Dating advice for my daughters...

"Watching your daughter being collected by her date feels like handing over a million dollar Stradivarius to a gorilla." ~ Jim Bishop

About a month ago I was sound asleep in my bed when the bedroom door flew open. I struggled to open my eyes against the light from the hallway. I could make out the outline of one of my teen daughters.
I sat up. "What's going on?"
Middle of the night interruptions usually can be lumped into a few categories for parents with children: Someone has either puked, wet the bed or had a bad dream.
In this case, it was new territory: my daughter was going through the double whammy of not only one of her first broken hearts, but also the betrayal of a former friend.
My daughter knelt down by the side of my bed and between sobs, told me what happened. I felt so bad for her. I struggled with not only the correct words I should be saying, but also with what I should not be saying as well.
I had a feeling that if I told her, "Boys are like buses, a new one comes along every 15 minutes..." it would not go over well.
After a few minutes she moved closer to my bed and laid her head down next to me. In between her spilling out her story between tears, she took deep breaths and closed her eyes.
I, on the other hand, was as tense as a hunter in the woods on opening day.
Because right in front of me I had something as rare as a wild animal rarely seen by regular people: a heartbroken teenage daughter coming to her mother for advice.
I rubbed her back slowly, careful not to spook her lest she growl, bare her teeth and slink back into the woods.
At that moment my son sat up next to me in bed, "Could you two please be quiet? I'm trying to sleep and all this crying and talking is hurting my ears."
I turned to him in amazement. I didn't even know he had crawled into bed with me. "How long have you been here?" He muttered something in reply and fell right back asleep.
My daughter stood up. "I'm going back to bed, too. Thanks Mom. I love you."
And with that, the wild animal went back to her den, licking her wounds.
I lay there wondering if I said what I should... Did I give her the right advice? Did I say the right things, or most importantly - did I bite my tongue and hold back things I really wanted to say but didn't?
This dating navigation is tricky. But here's the beauty of dating in your 40s compared to your teen years or 20s - your self confidence is way higher and the jokers you run into on some dates don't last nearly as long.
So to my beautiful, kind and loving daughters, let me offer you some advice based on dates I have had this last year. May it save you some heartache, angst and stress:

~ Avoid men who classify either all their ex-girlfriends or ex-wives as psycho. Those women can't possibly all be nuts. The common denominator is usually him. And usually by the third date this will be revealed.

~ Dating a guy with tattoos is fine. However, if you notice "Lock" and "Load" tattooed across his fingers so they're displayed when he's making a fist, it usually indicates he loves his guns. Especially when he brags about his conceal and carry permit. Bad boys can be intoxicating, but they tend to make more bad choices than you realize.

~ Remember, the opposite of love is not hate. It's apathy. So if the guy is constantly bitching about how much he can't stand his ex, it usually means he's not completely over her yet.

~ Never underestimate the importance of your beau knowing the value of hard work. If they are continually bemoaning working for "the man" or in-between jobs, then you are going to be paying for a lot of the dates yourself.

~ If your date says he's an entrepreneur, that means he is usually between jobs quite a bit.

~ If your date says he's a personal trainer, it usually means he offers unsolicited advice to others at his gym. He most likely annoys a lot of people.

~ Recognize the importance of your date asking questions about you and wanting to know about you. It shouldn't be all about him. He should be just as interested in learning about what makes you tick as you are about him.

~ Remember that texting should not replace actual conversations. I know that's a hard concept to fathom in your generation, but I recently wasted ten minutes trying to figure out that one text I received 'WYD'? actually meant "What're you doing?" At least I hope it meant that and not WHAT you doin'? Dear god, that's a whole separate grammar issue then...

~ And finally, based on a date I had last night: If your date shows up drunk, and on a bicycle, cut your losses and head home early.

Mom, just write a check...

"The easiest way for your children to learn about money is for you not to have any." - Katharine Whitehorn

I like to compare back to school shopping to getting a pap smear.

It's once a year.

You tend to get all worked up and begin to dread it.

Once it's done, you want to breathe a sigh of relief and high five someone.

And it's not like either back to school shopping or getting the speculum special is unbearable. It's just that there are so many other things you'd prefer to spend your time and money on.

The thing is, I remember how exciting it was to go back to school shopping. It was the highlight of every August. I don't remember my mom ever making me feel guilty for getting clothes for the new school year. Although in retrospect, we bought our jeans at Fleet Farm and the majority of our shirts at Target. I can remember a few things I wanted as I got older that I absolutely had to get:

Lee pinstripe baggies...

Shirts with the collars that stood up...

Kangaroo shoes with the pouch on the side...

Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers to put in my back jean pocket. But of course I had to leave room for the pick in my back pocket so I could faithfully comb out my perm between classes.

Now my kids would light their hair on fire in protest if I told them we were going to Fleet Farm to get jeans. They would shove pencils in their eyeballs if they had to pick out their shoes next to the saddle soap.
Actually, my 8 year old son probably wouldn't mind. If he could find an Angry Birds t-shirt he'd be fine.
This year, I think we all did a pretty good job of combining teen fashion with economic sense. All I have to say is thank god for Gordman's and Plato's Closet. We did head to the mall for a couple things, and I started to get sweaty and anxious in the store Hot Topic. Not because of the blaring music and heavily pierced, tattooed and punk looking sales people, but because the t-shirt my 13 year old wanted was $20.
"Seriously?" I asked her. "It's a t-shirt. And they want $20?"
"Mom," she pleaded. "It's for Pierce the Veil...my favorite band." 
I racked my brain, trying to remember if I could find a reference for the name of that band. I had a feeling it had to refer to piercing certain female body parts, but I wasn't sure.
After that we strolled into Spencer's. Within a few minutes I wanted to leave. Nothing like standing next to your two teen daughters in front of a poster advocating legalized drug use, next to an inflatable penis for bachlelorette parties. Before we left, my 13 year old asked for a multi colored rubber bracelet.
"Look Mom, it's not even $5."
"Yeah," I told her. "But why is it all rainbow striped? I think that has something to do with blow jobs."
My daughter rolled her eyes and the 20 something sales clerk behind the counter laughed.
"Like maybe 10 years ago," he said. "But not in any recent times."
I narrowed my eyes at him and whispered angrily in my thoughts, Shut it.
We got home and I began to write out what I'd spent over the last few days and what was coming up:
Martial arts tuition
Dance class tuition
School pictures
Ick. It made me sweaty just thinking about it.
A few days ago my 10 year old daughter called me during the day. She was so excited she could barely talk. "Mom, I just got a letter from some organization inviting me to come study in France next summer!"
I didn't want to burst her exuberant bubble, but I wanted her to realize it wasn't going to happen.
"Honey, they send those letters out to a lot of students and those trips cost a lot of money."
"Well, they must want ME because they sent a letter right to the house!"
I sighed. "If I'm not mistaken, they also sent a letter to your grandpa and asked him to come study in Japan, so I'm pretty sure their database isn't exact. And like I said, it costs a lot of money."
Chloe pressed on. "Grandma said it's only a few thousand and I read all the student reviews and everyone said it's worth the costs."
Of course they did.
I tried telling Chloe that this was going to be an expensive year for the family:
8th grade trip to DC
Confirmation trip to Boston
Class ring
Drivers Ed
The list goes on and on.
And whenever I try to explain to the kids just how spendy everything is and how much it adds up, it never fails - I always hear "Well, can't you just write a check? Let's go to the bank and get more money!"
Ahhh...if only it were that simple. That's about as likely as me going an entire day without an eye roll from one of my kids.
Please...ain't gonna happen.