Weekly Recap

1. Tornado A is so good at getting under people’s skins that he got my mom to threaten to get rid of the dog.
2. Tornado A recognizes empty threats when he hears them and wears them like badges of honor.
3. I forgot to get a first day of school picture. I think I failed as a mom.
4. I’m still not over my kids showing up on their dad’s days whenever they want.
5. The ex is annoyed that the kids decide what house they will be at for dinner on his nights by asking what is for dinner at his house and mine. I said he and I would’ve done the same thing at their ages.
6. I’m the English Department’s Big Sister. No one even hides it any more.
7. I’ve got to get better at checking off the boxes after I did the habit or chore. The checking off part seems to be a big problem for me.
8. Tornado E did the right thing without being nagged or guilted. I must be doing something right.
9. Tornado S used his phone to take pictures of his supply lists and assignments and sent them to me. That’s a big step towards organization.
10. I think this is going to be a good school year.

Mortal Kombat with a Teenager

My kids love their video games. Lately they’re playing Mortal Kombat 11. I casually mentioned that I used to play Mortal Kombat back in the day. And Street Fighter. And Soul Caliber. And Tekken. I just like fighting games.

A couple years ago I took the kids to a retro arcade exhibit. It’s weird to think the arcade games I played at their age are retro. I taught them to play The Simpson Game, The Teenage Mutant Ninja Game, and, of course, Mortal Kombat.

The other day, after I took them to an arcade and pizza place for one last summer event, Tornado E asked if I wanted to play Mortal Kombat 11 with him. I said sure.

I sat with him, and he handed me a remote.

Tornado E: I thought we would start with the tutorial. Um, have you ever held an X-box controller.

Let’s pretend that’s a joke, since I taught him to play all those years ago.

I did the tutorial. Tornado E coaching me through the moves. He even complimented me as well.

Then it was time to play.

He chose his guy. I chose my favorite.

And we battled.

And I won.

Me: It’s just a fluke.

Round 2. And I won. By quite a bit.

Tornado E: Huh. Do you want to play again?

Me: Sure.

The thing is. I shouldn’t have been able to beat him. He plays more than me. If I play Injustice with Tornado A, he beats me. Actually, he says I cheat if I use a move more than twice.

We play again.

Tornado E won the first battle.

I won the second.

Tornado E won the third.

Tornado E: So you liked to play these games, huh?

Me: Yup.

Tornado E: You played them a lot?

Me: Yeah. Didn’t you see what game I played when we were on the arcade on vacation?

Tornado E: No.

Me: Yeah. They had Soul Caliber on free play. That’s what I played while you were all playing.

Tornado E: Huh. Do you want to play again?

What Can Go Wrong… Part 3

Then came the Illness Vacation. I was the only one who got ill. But I’m the adult, the driver, and the funder, so it’s kind of a big deal for me to be sick on a vacation.

It was a weird summer anyways. I had already gotten food poisoning at the beginning of the summer. And I just kept getting sick. I have the immune system of a cockroach.

It all started on our second day. I came down with a yeast infection at Disneyland. I just never had one before, and it was very uncomfortable. I just had to be zen all day. I wasn’t going to leave Disneyland until we were ready. Tickets are really expensive, and rides are very fun. But I did run to the drugstore as soon as we left Disneyland for medicine.

Everything was fine. For a little while.

A few days later I took the boys exploring, looking for a really cool slide that I knew about. My throat was scratchy and getting worse. I was feeling run down and tired. I decided I must be dehydrated, so I picked up water and a soda.

By the time we met friends at Medieval Times, I was starting to go down hill. My throat was feeling worse. I was getting more and more tired. I wasn’t feeling a hundred percent. I asked my friend if she knew where a drugstore was. She gave me a funny look and told me. Later I realized that she remembered that I had worked in this area, so I should have known. I was getting sick.

After dinner, we went to the store. I bought medicine. I bought the boys more snacks. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, put the boys to bed, take my medicine, and get to bed too. I never get sick, so a little NyQuil, and I was sure to be fine the next day.

Even with medicine that night, I woke up feeling hellish. But we were driving home. I could do this. I’ll be sitting all day. How bad could it be?

I had to stop the drive within the hour to rest. I was falling asleep.

I took a cat nap and traveled on. For another 45 minutes. Then I had to stop again. We made it 30 minutes before we had to stop again for me to quickly nap. The boys thought it was weird, but they had movies and snacks.

Then every 20 minutes I was stopping to rest. By this time, it was getting later in the day; we were moving out into the desert. I didn’t want to sleep with a car running, but I couldn’t turn off the car and leave the windows down because it was so damn hot.

I realized that I couldn’t keep us moving. I couldn’t keep the boys safe. I was so worried, scared, sick, and tired. We had to stop. I had to rest. Maybe for a few hours. Maybe for the rest of the day.

I pulled over and called my parents, who were on vacation in another state. My dad agreed with me over where I was going to stop for the night. I called the ex to let him know I had to extend the vacation and why. He was fine with it.

I made it to the state border town and pulled off at the first exit with a hotel that I saw.

I walked in and asked if there was any vacancies.

Yes.

Can I do early check-in?

The woman gave me a once over and looked over at the boys. Absolutely. Let’s get you in now.

It was noon.

Thankfully it was a nice little hotel. Because we were in the middle of the desert in the middle of the summer on a weekend, the hotel wasn’t expensive.

I dragged up the snacks and DVD player up to the room. The boys brought in their toys. I hooked up the DVD player and put on movies. I showed the boys the snacks and drinks and told them to eat what they wanted. We had plenty of healthy snacks like fruit, nuts, chex mix, and fruit leathers.

I slept all afternoon.

When I woke, I checked our supplies and noted what we needed for an extra night. I took us out to a place I knew had soup. The boys were ecstatic because the restaurant had a salad bar. At dinner I looked for an urgent care of some sort, but because we were in a small town, they didn’t have one. The nearest one was in Phoenix, so I booked an appointment for the next day.

I took the boys to a box store to pick up a few extra clothes, another DVD, and some more snacks. I sent everyone to bed early because we need to be up early so I could make my emergency appointment.

Luckily the hotel served breakfast, so that we were able to get something to eat before we got on the road.

At my appointment, I learned I had strep. The 2nd time in my life. The nurse told me the antibiotics they gave me for my root canal earlier that month just destroyed my system. She gave me different antibiotics and other medicines. We had lunch while we waited for the prescription to be filled.

We made it home two hours later, and with the medicine, I was feeling much better.

I should end every single on of these posts in one way: my boys believe we have never had anything go wrong on our trips.

Nothing ever goes wrong on our trips.

Being a Better Adult

I cannot stop thinking about an AITA that I read. A man’s wife cheated on him, got pregnant, and left him. The other dude was killed shortly after. The man shared joint custody of their daughter with his ex wife, who had another daughter. For 14 years, this man has been kind but standoffish with this half-sister of his daughter, and this 14 year old increasingly tried to build a father-daughter relationship with this man, going so far as to give him a father’s day gift and a speech about what a great dad he was. This dude threw away the gift and asked if he was an a-hole and keeps putting up stronger and stronger boundaries.

And yeah, dude, I think you’re an asshole. Even if everyone else does. Because clearly that girl needs someone, and if your walls and boundaries couldn’t keep her from loving you, then she doesn’t have anyone else.

My aunt and uncle were on a break when I was a kid. My aunt decided to take my uncle back, but he knocked up some chick. My aunt was pretty petty towards my little cousin. Hell, my aunt treated my little cousin’s older half-sister better than she treated my little cousin. My cousin grew up always knowing she wasn’t as good as her older half-brothers. Man, that pissed me off as a teenager, watching this whole dynamic.

My older cousin was married twice. His second wife treated his daughter from his first wife with disdain. As though it was the kid’s fault for being born before you ever knew her daddy existed.

In both cases, the fathers did little to protect their children. In both cases, I might have been young, but I wasn’t stupid; I wasn’t blind. I made my decision of what kind of adult I would be. One that would never hold the children responsible for the crimes of their parents.

I do have sympathy for that dude. I get it. I really do. Because my ex knocked up his ex-girlfriend just months after Tornado 3 was born. I made a decision. I was never going to punish that little girl for what her parents did to me.

And this dude. He remarried. He has more kids. He has a house and a partner. Things are going great in his life. He can’t be adult enough to help out a little kid. He can’t get over what his first wife did to him.

Never mind. I have no sympathy for this dude. I live with my parents. My ex rarely pays me. I don’t have a partner. I have a lot of reasons to be bitter and pissed off, but I would never take it out on a kid.

Every time I see my kids’ half-sister, I ask her questions about her day, her clothes, her school, her toys. She has given me hugs, and I return them. During lock down, she missed her brothers, so her mom asked if I could have the little sister over. I said yes. She played with her brothers. We fed her. I never got annoyed when her mom was a couple hours late to pick her up.

Now I’ve learned that this little girl is having issues. I can’t help. I want to. Desperately. She’s a 12 year old little girl with crappy parents. She needs help. My hands are tied.

So yeah, dude, you’re the asshole. Every kid deserves a community to support, love, and care for them. As an adult, it’s your job to be the adult you wished, as a kid, you had. As an adult, it’s your job to make the world a kinder, better place. As an adult, you get to make this a better community.

It’s easy to dismiss me. I’m a mom. I’m a teacher. But I assure you, I’ve believed in this long before I was either of these things. As a teenager, I felt it was our duty to protect the littles. I get some kids are brats, but they are brats because they have crappy adults around them. Be the better adult.

It really isn’t that hard.

Apple Strawberry Salsa

I learned you can’t copywrite a recipe. Crazy. And I have a lot of recipes I snagged in places. I thought Mondays I can publish recipes. It’s a thought. And I realized I haven’t posted a recipe in like years. I went back and looked. No one else would do that. So I’ll probably repost those too.

My favorite snack in the world.

Apple-Strawberry Salsa.

You need:

• A quart of strawberries
• 3 kiwi fruit
• 1 green apple
• juice of half an orange
• 2 table spoons of brown sugar

Cube up the fruit. Mix in the orange juice and brown sugar. And bam.

I eat this with a spoon and gorge myself. But if you want to actually eat it like salsa, you need chips.

Cinnamon- Sugar Tortilla chips

• Spray/sprinkle a tortilla with water
• Make a mixture of cinnamon and sugar. (I like mine sweeter. I know people like more cinnamon.)
• Sprinkle the mixture on the tortilla.
• Cut the tortilla in 8 slices.
• Bake at 350 for 10 minutes or until golden brown.
• Repeat for how many chips you would like. I used to need 4 tortillas worth.

What Can Go Wrong… Part 2

I cannot overstate how important the portable DVD player has been for our road trips. I got one when Tornado E was a toddler. My parents complained that it wasn’t ok for a toddler to spend so many hours watching TV. Ok, Mom, Dad, what did you do with toddlers when your traveled?

That’s right. You put down the backseat of the truck, making a flat area for us kids to play.

My brothers and I didn’t wear seatbelts on vacation until we were in our preteens.

Stupid things older generations did to endanger population growth.

I couldn’t and wouldn’t want my toddler climbing around. Let’s face the cute little steering wheel busy toy won’t last an hour, much less eight. So portable DVD player!

Back when everyone was building them into the headrests. I insisted on getting something I could take out.

So imagine if you will, the first vacation that was an eight-hour drive, and we were going home, so I had three tired children, ready to irritate each other to no end.

We got an hour or so down the road when the DVD player stopped. I pulled over. Examined it. I couldn’t find anything wrong.

Fine. Kids can entertain themselves. Boredom is good for you.

Within twenty minutes I was looking for a Target sign of the freeway.

I bought a portable DVD player.

I plugged it in and got the movie started. Things were fine for a while. We had stretched our legs, used the facilities, and bought a few snacks as well.

We got about two hours down the road when the DVD player stopped.

Well, that can’t be right. I just bought the thing.

But Google exists, and it suggest we blew a fuse. I found the fuses, and sure enough, we had blown a fuse. Which makes me suspect that’s what happen to the first portable DVD player.

Fuses are easy to buy. When you’re not in the middle of nowhere.

So next town, we pull in. I locate an auto parts store and buy a set of fuses. It never hurts to have a few more. I fix the problem, and off we went.

Until the next fuse blew.

This feels like a weird coincidence. But I fix it. Off we go.

Until the next fuse blew.

Now I have several more fuses, but these will takes us another hour or two of driving if I have to change the fuses so often. Maybe there was something wrong with the wiring. Or something wrong with the DVD player…

I looked. The boys had the DVD player on charging the battery instead of using the car battery. And that is what was blowing the fuses.

I hit the switch and returned to driving.

It could’ve been worse…

What Can Go Wrong…

Let’s talk about things going wrong on vacations.

(So I worked on this earlier today, and it turns out that putting all the different things that happened on summer vacations can get really long, like really long, so I’m cutting them up, spacing them out. {On another note, I wonder if I can keep this up during the school year; let’s try.} Then I got a call from my kids, and it’s a lot harder to blog without nap time. So let’s make the bad funny.)

The first vacation out of state was a 5 day trip to San Diego.

Yes, we went to Sea World. And I know there are issues. I know. But I love dolphins so much, and I didn’t have the money to do a dolphin watch trip. And Tornado E got to go to Sea World for a school trip, but the other kids didn’t. And I got a great deal because I was a teacher.

The first day there my BFF joined us, and we did Sea World. I had amazing lunch of pasta and shrimp. We had a melt down because Tornado A was too little to go on a ride with Wally. And my trip with Tornado E and his class was still better because I GOT TO PET A DOLPHIN!

We bought cool souvenirs. I still have the large beach towel, and Wally found us an amazing burger place for dinner.

The next day I took the kids to look at the mission and then the beach. On the way to the beach, I realized we didn’t have any beach toys, so we stopped and bought some at Target. Stopping at Target will be a ritual to be repeated in all our vacations. Then it was getting lunch time, so we stopped for lunch.

We pull up to the state beach, and I pay a large amount for parking. I park the car and turn around … to find all three kids sleeping. All three. Dead asleep. I was really disappointed because I wasn’t dumb enough to wake sleeping children. Now we were at the beach, and they were going to miss it because they were sleeping.

But then I remembered I was at the beach. We could stay here until it closed. I also had a book. I had a soda. I had a beautiful view of the ocean.

So I rolled down the windows, cracked a soda, and opened my book. I had an hour of enjoying sea breezes and reading until the kids woke and were excited to do the beach.

That night I woke up at 2am to the sound of water flowing. I was confused, but I had young children sleeping and decided it was something for the next morning.

A few hours later I wake up to find that our ceiling had sprung a leak. It was raining in the hotel room! Between the bathroom area and the rest of the room was a curtain of water. Luckily none of our stuff was near the leak or on the floor. The floor was a mess.

We were first floor next to the office, so I ran to the front office to tell them. They came said there wasn’t much they could do because it was a Saturday. Excuse me? I explained that I had 3 children, and I needed a shower. They offered me a recently vacated room to clean up in. But that’s it. And that room was gross because it wasn’t clean. The hotel was booked solid for the weekend and couldn’t give me my money back because it was the weekend.

Fine. Great. I packed up the kids and all our stuff and left.

I wasn’t going to let this set us back or ruin our vacation. We went on with our plans, which was the zoo. During our picnic lunch, I called around and found a new hotel near by who even gave me a discount when I told them what had happened.

The next day we drove up to Long Beach to go to my BFF’s church, where she was a youth minister. I dressed the boys for church, and we hit the road for a 45 minute drive. That’s when we learned Tornado A gets car sick.

Tornado A threw up 3 times on himself. No more church clothes. But I had a spare outfit. No more spare outfit. Now emergency clothes that I keep in the car. The last sickness happened when we were 5 minutes from the church. Tornado A went to church wearing mismatched t-shirt and soccer shorts; while, the rest of us had on nice clothes.

The kids loved the service. How could they not? Wally was running it.

Wally insisted I go out with her to visit her family, so I could do laundry. She even called her mom and put her on speaker so I could hear her mom insist I came over. Really, it was on the way back home. And it was Wally’s nephew’s birthday, and he would love playing with some boys.

I’ve known Wally since college. I’m friends with her little sister. I gave her little sister all my baby stuff after Tornado A grew out of them. My boys taught the boy his first word. Mama. Only they taught him I was Mama. I still feel bad about that. So going over wasn’t as weird as it seems.

It was also Father’s Day. So I stopped at a store on the way there to pick up a gift for the nephew and Wally’s dad. The boys swam and played. I did laundry. Wally’s family insisted we stay for dinner.

Wally found an excellent deal at nice hotel for the night. She felt bad that we had such a bad experience with our first hotel. This would mean I would be well rested for the drive. Tornado A’s stomach would settle. Sure, technically we didn’t have to be back until 5pm the next day. So we stayed.

And the hotel was nice.

The Book of Lists

2020 broke my brain.

Like most people’s brains.

The combination of generational and international trauma on top of depression, anxiety, and a hint of nihilism just put my brain in a weird space that made me cynical, frustrated, and forgetful. Once I noticed it, I hated it.

The Summer of 2021 gave me 2 goals. Goal one: lose the cynicism and jaded out look. Goal two, figure out how to reboot my brain. Why was I forgetting to do things that I never forgot before? Why was my brain zoning out? I might as well have a little wheel spinning in front of face, repeating the words loading … loading… loading… Thanks. I hate this.

So I remembered what I always did when I needed to get things done. Write a list.

I wrote lists on chores. Wrote lists on goals. Wrote lists on plans. Broke plans into lists. Write lists for what the boys needed to do. Lists of what needed to be bought.

We had two trips that year. So I wrote packing lists. I wrote lists of where to go. Lists of what to do. Lists of where to to eat. All inside a notebook that I titled “The Book of Lists.”

But then I did something so very nerdy.

On the way back from our first trip, as we ate, I asked the boys what they enjoyed. I wrote that in The Book of Lists. I asked the boys what they didn’t like. I wrote that in The Book of Lists. I asked the boys what they would change or what can be improved upon. I wrote those answers down in The Book of Lists.

I used those answers to change things for our next trip. It worked beautifully.

Then I did it again. I asked the boys at the end of the trip what they enjoyed, what they didn’t like, what they would do different.

The year after I found The Book of Lists and made a vacation plan based on that. Last year’s vacation was so crazy and great.

Then I did it, writing down the boys’ opinions.

It is the nerdiest thing. It feels like work. But it has made the last trips more enjoyable.

My advice. Do a debriefing at the end of a trip. Also write lists. They’re amazing.

The Rebellion

I raised my kids to question authority. Respectfully. One day I’ll write how this drives my parents crazy.

I also raised them knowing one day they would rebel against me.

My mom had a philosophy of if you give your child something to rebel against, they would. My grandparents were strict on their oldest two children, my aunt and my mother. So the teenage girls wore modest clothing out of the house and dressed in more teen-appropriate attire at school. The dressed back into the modest clothing at home before their parents came home from work. They put on make up at school and washed it off at home before their parents returned. They bummed cigarettes from their parents because with two smokers, no one was keeping track. Every time they asked to go out, it was a no. Sometimes a maybe.

So when my mom raised her own teens, she did things different. If we asked to go out, as long as my parents had the info, the answer was usually yes. I could wear makeup. But the clothing was an issue in my family; my parents’ threats felt like promises. So I never dyed my hair or got that belly-button ring. My brother got more freedom and pushed that envelope to the edge. (I stand by what I said.)

So now I’m raising my own teens, and the rebellion has started. It’s late. It’s not too heated or dumb. My children and I tend to be on the same side against a couple of others in our lives, so they aren’t pushing me that hard. Common enemies help.

But rebellion has come, nonetheless.

***

Me: Are you going out running?

Tornado E: (in his regular clothes heading for the door) Yeah.

Me: It’s 1pm and 108 degrees.

Tornado E: So?

Me: No. Running.

Tornado E: You can’t stop me. (goes out the door)

Me: You better have sunscreen on!

Me: (When he returns from his run) Drink water!

Tornado E: But Mooooooom!

Me: We live in a desert. It is summer. You were outside. Running. Drink. Water. Now.

Tornado E: Fine!

***

Me: Did you shave your legs?

Tornado S: Yes.

Me: Um. Curious. Um. Why?

Tornado S: I like how it feels. And society can’t tell me what to do.

Me: Do you need me to buy you razors and show you how to do it?

Tornado S: Yes, please.

Later that week, Tornado S is cussing and yelling from the shower as he shaves his legs. I am dying with laughter.

My dad: Is he … shaving his legs?

Me: Yeah.

My dad: Why?

Me: Because he likes it and society can’t tell him what to do.

My dad: Huh.

Me: Listen, I have 14 year olds with huge tattoos in my class. Like take up most of the arm tattoos. I’ve got students with crazy piercings and hair styles. If this is how Tornado S wants to rebel, I’m getting off easy.

Tornado S: (from the shower) WHY IS THERE SO MUCH BLOOD?

My dad and I start laughing.

My dad: He may live to regret this.

Tornado S: IT’S SO MUCH BLOOD!

Me: I’m so glad he doesn’t get periods. He would lose it.

***

Tornado A: I’m not going.

Me: You’re going.

Tornado A: I’m not going.

Me: You’re going.

Tornado A: I don’t want to.

Me: I didn’t ask. You’re going.

Tornado A: I’m not going.

Tornado E: Shut up and get in the car before she makes you. It’s just a hike.

Tornado A: I don’t want to.

Tornado S: She’s just going to make you. Just deal with it.

Me: Get in the car.

Ah, teenagers….

Senior Discount

A few weeks ago I took the family out for lunch at a fast food restaurant. I had everyone order, and was getting the total when Tornado A came back to stand next to me.

Tornado A: Don’t forget the senior discount.

The cashier: Your mom isn’t that old.

I just stared at Tornado A with unamused look.

Then today I finally was able to stop at a national park ranger station to get a yearly pass. The ranger gave me the total.

Ranger: Oh, wait. Are you military?

Me: No, ma’am.

Ranger: Any other discounts I need to apply?

Tornado A: How about a senior discount?

Ranger: (to me) He thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he?

Me: He thinks he’s clever.

Tornado A: What?