of the highest hill of the highest roller coaster and I’m crapping my pants because I do not like roller coasters anyway.  That’s how I feel about the new girlfriend.  If you’re new to my blog let me catch you up.  My husband and I have five kids total; four boys and one girl.  Technically they’re split between us but we do not use words such as “step” or “half” in our house.  We are one family.  The oldest four are all boys and the youngest is of course the only girl.  They range in age from 15 through 29.  We are also grandparents thanks to our oldest who is married with two of his own. 

Now back to the story.  Through the years we have been through some pretty interesting rides with our boys and their choices of dating material.  We loved a few and hated a lot but I think this time we are facing the ultimate challenge.  Wouldn’t it be great if we took our sons to the Girlfriend Closet and hand-picked everyone they dated until it was time for marriage?  Sounds a little “Brave New World” I know, but come on – this one’s a prime candidate for Skank of the Year and I haven’t met her yet!!!!  First let me say that I’m meeting her tonight – which is why this is overwhelmingly on my mind.  Secondly, in our family education is VERY important.  There is no choice.  You will go to college.  If you go and drop out, we will hound you and harass you until you get back in and finish.  No child of our will be left with the inability to support themselves and their future family.  It’s how we roll.  Imagine this if you will:  One of my twenty-something, incredibly smart, handsome young sons calls me and informs me that he’s dating a young lady and he would like for us to meet her!  Hooray!  It’s always great when they bring the girlfriends home because that is yet another sign that we have moved beyond total loathing and are somewhat acceptable in their lives as adults J  Therefore I’m excited.  I ask all the appropriate questions, but don’t go too far because that would be considered “prying” and thus shuts the door of communication for at least a month but we’ve experienced almost 8 weeks before.  They can be brutal.  So I’m delicately asking all the right questions and I get to:  So, what does she do?  Expecting to hear something fantastical, I instead get dead silence.  Hmm.  “Did you hear me honey?” I say.  He says, “Well – nothing right now except take care of her child.”  GOOD GRIEF – the alarms sound off right along with the Law and Order SVU doink doink that I’ve written about before.  But it’s still okay.  See – we’ve been through the “dating a baby-mamma” before and we survived.  We’re soldiers.  We march through anything!!!  So I took a breath and said,  “Oh really?  Does she have plans?”  Hold onto your hats readers because the wind that you’re about to suck in after I tell you his answer will clearly knock you off the seat you’re sitting on.  His reply:  Yeah, she has plans mom.  She’s going to back to school in August and will finish and go from there.   (Did you say big deal?  Just wait!)  I say: Oh great!  What is she studying?  He says:  Oh just general education.  Once she gets her diploma then she’ll think about college. 

Echo.  That’s all I heard.  An echo of the word diploma.  It echoed.,…and echoed.  Then I screamed.  Relax – just inside my head. 

Hmm.  “Uh, Hun?  How old is she?” 

“Oh, she’s 17.”

Echo.  Screaming.  Doink doink.  I look at my wrists.  Does it hurt to cut?

“Mom?  Mom?” 

“Oh yeah – so she’s 17, and not in high school, but has a baby?  Tell me more!”

I tried readers, seriously – but there was no way my voice was going to hide the absolutely 100% disappointment I felt at that moment.  If any of you fit the description of his new girlfriend please do not take offense.  When you’re a parent you understand that people can live hard lives and still come out on top.  I am one of those people.  However – it’s just not what you want for your child. 

So immediately I went into Mom Mode.  I asked if they would like to come to dinner so that I could meet her and her baby.  He lightened up immediately and said:  Sure that would be great.  And so that brings us to the present.  Tonight is the night.  Tonight is the night I will sit across from the 17 year old high school drop out baby mamma that is trying to actually step in on my son and his perfectly good life.  She will sit across from me and she will know.  She will know that I will be watching her.  They all do.  It’s happened many, many times before. 

Obviously this is a two-part post.  God help me tonight.  I will try to behave.  If I am unable, my shins will be bruised from under-the-table kicking, and somewhere my son end up comforting a 17 year old high school drop out baby mamma because his mother was a brutal bitch. 

Lord Have Mercy On ME!!!