Abby invited three of her friends over to spend the night tonight. Apparently the girls started planning this event on Monday even though they didn't know where they were going to have the event. Even though we are infectious and the ones that live furthest from town, we got chosen. Whoo hoo, it's better than getting Miss America. Yeah.
They have squealed, giggled, screamed, slammed doors, said, "Like, ohmygawwwwsh!" approximately 9000 times, gotten Sam into so much trouble that his daddy took the poor boy to McDonald's to keep him from going to prison because I think the child was on the verge of murder, sent God knows how many text messages to only God knows who for God only knows what reason, eaten enough Hostess snacks to feed the entire nation of Ethiopia and now? Now they are sitting here at the dining room table with me even though I was declared "lame" awhile ago (and not like a gimpy foot kinda lame but like mother to a tween kinda lame), playing with Kady's play-doh even though 30 minutes ago Kady was declared a "baby" for playing with the same play-doh.
Now they are juggling said play-doh.
Oh my hell. There's play-doh on the ceiling.......does that shit come off? Now I remember why I outlawed play-doh a few years ago. This is the first play-doh that has been in my house in probably four years and now it's on the ceiling.
Great. The play-doh that isn't on the ceiling is now being balanced on five little noses. They are so precious.
Actually, out of all the girls in Ab's grade I'm so glad she's friends with these girls. They're good girls from good families and they're polite. Well, as polite as 11 year olds get, I think.
They're weird, though. Way weird. Like, ohmygosh, play-doh juggling weird.
I'm taking six kids to Sam's ballgame tomorrow. One boy, five girls. Four of those girls are tweens. I hope the concession stand sells tall boys.
When your very white daughter, a budding young redneck, bobs her head and says, "Oh no you di'nt!" and the other three girls literally collapse into the floor in a cacophony of hysterical giggles the stark realization that you have become the mother of a tween and you are trapped in your house, completely responsible for their giggling little selves and you can't even have a beer smacks you between the eyes like a rogue ball of play-doh falling from the ceiling.
God help us all.
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3 comments:
Had a similar experience last week with the 12 year-old. She had a study date with a friend that seemed to entail a lot of cell phone use and some "secret" walks outside to see a boy (I was onto them as I picked up the extention when he called); and ultimately my daughter got zinged, because the "friend" never did any work on the project and my daughter had to do the whole assignment but hare the credit. Like, Oh m'Gawd!
whoops, SHARE the credit. I should proof-read!
Hi, stumbled onto your blog through some site I'm sure I've forgotten by now, but I read your post and I just have to say: GIRL, I FEEL YOUR PAIN!! I'm surrounded by tween girls these days and I'm right there with you in the "lame Mom" category, a title I try to live up every chance I get. :)
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