Adventures In Motherhood

We pressed delete on endless scrolling this summer and now the Surgeon General has our back.  Instagram, Tik Tok, Reddit, YouTube, endlessly scrolling, his head hunched over staring at his Iphone screen, this was not the 'epic' summer I wanted for my 17-year-old son! Having purchased his own Iphone for his 13th birthday during the pandemic, our son was addicted to the dopamine hits his technology promised without fail.  As parents, we had tried to ' wait til 8th ' with our third child as we had our older two, though the pandemic lockdown just before his April birthday softened our stance. We hoped the Iphone would provide a virtual social media lifeline to his friends that his Tracfone flip phone couldn't replicate. Fast forward four years and we had a cell phone junkie with a Pavlovian response when his Iphone lit up.  Averaging 200+ pickups a day, it pained me to see my son reach into his pocket for his Iphone, at the risk of boredom, walking from the car to the b

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,  not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.  Tucked under the covers 'til 10am without spouse,  I had finally woken alone in my house! Six am, my family set off for the slopes, bittersweet.  My recent knee surgery forced me to kick up my feet. Not before I thrift-shopped my legs off Christmas Eve, for ski pants, gloves and coats fit for teens.  My husband begrudgingly purchased the tickets, complaining the effort, was less worth the beans. You see Forced Family Fun is not for the faint of heart.  Though absolutely better when you can take part! The whine of the child who hates skiing, or apply for jobs, or for that matter, reading,  falls on deaf ears to wise 'ole parents of 4 teens. We may look exhausted tho we are resilient,  We insist on life skills and believe less screen time is brilliant. My daughter in tears her boyfriend had parted,  hadn't realized the fun had only just started! Never mind it had been

The past few days have been a whirlwind of teenage Tik-Tok-worthy wasteland. The dog froze his nutz off in Wallowa Lake and we found ourselves bouncing off our booty cheeks rafting down the Boise River yesterday. Rolling through Utah in the back of the bus today, I’m somewhere between seasick and sadness as I continue my pilgrimage towards Park City, Utah, the last resting slope-scape nirvana for my late brother, and I remain grateful my four children have each other.   Wallowa was the turning point for this Force Family Fun experience. Moving Day 3 heading backwards on the Oregon Trail towards Colorado, we nearly reached the breaking point one hairpin u-turn and scorching coffee spill on my hind leg and that of my Schnoodle in the back seat of the minivan, just shy of the quaint town of Joseph. Nevertheless we forged on to the Switzerland of Oregon, where the Schnoodle was baptized in the glacier waters of Wallowa Lake. Apparently everyone, save myself, froze their nutz off in the lak

We’ve only just begun our trek backwards to Colorado, having already succumbed to the pitfalls of the Oregon Trail...  Determined to see the last of the ‘7 Wonders of Oregon’ on our move east to Colorado, we found ourselves in the Painted Hills yesterday. The red, orange and black colors smudged in the landscape appeared like a sand painting awash on the hills of central Oregon. A paleontological feat, some 35 million years in the making, the history lesson fell on deaf ears thanks to milkshakes and greasy cheeseburgers at the #1 thing to do in Condon, OR.  We hit ‘The Drive In’ in Condon Oregon (insert 13-year-old’s condom joke here 😜) around one o’clock, famished from the Holiday Inn Express breakfast described as ‘mid’ by my four teenagers, because what it lacked in Fruit Loops it made up for in rubbery cheese omelets. A few greasy burgers and milkshakes later, we were well on our way towards John Day National Monument. Let’s just say, we were ill prepared for the awe-inspiring Pai

I let him hit the curb. Hard. I braced myself for impact and it felt good. I'm not sure I've read 'allow your kid to crash the car' in any parenting books, but I'm here to say I finally got his attention. He was driving me crazy! If I had a dollar for every time my 15-year-old expert with the driver's permit said, "I know how to drive MOM," I'd be able to pay for a full tank of inflation-priced fuel for my minivan. Regardless of his expertise, I insist on silence in the car so he can focus, and I can breathe. Unfortunately, that night, there was no greater distraction than two brothers in the backseat begging to turn on the rap music. We had gone out to dinner in a Friday night attempt to steal some family conversation that didn't consist of bathroom banter while my husband was out of town. I was at my wits end from the testosterone overload of parenting three teen boys. Bruh.  Rap music took center stage after devouring the bread and first rou

Gone are the days of kitchen closings for dinner table behavior that belongs in the bathroom! We have now achieved Festivus, for the rest of us parenting teens. The ‘Seinfeld’ holiday includes the ‘airing of grievances’ during the Festivus meal where each person tells everyone else all the ways they have disappointed them over the past year. Among our three sons, this airing of grievances has surpassed the airing of gas to make your brother laugh.  I don't recall many sit-down meals in my family of four growing up, either because we ate meals on t.v. trays or the ridicule usurped positive memories. The responsibility of parenting dinner time discussion has proven equally challenging when ridicule is forbidden and plates are emptied faster than dog dishes. Over the past decade we've tried sharing highs and lows, emotions on the 'feelings wheel', compliments, and vocabulary games like 'Wild Words'.  Lately the sharing of highs and lows has turned into who can shar