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My neice, Maya, comes in from the backyard yelling, “Holden said a naughty word!!”   I ask if it was “shit”.  She says “yes”.  Holden comes in trailing on her heels saying, “NO I DIDN’T SAY THAT!  I said the Eff Word!”

Well, oh.  Der.

Some kids were calling him names and quite honestly, the damn kids had it coming to him.  I kinda wish he’d have cocked his arm back and nailed the vile little creatures in the mouth!  Instead, he calls then Effing Idiots.

Which, okay…don’t say that, okay buddy?  Come get your mom, and I will inihilate them.  With my fury.  And, also, my fists!

Then the other day we were wrastlin’ around and I landed on him.  He grabs his leg, writhing in pain and says, “Holy Shit!”

I looked at him that way, and the writhing stopped immediately.  He knew what was coming.  I told him if he couldn’t control his potty mouth then I was gonna buy a bar of soap.  Cure this the old fashioned Christmas Story way.  That’d teach him.

But the thing is this: he told me.  He said it In Front Of Me.  To my face.  He’s not sneaking off and swearing at school.  He’s keepin’ it in the family.  So while I want this language to stop, and while I make a point of not swearing in front of him at all, I’m very happy that he’s honest and willing to bear the consequences from me because he knows that I lack any kind of punishment skills whatsoever I love him regardless.

This led to a deep discussion with Gabe (formerly Big Hands, currently Ex-Husband Who No Longer Deserves a Kitschy Nick Name) about our new roles as Parents Parenting a Child in Two Different Homes.

This is not gonna be easy.  We have different ways.  Ways that made sense when we were together, as we balanced each other, but now are things that just make you wonder if you are Doing It Right.

We are.  We will.  This will work because we will make it work.  Because it is different now, and because we will have to compensate for each other.  Even when we are only one phone call away.

Holden will swear.  He’ll probably rage sometimes, too.  But, really?  He’d probably do that if we all lived under the same roof.  It’s neither of our faults that he swore.  His potty mouth has little to do with how we are raising him.  I don’t know where it came from, but I doubt its because his parents are divorced and he has a black hole in his heart.

Who knows where these kids come up with stuff…

They have their own fucking little minds, and shit’s just gonna spout out of it some times, right?  Get off their asses!


Don’t get me wrong, here.  I came undone.  I walked around this house with a puffy face and puffy eyes for two solid weeks.  I had to cry at night and in the bathroom and then get it together so Holden wouldn’t see me.  I had to scream into pillows and go for car rides so that Holden wouldn’t hear me.  I all but begged BH to change his mind.  Ok.  I begged a little in the beginning.

He’s always been prone to a little depression every now and again.  He’d get into these little funks that would last a couple of days.  He’d feel sorry for himself that he wasn’t living this amazing life that he always thought he’d live.  And, I would always just let him work it out, because, wah, okay?  Grow up.  No one is living the life they thought they’d live!  We are living the lives we HAVE.  Make the most of it!  We have a pretty stinkin’ Good Life, too.

But, he couldn’t get himself out of this last little funk.  And, he’s completely convinced himself that we are together out of obligation to Holden.  Which, der, okay?  I will be the first to admit that there is no way in hell I’d still be with this guy if we hadn’t gotten pregnant.  (This is what’s really killing me about BH right now; he thinks he owns the market on Epiphanies…)  I got bored when I was dating.  I’d find someone cuter than you sooner or later.  I was just biding my time til the next one. 

But, then we DID get pregnant.  It was really hard for those first few years.  I don’t think either of us really liked each other.  Then?  We did.  It really felt like we fell in love.  It was better, too, because we really had to work at it. 

Apparently I roll with the punches a little better than BH, though.  Because I guess that’s not where BH was in all of these TEN YEARS we’ve been together.

He really feels that he’s got to “be true to himself” and “be honest with me”. 

Jeepers.  Thanks.  How very big of you to ruin my life and try to take Holden down with you.

But, you know what?  Holden will be fine.  He will be fine because I will be fine.

My sister Rachael, who has been through two divorces, wishes I was a little angrier with BH.  Wishes I’d really get mad and be a total bitch.  That’s not me.  I know BH isn’t doing this to be mean or vindictive.  He’s doing it because he’s a total selfish man (and by man, I mean Prick) who can’t get his head out of his ass.  I knew this about him when I married him though.

SO.  I cannot afford this house without him.  He totally offered to give me money enough to cover the mortgage if I wanted to stay here.  But, there are also other bills.  Like heat and stuff.  And, I work a part time job.  Which, I am not going to give up because I love to be home with Holden.  That’s where I belong.  Especially now.

Here’s what Imma gonna do: Move in with Dad.  But, not really.  My parents and grandparents built a house together (like a duplex) when I was in high school.  When I was getting ready to come home from college, my grandparents built an apartment in the basement.  I’m going to live there.  Holden and I.

And, you know what?  I’m not going to spend any time lamenting moving home.  The Japanese live this way their whole lives.  The whole fam damily lives together.  Right now, I need to be in the bosom of those who love me the most. Plus, they’ll be no rent!

Its going to be a fine little adventure for Holden and I to have.

Finally, I will be able to put the artwork I want to on the walls.  Finally, I’ll be able to listen to The Village on XM radio all I want to.  Finally, I’ll have the kitten I want.  I’ll be able to leave town without worrying about what I’m going to do with the dog!  (Though I will miss her terribly.)

We are going to try to do week on, week off custody.  We’ll see how Holden likes that.  The good thing about that is I get out of work at 3:30 every day, so I’ll still pick him up every single day.  Even on Daddy’s week.  It wouldn’t be fair to put him in aftercare on BH’s weeks.  So, I’ll still get to see him every day.

It sucks.  This whole thing is ridiculous and stupid.  Though, part of me can’t wait to see this dude live on his own.  He hasn’t cooked himself a meal or washed his own clothes in 10 years.  I refuse to be bitter.  I’ve known him for all these years.  I know him better than he knows himself.  I’m not going to stop being his friend.  He’s a moron.  I also knew that when I married him.

Plus, depression doesn’t look good on me.  I just don’t wear it well.  I gotta just pick myself up by my bootstraps because I’ll be damned if I’m going to teach my son that women have to fall to pieces without men.  Nor am I going to teach my son that a marriage has to be loveless.  Our kids learn relationships from their parents.  I’m going to try not to eff that one up.

Those of you that know me will know that I have a pretty laid back parenting style (that is until that kid pisses me off).  I don’t really make Holden do anything.  Other than piano.  We MAKE him take piano.  But, I know that as a parent you only get so many battles, and I’m saving all of mine up for when he’s a teenager.  Its at that point I think I’ll really shine as a parent.  I look forward to buying him his first car!  So I can take it away from him…bwaaahahahahah!!!

And, don’t try to burst my bubble, here, okay?  I live for 16.

Anyhoodle…Holden, until recently, didn’t really have any “chores”.  Mostly because, really?  How big of a mess can one kid make?  And, I like to pick things up to ensure they go back in the right bin.  And, if I ask him to take care of something, he rarely gives me any resistance.  He’s pretty easy going, too.

One day I just got sick of unloading the dishwasher.  Simply?  I HATE taking the dishes out of that machine.  I’d rather just wash them by hand and take care of them.  Alas, I am too lazy for that, too.  So, I said, “Buddy?  Your new job is to empty the dishwasher.”  He said, “Okay.”  Too easy.

This is how Holden takes care of the dishes.  Wrongly.  And, I know this is my  hang-up, I do.  I am just really particular about which compartment the big spoons and little spoons go in.  That is to say they both have their own compartment, and, gee wouldn’t it be great if they actually ended up there?  Same goes for the forks.  And?  The pots go on that side of the cupboard; the tupperware goes there.

But, he’s only nine.  So I don’t actually SAY these things to him.  Well, I have mentioned the silverware once or twice.  Or thrice.  And then I may have mentioned that I was sick of mentioning it and to get it right, already!  And, he may have told me that he would remember it a little easier if there weren’t SO MANY forks and spoons!  Gosh!

But, at least I’m not doing the work.  I can’t wait til I feel he is old enough to deal with chemicals, and his butt will be totally cleaning the bathrooms!  Yahoo!

I AM so lucky to have a kid like Holden.  He is one funny dude.  Until he is not.  Then he’s a total pain in the butt.  Those days are, luckily, far and few between.  Its so easy to forget how good you’ve got it. 

I try to remember and be grateful for my family every day.  This little nest we three have created for ourselves.  Its easy to take it for granted…Especially when your husband scores ONE ticket to see the Candidate at the University tomorrow, and does not get you a ticket, or try very hard to get you a ticket, at least, because, what? its not like you aren’t so very passionate about this candidate that seeing him in person could very well change your life…Yes, yes.  Its easy to lose sight of the bigger picture which is that everyone is healthy, and for the most part; happy (especially Big Hands).

And most importantly?  The dishwasher is emptied.  Well, that, AND that there are no wire hangers…

Its been said to me on more than one occasion that my marriage to Mr. Big Hands is non-conventional.  It is, I guess, a little different than some of my friends marriages.  BH and I aren’t up each others butts all the time.  We do a lot of things without each other.  We don’t have a joint checking account.  He pays all the bills, I buy the groceries.  That’s just how we roll.

People don’t always get that.  People don’t always get my husband.  BH is aloof a lot of the time.  I don’t think its a conscious thing…he just IS Aloof.  He’s quiet until you get to know him, but really?  You’ll never know him unless he thinks you are worth knowing.  That’s just how he rolls.

BH said to me the other night that he wished that everything wasn’t always just hunky dory with me.  He wishes that he knew I wanted to be better.  Like a better mother, a better human, a better voter, a better all around Me.  I told him to wish in one hand…I don’t think that way.  I think I am a good mother.  I could firm up a bit, but I’m pretty happy with me.  And, this year, I’m being a better voter.  But, I don’t dwell.  That’s just not how I roll.

We just do things a little differently.  We are different people.  We are polar opposites.  I told him that’s why we work so well together.  That’s what makes us so compatible and our differences will be what Holden appreciates as he gets older.  He is a realist.  I am a wild eyed idealist.  He reigns me in a little.  I let him be a little freer so he can do stuff like  this. ***

And, should you choose to actually listen to it, that is actually my husband.  You should know, he grew up in Detroit, and takes all this controversy to heart. 

That’s just how he rolls.

***Edited to add:  The above music is rated “r”.  Lots of Eff Words.  Its a rap, for cryin’ out loud!

When I was a kid we used to watch Soap Operas.  My mom worked days and my dad worked nights (still does, actually…) so we were home with our dad for a while til he went to work.  He likey the Soaps.  Especially Young and the Restless and Bold and the Beautiful.

I don’t watch them anymore.  Not since I left home.  Saying that makes me think that you might think that I actually left my home…I just moved out.  You know…because I was a big girl and stuff.  But I do occasionally listen to them on the radio when I go pick up Holden from school.  I listen to Guiding Light.  Because that is whats on at that time.  I love listening to the Soaps on the radio.  Love it.  I have no earthly clue what these people look like.  Except for Allan Spaulding, Reva and Josh.  I have no idea whats actually going on either.  Really?  I just like to hear them kiss.  Its absolutely disgusting.  Sounds like tongues sloshing around.  I hope I don’t sound like that when I kiss BH.  Because its gross.

Still, even though I only am half paying attention, and don’t have any real interest in the plots, I do find myself siding with the people that I have known pretty much all of my life.  Reva and Josh are right.  Will is a nasty little boy who should be put down.  When will Cassie realize this?

My youngest sister is pregnant.  Again.  Fourth Child, third baby daddy.  I mean, really.  Her life IS a soap opera.  I’m really just waiting for The Boyfriend to come out and tell us that he really is his own sister’s father because he had a brain transfusion from their dad.  Or something as equally weird.

Four kids!  I can’t even believe it!  It astounds me!

Still.  I find myself a bit jealous…even though the circumstances are a little less than ideal.  Her tummy will grow bigger.  Not mine.  She will have another little baby.  Not me.  I hope its a boy because that’s what I would want.  And, I hope she names him Jack Henry.  Because that is also what I would do.  I find that to me?  Her pregnancy has very little to do with her and her situation, and more to do with me, and my lack of a situation.

In reality, I am super glad that I only have one kid.  And, really, I don’t even want another one.  I am perfectly happy with the decisions that I’ve made.  But every time someone I know tells me they are pregnant a little part of me wonders…

And, then I wake up and remember what a drag it is to haul your ass out of bed at 2a.m. to feed a crying baby.  And, how babies can’t say anything or walk for, like…EVER.  And the diapers and the formula and the baby food.  Gah!!

So, good luck, Sister Rach.  These, I guess, are actually the days of YOUR life!  Sucker.

My neice and nephew go to the private school my sisters and I went to when we were growing up.  This school is part of my church.  This is a school I would never ever send my kid to ever.  Ever.

ANYWAY…the kids had their Christmas Program tonite, and it was cute, blah blah blah.  Kids singing is always cute.  What I’m getting at here is that after church, my grandfather leaned down to Holden and said, “Do you like to sing?  Because I heard you singing and you did a really great job Buddy!  I have some song books that I had when I was about your age.  I still have them.  And, I want to give them to you because you are a great singer!”  This touched me.  Everything touches me.  I am a ball of emotion.  And, Holden does have the voice of a thousand angels.  He really does.  I’m not just saying that because he’s my kid.  The kid has a knack for music…

My grampa is 72 today.  I realize how lucky I am to have such a young family.  I’ve only ever known my mom’s parents as my dad’s died long before he ever met my mom.  And, both my Gramma and my Papa are healthy.  Though this whole thing with my mom is really taking a toll on them.

I’ve always called my grampa “Papa”.  Even now that I know better.  Thats just his name.  I can’t help that.  My grandparent’s story is THE typical story of the ’50s.  She was the head cheerleader, he the captain of the football team.  He gave up a scholarship to the University of Michigan to marry my Gramma.  She stayed home with the babies and made Papa’s lunch every morning.  He got a job at GM when you didn’t need a college degree to be an engineer.  Every night when he got home from work she asked him how his day was, dear.  After church at Sunday dinner she would ask him who he talked to this morning, dear.

I wanted to BE them.  I wanted to BE her.  And, I am.  And, I did end up marrying the strong silent type…ish. 

That interaction between my son and his GREAT grandfather was all too precious to me.  I just wanted to get that down for posterity.

I was shopping in the Walmarts today and I drooled on myself.  I’m not really sure how in the hell that one happened, but it did.  One minute I’m bending over to pick up some Cheezits, and the next, I’m slurping spittle back into my mouth.  What’d you expect me to do?  Spit on the Walmarts floor?  I spit on YOU!!

I bought my Gramma one of those new Tickle Me Elmo gadgets for Christmas.  It will tickle ME watching her tickle HIM!  Trust me.  This gift will be killer.

I also bought my mom a locket.  She has bought her daughters lockets and will put her picture in them and we will get them when she’s gone.  This is morbid.  It makes my skin crawl, I’m not gonna lie.  I didn’t really know what to buy her for Christmas.  So I decided to get her a locket and put a picture that I really love of the two of us in it.  I will then bury it with her.  And, I also told this story to the jewelry counter girl at the Walmarts.  Had she not made me stand there so long waiting for her to acknowledge me while she tried on a myriad of watches, I wouldn’t have bothered telling the story.  But, she pissed me off, and I wanted to make her pay.  Nothing like a little dose of death to do the trick.

The locket is silver with a pink rosy thing on it and its engraved with “forever in my heart”.  I think this, also, will be a stellar gift.  I’m on a roll.

And, with nothing really to segue into this:  My dog really likes to dominate.  If you are sitting on the couch, she will come and put her paws on either shoulder and just stand there with her chest in your face.  I can’t figure out if she just wants her belly rubbed, or if she wants to play-fight.  Either makes her happy.

I’ve found, recently, that she really likes it when you pretend to bite her while she is pretend biting you.  So, I do it.  Sure, I come out with a mouth full of dog hairs, but she’s having the effing time of her life.  She play-bites my arm, I play-bite hers.  Oh, and you also have to growl.  But, she really doesn’t like a real sounding growl.  If I really growl like her, she looks around to see what in the hell that was.  She likes a fake sounding growl.  So, I do it.

I’m obviously spending way to much time with Dharma.

But, really?  Who could blame me?

tap, tap.  Hey, Internets, Its me Jennifer.  You still out there?

GAAAAAAAAAAD.  The cable guy just left my house.  I had to hold myself back from making mad passionate love to him for giving my connection to the Outer Limits back to me.  Funny thing?  I went to high school with the cable fixer guy.  Thanks, Matt.  YOU are a peach.

I don’t know where to start.  Its been so long, so I’ll start now, and go backward.


The conversation I had with my husband last night went something like this:

Me: Did you read that Herman Hesse book Demian?
BH: Yeah.  I used to be really into Hesse (except he pronounces it right…)  Didnt you ever read Sidhartha?
Me: No.
(and then he really just goes on and on about how that book is a classic, and I tell him that I didnt read a lot of the classics until I was much older, and really, I dont like the classics all that much.  I even really almost HATE Dickens with all his blathering and dreariness.  With this he agrees with me wholeheartedly…but STILL!  How could I, an avid reader, NOT have read these books??!!  Oh the agony.  Oh the humanity!  And, while I have all this time, I really should go to the library and read every book ever written which he considers “great”.)
Me: Yeah.  I dont really like Borrowing books.  Not really my style.
Me:  Huh?  I dont “hate” the library.  I just…what if I LIKE the book?  What if I LOVE it?  I cant keep it!  Id have to go buy it and then never re-read it, and there it would sit on the bookshelf unloved!  Plus, I dont really like the time constraints. 
Me: Books are like a photo album to me.  The books that I keep, I can remember all parts of them, and have left a good chunk of my soul in each one.  I can remember how I felt after finishing every one of those books on my bookshelf.  I like that about reading.  Like when I read Johnny Got His Gun for the first time…I read it in one day while I was laying in YOUR bed waiting for you to get home from class/work.  I bawled.  Its a keepsake.
Me: Bah.

Okay, so some of the words in this presentation have been changed to protect the innocent (i.e. me), but really.  He did get all worked up because I’ve never read 1984.  And, okay.  I DO want to read it, I just havent yet.  Cripe, buddy!  Has he ever read the complete works of Shakespeare?  Or just one work?  Or ee cummings?  Or Leaves of Grass?  Yeah, no.  So shove it.   


I AM reading Demian by Hermann Hesse right now (because I finished Killing Yourself to Live by my one and only, Chuck Klosterman.  Really Chuck.  Lets you and I get together…I mean, Im done with the drugs and all, but we could really be friends).  And, already, Ive found a few sentences that spoke to me.  They are as follows:

I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people.  I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question the stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.”

And this immediately made me think of my own Christianity.  Which is kind of funny if youve read the book, but will be completely UNfunny, if you have no background info.  But its not ha-ha funny, more of a a-ha type funny.

Essentially, the above quote IS me.  This is the reason why I am such a believer.  And, I dont just mean God, either.  I mean everything.  I do still seek, but there is just so much to know, I find that if I let my soul do the walking, I learn so much more.  And, thusly, can accept so much more, because my heart is open.  Wide open.  Thank God, too.  Because I honestly do not know if I could get through all this hell with my mom if I didnt have faith.

I remember having so much more to say about that, but, I think Im done there; lest I get too verbose.


What a blast we had!  Everyone always asked how my mom did.  She was FINE.  We wheeled her around everywhere.  She road Splash Mountain, and we got in a lot of the rides a hell of a lot sooner as we, as a whole…thanks to mom, were “handicapped”.  HOWEVER, my father should have had a wheelchair!

My mom and dad had to drive since her Doctors wouldn’t allow my mother to fly.  Somewhere in Kentucky, Daddio took a spill.  It was slippery, see.  And, Dad was wearing his Crocs.  Let me interrupt myself here by saying, My dad is a bit eccentric.  You dont see many 60 year old men wearing Crocs.  You also dont see very many 60 year old men wearing knee lenghth leather tie up moccasins either, but this does not stop my dad.  See, he is part Indian (the feather kind), and he likes to “hunt silently like his People”.  Thus, the mocs.  And as for the Crocs?  I just dont know…But anyhoodle, he fell and hurt his hip.  He limped around all four Disney parks.  God bless him.  And, would NOT get a chair.  Because (here we go again) he was sitting in my mothers chair once when she was inside a store, and “a damn vet saluted me.  I was so embarrased, I dont need a damn chair with people saluting me.”  Why did the damn vet salute him, you ask?  How could the damn vet possibly have known that my dad was a damn vet, too?  Why that is because he wears a hat with VIETNAM VETERAN on the front with every imaginable pin commemorating every MIA, POW, Purple Heart whathaveyou.  Der, dad.  I think youve kind of earned the right to be saluted every once in a while.

Disney really is a magical place, though.  Even Big Hands had a great time.  I believe the word to use is “happy”.  It really gave me hope that his inner child is not as buried as I had thought he was.

Holden had fun, the cousins had fun, the Nana and the Papa had fun, the Greats had fun, the uncles and aunts had fun.

Rained every damn day, but what are ya gonna do?


Ive been home for a week now.  During the day.  Home!  The laundry is almost done which was my project for the day.  The floors are shiny, the dust is dusted, the bathrooms have been sprayed.  I love this staying home thing.  Its the most awesomeness ever.

I am going to my moms about twice a week (or that is the plan anyway).  She is getting rid of things, which is depressing if you think about it, so I choose not to.  Hospice came in and we got all signed up for that.  She is well, though.  She is good.  She is still free to roam about at her leisure.  She just wont roam for very long.  Or…maybe she will.  Who knows.  We are all just trying to do what we can.  Be by her side.  Take her wherever she wants to go.  Talk about death for longer periods of time than we would like…whatever makes her happy.

Im just a seeker, here, trying to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.

Everybody’s got an acronym these days.  Is there one for working mothers?  I have to admit, I have not done my research on this, so if there IS, its obviously not widely used, or I would have used it by now.

But, around these parts, you see alot of SAHMs.  As a working mother I am at once jealous of you, and chagrinned at the thought.  Though, I know you not.

I hate that you have an acronym.  I am jealous that you get to stay at home with your kids all day.  You get the mid morning hug.  You get to play Totally Gross whenever you want to.  Maybe you bake cookies and bread.  Maybe you send your kid to his room because he is being a Big Snotface.  In my head I see you doing this.  And, I turn green with envy.

But, staying at home with Holden is something that I fantasized about when he was young.  Now that he is almost eight and in school full time, I just don’t think it would be as fun as it would have when he was two.  And, there is no way we could have afforded ourselves had I stayed home when Holden was little.  Now that we can, he wants to be elswhere.

I’m very lucky that I have a job at a place that is very Family First.  Holden has a field trip?  I am there.  He’s pukey sick, please come pick him up?  Done. 

That is a big reason why I love my job so much.  Not more than my kid, but A Whole Bunch.  And, I really don’t feel like Holden has missed out.  Me either.  He’s a social butterfly.  He gets irked if I pick him up “too early”.   MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!  Why are you heeeeeere so early?
Makes me feel like a million bucks, I tell you!

So, I want an acronym.  I’ve given this some thought.  Working Outside the Home Mom; a WOHM, if you will (I like to pronounce it like womb.  Doesn’t that sound all warm and cozy?  Like we are the CRUX of humanity?!!  Yes!)
Or even just Outside the Home Mom; an OHM.  I know this is a unit of electrical resistance.  (I am one hot little Mama.)  But, I prefer to think of it like the Om you say at the end of Yoga Class. But with an H.


Holden is an only child.  Only children are experiences unto themselves (and myselves!!).  I love having an only child, but I think that we, as parents of an only child, forget that he just can’t do everything with us!

This is the conversation I had with my son last night right before bedtime:

Holden: Pokemon, Pokemon, blah blah blah Jiggelypuff, Pokemon, Pudge Rodriguez, Pokemon.  And, then, when you get older?  You get to Long Kiss people.

Me: Wha???

Holden:  (hands cupped, mouth open, coming in for the kiss)  Like this.  Long Kissing.

Me: (hand in front of my mouth) Yeah, you cannot Long Kiss your mom, though, Buddy!

H: Why not?

Me:  Because we are family.  You can’t Long Kiss your relatives.  Where’d you see this Long Kissing anyway?

H: Smallville.

Me:  Great.  You still cannot Long Kiss your family.

H: You Long Kiss Daddy!

This went on for a while.  I told him that you will go to jail if you French Kiss your cousin, okay?  Because its illegal (in most states).  I told him you can’t even Long Kiss someone until you were at least 16 years old.  Or else, you know, you could go to jail.

Because see?  You think you will not have to have these conversations with your child until he is older.  MUCH older.  Like 42.  But, they are growing up faster these days.  Faster than I did, for sure.  I didn’t even get my first kiss until I was almost 16. 

They see more than we did because they are exposed to more media than we were.  Which, of course, makes me feel like a poor mother.  Obviously, I let my son watch Smallville with me, and now, I am regretting that decision. 

I ‘m not kidding myself.   He would see it somewhere else.  And, really, I am not opposed to Holden seeing people kiss.  BH and I kiss all the time.  I am just opposed to having to talk to my eight year old about kissing.  With tongues. 

The things these kids see on tv now a days.  Even watching the news!  You have to keep your index finger hovering above the mute button.  Holden once had a playmate over for the day, and this kid asked me if I was sad about Anna Nicole Smith.

There are a couple of things wrong with that, but the most disturbing one is that a SEVEN year old BOY knew WHO she was!

I know life would be easier without tv.  But, I love that thing.  I NEED that thing.  I want to Long Kiss that thing.

I guess its a good thing I’m at least 16 years old.