Alien Nation

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Fri, 15 Jun 2012 18:58:00 +0000

Twenty minutes ago, Jennifer left Auburn Senior High for the very last time. Locker cleaned out, yearbook signed, last French test completed, paintings done (I know, I helped) and word jumble done (Gary helped with that).

Done, done and done. All she needs to do now is walk across the stage on Sunday at the Auburn High School stadium and this 12 year journey is done, and the reset button is hit for college (Seattle University).

I've been watching the Decorah Eagles since February, I can here the 3 fledged chicks crying int he background. They are as big as their parents and calling out to them as they fly away and then come back, and fly away again. They have left the nest, almost. Mom and Dad are hanging around to call encouraging squeals, but the young eagles now have to hunt for themselves.

Much like this summer, Jennifer will have to be learning to hunt for herself. Landing back at home, calling out, but in 10 more weeks, flying away, probably for good (I'm assuming she won't be one of those grads that will be moving in to the ol' homestead 4 years from now, but we'll see).

She was grousing that Gary and I need to get out more, and stop waiting for her to come home. Gary quipped that on Sept. 18, when she's experiencing her first days as a Redhawk, we''ll go to Hawaii for two weeks. She frowned. Yes, J, mom and dad can start leaving the nest too.

College Chase

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 23:50:00 +0000

Okay, I thought this blog would wrap after she turned, but I guess it will do so after she leaves for college...and maybe past that.

So far, Jennifer has applied to 10 colleges (including the holy grail, Stanford) and been accepted to four- including PLU, Baylor, Willamette and U of O. Three (PLU, Willamette and Baylor) have offered scholarships. We just finished the FAFSA last night, so we'll see if we get and $$ from that. But we're not holding our breath. Being solidly middle class, we'll probably just be told to take out loans or raid our 401Ks. Neither, BTW, is happening.

But we have hope that the tuition exchange will kick in, And no matter where she ends up, Jennifer will be fine, and on that point, we've already hit the jackpot.

Moping in her room

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 03:56:00 +0000

Sometimes you just need to cry I guess. Jennifer will be 18 this fall, yet today, she crawled on my lap (more like plopped herself) to talk about her day, and then she's back in her room crying just now, because she's stressed ....and started her period. She has our old cat ginger (14 years old) to keep her company. And a kleenex box, and her texting friends to keep her company, so I'll leave her alone for now.

OK, a few more posts, this one about cars

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 22:08:00 +0000

Jennifer wants a car, and she wants it now.

When I gently remind her that she will get a car, and probably grandma's car this month (we've agreed to buy her 1999 accord for $3500) she then sulked about the color. Yes, you'll get it painted, but only after we have a look at the breaks.

And frankly, once she gets a job...she can paint it any color she wants once she gets the money in the bank.

"What, you mean you're not paying for it," she said, truly amazed. Yes, darling, welcome to almost adulthood.

J's 17th today

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 19:00:00 +0000

She's watching Dukes of Hazard of all things, while eating her favorite pancakes that dad made for this big day.

Tonight, it's off to dinner with friends and then bowling. Dad and I are chauffeurs I guess.

Where did all the 17 years go? I'll be posting the final post in this blog tomorrow, as my alien nation girl, isn't so alien anymore.

Mom,where are you right now?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 03:17:00 +0000

J was up at the house with her b-friend (erstwhile) and wanted a ride down to Kent Station through the rain.

Mom and I had just sat down to lunch (and saw gov. gregoire sitting kitty corner from us). J asked for a snap, but I was afraid of getting tackled by her security detail.

Anyway, we'd just sat down to lunch and I didn't want to get up (I'd been having work interrupt via my b-berry at 2 min. intervals), and dis my 82 year old mother, who was probably already ticked I'd been taking work calls in the first place.

So, Jennifer, use an umbrella or get wet. but I'm sitting here and eating my soup.

Grandma, step away from the eye candy!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 02:26:00 +0000

It was one of those moments that I wish I was one of those people that packed a camera everywhere.

Mom (J's grandma) had decided the music was just too loud inside Gilly Hicks, so I walked her through the maze to the outside, where a 18-year-old with six pack abs that was the greeter outside GH today.

Later, mom told me (to the horrified look of her granddaughter, that she'd talked with the "nice young man" and asked him what his job involved (greeting folks, looking hot, was probably the answer), and if he planned to go on to college. (Not sure what he said to that.)

Jennifer was horrified she'd talked to Mr. Eye Candy at all. But what are you going to say to an 82-year-old woman?

The perfect schwinn

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 00:18:00 +0000

The bike was absolutely perfect, red, and a Schwinn. Unfortunately, it was probably somebody else's.

I was starting at the bike, one that I'm sure my daughter would be delighted with, as it was stashed behind a shrub near the Kent Station. It was red, had good tires and was a girl's bike.

Was it dumped there, or had someone stashed it there, hoping someone like me wouldn't take it?

When I first spotted it on Wednesday, I told Jennifer about it. We decided to leave it be until today. Then we'd check back. If it's still there, it's likely it's dumped and we're going to do some picking.

Mom, I just got cut

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 00:45:00 +0000

That tearful message was on my voicemail at work today.
And again, when J called me back, telling me that she got the bad news that she was not only NOT on the varsity team for v-ball, she wasn't on JV either. That was a total shock, since the coach, just yesterday, lectured her on being a leader for the jv team.

I was speechless. I certainly didn't expect that she wouldn't get on any team. And the fact that the coaches said they would only respond to the kids via e-mail or phone 24 hours from now was a bit heartless I thought. I know, I know, they want to wait for the emotions to ebb. But really, many of these girls turned out for games this summer that they didn't have to turn out for, and showed up for conditioning in 100 degree heat.

At least those girls, and my daughter was one, deserve a face-to-face explanation on why they didn't get picked. Cowards.

Our friends think it's strange, you and I

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 00:51:00 +0000

She actually said "you and me" but I wasn't going to correct her grammar when she was giving me a backward compliment.

Jennifer was talking about the fact that we talk, alot and she tells me just about everything, if sometimes a few beats after the fact.

Her friends think that is strange. Since they don't share secrets or thoughts with their moms, in general, at this age.

Think Gilmore Girls without the snappy banter. Although sometimes we do look at each other and just laugh.

"It's like you're my friend, even thought you're not trying to be my friend, I know that," Jennifer said as we headed off to our favorite b-fast spot today.

"yes, I can be a bitch," I laughed.

"yes, you can," she responds, quite seriously. (thanks dear)

"But I can talk to you."

And I guess in the end, that's the highest compliment at all. I'll have to remember that when I'm grousing at her that she hasn't done her chores, again.

Snarly teens, mad moms

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 04:07:00 +0000

There was a great article in NPR this week on raising teens, and when not to engage. "Experiencing Teen Overload? Blame Biology" made me realize, it's not just me when my daughter suddenly freaks out, slams doors and does everything but have her head start spinning around.

Read and enjoy.

Where are you?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 04:26:00 +0000

That was I was texting to my daughter last night, after waiting for 20 to 30 minutes at Kent Station, and still no daughter picking me up from the train.

No apologies from her.

"Listen, I've been waiting for you for 10 years, at daycare, at the school at the coffee shop, it's your turn now."

Well, that's not much I can say to that. It's the truth.

Turning the other cheek

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 00:10:00 +0000

It's not easy for an adult. I know.

It's also not easy for a 16-year-old girl, whose has been told my her on-off boyfriend that his new foster family doesn't think we're a good influence because we helped Adam (bought him shoes because his old foster family was holding his clothes hostage) when he was declared a runaway.

Now I have no idea when we bought those clothes. Didn't keep the receipt. But I'm pretty sure it was when Adam was briefly in a fostser home before spending a few months in a group home. Regardless, the old fostser family is trying to make Adam's life as miserable as possible, including talking smack about us to his current caseworker.

So, I've told JEnnifer to just let him settle. Hang out with him when school starts. And let this current foster family take. They seem like good people, except for trusting the word of the nut case foster mom he used to live with. But regardless, just let it be.

She's having a hard time with this.

Warned her about suncreen, warned her about strangers in armcasts,but not about falling asleep

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 04:26:00 +0000

In the sun today, at the lake, where she and her friends went after sleepover (which is a misnomer as far as I'm concerned), they usually get to bed between 2 am and 4 am. This morning no breakfast, she just started her period.

She gets to the lake, plays falls asleep, in the sun, and promptly gets up, eats a hot dog and throws up. After make sure this isn't heat stroke, Gary drives over to get her. She's feeling better now. And I think learned a lesson.

Off to kindergarten and a secret life

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 23:34:00 +0000

A "friend" on my Facebook page lamented the fact his daughter was headed off to kindergarten, and all the sudden, the darl'in girl had a life that he wasn't part of.

All the parents of older kids and teens chimed in: Welcome to our world.

The pulling away almost begins immediately, when the pop out of the womb and all the sudden, don't want to cuddle with you...just because.

It continues to kindergarten, getting close bbfs where they share their dreams; texting...all the time, and of course, you don't know who they are talking to or what they are saying (no more listening in on phone conversations...admit it, you did do that before texting.)

Then they start sleepovers, sports, long days at school, jobs and have a car. And suddenly, they are a blur which you think you see sometime between 9 pm and 11 pm. Or more accurately, you see evidence they exist by the dirty clothes on their room floor and the dirty dishes in the sink.

You've got to be kidding me

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 00:20:00 +0000

Jennifer and I didn't dare look at each other Sunday, as we skipped church (yes, we really did, so this is a confession) and tried out a 9:30 am yoga class at LA Fitness.

We were late, as usual, since hubby insisted on feeding us a pancake breakfast, which for the record is not the best thing to eat before yoga.

But off we went, arriving about 10 min. late, but they were still doing "down dog" warm ups, so we figured "no sweat." About 15 min. later we were sweating alot, as the instructor put us through a series of up dogs, down dogs and a few poses inbetween that I have no idea what they are called.

On a few of the poses, Jennifer and I just gave up and laughed. No way, unless we were in the Olympic training camp for gymnastics were we going to strike that pose.

We didn't dare look at each other or we'd burst out laughing. And the lady just to my right was VERY serious about this whole affair. I doubt she would have appreciated it.

At the end tho, when the instructor asked if the session pushed us enough, I couldn't hold it in (my stomach or my laughter). I laughed and said "ma'm, there is NO WAY I'm ever going to to get to any of those poses before I die. But I'm glad to know they exist."

There's another yoga class tonight. But Jennifer and I aren't attending. We'll try again Wednesday.

Stand by that garbage can over there. And don't move.

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 03:25:00 +0000

Seriously.

We'd just climbed over the fence on the south end of the Renaissance Faire in Buckley, and lo, the gendarmes descended. En masse. We explained to the outraged "security detail" that we were looking for the front door into the faire, were willing to pay, but heck, we didn't want to hike up the busy road to the front entrance (which we surmised was NOT were we were). So could you please escort us through and we'll gladly pay.

The guy who stopped us decided this was above his paygrade, told us to stand and stay by the garbage can in front of a juggler's stage, and not to move. (Where, exactly, did he think we would flee? Into the pumpkin patch?)

Finally, his boss showed up, and graciously escorted us through the grounds and to the front, where a $12 ticket and a $8 ticket awaited us (Jennifer had to sing "I"m a little tea cup" to get the student discount since she didn't have her ASB card with her.) She gave me the "do I have to?" look and I shot back, yes you have to. After all that rigmarole, I"m not leaving now.)

Car freedom

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 03:18:00 +0000

Jennifer had the car yesterday, and it reminded me vaguely of the Chase commercial about depositing checks through your i Phone.

"Mom, I'm from the QFC in Covington"

"Mom, I'm at the Starbucks in Kent"

"Mom, I'm taking Adam down to Kent Station"

"Mom, I'm back in Kent, at the Starbucks"

"Mom, I'm on my way to the bus station to pick you up."

If you really knew me.....

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 00:21:00 +0000

I just watched this MTV production with Jennifer last night, and I highly recommend it. For the uninitiated, it follows teens and their clicks in given high schools (and besides the name and the dress, not much as changed in 30 years, you still have the jocks, the cheerleaders, the outcasts (geeks) etc.)

Since this high school was in West Virginia, you had "creekers" who lived near a creek. The cool kids wore camouflage. Really. The homecoming queen liked to hunt.

But after a group came in to break down walls with about 50 to 100 key kids in the school, I found it amazing that that one of the kids hadn't gone in and shot up the school. Their stories were really painful. However, after they shared in a mixed group of clicks, the cheerleader saw that the emo outcast wasn't that much different than her.

Can we skip the gym?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 03:52:00 +0000

At first J said no. And I sighed. AFter working out twice yesterday, once by a fitness Nazi at PLU and the other at an 8 pm yoga class, I was pooped today. However, she agreed to stay home for the day if I helped her plant flowers. I think that was a fair trade.

Men's need to be right

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 04:37:00 +0000

Jennifer finally couldn't stand it any longer.

Jack, her grandmother's b-friend, was arguing which cut a flank steak came from. He was a butcher for decades. Gary, my hubby, the rancher, was arguing it came from another part of the cow. Neither was willing to give ground.

Finally Jennifer - after listening to the back and forth as one titted for the other tat - "OK, let's just move on, I really don't want to hear this anymore."

Surprised, more than anything else, they did.

Good girl.

Mom can I have the car?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 18:43:00 +0000

And so it starts. Jennifer wants the car to meet her friends today down at an South King County theater and then they are going to go to dinner after. Which puts her home around 10 pm.

When I told hubby of this plan, he promptly declared it a waste of time and gas, and we could just as well go and drop her off and pick her up. I told him that it doesn't take that much gas to go where she's going. We've allowed her to do this before AND I don't think gas is the first thing on his mind.

Try the fact he's having problems with the daughter going out, at night, at all with the car.

I might just suggest she go to a matinee and try again later for a soiree with her pals at night.

Working with animals

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 23:07:00 +0000

Jennifer is deciding to maybe take a different track when looking for a summer job. Instead of working at fast food places, she's wondering if a zoo, aquarium or some other animal-related endeavor. I agree. Who wants to work at Abercrombie when you can work with a bald eagle, whales or cats/dogs that need a home.

College hunt

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 05:04:00 +0000

The colleges keep trying to woo Jennifer. Dozens have sent e-mails, more e-mails "is this you, Jennifer?" e-mails, posters, fliers, postcards and gee gaws.

She's looking for a college that will offer a good biology course and one that is far away from us. I think, personally,the thought of living 3,000 miles away might be more attractive than the reality of 3,000 miles away.

At the rate the stock market is going, she'll either have to pick one college from the tuition exchange, or she'll have to win a scholarship. I just hope it isn't to a college 3,000 miles away. Yes, I admit it, I'd miss her. And her dad, don't even get me started. Our travel and phone bills would break us.

One year and counting

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Clements) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 22:02:00 +0000

It seemed to dawn on both Gary and I this weekend.

A year from now, Jennifer will be 18. And technically at least, a grown up.

So in light of that rapidly approaching date, we're going to make some new house rules.

She starts helping me pay the bills and monitor the savings account. This way, she'll know when I say "We don't have any $$ for that." I'm not making it up.

She's going to shop for the household one time a month (for the week) and cook dinner one time a week. AND, she's going to start washing her own laundry.

I know, I know, you're asking why she isn't doing that now. Well, blame her dad on that one. He's a bit of a fanatic about doing laundry all the time. Just as I'm a bit of a fanatic on cleaning up the kitchen. So Jennifer knows if she waits, guess what will be done for her?

We'll have to stop doing that.