Life As I Know It Is Over

Did you feel the shift in the balance today?

I certainly did.

Life changed today.

It will never be the same.

Today two girlies turned thirteen.

Today I officially have three teenagers in my life.

Today, The Bickersons have joined their older sister in that transition period of life from child to young adult.

Today, instead of one package of raging adolescent hormones, I have three.

Three girlies that stand tall and beautiful, with intelligence and talent, that will - with the flip of an inner switch that no one can see, no one can control - without warning, mutate before my very eyes into a raging, weeping, screeching, foot stomping, chest heaving creature of warped defiance.

Then, just as suddenly, the mutation resolves and the transformation back into the sweet and lovely girlies that have been the light of my life and delight of my soul.

Yep ... It's happened. Life has marched on and now I am living in the danger zone. I have increased my whiplash insurance and purchased stock in my favorite haircolor . I have purchased mass quantities of migraine relief and stocked up the first aid kit with antiseptic and gauze, not to mention bandaids. I have also stocked up on various assortments of chocolates, including various types of brownies and ice cream, and made the aquaintace of a friendly bail bondsman.

Other than continual praying for an increase in my patience level, I don't know of anything else I can actually add to my survival kit.

I'd like to believe that weathering the coming years will be a breeze, however I have this fear that niggles in the back of my mind.

I keep hearing my mother's voice.

"I hope you have a teenage girl JUST LIKE YOU!"

The voice vibrates in triplicate.

Could someone please pass the paper bag? I feel the need to hyperventilate.

Holey Moley! It's A Supernatural Thursday!

This morning I got up a bit extra early. (I have no clue as to why) I've been doing laundry and I'm thinking about holes and decided to write about them.

Yep. Holes.

What kind of holes, you might ask? (and even if you don't)

Well ... I can tell you that I'm not thinking of the holes in the ozone right now, I've only had my one cup of tea yet this morning and right now it's easier to contemplate the holes in my Rice Krispies and what about them makes that inviting little "Snap" "Crackle" and "Pop".

I would give thought to those black holes in space, however I'm still trying to figure out how cyberspace opened a hole and swallowed the last three pages of my DaLDoM blog I have been suffering through for the last month when all I did was click the "Save" button on Microsoft Word. (If anyone has a number for Bill Gates ... I'd like to give him a "word")

No ... I'm not thinking deep philosophical thoughts ...

I'm not wondering about the fact that kids of all ages find a donut hole much more fun to eat than a regular donut.

I'm really not thinking about golfers and their intense passion to find that elusive "hole in one". (Although I was thinking of a particular friend this morning who truly does love the game of golf and hope she's doing alright ... "Hi Friend!" *waves*)

I'm actually not even giving a moment to thinking about that mysterious hole in the bottom of my lip that only opens when I am eating red sauce pasta and wearing a white shirt.

It's a bit more basic than that ... I'm folding laundry and I'm thinking about the holes I have found in clothing. You see, I just plucked from the basket this pink t-shirt with a daisy on the front. It's a nightshirt that was originally a regular shirt of my oldest girlie and passed to the twinks when they were smaller to be used as a nightshirt. It's been a favorite ... there was a struggle to have the oldest relinquish it even though it had grown entirely too small to wear (yes I know ... shirts don't grow, children do ... *sigh* ... work with me here ... it's early) and then when it was passed to the twinks, there occurred regular arguments between The Bickersons on whose turn it was to wear it. At one point the disagreements grew so large, we had to keep a chart of who wore it and when.

Needless to say ... it is one of those loved items. It is also an item that could be worn on Sunday, it is so holey. :-) Seriously.

When my girlie came out, dressed for bedtime, wearing this faded (yet still incredibly bright pink) shirt last weekend, I had to do a double-take and contemplate how best to retire said shirt. I had already fought the battle of the beloved Pinnochio shirt that was barely being held together at the top by the rim, one sleeve hanging down - anchored only by the stiches of thread under the arm. The hem had been ripped and a hole had emerged around the belly button area that a knee could easily fit through from underneath. In comparison, with three worn tears across the left side of the chest and three fingersized holes at the base near the non-existent hem, the pink daisy shirt seems to be all in one solid piece. I realized that retirement is still several wearings & washings & dryings & foldings away for this article of nightshirt bliss.

I'm not sure what it is about these holey t-shirts that makes them so comfortable and sought after to be worn. Yet, if I look in my own closet ... there is a purple and black flannel shirt that has been stitched back together so many times that I'm not exactly sure where the original thread stops and the new thread begins. With a hole in the side, and one at the cuff ... it is not a shirt that sees the public light of day. Yet on a cold, rainy Saturday, combined with a pair of grey sweats (or red and blue plaid flannels, whichever is handiest) it is my favorite thing to wear.

I don't know the reason, and at this point in the morning, I don't believe I really care. It was just something that struck my mind and gave me a thought to think for a moment.

Besides, here's the real conundrum ... why is it I just folded and put away 3 t-shirts with the size of holes that another arm or head could be inserted in my girlies jammie drawer and yet I threw away 1 sock because it had a hole about the size of my pinkie in it?

Oh ... and why would this have anything to do with Supernatural, besides the fact that I wrote this on a Thursday morning?

Well ... I am a true obsessive and I can turn just about anything around to reflect my favorite show and the Winchesterboys. Afterall, as any fan can tell you ...

"Driver picks the music ... shotgun shuts his pieHOLE"

2008 Begins - Bickersons, Buffy, and Folding Towels

12:00 am

A bright start to a new year, right?

Oh. Yeah.

Fireworks sounding outside, glasses clinking and wishes for a new year joyfully shared inside. The ending to a fun evening.

12:30 am

Kitchen is cleaned up, friends have gone home, girlies are in jammies ... I'm in my jammies. A perfect time to close down the house and begin the new year with a good night's sleep, right?

Oh. Yeah.

12:45 am

Realization has set in that girlies will not be settling down any time soon. I've told you about the Bickersons before, right?

Oh. Yeah.

This time it was the twins ... plus the added bonus of their older sister. The back and forth sensations went something like this:

Oldest one vs. middle one.

Middle one vs youngest one.

Youngest one vs. oldest one.

It was a round robin of laughter and bickering ... one girlie is busy with a Christmas present of scrapbooking - seemingly peaceful, but with small comments egging one or the other of her sisters on. There's another one who is busy replaying (and replaying ... and replaying ... oh! and did I mention replaying?) a single song from the High School Musical 2 to the delight (and I use the word sarcastically) of her oldest sister. Then there is the oldest sister, who has decided on a late night snack and sitting next to me chattering (while I am attempting to pull a moment of quiet around me by reading a few emails & responding) and begging me to make the one stop the constant replays. I suggest other songs. Soon we are replaying all of the songs from HSM2 ... ALL OF THEM. And the bickering resumes.

"She's driving me nuts."

"She won't leave me alone."

"She took my place."

"She's making rude noises."

I won't go on. Let's just say that after an hour of this, exhaustion is setting in and I've decided to take a more active ... ie. assertive ... role in herding the Bickerson's to bed.

However, before I have the strength to do so ... a moment alone is needed.

I head back to my bedroom and begin to fold some towels, enjoying the quiet of my room and the mundane routine of simply folding towels. Unfortunately, I forgot that I have this internal magnet that doesn't attract just one girl, it attracts them all. This magnet works whether I'm in the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, or the bathroom. Ah ... the joys!

Shortly after a couple of towels are folded, one girlie arrives and plunks herself behind me on the bed. Another towel, another girlie arrives singing along with a song on her MP3 player. This is always interesting, because ... of course ... all those around are hearing is the sound of her voice, not the background music. This particular song is a popular one at our house ... it is a song from that critically acclaimed, wildly popular show - Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Musical. My girlies know the episode and music by heart and now, they have the songs on their MP3 players.

Another towel and enter the third girlie, who ... upon hearing what her sister is singing ... doesn't just chime in, but goes to get her MP3 player so they can time it to listen and sing at the same time.

My new year began with friends ... had a bout of The Bickersons ... and soon became a seranade of "I've Got a Feeling" (without background music) by my three girlies as I folded towels and realized it was almost two in the morning.

2008 ... It began with the end of a party and the continuation of our every day life - the Bickersons, Buffy, and folding towels. More than that it began with all of us being healthy and happy.

What better way to begin?

Words Say One Thing ... Actions Say Another

The Bickersons came to my house this evening. For those who don't know, this is the name I have for my twin girlies when they decide to indulge in sisterly, ahem ... shall we say ... "love and affection". Tonight's display of "love and affection" revolved around who's turn it was to change the movie in the DVD player. After listening and watching this exchange for a few minutes, I played the "Grown Up" card. (I'm allowed to do this. After all, I AM the grown up.) I took the remote, which happened to be on my desk with me at the time, changed the setting from DVD to Video and pushed play. I wasn't sure which one, but I was certain it was a Supernatural video in the machine. I was right. As "In My Time of Dying" (Season 2, Ep. 1 for those who ... *gasp* ... are unaware) begins to play, so begin the groans, the "oh no!"s and various other statements saying they would rather watch anything else. Ignoring The Bickersons, who are now showing a united front, I continue to allow the video to play.

Interestingly enough ... before the firey flash of the title card at the beginning ... both girls attention was caught and the episode continued with little comment and no complaint as the three of us watched those Winchester men and the journey of that particular episode.

They tease me for my passion, they make faces when I play my DVD's or videos, they insist they'd rather watch anything else ... yet when it is on the TV - they are captivated, watching, asking questions, interested in what is happening.

Yeah. Their words tell me one thing ... but I'm a grown up. I can read the actions.

Oh. And the Bickersons? Yeah, they've changed back into the sweet girlies I enjoy. For atleast the next five minutes.