Boomerang generation...who me?

"Humor is... despair refusing to take itself seriously." ~Arland Ussher

Oh yes, 2011 was quite a kick in the pants. I think Life tends to throw you a few curve balls whenever it sees you getting too cocky. And apparently I was getting a little cocky because I've had more curve balls the last couple years than a major league baseball game. But this blog is not a woe-is-me entry....because I have my health and my kids' health and ultimately that makes me wealthier than a lot of people.
But after the divorce last year I found myself in a really bad financial spot. My parents were wonderful enough to step forward and offer a solution:
"Why don't you move back in with us for awhile?  You know, until you get back on your feet again."
At first, I vehemently opposed it. "What?! I'm 41 years old. I have a full time job. I should be able to figure this out myself."
My dad told me to just think about it. Then a few days later he casually mentioned, "You know, I'm sure if you chipped in for groceries your mother would make a lot of the meals."
My ears perked up. Now that sounded like a possibility.
So right around Thanksgiving I packed up my belongings, my four kids and my dog....and moved back into my childhood home.
My dad had spent weeks getting their house ready. He made the downstairs a regular little girls dormitory, with bunk beds and storage and reading lights. At first I told him not to bother. "Dad, they can have my old room. I'll just sleep on the couch."
"Oh no," he said, shaking his head. "You need your own place that's just yours."
I smiled and couldn't resist asking, "Well....what if I meet someone and want to have a sleepover date?"
He replied calmly, "Your mother and I are hoping that you would have a sleepover at his house."
"But Dad....what if I meet someone and he lives with HIS parents?"
I swear I saw my father's shoulders slump. He just gave me a look that I interpreted as, "Aim higher. Please."
At first I was embarrassed to tell people I moved back in with my parents. I felt like I had failed somehow at one of life's basic tasks. Amazingly though... my friends and co-workers have been incredibly supportive. "There's something to be said about multi-generational living," more than one person told me.
And it's true. In addition to being able to breathe a financial sigh of relief for the first time since I can remember, I'm getting to know my parents again on a whole different, adult level.
My parents do not even have basic cable, so my nightly television viewing choices no longer include "Real Housewives of New Jersey," "Intervention," or anything else on A&E.
Let's just say I've been watching a lot of "Antiques Roadshow" and "Cash Cab."
Last week my dad changed my oil, and unbeknownst to me, filled up my gas tank too.
"Hey Dad, thanks for filling up my tank. You know," I teased. "You keep this up and I'm never going to leave."
"See," he told me. "That's why I fill it up. So you will leave. But you just keep coming back."
My dad is such a kidder.
I think.
So I'm going to make the most of this time given to me. Financially I'm going to get back on my feet and build up a little nest egg so I feel more secure when I eventually do move back out. Hopefully this is sooner rather than later.
I've been enjoying it more than I thought. My mom and I have been having a great time. We both love good movies, chips and Tylenol PM.
And yes, I have discovered ways to find a lot of humor in this unexpected situation. I was dating a guy, just briefly for a few weeks, when I decided to end it. I sent him a text basically saying we wanted different things, but I thought he was wonderful and wished him the best, etc.
He responded back with a curt: "Fine, whatever....BYE."
Then he sent another angry response within a few seconds: "Well, you still live with your PARENTS!"
I couldn't help but throw back my head and laugh.
Why yes, yes I do.

9th Grade Health Class...am I ready for this?

"A birth control pill for men, that's fair.  It makes more sense to take the bullets out of the gun than to wear a bulletproof vest."  ~Author Unknown

A couple days ago my 14 year old daughter told me that a public health nurse came to their 9th grade health class. "She told us about the 15 methods of birth control available."
Wait, what?
There are 15 methods of birth control available?
That's amazing to me. When I was in high school we had the Holy Trinity of birth control:
The Pill
Condoms
And the Pull & Pray method (also affectionately known as Catholic Roulette)
I think our mothers had IUDs, but no one our age even really knew what an IUD was.
Nowadays there are more options for birth control than ever before.
When I was 15 a few of us decided to go on the Pill. Now keep in mind, there was absolutely no reason for me to go on birth control at that time...I'm not even sure I had let a boy get to second base by then. But it didn't matter... my friends were going to do it so I did, too.
Since my mom was a nurse at the River Falls Medical Clinic, I knew I had to go somewhere else. My friends and I decided to go to a clinic in Hastings, Minnesota. We had our exams and then walked out of there with a 12 month prescription for the pill.
One year later, my prescription was done. The pharmacist told me that he could no longer give me anymore until I had another prescription from my doctor. I shrugged, because truthfully it didn't matter if my prescription ran out. I had absolutely no use to be on the pill. The novelty had worn off.
And then, for reasons still unknown, that pharmacist decided to call my doctor to let him know that my prescription was done. Only he didn't call my doctor in Hastings, Minnesota. He got confused and called the River Falls Medical Clinic instead. He got a nurse on the phone and announced, "I'm calling about Vanessa Simonet's birth control prescription."
Yep, you guessed it. My mom was that nurse.
Talk about busted.
I'm fairly certain that pharmacist would be in gross violation of some HIPAA policy now, but back then it was just an unfortunate circumstance.
With one daughter in high school already, this birth control issue is coming up faster than I thought it would. It doesn't seem like that long ago that I was picking out Barney pajamas for her. Now the choices are much more complicated. And the possible ramifications are a lot more serious.
This parenting thing is so tough. I wish someone would clue me in on the perfect balance of helping your teenager make mature decisions and also enforcing expectations and boundaries with them.
This fall my 14 year old and I were hiking and I told her, "I promise I'll take you to go on the Pill when you want, but you have to promise me you'll still be smart about things and always use condoms, too."
She rolled her eyes and walked ahead of me. "Mom! You've been saying that for as long as I can remember. I told you I would."
I hurried to catch up. "That's good, honey. Because you know what they say... you gotta wrap it before you tap it. You gotta cover your stump before you hump."
She looked at me, horrified. "Stop it!"
Yes! Score one for Mom Mortification.
So I will do my best to keep the doors of communication open with my children. I will hope and pray that they will come to me with questions and more. I honestly don't know how I'll react when they do, because in my mind they're always be the sweet little toddler sitting on my lap.
And I promise...if they're mature enough to come to me for assistance...I'll try to be mature, too and do everything in my power to NOT leave them a note that says "It'll be sweeter if he wraps his peter."

Life Lessons Volume 1

"My Mama always said you've got to put the past behind you before you can move on." Forrest Gump


I'll never be the type of mother who will be able to leave to her children vast wealth, a huge inheritance or an immense jewelry collection. Nor will I ever be able to pass on patent-creating knowledge or information. I will, however, be able to share with them some lessons of life I've learned along the way. Nothing earth-shattering, nothing life-changing....just some tidbits that will hopefully save you some heartache and dirty underwear.

Make sure you learn to drive a stick shift. Not only may it save your life some day, but you look cool shifting gears. It helps to have a song in your head, too. I used to imagine myself in a Great White video while driving down the highway. With a Big Gulp in my lap.

When wearing a white blouse, make sure to always wear a beige bra underneath. Preferably something with a decent lining, too. The women in our family have nipples that like to announce themselves. A lot.

When it comes to choosing a career, follow your heart. Don't major in business because you think you should. Business majors are a dime a dozen and you'll end up having to take a statistics course.

Starting your working career means you'll most likely have to start with a job that requires you to wear a polyester uniform and a hair net.

If one of your grandparents start to tell you a story of when they were little, LISTEN. You might not get a chance to hear it again. Besides, they might also give you a butterscotch hard candy to suck on and a stack of Readers Digest to bring home.

Do not ever allow yourself to take Tylenol PM and Dulcolax within a couple hours of each other. I cannot be more serious about this one. It's never, ever a good idea.

Never charge whiskey or gasoline to a credit card; by the time the bill comes they've both been pissed away.

If some one's online dating profile says they're an entrepreneur, you can expect that to mean they live in some one's basement and most likely have a criminal record of some sort.

When on a first date, see how much they tip. If they short change the server, it can be a good indicator of how they treat others.

When you have that dreadful stomach virus and you're running to the bathroom, not sure which end it's going to come out of.... always, always SIT. Trust me on this one. Please.

If you get a chance to study abroad or travel overseas, by all means DO IT. Don't be afraid of what you might miss at home - I assure you the cows will still be here. Be more afraid of what you might miss OUT THERE.

People enjoy being with you because of how you make them feel. So when you smile, smile with your whole face. And not the lame-ass version, either. Smile so your teeth show and your eyes crinkle up.

When someone makes something for you - whether it's a scarf or a drawing or a home cooked meal - recognize that it's a gift from their heart. I know my children have a hard time believing that beef stroganoff is a loving gift, but I want them to know to be gracious when people cook for them. Because the older you get, the less it happens.

This list is not all-encompassing. That's why it's Volume 1. It's something I intend on adding on throughout the years.
And that's part of the fun of the unknown, isn't it? Who knows what sort of shenanigans are in store for us, that will cause us to have to write down a "Life Lesson" about it?
I can hardly wait!

Bring on the fear!

"Do one thing every day that scares you." ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Since one of my resolutions this year is to do at least two scary/crazy activities with my dad, I should really start thinking of what I want to do.
We did our annual ice dive into Lake Minnetonka on New Years Day. That's pretty crazy, I think. And it almost didn't even happen.
After a long and booze filled evening bringing in the New Year, I showed up at 7:15 am. My mom ended up crawling back into bed, so it was just me and my dad in the kitchen.
"I don't really wanna do it," I told him. "It's too cold and I'm extremely hungover."
"Oh c'mon," he admonished me. "You already paid your registration fee online last night."
I rested my head on my arms, on the counter. "I'll just write it off as a donation."
I tried to close my eyes, hoping Dad would take the hint and go back to bed with Mom. Oh no...he brought out the big guns instead.
While my eyes were still closed, he rattled a prescription bottle. "There's a Vicodin in here for you. C'mon, girl, you can do it...yes you can...good girl."
I sat up and smiled. "Gimme 5 minutes."
Not too much longer we were on the road. He was driving, because I wasn't even sure I should be behind the wheel. At one point I let out a huge belch.
"Good god, Vanessa," Dad said, waving the air in front of his face. "What were you drinking last night?"
I thought for a moment. "I think a more appropriate question would be, what didn't I drink last night? There were shots, and champagne..."
A few more times that morning I would breathe in his face and I think his eyes almost watered. "Seriously," he told me. "I could probably light a match in front of your mouth."
Fast forward about 45 minutes and there we were, standing on a makeshift stage on Lake Minnetonka, getting ready to dive into the water. As I do every year, I started to panic. And get angry.
"I'm not doing this ever again!" I told my dad. "I mean it. Don't even ask me because I will say no. This is bullshit. I hate this!" I was ready to start crying. Then the announcer did the countdown and in the water we went. I give him the same speech every year.
After we warmed up and were heading back to the car, I said, "Hey, Dad... where's that Vicodin? I wasn't messin' around when I said I wanted one."
As we were driving back to River Falls, I mentioned that I had done one scary thing with him, and that meant I only had one more to do to fulfill my resolution. "Yeah, but that doesn't count what we just did," he told me. "We already had it planned."
"Oh yes it does!" I turned to him and said, not caring if the booze on my breath would make him drive into the ditch. "You can't make up rules for my resolutions!"
He was quiet for a minute. "What about skydiving?"
I shuddered. "No way. I don't want to do anything that causes a fear of death. Or could result in my teeth breaking."
He said, "Well if you want to do something scary we could take a math class together."
I laughed. "I would rather jump out of a plane than take a math class."
So now I have 11 1/2 more months to plan another scary thing. I suppose I could count the Polar Plunge in White Bear Lake next month as another one, but I've done that and it's not nearly as freaky as the Ice Dive in Lake Minnetonka. I have no idea what my scary thing will be, but it will be a good adrenaline boost, that's for sure.
One of my friends has a wall of photos that she's called: "Crazy Shit Vanessa Makes Me Do." There are pictures of her doing the Ice Dive and of us participating in the Breast Cancer 3 Day walk (where we walk 60 miles in 3 days to raise money for breast cancer research). Talk about a love affair with Vicodin on that walk...
So now I need to think about what I can do that's crazy. And coming from my family, that's a high bar to reach. My family is the example of extreme athletes. Not me. It's like that song from Sesame Street: "One of these things is not like the other...."
But this year, I'll show them.
2012 is going to be a year of adrenaline producing events.
I just don't want to end up like this poor little egg...