Empty Nesters Again?!

by on Dec 31, 2015 (1) Comments

David and I have spent the last five years of our life chasing my father- in-law down the rabbit hole of Alzheimer’s. We knew going in that we were just helping Mom keep Dad safe and happy for the last days of his life. We knew that this was a war that could never be won but we were determined to let Dad battle it out with as much dignity as possible. David’s Dad lost his battle with Alzheimer’s on November 5th.

Jackie, my mother-in-law had put everything on hold for five years. She gave up her normal life to move in with David and me. She was Dad’s beacon of light as his mind left him in the dark constantly wondering where he was. Now it was time for my Mother-in-law to return to her normal life. The life where she has a beautiful 3-bedroom condo looking out over a bay in southern Florida. The life where she goes out to eat with her friends and golfs in a 9-hole league at her country club. The life where she is in charge and free to roam about the country at will.

We pointed our car south with a sense of relief and guilt. While we miss Paul very much we really didn’t miss the chaos of taking him on a road trip. It was a relief to be able to pass each exit without being told, “Get off here, this is the one” and then deal with Paul’s anger that you missed it until his brain looped and you were coming up on the next exit and the conversation began again. It was a relief not told to be on constant lookout for the water that “should be just right over there any minute” as we cruised at 75 miles an hour through land locked Georgia. It was a relief to make the trip without Dad thinking that we were all idiots and had no idea where we were going so we should stop so he could ask directions. David was relieved to be able to pump gas and go to the bathroom without having to worry about making a hasty exit from the gas station in fear of being arrested because Dad decided to relieve himself al fresco.

We spent a few days with Mom in her condo making sure she was settled before we headed back to our house at the beach. Catching the on ramp to the interstate David and I laughed. When we left Jess, our youngest child, at college in Ohio we were sad and weepy at the loss of our little girl to the grown up world but we were also elated at the opportunity to be alone for the first time in our marriage. Now the opportunity has presented itself to us again. After 30 years of marriage, raising 3 children and helping out with my in-laws for 5 years, its finally just going to be the Dave and Kae show.

Here We Go

Watch out 2016—this will be the year of Empty Nest—who knows what trouble we can get ourselves into now that we are being left unattended!

Happy New Year!

 

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On Strike

by on Dec 20, 2015 (Comments Off on On Strike) Comments

Ok people, just in case you haven’t figured it out just yet, I am a card carrying OCD Wanna Be. In this little loon’s blonde’s world everything would be in perfect order. Everything would have a place to live and a tag so that when it gets lost it knows exactly where to return to. The inside of my mind is a frightening vortex of activity. It’s open 24/7 and there is never a dull moment as it chases its endless list of things that need attention. For as long as I can remember, my brain has thrived on creating order out of chaos (hence my passion for 2000 piece puzzles as a way to relax). Yes, I am the person in the store hanging up wayward garments that have abandoned their hangers. As I stroll down the grocery aisle I have been known to unconsciously reach out and turn labels so that they all face the same direction and straighten boxes so the edges match.   I have learned not to spend too much time in my closet or my clothes somehow magically become color coded and on more than one occasion a long telephone conversation has ended in my bookshelves being alphabetizing first by author then sub-alphabetized by title. Now don’t get confused, this is not a conscious thing and if and when I catch myself doing it I instantly chastise the little neat freak that lives in my head. Sometimes I will intentionally go back and put whatever it is that I have organized back to its original position, thus proving to the little control freak that the world will continue to spin on its axis no matter which direction the green bean’s label is facing. The reason I am a Wanna Be and not an official card carrying member of the Order out of Chaos Department is that I just don’t have the physical stamina to keep up. My brain may be the over achieving task master but my body is like a cart mule. It is a daily struggle, the little neat freak pulling as hard as it can on the rope around the mule’s neck who is sitting down in the middle of a dirt road refusing to take one more step until it has eaten a carrot and had a nap.

The holidays are particularly exciting for my OCD Wanna Be gene. I spend countless hours decorating the house, making my gift lists, baking cookies, making candies, making doggie treats for my grand puppies, planning the holiday meals, shopping for gifts and wrapping them all up in glittery paper. I may always be the woman running into Fedex at closing time on the last day possible to mail out a package for Christmas arrival but I get it done in a whirlwind of satisfying efficiency.

But this year something has happened. The little neat freak, who has been responsible for working overtime corralling the chaos that is my life and tirelessly playing tug of war with the mule has absolutely gone on strike. It doesn’t seem to care that the days are ticking off the calendar at a rapid rate of speed. It doesn’t seem to be the least bit concerned that the little mental file that I keep with everyone’s favorite colors, sizes and most importantly little tidbits of information dropped throughout the year regarding things each person may enjoy as a gift has been misplaced. It doesn’t seem the least bit distressed that TODAY is the last day to get packages in the mail for on-time delivery and all we have is a pile of presents in need of sorting and wrapping and not a single doggie treat has been baked.

Elf on Strike

I actually have no idea what is going on in this crazy blonde’s brain but hopefully the little neat freak will be back on the job by the New Year otherwise 2016 may turn out to be a very interesting year in this OCD Wanna Be’s world.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

 

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Anchovies

by on Oct 10, 2015 (Comments Off on Anchovies) Comments

The morning after Dave and I flew home from Christi’s baby shower I got a phone call.   Christi had been sent to the hospital directly from her Doctor’s office. No going home for clothes, no running to Dunkin Donut for one more delicious breakfast, just go directly to the ER. Not really sure what was going on but knowing that it was 6 weeks before the baby’s due date and that being sent directly to the hospital is never a good sign, Dave and I flew back to Arizona the next morning. I walked into the hospital room and finally breathed my first full breath since that early morning phone call. I looked at my daughter’s face and realized she was just as relieved to see my face as I was to see hers. Unaware of just how sick Christi was we all settled in for a stint of bedrest at the hospital. The bathroom had immediately been dubbed “the cell phone room” because it was the only private place to take a phone call. We developed the code word “anchovies” for any moment when Christi’s private parts were displayed so her father would not be scarred for life by coming into the room unaware.

Things went south very quickly and next morning we got a call from Kenny. “We’re having a baby today!” A few hours later and six weeks before I was supposed to be in Arizona for the birth of my second grandchild, I sat in a chair holding tightly to Christi’s arms while the doctor tried for the third time to put in an epidural. Christi had become so swollen they were having issues getting the placement right. I knew my little girl was scared, sick and in pain.   My mind flashed back to all the times I have held this child in my arms and cooed words of comfort to heal a booboo or wash away the nightmare of the boogie man.

I watched as the ream of paper cascaded onto the floor with its endless waves of contractions. I watched the screen and held my breath as Christi’s blood pressure climbed and her oxygen level fell. I watched helplessly as little to no urine fell into the catheter bag. The neonatal specialist from the NicU came in and went over the laundry list of issues a baby born 5 ½ week premature could or would have. My outside me kept calm while my inner me was running around in circles with her hands waving above her head telling everyone to be in a full bore panic. I held my little girl and coaxed her through each contraction as the epidural failed to do its job. I reminded her to breath, I reminded her to try to relax her muscles even though she felt like someone was trying to pull her feet out of her nose holes. I told her to unclentch her butt muscles so she didn’t give my granddaughter a cone head. In these moments she was not a grown woman with her own baby on the way, she was my precious blue eyed little girl and I would have done anything to give her comfort.

I knew I would leave the room when the time came for my granddaughter to be born and that was ok. This mother hen, of course, would rather be there but I’m not so silly as to not know this is a precious moment that starts a new family and my presence is not necessary. The contractions came faster and more painful and we rubbed, cooed and joked our way through each one. Christi was put on oxygen and I watched carefully the fogging of the mask to make sure that she was breathing when I told her to. My hand instinctively rubbed her back and checked her butt muscle to make sure she wasn’t fighting the contractions. In this momma’s opinion, things were moving fast. The Dr. came in and casually sat on the end of the bed making idle chit chat while checking on the baby’s progress into this world. Suddenly she was calling for a gown and goggles—this baby was coming now. I prepared to back out of the area, my plan was to stay in the room behind the curtain with David so we would be able to hear the baby’s first cry. To my elation, both Kenny and Christi asked me to stay.

I have had three undeniable life altering glorious moments in my life, the birth of my own children. I can’t explain why but the moment that my daughter birthed her daughter, I felt like I had completed an amazing circle in my life. Through the agonizing pain of a natural child birth I brought my beautiful little blue eyed baby into this world and now I have been given the gift of watching this amazing young woman bring my beautiful amazing granddaughter into the world.

Christi and Annika's First Meeting

True to her Gardner/Allen genes our precious little granddaughter Annika was born raring to go. She never spent a single day in the NicU, in fact she never even left the hospital room.  Soon after the birth Christi returned to her normal non-swollen self and although her blood pressure remained an issue all her other symptoms resolved with the birth. One week later both Mommy and Baby were wheeled out of the hospital with a very proud and grateful husband/father at their side trailed by two of the most relieved and elated parents/grandparents in the world.

I have said it before but I’m going to say it again: I am the luckiest woman in the world and LIFE IS GOOD!

Learning to Juggle

by on Aug 10, 2015 (3) Comments

When I had Matthew, some little demon threw a metaphorical ball into the air and shouted in my ear—DON’T DROP IT! With each additional child another ball was cast to the sky and that same little demon giggled with delight at my pending failure while repeating the warning—DON’T DROP THEM!

This is how the Kae Allen “Mommy Juggling Act” was born. Slowly but surely I learned to juggle. I juggled feedings, diapers, crying jags, allergies, daycare, work, school, grocery shopping, house cleaning, laundry, temper tantrums, picky eating stages, broken bones, grade school, soccer, baseball, dance class, piano lessons, vacations, homework, high school, driving lessons, gymnastics practices, gymnastic meets, basketball games, banquets, graduations, dating, breakups, college and finally 3 glorious weddings.

The Mommy Juggling Show

As each one of the kids walked down the aisle and said their “I do’s” I realized that they had picked their “Person”. In what felt like a swoosh I realized that I was just the kid’s protector until they were old enough to find their soul mates. Now my job was done—their ball was passed along.

Jessica, my youngest, gave birth to my first grandchild, Tanner, in February this year. Now I’m watching as my precious brown eyed girl learns to juggle. When Jessica took Tanner home I could almost hear that little demon shouting in her hear “DON’T DROP IT!” When Jessica went back to work I watched her struggling to keep all the new balls up in the air. My heart aches when she feels overwhelmed but I know there is nothing I can do. This is her “Mommy Juggling Act” and she has to develop her own style. So I sit and watch the show. My heart lurching when a ball heads down to the ground and then soars with the ultimate Mommy Pride when she deftly snatches it up and tosses it back into the air.

Is it Christi Jr. or Kenny Jr?

by on Jun 19, 2015 (Comments Off on Is it Christi Jr. or Kenny Jr?) Comments

Patience is a virtue and one that is generally a toss-up for me. I can stand in line at the store fully comfortable with the concept that it is not my turn but I can’t keep my tongue when David pulls the car half sideways into a parking space as far away from the building we are going to as humanly possible. I can wait patiently in traffic, at the doctor’s office or the DMV by taking just a small brain vacation while I wait but once again I can’t seem to keep my tongue when David pulls out of the driveway going the wrong direction to get to a place we have been a million times.  I can generally sit with my father-in-law who has Alzheimer’s and listen to the same babble about where his house is over and over without losing my cool but my responses get a bit snarky when I am answering questions from able brained humans for the umpteenth time. And when it comes to waiting for exciting information from the kids—not my forte.

Christi and Kenny are having a baby in September and the gender was revealed to them on ultrasound several weeks ago. They had already told the Kenny side of the family and I was still waiting with bated breath to find out. Christi and Kenny had decided to put off telling the Allen side of the family since basically the entire family including their aunt, grandma, nephews and nieces would be captured together for 10 glorious days in Hawaii in the next couple weeks. Luckily Christi told me she and Kenny would reveal the gender of the baby at the family luau planned for the third night of the trip, otherwise I would have literally been vibrating with anticipation the entire trip.

Now you all know how it goes, as soon as someone tells you they are pregnant you begin to “Intune” what the baby’s gender will be. When my daughter Jess and her husband Chambliss told us she was pregnant, I was just sure it was a little boy. Their gender reveal involved a co-family dinner and cute little scratch off cards that revealed a pretty little pink bow for a girl and a cute little black mustache for a boy. I would have been elated either way frankly but was pleased that my intuition was still accurate when I scratched my card and found a cute little black mustache looking up at me.

Sitting at the luau I am absolutely on pins and needles. I have been absolutely convinced that the Christi/Kenny baby is a girl. Finally Christi and Kenny walk to the head of the table with a gift bag in their hands. “Mom, since you always want to be the first to know about everything” Christi says to me as she hands me the bag. Oh, goodness, I’m going to reveal their baby’s gender—What! Now massive thoughts of insecurity ratchet through my brain—What if I don’t understand what is in the bag. What if I forget to tell everyone at the table. What if my reaction isn’t what it should be and I forever ruin what should be a precious moment in the kid’s life….and on and on and on.

With fingers trembling as much from anxiety as from anticipation, I open the bag and peer inside. There at the bottom lies a little colored t-shirt. As if in slow motion I reach down into the bag so I can share the robin blue t-shirt with the family all the while my intuition monster is running around in a circle with its hands flung above its head asking incredulously—how could we have been so wrong! I pull out the shirt and read the inscription:

Its a Girl

Whoop Whoop IT’S A GIRL!!!!

Hooray not only is this grandma’s intuition still batting a thousand, I am now the luckiest woman on the planet! I have a beautiful grandson and now and I am going to have an adorable little granddaughter.

Never Say NEVER!

by on May 06, 2015 (Comments Off on Never Say NEVER!) Comments

When Christi (my beautiful blue eyed and at the time blonde haired daughter that resides in the birth order sandwiched firmly between Matthew and Jessica) was in Junior High School she came home one day, slammed her backpack to the ground in front of my desk and unequivocally declared “I AM NEVER HAVING CHILDREN”.

Needless to say, I was somewhat taken aback so my response was “Well, Christina, what in the world.”  She then proceeded to tell me that in the infinite wisdom of her private school they had shown the kids the child birth video in health class.  You know, that wonderful video they have been showing for the last 35 years that takes the viewer through the various stages of love and pregnancy and then cumulates with a bird’s eye view of the natural birth of a baby.  Yep, that’s the video that has crushed this Momma’s dream of grandparenthood before it even became a glimmer in her eyes.

This adamant and frankly somewhat frenzied conversation of women and what they do with their bodies cumulated in Christi asking “What kind of person intentionally does this to themselves”  and then the crushing blow “and what kind of person are you that you not only did it once but did it three times!”  And just like that, the glimmer that hadn’t even been lit yet was snuffed out.

I was pretty sure as the years moved on Christi would be less and less traumatized by the video, but it quickly became apparent as conversation were needed in the area of the opposite sex, their sometimes misguided intentions and the various consequences of their affections became necessary that Christi’s declaration during Jr. High was still in effect.  Frankly, for the mother of a teenaged girl and then a college student, I was kind of digging the fact that worrying about this part of getting your child out of college was going to be easy.

15 years later and a very rocky start to her quest for motherhood, you can only imagine my joy when Christi called me and uttered the simple words, “We have a heartbeat.”

This grandma- to-be literally wept tears of joy and relief for hours.

So it is with great joy and yes a few extra tears wept while writing this, I proudly announce that Grandchild Number 2 will make his/her debut in September 2015!

Purple Socks?

by on Mar 31, 2015 (2) Comments

On Friday February 27th, 2015 at 11:59 a.m., I lost my heart to my first grandson, Tanner.

He was born via C-section weighing in at a whopping 9 pounds 7 ounces.  We all watched through the nursery glass as the nurse weighed him, measured him, scored him and bathed him with what I believe will be his ever faithful sidekick Dad (Chambliss to the rest of us) hovering right over her shoulder the entire time.

The second little Tanner was born, I felt the power shift.  When Jess was a little girl I was in charge of her well-being, now it was Chambliss who took the lead in my little girl’s life.  Now my little girl is a Mommy and I am happy to move into the second row and watch with amusement and amazement as my precious brown eyed girl starts her own adventures into the land of Motherdom.

Jess and Chambliss are the first and last say in everything that goes on with my little Mr. Tanner.  It is their responsibility to decide what is best for their precious little one.  Some would probably see it as an affront to all of their vast years of learning in the arena of parenthood but frankly I see it as a giant relief.  I have already worried my way through 32 years of parenthood, so I am more than happy to pass that gauntlet to the new parents.

One of Chambliss and Jess’ first proclamations as the King and Queen of their new kingdom of Parentdom was that Tanner’s face would not be plastered all over social media.  Okay, for a proud Grandma, this was quite torturous.  In the month after Tanner was born, several of my friends had grandchildren and were posting proud grandparent pictures with reckless abandon and I have to say, even though it is an evil emotion, part of this Grandma was very jealous.

But here is my stand in the Grandma department—I have already raised my kids.  I have sat up nights worrying over all the dangers that could befall my child large and small.  I have dealt with people that not only had their opinions of how I should raise my children but would outright intentionally go against what I said as a parent because it did not fit what they thought should be done.  So here is my pledge to all of my children as they cross the threshold into parenthood—I don’t care what proclamations as King and Queen of your Parentdom you make.  I, as the ever loyal Grandma, will do whatever you ask.  If you believe that your child will be safe from all the dangers of the world by wearing purple socks every day, my only request is that you enlighten me fully on the exact shade so that I can stock up all the drawers in the house so our little ones never go one minute without the full protection they deserve.

With this being said and in light of the fact that I will always be the ever resourceful Grandma, I asked if I could put a picture of Tanner’s foot on my blog for you all to see.  I was rewarded with a YES!!  So let me introduce you to my first precious little grandson Tanner.  And yes, every inch of him is as adorable as his chubby little foot!

Tanner's Tootsies

Motherhood was an amazing adventure for me.  I enjoyed sharing stories of my triumphs and my failures through the years with anyone who would listen.  Now I can’t wait to share my journey into the uncharted territory of Grandmotherhood.

Let the adventures begin!

Three Little Words

by on Jan 22, 2015 (Comments Off on Three Little Words) Comments

There was a time in my life when I was a super hero, at least where my kids were concerned.  I was the brave and fearless Mommy that was always at the ready to banish the monsters that go bump in the night with a fist full of foo foo dust, heal a boo boo with a swiftly placed magic kiss or scoop up all three kids to save them from the thunder monster.  But alas, those days have passed.  My kids are all grown up.  It’s sad to say but gone are the days of simple problems easily fixed with a hand full of foo foo dust or a strategically placed magic kiss.

Sometimes I am sad watching my children struggle through grown up life problems knowing full well there is not a thing I can do to “fix” them.  I have no super powers in the land of adults.  My cape is invisible and my arsenal of magic is ineffective in banishing the real world monsters that traipse through the lives of my children.

In the middle of the day I got a phone call from Jess.  This is not unusual since she and her sister, Christi, call me when they are driving home from work.  The minute I said hello, I knew there was a problem.  My “I’m not a baby” child who would walk on water so that no one would ever say she couldn’t do something had a slight tremor in her voice.

Jess is due to have her first baby in 5 weeks.  For a first time Mom, these are pensive times.  Everything in Jess’ little body is foreign at this point.  Every ache, every pain suspect to its nature.  There is the constant fear that something may be wrong with the baby.  There is the constant fear that labor will come and because she has never done it before, she will not know what is going on until it is too late to make the hour drive to the hospital.  Nightmares of delivering her precious bundle of joy on the side of interstate 24 keeps Jess on high alert at all times.

Jess was having some lower abdominal pain and the doctor wanted her to come in right away.  Chambliss, Jess’ husband and the new father to be, was in a meeting at work and could not get away.  Chambliss made the suggestion that Jess call her Mom.   I dropped the work I was doing and was out the door.  I was waiting for Jess when she pulled in.  As she walked across the parking lot I could tell from her body language she was worried.  When she saw me she straightened her posture.  It reminded me so much of when she was a little girl.  She would be scared or upset but when she saw me she would always stand a little bit taller and raise her chin in defiance—there was no way she was going to let her Mom say she was a baby.

Luckily for little Mr. Tanner, but somewhat unlucky for his Momma the pain was being caused by a bladder infection.  Luckily his grandma got to be there and hear his precious little heartbeat for the first time.  Relieved that nothing was wrong, Jess and I got in our separate cars and drove out of the parking lot.  Jess was relieved that nothing was wrong with her baby.  I was relieved, that even though my baby was a grown woman getting ready to have a baby of her own, that there was nothing wrong with my baby either.

Super Mom

Driving home I smiled to myself.  The kids may have grown out of foo foo dust and magic kisses but three little words made me know that the Super Mom Cape was still on active duty.

“Thank you Mommy.”

The List

by on Dec 24, 2014 (Comments Off on The List) Comments

December  22.  It’s drizzling and cold as I head down the driveway.  I get to the corner and double check for the thousandth time to make sure I still have custody of “THE LIST”.   I have rushed around all morning trying to get ready.  I pulled the 3000 cookies I made three weeks ago out of the freezer.  I dug through the tubs that I brought back from the beach for the 1000 candies that I made while I was there knowing full well that this day was coming.  I put together cookie boxes, lined them with paper and began stacking the homemade treats inside.  Luckily I only have to put together the goodies that are going out of town in this round.  Once this part of the task is accomplished, I run upstairs to gather all the Christmas purchases and pile them on the bed.  Now I cross my fingers and begin to sort, making piles on my fireplace hearth for each person on my list as I go.  I breathe a giant sigh of relief when the last item hits its appropriate stack and I confirm that all presents are here and accounted for.  Ok, except for Dave.  I haven’t actually purchased his Christmas gifts just yet but since we gave each other the pool at the beach house as our gift I figure I can knock out the little things in just a little bit of time and that is exactly what I have left, a little bit of time, so frankly, life is good in Kaeland.

Just as Dave pulls the last of our suitcases out of the back of the car I start filling it up with the boxes and presents that are going to my very much loved ones out of town.  Rushing back into the house I do a quick appraisal of the kitchen, bedroom and back hallway—yep, yep, I have it all.  I jump in the car and check for the list, yep, yep I’ve got the list.  Its 1:00 and now my list says I have to:  Go to the bank (because some people on my Christmas list think cash is always the perfect size and color);  Go to the Dollar Store ( I have thus far neglected to put together the 8 stocking for the kids (yes, I still do stockings but that is a subject for another story all together); Go to Petsmart (last year I was an “on top of it” puppy grandma and made homemade doggie treats shaped like gingerbread men for the pups for Christmas.  This year I am a “running maniac with her hair standing on end” puppy grandma so the out of town puppies will end up with store bought treats shaped like Christmas trees.); Go to Best Buy (very last minute gift); Go to World Market (no stocking is complete in the Allen house without chocolate filled Pandas); Go to Fedex (Thank St. Nick for Fedex.  If it wasn’t for this amazing company there would be no way that these boxes would get to their destination and by Christmas Eve to boot!).

My biggest challenge was the stockings.  I grabbed a cart in the Dollar Store and began tossing in anything I found amusing in multiples of 4 if they were girl or boy things or in multiples of 8 if they were universally funny things.  With no time to run home I lined the back hatch of the car with the bags I was using for stockings this year and began carefully piling my purchases into them.  I garnered more than a few curious glances but who can blame them.  The sight of a little blonde woman with frizzed out hair standing in the rain soaked parking lot muttering to herself as she rummages through bag after bag is something that you just can’t look away from.

 

The List

At ten minutes to 5 I scream into the Fedex parking lot on two wheels.   I jump out of the car and open the back.  It is at this point I realize that with the added purchases along the way I have two boxes completely overflowing with Christmas Cheer.  I close the hatch and run into the building.  Surely Fedex will have boxes that they can sell me at some extraordinary rate that probably have a surcharge attached for those desperate enough to be sending their packages out on December 22nd who also have the nerve to show up without a shipping vessel.  Luckily I was absolutely correct.  There are a myriad of choices in shipping vessels available for a price.  The man that was working the counter was amazingly helpful and within a half an hour I was walking out the door.

When I walked in the back door laden down with takeout food for dinner,  I was walking on cloud nine knowing that I had conquered THE LIST and the packages were safely on their way to our out of town loved ones.  That is until I met my Mother-in-Law in the kitchen and was promptly informed that I had not remembered to get the gifts that she had under the tree to send out with our packages.  Oops, guess what I forgot to put on THE LIST.

Oh, well—Happy Holidays Everyone!  May your days be filled with the merry chaos of family and friends!

Mommy Community Service

by on Nov 22, 2014 (Comments Off on Mommy Community Service) Comments

When the kids began driving, I made it perfectly clear.  I  DO NOT pay for speeding tickets.  Jess, our youngest, was the first to come home with a speeding violation.  Being raised with a Mom that would terrorize you with some awful punishment and a Daddy that would give you a cookie during your time out, Jess quickly sought out her Daddy for help.  She explained the fact that the cop should not have been sitting at the bottom of a hill and therefore the ticket really was not her fault.  With rightful indignation of his daughter’s entrapment by our local’s finest, those two little birds headed off to the courthouse to “take care of it”.  I was not happy.   Dave slyly ended our vigorous argument by saying that he paid for the ticket out of his allowance money and it was his money to spend any way he wanted.

Fast forward a few months and we find Jess, once again, sitting on the side of the road with blue lights flashing in her rear view mirror.  This time, Daddy did not come to the rescue.  Jess, being a lowly college student existing on Ramen noodles and cup of soup obviously did not have a couple hundred extra bucks lying around to shell out for the fine.  Without her Daddy safety net, Jess was stuck having to come to me for the money to pay the ticket.  Needless to say, I was less than thrilled.  I briefly thought about not paying the fine, but even though Jess looks amazing in orange, I wasn’t about to have her sporting a county jump suit just because she was found to be in possession of a lead foot.   So I paid the ticket and sentenced her to Mommy Community Service.

Police car

What, pray tell, is Mommy Community Service?  This is where you take whatever money you have had to expend on a child’s less than responsible behavior then divide it by the current minimum wage (which is what their current job skill level will bring in the open market).  The result is the number of hours the child will have to spend with you doing something that is totally what you want to do such as gardening, going to the plant store, spending hours in the wallpaper store having the child pull the heavy books on and off the shelves as you sit casually perusing their content and my absolute favorite, shopping for household items such as family room furniture, a mirror for over the bathroom pedestal sink and hunting down patio furniture.

Jess just had the fateful luck to pull Mommy Community Service when I was beginning to look for a double chaise lounge for the patio.  Jess and I spent hours scouring every patio furniture shop in Middle Tennessee.  Jess was in charge of taking pictures and keeping copious notes on each piece I found interesting, including manufacturer, dimensions, price and location.  Amazingly just as the final hour ticked off her community service time we went back to the very first shop we went into and I purchased the first double chaise lounge we had seen.

Fast forward five years.  I am headed to the beach house in Florida for a week by myself.  I ask if Jess wants to come down with me for some girl time.  I told her I would be making sure things got done for the new pool we were putting in and it would be great fun to go into Panama City and look for patio furniture.  Her answer was quick and succinct, “Oh, Heck No.”

Oops, I guess she is still traumatized by her stint in Mommy Community Service.