Time Has Passed & It's Almost Time Again.. (Picture-filled post!)

Now you are probably sitting here, reading that title and wondering, "what in the world is this chick talking about with this wacky riddle?!".

On November 18th, my oldest of the three kids had turned twelve years old. Yes, she is one more year closer to the dreaded tag known as "teenager". All in all though, with her maturity level (both mentally, as well as physically) she is more like a fourteen year old.

I'm thirty-five. She is twelve. I am 100 pounds on the nose. She last weighed in at 98. I am five feet tall. She is too. I don't have a set of "boobage". She does.

Basically, if you were to ask her thoughts about all this "you're as tall as your Mama" talk, that may just be what she would do to me after snickering. Like she did in the doctor's office when he asked how old I was, when discussing reading glasses.

As for the second part of the answer to my awesome riddle-title...

The youngest of the three "angels" of mine will be turning seven years old on Monday. Hard to believe. Already, seven years have just up and flown past like a speeding NASCAR racer doing 250 on the inside stretch.

In many ways she is taking after her big sister. She looks up to her (especially being that Big Sissy is about a foot and a half or so taller than her lol) and severely misses her when my oldest has to go on bi-weekly visits with her biological father.

Both of my girls have shown me (albeit the hard way) just what all it had taken my parents to raise me. Raging hormones, attitudes, "Princess-tude".

And thank God, the oldest (who now wears makeup), puts it on and still looks natural, but accentuates her features. Especially those beautiful blue eyes of her's.

At the end of the day, no matter how old they get, and no matter how tall they grow, they will ALWAYS be the apple of their Daddy's eye. My husband may not be my oldest's biological father with not a shred of DNA shared between them, but she is HIS, and he will tell you that to your face.

The little one is so wrapped around her Dad's finger, it's not funny. Okay. It is. But geez! And I thought that I got away with "murder" as a kid. Wrong. I kind of wish I could do that "Freaky Friday" thing and trade places with her for about 24 hours and enjoy some of the (tons of) freedom that she gets.

This past Summer's trip to Richmond has been one of the best I think that we have enjoyed as a family. And now, with all three of my kids growing up, and inching ever so much closer to being teens and "big kids", I find myself reflecting more on the Summers past, when the kids were so innocent, that it never seemed like we as parents would have to deal with more than scraped knees and the occasional "she/he took my toy".

To those of you with "young" (as in under the age of eight years old), take my advice and heed it well. Cherish EVERY single moment with your child(ren). Relish in each hug and kiss (yes, even the open-mouthed baby ones!). Enjoy the fanciness of every tea party and doll playtime.

The young years fly by faster than a Santa Ana wind.

I'm Not, I can't

I act happy. But I'm not.

I sound excited. But I'm not.

I say that I'm ready to. But I'm not.

I say that it's indeed time. But for me, it's not.

The tears I try to choke back and hide lay beneath the surface. Like a raging water fall. It feels like the first time all over again. In what seems like the not-too-distant past.

She is growing up. I can't stop it.

She is maturing. I can't stop it.

Before I know it, she will be out in the vast world on her own. Not too many years left. And the years that are bygone, as are the ones to come, have passed or will pass as a thief in the night, all too quickly.

Now, Middle School years are upon us. She is no longer a little girl. Not yet a "young woman", but caught in the middle.

The smile, chuckles and the silly exclamations from me are just a facade. My way of coping with the realities of life as a mother to a girl who is growing rapidly before my eyes.

Inside, I rage. My heart hurts. I wonder if so far I have REALLY given it my all to her, and indeed gave her the tools she will need for the next chapter of her life.

In the end though, I can't let her go. I'm not ready.

A "Chew It Over With Twix" moment & A Special Memory.

You know kids. They are some of the most free-spirited, care-free people that you will ever meet in this old world.

And believe me when I say that I have three kids that certainly fit the bill. Primarily my youngest, Skyler, who will be turning six years old tomorrow *cries*.

Skyler had decided that last night, Dad's surprise trip to the McDonald's that has a play area was her "Birthday Dinner" (we each get to choose to eat where we wish to for our birthday). So be it. No biggie there.

As Skyler and I sat together in the two-person booth (by her request), while Bryce (her big brother) and Scott (my husband) sat at the table adjacent to us near the middle of the aisle, Skyler and I began a conversation that she started.

The very first thing out of my (soon to be) six year old's mouth is, "Mama, can I drive when I'm ten?". Quickly I replied that driving will not be a skill she will learn until she is sixteen, so she has another ten years to go. To which she stated that this time frame would take "forever".

But then without missing a beat, and with such a straight face, that she would be an awesome Poker player one day, Skyler suddenly blurts out, "Can I have a baby when I'm SIXTEEN?".

I swear that the crickets started chirping. And the look on my face I'm certain was beyond priceless. And in that brief moment, I honestly had the "chew it over with Twix" dude pop in my head with that freaking slogan.

After the shock of hearing that question, I (in what seemed like an eternity) suddenly shot back with, "No! Not until you are AT LEAST eighteen. That's the safety rule".

The gloomiest look came upon her face. And in the aftermath, I honestly had to bite my tongue as to be able to keep a straight face and not laugh manically at what just happened.

Well folks, it doesn't stop there, though. Later on after getting home, I decided to lay on the couch with my (old school) Walkman listening to all kinds of different tunes.

I'd turned to one station where the DJ was talking live to a little boy of maybe ten to twelve years old that had called in with embarrassing stories. And boy dandy was it a good one!

He said that one evening, his mom and he were out doing some Christmas shopping, and in the midst of it all, stopped and bought a couple of Chocolate Ice Cream cones. Afterward, they got back on road along the Interstate.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. And I'm not talking tinkling here, people. This woman had to G-O! So, she pulls off the Interstate and goes to (of all places) Kroger (my husband works for the grocery chain).

The little boy says that after getting to the parking lot, his mother jumps out and makes a beeline for Kroger's front doors, only to turn right back around and get back in.

All she says to her son is...

"Too late".

Yes. Your assumption is correct. The woman crapped her pants. So they get back on the freeway and head the rest of the way home.

After listening to this hilarious story unfold, it suddenly sprang to mind of the time when I was about fourteen or fifteen, riding in the car with my dad. We were in fact on the way home from doing some errands. Suddenly, he had the urge to pass gas.

But he knew that if he were to do so, then there would be one hell of a mess to clean up. So, needless to say, being a man in true form, he held it in with all of his might.

But all the holding in the world, even at no more than five minutes away from our house, was going to do. Nope.

Instead, he unwillingly let one rip. And that was all that she wrote. And of course it HAD to be on a cold day where you don't want to roll the windows down.

Next thing I know, my dad is sitting in the driver's seat, squirming like a baby in a car carrier. Then the odor hits me like a slap in the face. I literally must have turned in to Kermit the Frog, because man did I feel ill. And hence, I had to freeze my ass off thanks to needing FRESH air.

I asked my father if he felt better. When I heard the word "no" I about wanted to smack him. That's when he let me know that sadly he didn't make it (at the two minute mark of almost being home). Next thing I know, I'm sitting there almost having an Asthma attack from laughing so hard, that I start crying streams of tears and trying my best to breath.

Every time that my dad asked me to stop, I would only laugh harder. When we got home, he rushed in and showered. I was the lucky sucker (and as my "punishment" according to him for laughing)that got to take his crap-filled, streaked undies (they just HAD TO BE tighty-whities that day) and pants out to the garage and prep them for washing.

To this day, once in a blue moon that memory will hit me and I will just burst out in laughter. Or it comes to me from hearing some other poor soul's tale of incontinence, like it did for me last night.

When my father is long gone, that will be one of the happiest, funniest and most embarrassing moments that I will cherish for the rest of my days. Right next to Skyler's outrageous baby question.

Reality Sets In Three Fold For Me As A Mom...In One Morning.

That time for them has finally come to pass. No longer are they small, helpless, needy children. Now they are increasingly independent, strong, knowledgeable 'tweens'.

In one fail swoop, I'm being forced to not only start letting go of one of the three, but TWO of them at one time. And it will only get more difficult to do so as the next few years fly by.

Hayley started walking the five minutes to school last week, but still coming home on the bus. Now, her brother who is seventeen months her junior is starting to walk to school as well. And again, come home on the bus.

Which in turn has forced my (soon to be) six year old to be a "big girl" and ride the school bus on her own. But starting last week, she started riding ONE day a week after school to come home, being that both Hayley and Bryce are now in the after school program of Art Club.

This coming Thursday, Hayley, who is my oldest, will be eleven. Lord how these years have just flown on past. It's been a ride thus far. And with her mature attitude being more of a fourteen year old, her wings are spreading faster than I had hoped.

The week after, Skyler, who is the "baby" of the family will be six! So, soon, she will no longer officially be a "baby" of sorts to the world. She will no longer be a toddler or a preschooler. She will be an adolescent. Again, I am at a loss of where all the years have gone. Like a wind, they blew past with nary a care of what a mother's heart feels.

When I watched (through the closed front door's glass) Hayley and Bryce cross the street and head down the block towards school, I had them flash in my head as they were when they were little. I saw them as they used to be. Suddenly, I got back in to the reality of what I was witnessing, and for a brief moment, longed for those days once more.

Then, watching Skyler cross from about half way at the bus stop on her own (I walked her half way in to the street) to get on to it alone for the first time, my heart sank and I had to fight my wanting to walk her the rest of the way, it hurt to know that she too has stepped one closer away from me and becoming her own individual.

In these two brief moments of one morning, I wished to God I could stop time. Just for a few seconds. I wanted to turn back the clock to the times where they inherently needed me to the fullest extent. I have witnessed this morning the anxiety of a mother "losing" their children to the world. All at once. Each one making their own individual paths in the world.

How many ways can a mother's heart ache and break? Many. Including watching them all take their own paths in society and forming their own identities.

It's one thing to watch them do this one at a time. But to see all three of your children do this on different levels at once is completely overwhelming. Gone are the days of cooing, learning to walk and talk, being dependent even on me for the simplest of things and asking silly questions such as why the sky is one color and the ground another.

These are the days where you are extremely proud of who you are raising your children to be. But it sucks also, because in the same thought, you wish you could do it all over again with them and keep time as it is.

Finding yourself via FaceBook.

You probably read that title and thought to yourself that I have officially gone off the deep end. Admit it! Yeah, that's what I thought.

Some of us have personalities that are very open and we know everything about ourselves. What am I saying, you ask? Basically, you know yourself and how much you observe in your world and your life. You know of every single one of your likes, as well as all of your dislikes. People, places, music, literature. You name it, you know of it, all the way down to your very core.

If you are not a FaceBook crackhead, then you are probably quite confused. Let me break it down to it's very simplicity... When you update your interests, you are automatically linked with a "Like" page for that person, place or thing. And/or you can search for said PPT and "Like" it's page.

Some people only "like" a few things. Some people "like" A LOT of things. I have some friends on FaceBook that fall within that first category. I though, fall in to the latter one. And after really looking at all of my interests and "likes" across the board, I think I honestly shocked myself.

Recently, FB had added a new feature. You can see how many "Likes" your friends have, and how many total are on your page as well. For some it's no more than 20. Some, up to 50 or 100...Then there are those such as myself with 200 or more!

After seeing with my own eyes just how many interests and "likes" that I have, my jaw about hit my hardwood floor. It really gave me a great ideal of who I REALLY AM.

I'm more than a wife or a mother. I am more than just a Volunteer at my children's school. I'm more than a daughter or sister-in-law. I am uniquely varied in taste and perception. I am from one extreme to another. I'm a little bit country, and a little bit rock n' roll. I'm a tad bit drama, and a whole lot of laughter.

Life overall has never been all roses, rainbows, puppies and lollipops. I have had more than my fair share of downs that, when looking back, outweighed the ups. But I rolled with the punches and came out the better person in the end, in this thing we call "life".

After seeing everything that I "like", that I take interest in, what my relationships are and weave it all together, I see the entire package now, that makes ME who *I* am.

Now, I can see what so many see in me. I can go with Adam Sandler one minute, laughing until I cry and my sides hurt, to being wrapped up in a love story that stars Sandra Bullock and cry my happy and sad tears all of the way through the movie's entirety.

Or, one moment, I'm listening to Reba McEntire singing "His Name Was John" on the local country station, only to tune in to Lady Gaga on the Rock/Pop station as she sings "Bad Romance".

So much variation is within my life. And I *LIKE* it that way.

How do your FaceBook "likes" cast you and your personality? Do they show the TRUE, FULL and the REAL you? Take a look and see if you "find" yourself today.

I'm in a Musical Way,today!Join me & hear what I want to say to certain peeps!!

This first one is for my husband Scott. Let's just say that I'm sure we are BOTH in withdrawal thanks to my UTI problem. And for me, this following song states exactly how I'm feeling about him.




This next one is to my kids. They have been *almost* the death of me during Summer Vacation. Sadly, I can vouch that I have said EVERY SINGLE thing in this "mom song" at least a hundred times, plus another million...




The eating song goes out to my PMS and knowing that I have gained two pounds from water-weight gain. And another two will be added from stuffing my face for the next week or so...




Every once in a while, including very recently, I have thought about the old days of my youth. And I swear, Tim got this right!




There is a way out! You just need to find the courage to pick yourself up and leave. It WILL be difficult and extremely scary to do so, at first. But to escape and taste the freedom of what life REALLY has to offer is more than worth it..I should know.




Last but not least, this one goes to all my gal-pal readers! No matter if you are 9 or 99. We really ARE the same inside...

It's (almost) that time again!!

I can see it in my head.

They get dressed in their khaki pants, polo shirts and their new school shoes. Bags are all packed and ready to go. A filling breakfast to boot (before dressing, of course).

But, alas, I have a month to go. That's okay. I can somehow wait. I've gone this long. But it will be SO nice sending them off to school once more.

The only part I don't like is that there is the fact of knowing that this is Hayley's last year in Elementary School. Here in Virginia, you go in to Middle (Jr. High) School at the Sixth Grade mark. And for me, that's a HARD pill, to swallow. Knowing that at this time next year, my "baby" will be in with the "big kid" crowd.

In the coming weeks, I will start shopping for them. Hitting the sales. Like the 24-count Crayola Crayons for twenty-five cents a box! And all three kids need them.

And for being in the Fifth Grade this year, Hayley is the CHEAPEST (between the older two, who are one grade apart) to buy for, surprisingly. Bryce (knowing from last year) will be the most expensive. And with Skyler, I might get away with being the cheapest of all three.

Please, don't get me wrong. I love my kids. I love being with them. And I certainly love doing things with them. But my patience and my sanity are waring thin. As is theirs with one another and with me. I've done what I can to keep them active and have fun. I plan on us all going next month, before school starts, up to the Blue Ridge Parkway and take a day for hiking and a picnic.

And of course, once everyone is settled in to school, then I will be filling out (once again) the paperwork to volunteer at school between one and three days per week. It gets me out of the house, involved with the school, lets me stay on top of school-related topics/problems and lets me enrich children's lives.

Though, I try hard to not 'work' in any of my kids' classes, if optional. With exception to some light filing and being a Room Parent (if needed).

So, on August 17th, I shall be marching down to the school (that is a five minute walk from my house) and register the kids. Although I had already PRE-REGISTERED Skyler before the 2009-2010 school year let out.

Then, on August 23rd, starts a brand new school year. And as much as I want them to get on that bus, I can guarantee that it may be a bit hard to see them go off once more to learn and grow. For that will be the end of another fun-filled Summer and another year of their childhood gone forever.

CDC, recalls, and kids. When did we as a society stop REALLY living?

I would be the first to admit it to you. I have not lead the most pristene, clean, upstanding, "perfect" life in this old world of ours. I have screwed up COUNTLESS time in my thirty-three years of living on this rocky, round land.

And for the most part, I live it without regret. And (again for the most part) I don't try to look back. Only ahead. What more can a person really and honestly do?

Over on Facebook, I belong to a Fan Page for the local news channel that I used to watch when I lived in Nevada (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Reno-NV/KOLO-8-News-Now/39225221502). One of today's topics is in regards to the McDonald's 'Shrek'-themed glasses being recalled, due to SUPPOSEDLY having too much Cadmium.

Can someone please tell me when the CDC, the Federal Government, Congress and other branches of Legislation forced kids to stop from being KIDS?

Because when I was little, I had the glasses that were sold/passed out with my Happy Meals of the Disney characters. I had drank water from my parent's garden hose. I ate glue. Hell, I even tried to eat a worm once, as I pretended that it was a piece of 'spaghetti'. I skated and rode my bike without a helmet and knee pads (which I DO wish we DID have back then). I even ate Silly Putty and took big old whiffs of the stuff (because it oddly smelled good to me).

What's the whole point of the list above? To show that as a child I LIVED. I had FUN. And guess what? I came out no worse for ware. I'm alive and kicking. I felt the JOY, as well as the FUN, and the RUSH of being uninhibited and LIVING.

Today, it's all about mass recalls, don't drink the tap water, don't eat non-organic foods, that Soy milk will be healthier than Cow's milk.

So tell me, when did we stop living? Kids today are so tied down with Nintendo, Internet, crappy T.V. shows (that are WAAAAY more volatile in nature, then back in my day). They are no longer going outside in the yard to play.

This is why I *make* my kids play outside every chance I can get. They are limited on T.V., computer and Nintendo time. They have to play or be reading for the majority of the day.

Yes, my kids do get *most* of the CDC recommended shots. I have only said no to one or two types that I will flat-out refuse to let ANY of them have. But other than that, I let my kids enjoy life like I did back when I was a child.

They drink from the water hose outside. They play in the dirt and mud. They dig up worms and on occasion have made mud pies with the worms as "topping". And they do MANY other things that I did as a kid, growing up. Because I let them LIVE, as well as ENJOY their childhood, while they have the chance.

My mom died at the age of 43 from complications of a massive Stroke. She (had) and my father have Type 2 Diabetes. There is heart disease in my family. I have been a life-long asthmatic, due to BIRTH-RELATED complications/birth defects. I was to NOT be alive after the first 24-48 hours after my birth. I had to LIVE in the hospitals for (almost) the first 3 years of my life. I am a recent Corneal Transplant Recipient. How much more 'first-hand experience' am I supposed to have?

So, for the CDC to recall things left and right for practically EVERY single thing is getting (in MY opinion) highly ridiculous and asinine. Especially with it being primarily all CHILDREN'S toys, clothing and food geared towards kids. And because of CDC's warnings, recalls, (constantly) 'updated' warnings to the AMA Boards, kids have been BANNED (yes, I said 'banned') from being typical children.

I feel sorry for my children, and for the world's children of today, and will continue to do so for the future generations, including (God willing) grandchildren. They are, and will be tied down by so many "what if's", 'recalls', warnings and Government-geared 'scare tactics', that we may as well just let the world blow up right now or all commit suicide. Because we can't let people LIVE and better yet, not ENJOY life. There are too many bad POSSIBILITIES out there that might kill us.

Like I stated on the KOLO News page to a fellow commentator, no one ever said ANY of us were going to live perfectly. But LIVE it (life), because it's the only one you have.

Going out on a limb. And I may be getting kicked off. Shock may be found today. (ADULTS ONLY post!!)

I'm straight. I have been since I can remember what 1+1 equates to. I'm a Christian. But not a "die hard, Bible wielding, know every verse in the Good Book" kind. I'm a mother of three great kids. I'm married to the ultimate love of my life. And I at times have bisexual thoughts.

Does that last sentence turn you off? Does it turn you away? Or am I human? I have had these thoughts, fantasies and the curiosity for many, upon many years.

Now that you know this about me, am I "less of a Christian"? No. Am I "lost"? No. Do I feel that this is just a phase? No. Am I less of a friend before today's post? No. Are you? Maybe.

I am in a fan page site over on Facebook where a self-proclaimed "Christian", high school graduate, and college student is just not seeing the forest for the trees.

I'm very sorry, but like with ANY relationship (that is healthy and consensual), a gay/lesbian/bisexual's relationship(s) with their partner(s) is NOT completely and totally revolved around sex and having children. And I am so VERY tired of hearing that "argument", just as I am about the saying of "if we condone marriages of gays, then what's next....marrying ANIMALS?".

Last time I have checked, we humans ARE animals. We are of the mammalian variety. And we are listed as the highest animal species on the food chain, as well as intellect chain. And we have "animalistic" sex with our own species.

Also, it has been scientifically proven that thousands of animal species have homosexual sex amongst themselves. So, is God TOTALLY against homosexuality? Guess not, being He did create the animals. And they have no knowledge of Him, social viewpoints, nor of right from wrong in the sexual world.

Let's get down to the nitty gritty. And from this point, it's really an ADULT topic. And I don't plan to hide anything. If this changes how you think of me, or on how you view me, and you wish to no longer be my friend, then so be it. If you can't handle the REAL me, at it's fullest, then you have not the ability to be my TRUE friend.

On some occasions of love making with my husband, especially when we like it to be a little more rough and kinky, we pull out "THE" toy (rubber dick) and talk dirty (actually dirtier) with one another. As soon as he sets the mental scene of some three-some, and some girl-on-girl action, it totally sets my head spinning, driving me up the wall. Needless to say, between the physical aspects and the mental imagery, it makes me even hornier and gets me off even more so than "basic" sex.

Ever since I was a teenager, I have had fantasies about being with a girl/woman. And I have had the fantasies of being with both a man and another woman at the same time. But due to self-image and self-esteem issues, and now with having young children, to try out and fulfill those fantasies (that my husband and I share in) seems like a lost ship in the vast ocean.

I can't help who I am. I can't help the thoughts and feelings that I have. I can't be anyone else but me. And I refuse to hide that part of myself any longer. I have kept it tucked away, only being something that myself and my husband know. But not any longer.

And for those of you that are thinking this...No, I am NOT writing this for "shock value", to gain readers or comments. I am writing this because I felt it was FINALLY time to. I felt that I needed to be completely honest with myself, and those around me. 

Like I stated earlier in the post, if this causes me to lose friends, then so be it. If they choose to NOT accept me for who I am, how I believe, how I view things and for not being the "Christian" that THEY feel I am not, then they were NEVER TRULY my 'friend' in the first place.

The Tween Scene (per my experiences)

I've been the mother 'officially' of a Tween (ages nine, through twelve) for the past year and a half. Believe me when I say, it certainly is no picnic. Especially when your experience is from having the oldest of the three going through this is a girl, no less. Figures. God had to get the good laughs from me.

My oldest is now a ten-year-old she-devil (at times). Not to mention, Hayley is just about as tall as I am. AT THE AGE OF TEN, people!!...I'm only a mere five-foot-tall, petite lady. And here, my daughter is (literally) right under my nose.

She is also already having bouts of PMS (putting up with Mom's shit). So, if we happen to be hormonal at the same time, it's game on in my house. And it ain't pretty! We have been known to almost claw one another's eyes out. And that's on a GOOD day, mind you.

Add in the fact that Hayley is already "budding", and it makes my anguish fueled even more. Why? Because I know that once those puppies start to really...*ahem* sprout, that she is going to be beating her mother in that department. And that's when I drag out my husband, Scott's old Softball METAL bat from the attic. It's gonna be my "beat a boy" bat for those that want to take advantage of my little girl.

Yep. I have this all mapped out. I'm ready to roll with the big punches.

As for my son, Bryce, he JUST entered the world of Tweenhood. So far, so good. Then again, those hormones have yet to even hit him. But I can say for sure, that knowing him, when they do, it's going to be World War Three in my home. And I already told Scott that being he laid the girls (BOTH of them mind you) on me to 'handle', that it is HIS job to strictly deal with the boy when he starts to uh....mature in more ways than one (not including the voice thing).

To me, these days, raising tween is like raising a pack of rabid wolves. You never, ever know from day to day, much less, from hour to hour, what the members of your pack are going to say, do, or think. My daughter changes her mind faster than I can change a battery in my remote. Not to mention the emotional part of the package....That alone can drive you insane faster than a Nascar race car going over 200 MPH.

But, then again, my daughter is truly dishing out what I know I gave to my poor Dad, who pretty much single-handedly raised me on his own, after mom died. For those first couple of years, I know I was hell on wheels. My Nana made matters worse when she "moved" (more like snuck) her way in to our 'happy home'.

Talk about hell on wheels! I made it my life's mission to make her life MISERABLE while she was with us. And I actually succeeded. And her own paranoia even got the best of her. She was sure that I was a druggie (Pot). Why? Because I wanted my PRIVACY. So, I kept my door to my room closed most of the time. That made her madder than anything else.

These days, I've taken what I did as a 'tween' (there was no such thing in my day), think on WHY I did/said what I had, and I apply reason and independence, as well as boundaries based on my past experiences.

*My* 'tween' can close her door (and sometimes lock it) for privacy. She is allowed to say how she feels (as long as it's constructive communication) without worry of getting a 'tongue lashing' for having her own views. Hayley is allowed to talk to her friends on the phone, in private. She can cook for herself (some things...Dad is teaching her how to cook, being that they share in that).

Most of all, I'm letting her grow up and see the world for herself. She will one day be on her own, and she will need to see that life isn't always fun, games, rainbows and puppies. I let her know in honest terms of what her body is doing and why. I'm letting her know now, snippets of why her biological father and I are no longer together (and why I married 'Dad'). She is also learning the TRUTH about certain family members in her bio-dad's family, being he (as I had found out by her) has been LYING about them.

Some days, Hayley and I do not see eye-to-eye on a single thing. Most days, we are like two peas in a pod. But she knows that our relationship has boundaries. I am NOT her "friend" or her "buddy". Not yet. Those days will come along soon enough, after she is grown and on her own. I am first and foremost (and will ALWAYS BE) her mother and a part of her 'parenting team'.

After all, it certainly takes a village to raise a tween...or two.