A Mother's Balancing Act

Rihanna, Don't Do It

Aside from the obvious knee-jerk response of my headline above, I find myself contemplating Rihanna's recent reconciliation with batterer Chris Brown disheartening on so many levels. Many of you know that I serve on a coalition for a local domestic violence shelter for women and their children. The primary purpose of our group is to raise awareness about domestic abuse in an effort to stop the abuse before it even happens. Education results in prevention. It's been proven time and again.

Until this week, I hadn't realized that little kids (like 4 and 5 year olds) are talking about this incident on playgrounds. No, I am not exaggerating. They have heard about this from their older siblings, in after school care, day care and when the news is on. Perhaps they've even overheard their parents talking about it over a nice glass of wine.

The point is, little kids know that their hero from Nickelodeon and Sesame Street (yes, Chris Brown has made numerous appearances on Sesame Street) beat up his girlfriend. And now, as if that wasn't bad enough, Rihanna has taken him back.

The message to the kids out there?

It's OK to beat up your girlfriend as long as you're sorry you did it afterward.

As a celebrity, Rihanna had (and perhaps even still does if she wakes up and kicks Brown's butt to the curb), the opportunity to make a huge impact on young people in our society -- both male and female. I know she's practically still a kid herself, but in taking Brown back, Rihanna just set us back about 25 years on the domestic violence awareness campaign.

Rihanna, dump that sorry sleazbag, and move on. No one deserves to be hit. And he didn't do it once or even twice. He beat the living daylights out of you.

Kick him to the curb. Today.

And parents? Talk to your kids. They know more than you think. And less than you think. Check out the resources below for some conversation starters. You'll be glad you did.

Balanced Babe (aka Molly Wendland)

Some Resources that May Be Useful to You:

Tips for Parents

How To Talk To Your Children About Healthy Relationships Handbook

Resources For Parents

How To Talk To Your Teens Handbook

Teen Dating Violence Survey Results

Communicating with Teens About Dating Violence

And check out my writing partner over at White Trash Mom's post on this same subject. Michelle has some great links to awesome info.

Women Drivers...Are We Really This Bad?

This is a hilarious video. Had to share.  Download FemaleDrivers

As my cousin who sent this to me noted, I have nothing against women drivers. Some of my closest friends are also women drivers. =) I also happen to know some men (who shall remain nameless...you know who you are...ahem) who have every bit as much trouble parking as the one gal in the video here. OK, well, maybe not every bit as much but far more than the average bear...

Clearly, these are very rare examples of what can happen, to anyone, really, in man-made machinery.

Perhaps the drivers were drinking their coffee while driving? Or perhaps they simply just have teenagers? That really can explain a lot if you ask me.

Cheers,

Balanced Babe (aka Molly Wendland)

Creepy Guys Suck!

That's right. The title of this post pretty much sums it up in a nutshell. Creepy guys give the rest of the good guys - like my BSM (that's Big Strong Man for those of you just joining us...) - a bad rep.

I was doing some shopping yesterday outside of the pristine suburban (no, not so very plastic, thank you very much!) bubble that we live in. My girls need costumes for a party this weekend, so I thought that perhaps, the thrift stores might be just the ticket for an old prom dress or some such thing. Normally, this type of shopping trip wouldn't phase me at all. In fact, I find them to be a challenge.

I had gone to an client appointment in the morning, even though I had the day off, so I was dressed in a nice skirt, blouse and cardigan sweater. I had on some of my favorite, newer peep-toe shoes with a kitten heel, but I have to say, "peep-toe's" are not an invitation to every weirdo crackpot in the city to come on to me. Um, yeah...but I digress...

So, I had already endured leering eyes from yucky guys in two thrift stores when I came upon a Big Lots. The one in our neighborhood recently went out of business, so I decided to pop in. Long story short, a creepy dude proceeded to tail me, make eyes at me every chance he got and tail me through the store the entire time I was there. To the point that he sufficiently freaked my crud out. After he slinked onto the aisle I was on (after I had zigged and zagged a couple of times to shake loose of him) yet again, I got fed up and headed to the checkout with my shopping cart. The whole time, he never had a cart or any products in his hands.

When I got to checkout, I calmly told the cashier about my experience and asked if there was someone who might escort me to my car. I told her I just thought you needed to trust your instinct in these situations. She nodded appreciatively and immediately called a guy up to her register to help me to my car. I had been thinking of the self-defense class my daughters and I had taken where they said to never have both of your hands full when walking in a parking lot. Within moments of me relaying my story, Creepy Dude slinked up behind me (one of 3 registers available at the time), and I quietly let the cashier know that he was "the one". He was now carrying a large metal spoon and some other small item. The nice gentleman carried my items to my car for me as I told him of my experience in their store and that they might want to watch out for that guy who was coming out behind us.

The store employee told me he'd be watching until I got out of the lot, etc. Creepy Dude came out of the store and stood there and watched us the whole time. Then, he headed to a bicycle that was parked in front of the store.

Perhaps, he was just mentally ill. Or perhaps, he was going to just leave his bike there and force me into my car to violate me or even just steal my car.

I don't know. Any way around it...

Creepy guys suck.

Balanced Babe - (aka Molly Wendland)

Note: For a look at my oh-so-sexy peep-toe's, click here. They're the ones in the middle of the shot of three pairs. And yes, I do kind of have a little bit of a fetish. Sort of like the chick in the book to movie "In Her Shoes". I don't always even wear them. Fun movie, by the way. Even better book!

Extra note after the fact: I've been laughing when I tell this story to my friends. You know, how I attract the best-looking 50 year old guys with comb-over's of anyone I know and stuff like that? So, it's funny now, but this Creeper really did freak me out, and I was afraid to walk to my car alone...in broad daylight. And that does suck. In particular as a mother of two teenage daughters and an advocate for domestic violence awareness, it really pisses me off. Women shouldn't have to be afraid. It just sucks.

A Mother's Angst

Ah, the teen years...shopping, movies, going steady, staying up late chatting with your girlfriends, cruising Main Street, going to the "Big Game" and "The Dance"...

OK, who am I kidding? Yes, there's time for socializing, but my kids' lives are filling me with angst. It's more like this:

• Homework
• Studying for the "Big Test"
• Working on the group project
• Staying up late texting about who's responsible for what on the group project
• Cruising Wal-Mart late at night, panicked, searching for that last minute item for the "Big Project"
• Doing the dance between needing sleep and needing to study more for the "Big Test" in AP Chemistry

Is it just me, or has high school gotten out of hand? One of our daughters is involved in sports, and the other is not, but both are in honors classes. And both are outrageously busy. When does a kid have time to be a kid? A teen have time to be a teen? Yes, we want them to be prepared for college. Yes, we want them to do well on college entrance exams and hopefully get good scholarships to good schools. Yes, we want them to be well-rounded.

I pray for guidance every day. As I sit here mulling it over, sipping my coffee, It just seems to me that there isn't enough time for them to be kids. Is it just me? They're such good kids. They're really not even complaining, but their teen years are flying by so fast without them even realizing it. Perhaps it's just me, and I'm just getting old...perhaps that's it.

Perhaps.

Balanced Babe (AKA Molly Wendland)

Teens and Halloween - What's a Good Curfew???

  OK, so my 17 year old has multiple Halloween activities tonight. A volunteer food collecting activity (in lieu of trick-or-treating...) and two parties to attend. She is a really good kid, super serious and studious (to the point of me occasionally worrying about this (go figure...). Yes, I know that's a good problem to have. And no, I promise that I'm not one of those parents with blinders on about their perfect kid. She's just not into a lot of the partying that many teenagers are into.

However, tonight, she does happen to have two parties to go to. One is a party at a friend's from elementary school days. This particular friend has been having this party since they were really little. It's always been a great time - scavenger hunt, etc. Good old fashioned fun. The other one is at a newer friend from high school but also a nice girl.

Here is my dilemma. Her usual curfew is 11 pm. We have been tossing around the idea of extending it to 11:30 this year, just in general. We've also talked about extending it for special nights like this, at the least. Tonight, I'm thinking midnight might be in order, especially since the two parties are about 6 miles apart, and the second one will be about that far from our house.

Those of you with teens, what are their curfews, and do you extend them for special occasions?

Balanced Babe (Molly Wendland)

They Drive Me Batty!

Life is stranger than fiction, at least in my home!  It is 11:30 at night, I am FINALLY calling it a day and crawling into bed when my children, 16 & 19, request my presence.  The mere fact that they want anything to do with me is alarming, but at this hour I am shocked.

Of course the request comes in the form of a text - they are just in the hallway outside my bedroom though. I MUST come to the hallway, NOW.

After some bantering, all I want is to sleep.  I walk to the hallway to find a bat hanging from the ceiling in the hallway.  Being the brave single mother that I am, I calmly go back into my bedroom and call the non-emergency police number.  Yes, with the strange neighbors I have it is programmed into my cell phone.  I ask if they can dispatch animal control.  "No, mam; they don't work at this hour.  Can I help you?"  I explain that there is a bat hanging from my hallway ceiling and that I would like it to disappear.  Thirty minutes or so later, the friendly police squad show up to rid my house of the bat.

Cop one asks if I have a ladder, but decides on taking the kitchen chair instead - low ceilings I guess.  Cop two stops the proceedings to pull out her cell phone and take pictures of the bat.  All the while, I just want this thing gone so I can go back to bed.  Cop one carefully climbs upon the chair and pulls out his tin can with a lid in which he  begins to scoop the bat.  Well darn that popcorn ceiling, his little feet are pretty tightly implanted onto my ceiling and he is not wanting to release his hold, so the bat begins to screech.  My two yappy miniture dachshunds chime in with this screeching too.  I knew exactly how the Grinch felt, "Oh the noise, noise, NOISE!"  Alas, my faithful and friendly policemen successfully scrape the bat off the ceiling and into their tin can.

They walk out my front door and before the door is even fully closed - let it go.  By the grace of G-d, the damn creature did not re-enter my house.  12:30 am, I am definitely ready for some sleep!  Had this bat been a rich and gorgeous Bruce Wayne, I would have welcomed him to stay much later, ah but not the luck of this fair maiden.

Yours in the Blogosphere,

Coffee Queen

Introducing...A New Author on Mother's Balancing Act

Drumroll, please...

Allow me to introduce the newest addition to my Mother's Balancing Act team, Coffee Queen!

She's balancing a career in sales while raising two teens as a happily divorced (did I mention available?) mom who has been a dear friend of mine for many years. When not working or attending one of her many kids' activities, you might find her drinking one of the skads of cups of coffee she consumes on a daily basis (usually decaf...go figure), working on her latest quilting project, playing with one of her crazy miniature dachsunds, volunteering for SAFEHOME, helping fight Juvenile Diabetes (which her daughter was diagnosed with last year), hanging out with her adorable mother (yes, she's a member of the "sandwich generation"), or at the gym (did I mention she's one hot mama?).

Coffee Queen goes a mile a minute and manages to pull it all off with grace and style. However, having said that, her feet are firmly planted in the White Trash Mom movement (thank God, or I might not be able to call her my BFF!), and her very first post will carry a "weird" tag, so you know she'll fit right in here. I'm guessing future posts will fit into such categories as:

• Coffee (that great elixir of life...)
• Tales from the Dweeb Side
• Parenting/Teens
• Working Moms
• Single Moms/Motherhood
• Divorced and Dating???
• Muffia
• Pets, namely the aforementioned crazy min dachsunds

OK, so...the next post on this site will be from...you guessed it. Our very own...Coffee Queen!

Cheers!

Balanced Babe (Molly Wendland)

Parenting Mistakes and Missteps

Tonight at dinner, we had a little trip down memory lane. And not exactly the memory lane lined with rose petals. More like the one lined with a thorny rose thicket. At least we can all laugh about it...now, that is. It was a different story three years ago when Girl 1 was just turning 14, a still awkward 8th grader, and oh-so-primed for a big day.

I dug this post out of the archives of my White Trash Mom posts...

OMG! How Could I Do That?

So, year after year, October is the month from HELL at our house! I love my daughters, don't get me wrong. But having their birthdays one week apart during the busy back-to-school season is a huge ordeal every year. They both have a slew of activities on an ongoing basis (ok, my bad, I know…) - - - and then, the dreaded birthdays! And, worse, the dreaded birthday parties!

So, this year, my eleven year old thought she was making it easy on me. She chose a murder mystery party. All of the materials were available online. You just paid and downloaded. Sounds simple, right? Not so fast. Then, you need props, decorations, costumes, meals for the little monsters, and the list goes on. So, the day before the party, I went to a carnival supply store for party provisions. Thinking I had all the time in the world, I strolled along, contemplating each possible purchase. A hundred seventeen dollars to the perky lady in the red apron, and I headed to Costco for the food. Two hundred dollars and 892 calories later, and I was out the door. Damn, those samples are lethal.

I pulled into the school parking lot ten minutes late, knowing that my darling little cherubs would recognize that I'd been slaving away for "the good of the party". But I arrived to the surly and insistent stare of my almost-14-year-old. "So, what happened? Did they cancel?" she asked crossly. "What do you mean?" I replied. Her head spun around a couple of times. "My ortho appointment? 10 am?" she demanded. I nearly ran over the plaid girls crossing the parking lot. Panicked, I pulled over to an illegal spot and started hyperventilating. No time like the present to revisit all those samples I'd had.

Seeing my daughter's face, I knew that she'd already processed that I had totally spaced the appointment for her to get her braces off. There was no denying it. I was so screwed. I had forgotten! OMG! How could I do that? If you have a child with braces, you might have an idea what a momentous day this was to have been for her. But no, I BLEW IT OFF! I had no excuse - except, of course, that I had spent the whole day planning her sister's birthday party. Not to mention, scarfing down copious samples of pasta pockets, cheesecake, quesadillas, tortilla soup, pizza, Five Alive and Scope. No Brownie points there, believe me. And her 14th birthday was two days later. So, not only did she not get her braces off that day, she didn't have them off for her own birthday, either. I'm going to hell. WT Hell. With bells on.

Cocktail hour starts early at our house in October. Who needs a clock, really? Make mine a double - and hold the ice. And the mixer. Just give me the damn bottle.

Yeah, those were the days...So, tonight, Girl 1 reminded me that when it comes time for Girl 2 to get her braces off, I CAN'T forget! (duh...). Yeah, that would pretty much make me dead meat as a mom, now wouldn't it? Either that or just really set my white trash motherhood in stone...

Cheers,

Balanced Babe

So, year after year, October is the month from HELL at our house! I love my daughters, don't get me wrong. But having their birthdays one week apart during the busy back-to-school season is a huge ordeal every year. They both have a slew of activities on an ongoing basis (ok, my bad, I know…) - - - and then, the dreaded birthdays! And, worse, the dreaded birthday parties!

So, this year, my eleven year old thought she was making it easy on me. She chose a murder mystery party. All of the materials were available online. You just paid and downloaded. Sounds simple, right? Not so fast. Then, you need props, decorations, costumes, meals for the little monsters, and the list goes on. So, the day before the party, I went to a carnival supply store for party provisions. Thinking I had all the time in the world, I strolled along, contemplating each possible purchase. A hundred seventeen dollars to the perky lady in the red apron, and I headed to Costco for the food. Two hundred dollars and 892 calories later, and I was out the door. Damn, those samples are lethal.

I pulled into the school parking lot ten minutes late, knowing that my darling little cherubs would recognize that I'd been slaving away for "the good of the party". But I arrived to the surly and insistent stare of my almost-14-year-old. "So, what happened? Did they cancel?" she asked crossly. "What do you mean?" I replied. Her head spun around a couple of times. "My ortho appointment? 10 am?" she demanded. I nearly ran over the plaid girls crossing the parking lot. Panicked, I pulled over to an illegal spot and started hyperventilating. No time like the present to revisit all those samples I'd had.

Seeing my daughter's face, I knew that she'd already processed that I had totally spaced the appointment for her to get her braces off. There was no denying it. I was so screwed. I had forgotten! OMG! How could I do that? If you have a child with braces, you might have an idea what a momentous day this was to have been for her. But no, I BLEW IT OFF! I had no excuse - except, of course, that I had spent the whole day planning her sister's birthday party. Not to mention, scarfing down copious samples of pasta pockets, cheesecake, quesadillas, tortilla soup, pizza, Five Alive and Scope. No Brownie points there, believe me. And her 14th birthday was two days later. So, not only did she not get her braces off that day, she didn't have them off for her own birthday, either. I'm going to hell. WT Hell. With bells on.

Cocktail hour starts early at our house in October. Who needs a clock, really? Make mine a double - and hold the ice. And the mixer. Just give me the damn bottle.

Yeah, those were the days...So, tonight, Girl 1 reminded me that when it comes time for Girl 2 to get her braces off, I CAN'T forget! (duh...). Yeah, that would pretty much make me dead meat as a mom, now wouldn't it? Either that or just really set my white trash motherhood in stone...

Cheers,

Balanced Babe

I Love My Teenager

That's right. You read it correctly. Catch me on a different day, and it may read differently, but today the headline stands. Well, any day it's true. Every day it's true. I will always love my children. However, as any parent of a teen knows, there are days, and there are days...

Lately, my 16 year old has been a real trooper. She's done things like unload the dishwasher, set the table for dinner and help get ready for a party -- without being asked! And when she is asked, she does the work without complaint and often asks what she can do next when she's finished. No kidding!

Actually acting surprised/grateful when we give her a little spending money for an evening out, even though we know she's making money at a job of her own. Walking beside me instead of two or three steps ahead or behind (love that...) Even laughing at my jokes and telling me my hair looks nice.

And yes. I'm writing all of this down right here - online, so I know that it's real. I realize that it will probably be short-lived. Just for the record, I'm (incredibly) thankful. I am extremely grateful for this beautiful, intelligent child. And again, I am thankful for both of my children, and I love both of them dearly. I just happen to be especially thankful for my 16 year old today.

Sometimes putting it in writing helps down the road when you're so mad you could spit nails (or worse!), so here it is in writing. As a reminder. For those days that might be darker...down the road. For now, though, I'm going to revel in the splendor of a pleasant teenager (gloat...)

(Note: School has started, and the tide is turning, so I thought I'd better hurry up and post this. I wrote this ten days ago but for whatever reason didn't post it. Perhaps, I thought everyone would cast aspersions -- and rocks -- in my general direction for having this great teenager. Anyway, suffice it to say that I am posting now before it's too late, and the sentiment is lost altogether!)

Balanced Babe

Baby to Teen in 60 Seconds Flat?

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe. It seems like only yesterday that I was catching her crossing the street without my permission. And now...well, now there's no telling what she's doing without my permission! Ugh...that's a sobering thought with which to end the day.

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe. It must have only been yesterday that we were searching for the Mallard ducks who faithfully come back to our neighborhood each year to mate. And now, well, let's just say she'd better not be entertaining any mating thoughts. Ah, but I'm relatively certain that any such thoughts are still far back in the recesses of her mind...right?

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe. It had to be only yesterday when I took her first uniform to be hemmed. Two inches above the knee. Not a millimeter more. And now. Well, now...suffice it to say that it was a negotiation...ahem...and in the presence of a nun no less. The nun who would be doing the hemming for us. For a lowly $8.00 per hem. I had the feeling that a few Hail Mary's were in order after we left Sister's modest apartment.

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe. Surely it was only yesterday that we walked into the kindergarten room, her hand clutching tightly to my own, be-ribboned pig-tails streaming down her shoulders. Now? Yeah. Well, now, I can't say for certain that I even got a goodbye this morning as she hopped out of the car, off on her new adventure.

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe. Wasn't it only yesterday that she stood in front of the chimney, posing proudly with the Tweety Bird backpack and the My Little Pony lunch bag? Now...ha...now, the backpack is filled with about 45 to 50 back-breaking pounds of books, the size (and cost) of which Big Strong Man and I didn't have until college.

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe. I'm certain that it had to be yesterday that she was chasing the boys at recess, and if she caught them? If she caught them, she immediately ran the other direction! Now? Now, I can't imagine her doing such a thing. Wouldn't have the nerve. Plus, she's far too classy for that. Or so I tell myself...ha.

My baby started high school today. It's hard to believe.

It's a whole new chapter. One that I hope to manage as gracefully as possible.

Balanced Babe