Tag: teenagers

Sneak Peek – Senior 2012

On By AngeliaIn In my heart forever & ever14 Comments

And this Senior happens to be my baby.

Sydney, Senior 2012

Oh my gah!!

I just want someone to tell me, how eighteen years goes by so fast? How is it possible?

This is it.

Her final year.

We are in the countdown and someone sped up the ticker. I don’t like that person.

In less than six months, she will turn eighteen and graduate.

She will be an adult (gulp!).

I swore I wouldn’t cry. I’m never swearing anything ever again.

I am the mom of Senior in High School.

In a very short time, she will be the same age I was when I packed my car and moved to Texas.

Still can’t believe I did that so young.

I know she is ready (in her own way). I know she is excited for the next part of her life.

Sydney, you have my heart and you sure make a momma proud.

Senior 2012!

Brownie Poo gets a new Doo

On By AngeliaIn A Puppy Named Brownie, Beautiful Life, FAMILY31 Comments

For all you Brownie Puppy fans…..(I know you all love my puppy, right?)…..well, she got a haircut this weekend.

Her FIRST haircut (awwwh!), I did not keep the first locks, don’t worry. I’m not that bad. Truth is, I just thought of it. Ha.

I was really worried about her being traumatized. I have tried to brush her a couple of times and let me tell you, she FREAKS out. I mean freak-a-zoid freaky freak out. Like the lambs are screaming scream. I burned that brush and she has been a furry chewbacca ever since. Until, we let a professional try.

She did fine, except for the hair dryer, according to the groomers, she screamed like a lamb. Okay I made that part up, but they did say she screamed.

I got home to see her – I was surprised. It was like meeting my four-month old baby Shih-Tzu for the first time. I could actually SEE her face. Oh my goodness! What big eyes you have….and an actual wittle face.

I couldn’t stop saying, “Hi, nice to meet you.” And I swear, she would look at me in that same way. It was darling.

I think she can see better now. It’s a whole new world.


She is just runway styling (and flowing) in her new doo. Move over Farrah.

Besides the exciting news of Brownie….we also went to a baseball game this weekend. I took my camera.

We sat in right field.

We had a good spot with a view of my favorite player.

Josh Hamilton made some amazing plays, which I mostly saw. Not so sure about these two (my daughter and her boyfriend).

Rangers win!

Does anyone else just loooove when they congratulate the other team? I get a little verklempt. Does that make me soft? Of course, that was little league. But I digress.

And then there were fireworks.

I really wanted to “try” to get a few pics. Night shots really need a tripod, and definitely a chair in-between the photographer and a bouncing leg in tune to the one-hit wonders playing with the show. I moved one chair over – no offense Jason – and it helped.

These were my favorite.


Love the spirals.

I only wish the little girls would have been with us (we did ask), but it wasn’t our weekend. They would have LOVED the fireworks set to music. The ballpark is absolutely the best place to watch them. I missed them a lot, because this was part of my birthday celebration. It was amazing and great, but just not the same as having their shining faces there too. And… I had no one to steal cotton candy from. Heh!

Jason does get the girls tonight until 7pm, I can’t wait til they “meet” the new Brownie Poo…who has a new doo.

Wonder if they will be as surprised as we were.

Grounded Again! A Story of Youth.

On By AngeliaIn Mama Kat's Writing Workshop, Mon Dieu! and all that stuff., School days25 Comments

Quite honestly, I was grounded often, and unfairly excessively as a teenager. I really felt like my parents got this sick joy from it [insert: evil laugh] because they grounded me with such relish.

Surely, it wasn’t because I would sneak out at night; take my stepdad’s car on a joyride, get caught driving my mom’s van to school, or steal liquor from their stash of Scotch Whiskey (all in my magical year of age thirteen). Nah!!

I did get caught at most of those things and more (eventually), but none compared to the grounding that occurred days after my sixteenth birthday.

My parents gave me a rockin’ car for my sweet day in August 87′. A 1984 Mercury Cougar; aka, the silver bullet. She was bewitching! I was in heaven – a teenagers dream – not only my own car, but a really nice one.

Their only rule? I could not pick up, nor see my boyfriend Mike, who they did not approve of. He was from the wrong side of the tracks and had bi-racial parents. Plus he was cute, charming, and corrupting; according to them. In other words, a normal teenage boy.

So I got my new car and I drove straight to his house to pick him up (of course!). We went to the car wash giving the silver bullet a blinding gleam. Then, as my parents wished, I took him home, advising him, he wasn’t allowed in my car. Sorry (thanks for the car wash), seeyalaterbye.

Next stop, the local swimming pool to see my friend Jason. He was a lifeguard. We were “just” friends. I took him for a ride (since HE was allowed) to all my girlfriend’s houses. We had a great time showing off my new wheels (and hot lifeguard), and I didn’t mind the new rule at all (heh).

I returned home, and there, waited MOTHER. By the look on her face, I was in big trouble and she knew. She knew!

Without a word, I was busted. I crumbled under her piercing gaze. I didn’t even bother trying to lie when she asked if Mike had been in my car. I admitted to my car wash guilt.

Grounded – again!

How she found out, I have no idea. Mike had only been in the car ten minutes and no one had seen us. It was not fair, after all, I had barely broken the rule *sniff*.

My punishment – six months restriction from my car. No driving whatsoever, not even to school for my Junior year. SIX MONTHS.

Even worse, as a High Schooler, I was required to ride the bus to school. Not that I couldn’t walk, or get a ride. I could have. The school was less than a mile from home and easily walkable. But no, this was part two of my punishment – riding the bus when I had a car in the driveway and a driver’s liscense in my wallet. The horror! I couldn’t even pretend I rode the bus, and not. My parents were drinking buddies best friends with the bus driver, who stopped by to report every night.

Talk about humiliating….that was the longest, hardest, most miserable six months of my life. Officially, it was only four months. For every room I cleaned spotless in the house, they minused off a day. It was brilliant child labor. Then I went to France for a month over Christmas. When I returned in January, they gave me the car back. I guess they felt sorry for me. Thank goodness!

The worse part of it all, was when I finally asked mom how she knew. She told me my girlfriend’s mom told her when she called her house looking for me. She had glanced outside seeing lifeguard Jason in the car, not boyfriend Mike, and mistakenly told her the wrong guy. Arrrrgh!!!

This post inspired by: Mama's Losin' ItI chose prompt number four: 4.) The craziest reason I ever got in trouble as a child.

Danger High School school zone ahead

On By AngeliaIn In the lives of children, Wee Wee Wee all the way home!42 Comments

This is not just a regular school zone with the blinking 20 miles per hour yellow lights. A caution to go the speed limit because children (big kids) are walking, crossing, and hip hopping to school. Alright strike the hip hop, teenagers are not morning people. Point is, it’s a school zone. Point is, that’s pretty much a requirement to slow down.

Unless…..you are a teen driver that is, then you see this.

Or maybe you are a mad mom in a mini-van, you’ve got three other kids to get to school, a PTA council coffee you are late for, and a nail appointment right after. SO GET OUT OF THE WAY, PEOPLE!

No matter what you are.

Know this. Take heed to my warning and take it very, very seriously. Driving in a High School school zone is hazardous to your health. They should have portable defibrillators in the parking lots.

First off, no one slows down to twenty. Not at this school anyway. No one comes to a complete stop before leaving the parking lot and turning on the street. Not even a California stop. It’s a straight up gas it and go while you peal out and these are the moms, not the teens.

No the teens like to run late to school (seniors), therefore when you wait in line patiently to turn into the one way side of the lot, they come screeching from the TURN lane, narrowly miss your front bumper as the car careens, on two wheels and air, to the parking spot in the visitors slot right in front of the school.

Casually, they stroll out of the car (while you are still sitting there mouth hanging open) with their Bon Jovi hair in a toss and skinny jeans.The nerve! They didn’t even look my way or wave an apology. Huh!

Heck, this is all happening just getting INTO the school. Then, as I wait in line to get to the right spot in front of the school. Never mind all the right spots I already passed. My daughter will NOT get out of the car at any other spot. Just this one spot. What’s so special about that spot? I don’t know! But rather than push her out of the car, I wait until I arrive at the magic spot and she exits the car. Hallelujah!

Now I have to get OUT of the lot. My palms are sweating. I grip the wheel and frantically look around for the mad moms switching lanes (in front of school with kids jumping in and out of cars). Hello? Escaping them, I pull up to the exit lane only to get cut off by the mad career moms coming from the super secret entrance on the other side. Racing to get out MY exit when they see the never-ending exit line for the lot they came from. I don’t know about you, but I tend to yield to a Jag.

One car after another, I get to the exit. I look both ways hoping for clear, so I can just shut my eyes and floor it before a speeder comes racing through the blinking yellow lights on one side, or a teen driver out of NO WHERE from the opposite side. Just when I think it’s okay, a big RAM truck blocks my view by pulling up next to me. Oh. Em. Gee.

Finally, I punch it out of the lot and get past the last turn of double line cars with angry teens and moms. I barely miss a teen jumping out of the car stopped in the STREET. I mean they didn’t want to wait in the car lines, I get it. But seriously, how safe is that? Then, the mom does an illegal u-turn on the street to go back the other direction, all this in a school zone. YIKES.

Anxious, heart suffering irregular beats, I FLOOR IT out of there, make the turn without signaling to the road that takes me to freedom. AWAY FROM THE HIGH SCHOOL. I can breathe easy. Shooooooooooooooooo.

As my mind clears, I always have the same thought. WHERE ARE THE POLICEMEN? Why do they not have their stun guns radar guns out?

Well, it’s kind of country here. Apparently the two patrolmen on duty have appointments in the morning. Not saying a word about that.

See, everyone knows you can speed, turn illegally, let your kids out in the middle of the street, and in general obey no traffic laws at that time of day, because no one will be there. But hey, they are just teenagers, riiight?

So can I just say, HOW GLAD I am, that on Friday. My non-driving Freshman, then Sophomore exited the car in the hazardous school zone for the LAST TIME. School is out. My drop off duty fulfilled. My health and nerves get a summer break. AND as long as she passes her driver’s license exam (pleasepasspleasepasspleasepass), I am hazard zone FREE! Oh, she is passing alright, we are going at 730am and guess what? I’m bringing donuts.

Good-bye cruel school (zone that is)! I won’t be missing you…..ever.