Blended

I Told You So

I have a 12-Year-Old.  I think that should be a badge that parents of preteen boys should get to wear to explain their behavior: pulling out their hair, talking to themselves on the street, drinking Pina Coladas at noon…

This is especially true on vacation.  We are currently spending a month at my parents’ house in Boston.  Last week I took my 12-Year-Old (and his siblings) to New York City to visit Manhattan Sister and her husband who live there.  By the time we left, I felt like Debbie Reynolds on Will and Grace  doing the "I Told You So Dance."

  

Before we left Boston, I asked my 12-Year-Old to pack himself a hat and a sweatshirt.  As we prepared to head out for our first Manhattan adventure, he complained that he was cold and wished he had long-sleeves.  “Well, go back inside and get your sweatshirt,” I directed.  “I left it at home.”  “Didn’t I tell you to pack a sweatshirt, or else you would be cold in the morning?” [Insert 12-Year-Old Shrug and Whatever-Face here.  Moms of 12-Year-Olds, you know what I’m talking about.] 

I bit my tongue.  I took a deep breath.  I counted to ten.  I didn’t say it.

But I thought it:

I told you so.

As we walked out into the Upper-West Side, I suggested to my 12-Year-Old that it would be a good idea to leave his ipod Touch in his pocket, since he had ignored my previous suggestion to leave the thing at home.  I was worried that something would happen to it if he kept taking it out in the city.  Around noon, he accidentally dropped it on Columbus Avenue and shattered the screen.

I told you so.

Later that afternoon, the New York sun was beating down on us as we wandered through a street fair munching hot pretzels and hot dogs, looking at knock-off purses and sundresses.  My 12-Year-Old pointed at a baseball cap display.  “I’m really hot, mom.  I wish I had a hat.”  “Didn’t you pack one like I said?”  [Shrug.  Face]

I told you so.

Somewhere in the middle of the day, my 12-Year-Old’s phone battery ran out.  “Why did it run out so early today?” I asked.  “Because I left my charger at home so I didn’t charge it last night.”  “Didn’t I tell you to pack that?”

I told you so. Told you so.  Told you, told you, told you so.

At Pier 25 my 12-Year-Old thought he was too old for the playground, so he decided to climb over walls instead.  “Look out!  If you keep doing that you’re going to…”

 I…told you so.

By the time we were ready to head back to the apartment for the evening, my son had a stomachache (I told you not to eat so many pretzels) and a sunburn (I told you to put sunscreen on your ears).  As we walked down into the subway to catch the train, he was jumping around and sliding on the banister.  “If you keep messing around then…” I fell down the last three steps and landed on my ass.  Maybe I should tell myself to pay attention on the steps too.

My 12-Year-Old and my brother-in-law could not contain their laughter.  Okay.  That was funny, but I’m still right.

As we returned to the lobby of Manhattan Sister's apartment, my 12-Year-Old, who knows how we feel about responsibility and listening to directions, asked a very poorly timed question.

“Hey Mom, you know how 14 year olds can have a driver’s license in South Dakota? “

“Yes…I’m aware of this…”

“Well, then in two years, which car do I get?”

See?  The badge would’ve been really helpful at that moment.  If everyone in the lobby KNEW I had a 12-Year-Old, then they wouldn’t have looked at me so funny when I completely lost my mind!

I told you so.

 

 © Jody Hoffman 2011

 

Home or Away?

*Facebook 3/9/11 – Hey Boston!  Remember Me?

Bill and I met through ridiculous circumstances and ended up spending a year and a half flying back and forth between Boston and South Dakota to see each other in what I refer to as our Extreme Long Distance Relationship.  It isn’t that the distance is so bad – less than 3 hours to Minneapolis, then a half hour layover during which we always picked up chocolate covered gummy bears, then a quick hour flight on a plane so small it would fit in Sam’s Backpack – but the logistics.  In order to see each other, we had to figure out a weekend when neither of us had our kids, decide East Coast or Midwest, or some other crazy place, and then make sure there weren’t any snowstorms or emergency room visits in the way.  So, I have made the trip from South Dakota back to Boston 11 times, each time sad to be leaving this person I loved. 

 

Last week, the Aberdeen to Boston portion of my trip was the beginning, not the end.  Bill drove me to our tiny little airport.  Our airport (town!) is so small that Bill leaves his pick-up running outside right at the airport door when he brings me inside.  Our airport is so small that we only have three flights a day, all to Minneapolis, and the planes have propellers on them!  Also the whole airport shuts down between planes.  I said goodbye to Bill at Gate 1A, (Why is the gate called 1A when there is only one?  It should just be THE gate.) and flew back to my hometown.  It was the first time I’d been back since I drove away last June.  My sister was turning 30 and my mom was planning a big party for her.  I hadn’t realized how it would feel to take this trip in the opposite direction, or how it would feel to be kid-free for so long.  (My own kids were away for 10 days and Bill’s were having some “Daddy time” as well.) 

*Facebook 3/10/11: Dear Lady In Front of Me at Security in the Airport:  Your kids are driving everyone nuts. Please commence parenting at anytime now. Sincerely, Everyone Getting on this Plane. P.S. Nee ner nee ner nee ner (from the lady traveling kid free)

As I flew across the country and navigated through the Minneapolis airport, it struck me how different this felt.  I am still at that point where being away from my new husband for a weekend feels like too long (although I’m told this does not last forever…) and at the same time, I haven’t been “home” to Boston since we drove away last June and quite frankly, I miss my mom! 

*Facebook 3/11/11: At the baggage claim at Logan, some lady asked if I was visiting Boston or coming home. She thought "I have no idea" was a weird answer.

As soon as I arrived at my parents’ house I realized that my mom had done way more of the party planning than I had expected.  There was nothing left for me to do!  So…I shopped.  And had my nails done.  And called to find out that my old hairdresser had an opening for me!  All these little things that I had missed in my new “small town life.”  

*Facebook 3/11/11: Gap, Ann Taylor, Express...look out, Bill, I'm unsupervised in a real mall.

*Facebook 3/12/11: Coffee with a good friend at a REAL Starbucks, haircut at my old favorite salon, driving daddy's cool Volvo sports car (which doesn't seat 8 and could be parked in my SUV's trunk)...I could get used to this! (Kids? What kids?)

*Facebook 3/12/11: Has returned to the mothership...pedicure massaging chair.

On the way back home to South Dakota, I contemplated an interesting absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder phenomenon.  Chomping on the chocolate covered gummy bears that I bought for Bill but ate before I got to him, I made the following lists:

Things in Boston I didn’t realize how much I had missed until I had them back:

                  A real mall with escalators and a GAP

                 A Mani-Pedi place with massaging pedicure chairs

                  Starbucks

                  My parents

                  My sister

                  Always knowing exactly how to get where I’m going.

Things in Aberdeen I didn’t realize how much I appreciate until I left them:

                  My own bed

                  No Traffic

                  Bill

Things I didn’t miss:

                  4 feet of snow

                  Dogs barking at 5:30am

I’m sure that I will make the trip back to Boston frequently, both alone and with all the kids and Bill.  I’m not sure, however, that I will ever be able to answer the baggage claim lady’s question.  I’m home and away.  I’m visiting home.  Deal with it.

 © Jody Hoffman 2011