Can I go to a movie?

3pm: Can I go to the movies with friends? On a school night? I didn't think so, but she didn't have have any homework. And no practice.

3:30 pm: I say yes, she starts texting.So at first the movie was for 5 pm down at the AMC. A date with her b-friend and another couple.

4:00 pm :Then, pretty please could we pick up Ashley, who lives near the casino in South Auburn. Umm, you're asking me this at 4 pm. With traffic, we'd have to leave now, so no, I'm not going to become the taxi service now.

4:01 pm: She pouts and begins texting.

4:10 pm: Can we go to a 7:30 pm movie, so when Ashley's bro gets home, HE can take her to the movies. And get out at 10 pm, no you can't. The movie is the same horror movie they saw on the weekend, so we'll be out by 9 pm

4:11 pm. Fine, but once I pick you up at the movies, to bed. And I'm not taking anyone home.

4:12 pm. Oh, didn't I tell you, she says, we're meeting at Regal at the Auburn 17.

4:13 pm. No you're not. I'm not going all the way down and back and then down again. Move this gig to the AMC where it first started in KEnt or no go.

4:14 pm. More glares, more texting.

5 pm: Dad comes home and grumps about letting her go to a movie at all.

5:15 pm. Daughter disappears into room to text.

6 pm. Emerges. The deal is off. From the glare, I'm sure she blames me.

Double dating with the daughter

If you can call it that.

We're going to see Grand Terino or some other movie at the AMC tonight, she's going to hook up with her boyfriend to see some horror flick.

We are not allowed to say hello to said boyfriend (being I'm with Gary, yeah, not going to happen), or engage in conversation at the beginning or end. Oh yeah, but could you please give me some $$ for the movie and snacks?

Yeah, isn't that your date's job?

At this point she rolls her eyes and fluffs off.

Inaug tug-of-war

KISS FM, NPR, KISS FM, NPR.

Click, click, click. That's the way the radio ping-ponged back and forth on the way to high school today, as I wanted to watch, or listen to at least, the inauguration of our 44th pres, and Jennifer wanted to listen to her favorite songs.

"mom! You've watched this on CNN since 5 am, you can take a 15-min. break from it can't you."

Well, I guess.

But after dropping her off, I switched back to 88.5 and then went in to get my teeth cleaned, convincing the assistant to switch to MSNBC on the computer, so at least I could listen to the pre-ceremony while I drooled.

After that, I rushed over to the nearest Starbucks in Kent, where a group of us gathered to watch. Fortunately, the french teacher canceled class, and let the kids watch, where Jennifer started texting me on what everyone was wearing. I couldn't text back fast enough, so she started making fun of me.

Jennifer, watch the inaug and stop texting me on if the girls' outfits match!

She's not going back in the game, until she's ready!

There were at least one f-word at the tip of my tongue as my hubby and I had this discussion last night as Jennifer complained again of headaches, which were probably due to her concussion she sustained about a week ago.

Gary seems to be pushing to get her back in practice and back in the game, and kept asking if we were going to the b-ball game last night. no, we weren't. She did go to her massage therapy session, which after an hour of watching the therapist massage my daughter (since she's under 18, I have to be in on the session) I was ready to muscle my way onto the deck and get a massage myself. Oh well.

I think some of it's daddy guilt, and after discussing it with a friend of mine, some of it is just the "muscle through it" mentality that most men seem to have. The massage therapist agrees, and she suspects that one reason why women live longer (aside from stronger genes and higher body fat and lower stress levels). They don't just muscle through.

Anyway, Jennifer's going back on Monday, so we'll see how she does. Oh, Bad mother, I was supposed to call the doc to see about those headaches she's still having. Will do that now.

He kissed me

This revelation came as Jennifer was leaning on me at the dinner table last night, as I was trying to pay the bills.

Instead of hugs, or sitting on my lap, tho she does sometimes still try to do this, she leans. I finally told her to go finish her homework, or make sure we tivo'd American Idol, or something, but just quit pestering me.

"So I guess you don't want to hear my news," she said.

I considered this. Fine. What is it?

She and her beau had just had their first kiss after practice yesterday. When I asked if tongue was involved, she grimaced. Noooo!

Okay, just checking. I told her that french kissing was an acquired taste in my book, so don't be surprised if when she gets to that stage, the reaction isn't as euphoric. She promised to keep me informed but made me swear NOT to tell dad. As if. No.

Challenge from the daughter

AFter seeing me go back and check my Facebook page for the upteeth time, Jennifer challenged me to keep off Facebook, and twitter for an entire day. I should have challenged her not to text for a day and see if she can do it (:.

But for now, I prob. won't. She got whacked in the back of the head a few days a go, and sustained a concussion during a b-ball game. It was minor, so for two days, I was trying to read the tea leaves of what was wrong with her, until the school nurse called, said yes, it's a concussion and get thee to the docs. Great. Now I'm up for worst mom award, since I"d just been pushing Tylenol on her all this time.

Gads. I had a talk with her coach, saying look, I don't expect you to hold her hand, but if you see her get checked like that again CALL ME. You can't expect a 15 year old to give an accurate description of getting her bell rung. J and Gary were worried I was going to chew on her, but I think it worked out. I didn't chew. But she got the message.

No, we're going home now, before we have to swim home.

That was the basic message I left my daughter last night, as the heavens opened up on Washington and tried to drown us once again, after freezing us last month (didn't that happen last winter as well?)

Gary called from KOMO to say to get out of TAcoma now, since they were talking about closing I5 both directions at Fife. So I did, and called the daughter, to say , sorry, you're not going to be able to go to the wrestling match with your new boy friend. I'm picking you up at 5:30 pm, be outside.

She called back in a huff. She and the friend, Davie, had just done the high school thing of going public, and he started putting his arm around her at lunch, had given her his coat and she wanted to watch him during the match. (he's on the team - short but very muscular).

Soo, I thought, and told her I'd wait outside for about 20 minutes, but then I wanted her to appear, or I'd go find her. That threat apparently worked, and right at 6 pm, she appeared, wearing the treasured guy coat, smelling it (aftershave at 15?) all the way home.

She and her friends are planning on playing up this trist, since I guess there is a cheerleader who likes him, and who hates J for calling her a slut at the beginning of the year (see earlier post). I told her NOT rubbing it in would probably be the most gracious and mature thing she could do. I don't think she's listening.

Who is that sitting beside Jennifer?

This questions was coming from Gary, as we sat across the gym at a recent b-ball game in Auburn. As usual, we pay for her to get in, then she splits from us like we were carriers of the smallpox spores.

After sitting by an old BFF, who has recently be replaced by 2-3 other girls as co-BFs, she landed across the gym from us to watch Auburn girls win a game against a team from Bremerton, I think.

Then J turned her back on her two friends, and started chatting with the guy. Finally, Gary noticed and asked me about him. No clue.

But J filled me in when dad was out of earshot, that yes, this was Davy, and yes she liked him and he liked her, but they weren't going out yet, and certainly hadn't been on a date.

"It's just so difficult to date nowadays" she lamented. At that point dad walked up, so I didn't have a chance to figure out what that meant. In fact, wasn't that what you were just on, unofficially?

Having a text-free dinner

It actually happened last night, as my daughter's cell phone ran out of juice. Suddenly, she wasn't hunger and wanted to be dropped off back home. Then the real reason comes out. Her cell phone is dead and she can't text during dinner like she usually does.

Gary take advantage of the fact he's driving, we're already on the way to the restaurant - the golden steer, so we're all in jeans - and says "no way." She's just going to have to, gasp, talk to us.

After much grumbling and pleading, she gives up, but swears she wont' share any of her dinner with us. She orders an entire prime rib dinner, and ends up eating most of it. And yes, she actually does talk to us this time.

Homework? Yeah, guess I"d better do that.

After 2.5 weeks out of school, Jennifer announced she has some homework she has to finish this weekend. Great. So when Gary and I clean up the house tomorrow - getting the rest of the needles out - she'll be reading and doing a book report on the Odyssey.