They’re driving. They’re on the go. They’re independent and happy.
They’re driving. They’re on the go. They’re independent and happy.
My 17-year old sent this to me. It showed up in her Instagram feed. This sums up teen humor pretty well.
My 15-year-old daughter just got a job working at her sister’s place of employment: a Thai restaurant. She started to bus tables, learn the computer system, give patrons water and even take their orders and bring their food by the time she had 8 hours of work under her belt.
I was sure she would come home and say, “No thanks. I hated it.” It’s not easy to be on your feet for a few dollars. She’s a straight A student and focuses on her violin playing. She does not do menial chores at home proactively. But she’s seen her sister make money and be able to purchase whatever she wants at Target or eat out on occasion.
She came home after working 6 hours yesterday. She served tables alongside her older sister. Her feet hurt, but she had a huge smile on her face and showed me the $36 in tips she made.
Later, exhausted, she said:
“I like working, it feels good to make your own money.”
I did not think I’d like this show. But I’m hooked. Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle had a vision and made it come true – despite many obstacles. The title might refer to boys/men, but the show is ALL girl. Erskine and Konkle are Executive Producers, writers, actors and creators of the show. Check them out on Hulu.com.
Their story reminds me of Seth Godin’s quote:
“Don’t try to be the ‘next’. Instead, try to be the other, the changer, the new. “
My daughter’s boyfriend gave her a bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s Day. How sweet is that? I took a small portion and put it in a bud vase for painting. I liked how the dye colored the water.
Teaching your teenager how to drive is a thankless job. Don’t expect appreciation. Laugh off the frustration, anger and stress. It’s our job to teach them to drive well and safely. They have no idea how many new gray hairs have sprouted because they almost hit that car/curb/bicyclist. They have no idea how it feels (for the adult passenger) to be completely powerless as they hit the accelerator and then the brakes. They don’t know that they are steering a 4,000 lb weapon.
Just try to stay present and calm. Try. To. Be. Calm.
It will pay off!
Many years later, when Kevin was in his backyard with his children, his daughter Ava cried out, “Dad! Josie is cheating at Tag!”
Kevin said just one thing.
“Is that so?”
*Kevin the Complainer
I made the inner flowers go the wrong direction. Or…is it the outer petals that are incorrect? Either way, I find the end result interesting. It makes the outer petals look like thorns.
A funny quote from my 15-year-old daughter yesterday:
“Mom, I’m out of chocolates and I’m out of hot Cheetos. I’ve lost the will to live.”
I pack my daughters’ lunches on school days. Yes, they’re teenagers and could do it themselves and no, I’m not spoiling them. I do it because it really is a pleasure for me.
Monday, I packed chicken quesadillas. I used Costco shredded cheese. Literally, it says “Mexican Blend Cheese“:
Ava comes home and says, “The Mexican boys at my table saw my lunch and asked me why you use yellow cheese. I told them that I have a Korean mom.”
Tuesday, I packed garlicky pasta. Because I’m so nice and thoughtful, I taped a piece of gum on the thermos:
No comment from the peanut gallery teens.
Wednesday, I packed Korean sticky rice and threw in some dried seaweed. Ava says she wants to be more vegetarian, so I thought this was perfect.
She came home and said, “I got so much teasing over my Asian lunch.”
Thursday, I packed more Korean sticky rice and baked tilapia. But when I looked for small tupperware, I had none. I’ve decided to stop using plastic bags (you know, the ocean and all) and so I had to use the zipper pouches I wrote about before:
Yes, I put fish in a bag.
That afternoon, Ava comes home and sighs.
“Could you please pack lunches that won’t get me beat up*?”
*Obviously, she’s not really getting beat nor bullied.
My daughter told me a fellow classmate asked her what her last name was.
Ava: “My last name is Wipff”
Girl: “W-i–f-f?”
Ava: “No, W-i-p-f-f. P, as in pterodactyl or pseudonym.”