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Monday, October 19, 2009

15, there's still time for you . . .

My 14-year-old daughter suddenly turned into my 15-year-old daughter.  

It literally happened overnight--last night, actually--and we spent the better part of the Fall break in jolly ole' St. George celebrating the occasion with her and Rue 21. 

My hub and I made it perfectly clear that it was her weekend and she could do whatever she wanted. 

She only wanted one thing--to eat pork salad at Costa Vida, so we took her to Bajios because, same dif, right? 

Wrong! Whatever you do, DON'T eat at Bajios in St. George whether or not it's your daughter's 15th birthday or not, unless you don't mind watching the workers blink and shrug at the missing pork and the missing trays and the burning quesadillas as they go through the swinging doors, in and out, back and forth, to do whatever it is they do back there thats make them blink and shrug themselves silly like that.

A better place to eat would be Brick Oven, especially if you want to see you daughter turn bright red when all the cute waiters keep checking her out and bringing her free chocolate mousse and singing and clapping at her in spirited birthday fashion. 

I wonder if having a 15-year-old daughter will be any different than having a 14-year-old daughter? 



Do 15-year-old daughter's laugh and point at their mom's when they go shopping and tell them their head looks hilarious in hats?  Do they tell their mom's that their cute jokes are so not funny and the southwest bean soup they are slaving over looks disgusting?

I hope not. 

Mom's are people too.

Do 15-year-old daughters roll their eyes when you say, "Hey, for your birthday, let's have a party or go get a pedicure, or your ears pierced, or a nose ring, or a tattoo that says smile and be happy?" 

Do they put pillows over their ears when you're listening to The Beatles at 95 mph on a Sunday afternoon, or say "This is a looooong song," after listening to The Beach Boys for twenty minutes?

I hope not.  

The Beach Boys are people too, too! 

Someone should totally write a song for my daughter about how when you're 15, you're caught in between 10 and 20.  

Never a wish better than this, right?

I would do it but I would probably get too sentimental and start singing about how being caught in between 10 and 15 is way easier than being caught in between labor and delivery.  

Then I would probably go off about the day I became a member of the big girlz club when my water broke at Kentucky Fried Chicken in White Plains New York and my hub shoved me into our Ford Escort and raced me to the hospital. 

"This isn't that bad," I told my mom, who was there to help us usher in our little princess.
"I definitely won't need the epidural. Especially now that I know how to breathe through the pain." 

I forgot to knock on wood, so shortly after that I began to feel like a Mack truck was tap dancing across my belly.  

Shortly after that I drop kicked my the Little Miss Mary Sunshine nurse every time she told me to Hee Hee Haw, and punched my silly goose mom every time she said "This too shall pass!" 

Shortly after that I told my doctor I would give him a million dollars if he would just PALEASE shove that ginormous, holy honkin' needle into my spine, PRONTO! 

He agreed, if I didn't mind holding off for 12 more hours until I was sufficiently dilated.  

If only I had been sufficiently dilated I would not have had to wake up so early this morning and stumble through the cold and the dark to start the fire and the music and the French toast for my fifteen-year-old daughter's birthday. I would have done all that yesterday, on the 18th.  But as it were, I wasn't sufficiently dilated until the 19th and had to labor all night long without the help of the holy honkin' needle, until finally my first born arrived into the world to make sure I never wear hats or make southwestern bean soup or listen to The Beatles at 95 mph. 


Do I really look THAT bad in a hat?


I look better than my son, right?

Or at least I did before we moved.



Moving really cramped my style.


Anyways, Happy Anniversary to me for getting through my first labor and delivery.  

Oh, and Happy Birthday to my daughter's hoity toity English teacher, Mariko.  Her mom got through labor and delivery on this day too.  Oh, and my x-door neighbor, Martha got through labor and delivery with her twins on this day too.  And my gigi got through labor with my aunt Carol on this day too.  

Happy Anniversary/Birthday to all!

But mostly to my one and only daughter--the apple in my pie.  



She will always be my little girl.

And she will always make me smile and be happy.







17 comments:

I am LoW said...

Happy Birthday ALL!!

I am LoW said...

Oh. And.... yes, 15 is lots like 14.

Heidi said...

Those pictures she drew are so darn stinkin' sweet! Hawaii style. Glad to know your 15 year old daughter is a lot like my almost 15 year old daughter, esp when it comes to the music (except that mine loves the Beatles--I got lucky there).

Nutty Hamster Chick said...

My fifteen year old son asks me to stop breathing. I think he means so loudly, not that he wants me to suffocate. At least most of the time he is glad I am still alive. But he doesn't like it when I sing to the radio.

Happy Birthday to you daugher.

springrose said...

I am scared for my almost 9 year old to turn in to a teenager now!! She will think everything I do is dorky if your daughter thinks things you do are dorky!! Happy Birthday to her anyway!! Some of those pictures could pass as art in a museum!!

Martha said...

Happy Birthday T. I wrote it on her facebook too. She was such a cute little pumpkin and of course she still is. Now you just have to worry about keeping the boys away.

Ok, so Josh approved of the firefly song and I made his slide show thing using it. It turned out nice, but I may change it around before tomorrow.

I gotta go home and make peanut butter balls and take them to Jim and Nan's class for their birthday. Too bad T is too old for you to take cupcakes to her class. (I actually made cupcakes for Josh last month and made him take them to his seminary class). He didn't really want to, but too bad.

Anjeny said...

Hmmm...you got nothing to worry about there, the worry comes when she started suggesting going out on outtings with you just so she can point her finger at you and make fun of how taller she is than you, that is if she is taller than you. And then of course, she'll start pointing out the fact that when you have to scold her, you need to sit her down so she'll be looking up at you instead of DOWN at you..LOL.

Happy birthday, T. Those are some beautiful artworks you got there...and oh what an beautifully adorable little girl.

Martha said...

You're so good to keep all her artwork.

Oh, guess what. Coach Chun doesn't want to teach her intermediate tennis class for Winter so she's giving it to me! I'm glad cuz I love it and I love the extra money. So I asked Wanza what I had to do to get my picture on the wall near the EXS office and she said that she would put it up. That means I am in!

Alyson | New England Living said...

Awww, what a great daughter she is to point out all those things so you don't have to be in the dark. I've got one of those too.

LOVE her art! She's a creative genius just like her mom.

Barbaloot said...

Happy Birthday to her!!! Hope she has a great day, and hope you do too. And I can't believe she doesn't want to go get tattoos with you.

OldBoatGuy said...

Our 15 year old daughter was a good, polite, respectful child. But the boys hunched down in the back seat when they went someplace with their mother. I threatened to glue their hair to the coat hooks.

Happy birthday to your little Crash.

PS is her name DESSI?

TisforTonya said...

Happy Birthday to all those people - I'm looking forward to my 14 year old son hitting that benchmark because of course that will mean we'll be past all the arguments and teenage angst right?

(shut up, don't answer that - I'm happy in my own little fantasy world right now!)

Mamafamilias said...

Yay!! Today's my granddaughter's 4th birthday. And she calls me GiGi too. I really think we must be soul sistah's for sure now, all the signs are pointing to it. And yes, I did have to remind my son-in-law while we were out for the birthday supper, that the next 10 years will fly by and she will be a real, live honest-to-goodness 14-year old. (She already refers to one of the boys in her pre-school class as The Handsome Boy).

Happy to all!

Sandi said...

Alyson is right, your precious little teenage daughter is just doing what is best for you, whether or not it hurts your feelings or makes you feel like a big fat dork with no sense of style or sense of anything. It is for your own good. Trust me, I have lived through FOUR 15 year old daughters. So far they have all turned out ok, the trick is to not kill them before they get there. haha. Happy Happy Birthday to the beautiful Crash Jr. :)

Sandi said...

p.s. RIP hats....and YES you do look better than your son..ha ha.

Just SO said...

Happy 15th to the apple in your pie!

Mariko said...

I love that I have pictures of my daughter in Hawaii. I'm sure you feel the same way.

Happy birthday to US! I love that we have the same birthday. It makes me cool by association.