It's been a week of...
Too smart for her britches, unfathomably intelligent, and yet completely and utterly BRAINLESS at the same time. Brilliantly talented. Passionate, faithful, beautiful, authentic. Brutally honest. Wacky. Whacked. Defensive, argumentitive, beligerent. Spoiled and self-centered. So much like me it thrills me and terrifies me at the same time. And yet.... so different from me that it amazes and mezmerizes me. And terrifies me. lol
This daughter of mine... such a gift.
She writes more eloquently at 16 than I do at 38.
She's more comfortable in her skin than I've EVER been in mine.
She's got my buttons memorized... knows which ones to push and when to push 'em, and she's a persistent button pusher, too.
She trusts me.
She enjoys me, likes being with me,
and what's more,
I enjoy her, too.
Although, there are days when I contemplate leaving her bags on the curb with a note that says, "Stick a fork in me, I'm done. Good luck. I hear that Chili's is hiring. With affection, your Mother."
She once wrote on her own blog, about me:
"She's made me laugh harder than anyone, and cry more often than anyone."
It hasn't escaped me that I can write the same about her now.
She knows herself - knows her limitations, knows her heart, knows how to balance it all, but also knows how to fool herself into thinking she's got a better handle on life than she really does.
She's not afraid to ask for help, not afraid to tell someone else when they need it, not afraid to say she's sorry, not afraid to end a toxic friendship, not afraid of your opinion, not afraid to piss you off, not afraid to say she loves you.
She's been dating Brian for 1 year.
I, like every Mom, have dreams for my daughter. I, like every Mom, know that one bad choice can lead to another bad choice, to another and another, until those dreams become vapors on the wind. I can't make Dani's rules for her anymore. I mean, I can. But she's sixteen. She knows how to break rules and how to hide that she did it. I wasn't such a good kid as most people thought, see. I was just The Master of knowing how to fool Mom and Dad. I want so much more for - and from - Dani. And so she's had to come to understand that my guidelines and rules are meaningless until she buys into them herself. Wait. Maybe it's ME who had to come to that understanding.
Whatever. What matters is, I think we've reached that point. I asked her and Brian to come up with their own rules.... rules that no one can enforce but them. Rules that they're ready to buy into. Rules that matter to THEM as much, or more, as they matter to me.
What matters more is this: She's God's. I used to tell her as she left the house, "Don't just be good. Be God's." (Heard that from Rich Mullins, the late singer/songwriter.) Tonight, I'm singing a song on her behalf.... "She's Yours, Lord. Everything she is, and everything she's not. She's Yours, Lord, try her now and see. See if she can be completely Yours." It takes a lot of faith to raise a teenager. My faith stores have been depleted as of late. But it's been raining all week; the drought is over.
Oh - about those rules. Here they are, posted with Dani's permission.
Crack me UP. I love that kid, Dani.
Love her, love her, love her!
By the legal and binding power bestowed upon me by no one in particular, but
rather by self-declaration, I do hereby forbid the following activities as
specified by the Parental Units and by God Almighty, as dictated by his
servant Paul in the decree of I Corinthians, section 7, lines 12-20:
I. No below the belt. If there is no belt present, the belly button shall be
the deciding factor.
II. No under the clothing.
III. No off with the clothing, unless, in a gentlemanly manner, the male subject offeres to take the female's jacket.
IV. No horizontal kissing. ('Nuf said.)
V. No horizontal ANYthing. In case of any question, a protractor will be procured to
ensure any angle of togetherness is well above 45°.
VI. No touching of any articles covered by undergarments. These are specified as the following:
a. the "hoo-ha"
b. the "tallywhacker"
c. the "ta-tas"
VII. No sex. Duh.
On the 16th day of August in the year of our Lord, 2007, the following
signatures do hereby confirm this document as legally binding and signify
their acceptance of any consequences that should come in the case of the
breaking of this oath.
Here's hoping for no immense pain this week, and a little less Monster Mom. (Bring on the hugs and kisses, and a little more random silliness, please!)