The ACT

There’s something we’ve been avoiding at all costs in this house. And by ‘we’, I mean me. And by avoiding, I mean every time my older child brings up the subject, I sigh, and shake my head, and leave the room as quickly as physically possible.

It’s time for my older son, who is a junior in high school, to take the ACT for the first time. Of course, he needs parental assistance to register for the ACT. This assistance is problematic, however, because it requires me to accept the fact that in roughly 20 months, I will be escorting my child to his college of choice in order for him to begin his freshman year.

Oh? You’ve never felt the urge to hide behind the couch in an effort to avoid your teenage son and his repeated requests to sign up for a standardized test? I feel sorry for you…

Note from J: He would like to remind all involved at this time that we are very fortunate in the fact we convinced K to complete his senior year, even though he will have enough high school credits to graduate on the college prep track at the end of this year.

The other night, I could no longer refuse him. It was the deadline for him to register for the December sitting of the ACT. The time was now; I had procrastinated all I could, so he and I sat down in front of the computer to fill out the registration and questionnaires together.

And by together, I mean he did all of it while I sat there and sighed and made pitiful-looking faces in his general direction. Well, until the point where I began to question all of my parenting choices and wonder at the level of damaging weirdness I appear to have passed along to my son. The moment of this transition occurred rather quickly; the first warning signs presented itself during the process of creating a login. Let me give you a few examples:

The Login: K decides against my advice to pick something very easy to remember (because how often are we going to actually use this login? Please, for the love of all things good, let’s not have to use this login more than two or three times, okay?) for his login and decides to go with something more amusing to him—DeathDevilCatz666.* He giggles like a small child while typing this in. I begin to wonder if a user’s account login is part of the score report that is sent to the schools he will later choose…

Institutional Preferences: Despite listing himself as male in the basic demographic data section, the questionnaire allows him to select that he would prefer to attend an all-female school for college (as opposed to co-ed or all-male). I don’t blame this one on him as much as I do the company that administers the ACT. Folks, you are dealing with adolescent boys here. Did you think this wouldn’t happen time and again?

Ethnicity: It has become apparent that the standard response J and I always give the boys about ethnicity in an effort to promote tolerance for all people (“Ah, we’re mutts. We probably have a little bit of everything in us!”) has been taken in the most literal sense as my son clicks every ethnicity option available to him, including ‘other’.  Again, I blame the questionnaire more than my son on this option. Firstly, why do allow all of the options to be selected? There’s like, 30 options! And what do you really mean by ‘other’? When you have 30 options previous to the ‘other’ at the bottom of the question, the only things that could remain as potential ‘others’ are panda bear and alien!

The Picture: Long gone are the days of ACT registration where you filled out a half-page form in the counselor’s office at school, and threw twenty bucks at them. Oh, no. In addition to the questionnaires that took roughly 15 hours to answer, you now must upload a picture of the test-taker, to be compared to both their physical appearance and their photo ID, on test day. This is an effort curb any impropriety by those who may be swayed into having a smart kid take the test for them. That’s fine; I understand your reasoning and this is a very simple request. That being said, dear company, you are dealing with adolescent males, and you should expect a certain level of shenanigans when it comes to the selfie taken on the phone or computer and uploaded for identification purposes on test day. And why, WHY would you even consider posting that photo to the score reports you send to their selected schools? The urge to be original/creative/creepy/humorous in a way that only appeals to other teenage boys becomes overwhelming to the young males in question, and you WILL get the oddest selfies taken by humans. I took no less than 56 pictures of my son making some of the oddest faces known to man. Seriously, some of these poses will haunt my dreams for years to come. Why did he feel the urge to throw his head back, shrink his neck (how does he even do this? Is my child some type of constrictor?) to virtual nonexistence, and stick out the tip of his tongue? Why does he feel the need to take a photo of himself demonstrating exactly how wide a human being’s eyes can open? Why did he feel the need to wear an ugly Christmas sweater in the photo (the sweater in question features a cat, and says “Meowy Christmas” on it)? WHY? I finally selected a slightly blurry photo that only ranked at about 42% on the creepiness scale when I lost all parental authority and doubled over in stomach-pain-inducing laughter for so long I was afraid the registration was going to time out and we would have to start the 15 hour process all over again.

There are several things I learned from this registration experience, but two items are significant enough to note here. First and foremost, there is no doubt that this is, in fact, MY child, and obviously, all the weirdness I thought I had handily hidden away in the recesses of my mind where no one can see has been quietly seeping out, unbeknownst to me, in ways that my children have been able to observe and model.  Second, and I don’t know how I am going to accomplish this quite yet (thank goodness I still have some time), I am going to need to be better prepared when it’s actually time to apply to the colleges themselves and to financial aid. I have a feeling it’s going to involve copious amounts of wine.

*That’s not his actual login. I have substituted a login name made up by me. I cannot actually match the oddness of his login. This feels important to note.

Let Me Paint You a Mental Image…

Recently, a person I enjoy very much asked me how I ‘really’ was these days. I told her the truth—I am no longer capable of responding to external stimuli in an appropriate fashion. She quickly quipped back, “So, you’re vacillating between laughing at the wrong time and craving to tell people to go eff themselves?”

Yep, that sounds about right. Especially on the whole laughing at the wrong time thing. Although, the more I think about it, the more I’ve come to realize that even though terribly sad things are at the forefront of my life right now, it doesn’t mean I cannot laugh.

Especially when Ant’s Spring Pictures bring much humor… Picture Day, version 2.0-spring, was last week and all of a sudden, the child who would much prefer to have his picture taken with his Green Lantern shirt on (TWO years in a row. Hey, I don’t fight it—I want to remember them as they actually were) was laying out a dress shirt on his bed.

A dress shirt.

This is the boy who could only be convinced to wear a dress shirt to J’s cousin’s wedding if we let him wear the very visible Superman shirt underneath it.

Okay, so we got a dress shirt out. Wait. We have Levis, a red and black t-shirt, a tan and blue button-down shirt, and a ratty, brown hoodie sweatshirt. These were the clothes he laid out on his bed right before he went and VOLUNTARILY took a shower…

Huh. Okay. Whatever floats your boat, kid. I’ve always enjoyed using your pictures as a conversation point with family. Namely, when your Nana calls into question my parenting ability…

Now you may think that this; a ten year old boy exploring some type of fashion sense—in and of itself—is pretty damn funny, but then again, you didn’t see the resultant pictures. I cannot even show you the proof—Ant has forbidden it. I am not even allowed to purchase them. I am allowed to talk about it, though.

So let my words paint you a picture…

I picked up Ant from school that day, and asked 1) where the dress shirt had gotten off to, and 2) how picture day had gone. He responded by telling me the dress shirt was crammed at the bottom of his backpack now, and the pictures were awful. In fact, he told me he looked like a ‘cowboy’, even though Ms. Student Teacher and Ms. Teacher both had told him this wasn’t the case.

So, naturally, I was intrigued. Ant is just about as photogenic as I am (I don’t know how K ended up being photogenic at all), but I was doubting the cowboy thing. Why would his teachers lie to him?

As soon as we got home, I pulled the proof from his backpack and inspected the small two inch shot.

Kid totally looked like a cowboy, except that his shirt was untucked and the position of the picture makes it look like he has no pants on, so, perhaps he looks more like a cowgirl with a buzz cut…

That wasn’t the worst of it, though.

The backdrop is an aging, antique farm building of some variety. It’s hard to tell if it’s a barn or a dilapidated shed or a Hooverville-Depression shanty. In front of this backdrop is a large, broken wagon wheel and some tufts of what I think is supposed to be wheat (but looks like dead ragweed), and my son (in his tan and blue shirt/dress—BUSY CLASH) is situated right in the middle.

His discomfort is palpable. Someone has obviously told him to stand up straight, and so he is damn-near bending backwards at the waist, and has tried to push his head as far back on his neck as vertebrae will allow. This has given him some type of no-neck thing going on, and since he is so off-balance in this position, the hand that is supposed to be draped casually over the wagon wheel is clinging, claw-like, to the prop. Except for the one finger (which happens to be the middle finger) that he is inexplicably raising into the air (and NOT in a flip-off, which, frankly, I would have looked the other way on, but in more of a ‘high tea’ way). His eyes are wide, and obviously, there is no smile.

It was the funniest damn thing I’ve seen in, oh, I don’t know how long. Yep, I tried to control it, but I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing at my child’s photogenic demise, right there in front of him, at the dinner table. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I laughed so hard K had to go and get me a glass of water. I am laughing about this shit right now, as I write it! Awkward Family Photos has NOTHING on this picture.

Also, before you send me my parenting award, I would like to point out that J’s first reaction to said proof was, “WHOA!” and a slow clap. So, at least I didn’t do that.

Some Real Advice For Teen Moms

In this picture he's 2. I'm 19.

 Last week, Mommalogues posted a series of video clips where big name and celebrity bloggers weighed in on the question, “What advice would you give a teen mom?” I watched with interest. It’s not the first time I’ve admitted it; I was a teen mom. I’m also not bashful about admitting it was a tough slog. Sadly, I was a bit upset by the responses I saw these bloggers give in their videos. It’s not that they were rude, or malicious, or judgmental (at least, not intentionally). It was that there were several women who had not been teen moms weighing in, and to a certain extent, missing the mark.

While teen mothers should be treated like other mothers in every way possible, the advice that would apply to a new mother in her 30s does not necessarily apply to a mother in her teens. This is an important distinction. Granted, teen pregnancy is on the decline nationally, and across all ethnicities. Teen motherhood, however, is still prevalent in certain areas of our nation—particularly rural and urban areas—and giving the right kind of advice and the right kind of support is imperative.

I got to thinking that perhaps some teen moms would actually like to hear advice from another teen mom. Someone who knows what they are facing, and has faced it and lived to tell the tale. So, instead of six videos which reiterate that a teen mom needs to put her baby first and get as much help as she can, let me provide some of the tips I wish someone would have shared with me.

Know what prevents pregnancy, and double up.

I got pregnant while using birth control, but the truth is most teens do not know enough about how to prevent pregnancy. Teens—you need to know how to prevent pregnancy, and you need to know it before you plan on engaging in sexual behaviors. It’s best to talk to a doctor or a nurse about it. Don’t rely on your friends. Don’t even rely on your family, unless your family member is a healthcare professional. Talk to a doctor. Ladies, you can speak to a doctor about your sexual health with privacy. You can get birth control from numerous places, including Planned Parenthood, clinics, and health departments. You can, and must, be in charge of your reproductive health. And just so you know, the CDC recommends that you double up on birth control. Using the pill AND condoms would have likely prevented my pregnancy, it prevents failures in one method of birth control, and it also prevents the transmission of disease.

Know as much as you can about everything pregnancy and baby.

If you are pregnant, make sure you read everything about pregnancy and childbirth and newborns/infants that you can get your hands on. Older mothers can feel excited about their pregnancies and even more confident with themselves than teens and this often translates into reading and preparing in every way possible. You should do the same. Don’t be afraid to ask your doctor(s) questions. Don’t be afraid to ask other mothers. Educate yourself. Knowing what to expect, and knowing when there may be a problem is the most important way you can keep you and your baby safe from harm. Your body will be changing, and the best way to ensure that these changes don’t scare you is to know what’s going on. The same goes for childbirth—it’s scary for any new mother—and you want to be prepared. When it comes to newborns, you should really make sure you know your stuff. Newborns are difficult, and while you cannot be prepared for everything that may happen (children will always surprise you), the more you know, the better parent you will be and the better you will feel about it.

Develop a thick skin.

Okay, let’s be blunt. There are some people who are going to be rude to you. They are going to say insensitive things. They may mean to, or it may be unintentional, but you are going to be judged, and you are going to get your feelings hurt. You do not have time to go head to head with everyone, and you do not have the energy to educate everyone about your situation. I wish this wasn’t the case, but it just is. Some people are hell-bent on being rude, and others just don’t understand that what they’re saying cuts deep. You need to learn to pick your battles (if someone acts threatening to you or your child—and yes, this includes the father of the child or your family), you have the right to calmly and firmly stand up for yourself. Otherwise, get yourself a thick skin and let the judgment and insensitivities roll off of you. You have more important things to do than to let these individuals get you down.

Surround yourself with the right kind of people.

Another blunt truth—you are going to lose friends. I’m sorry. This can even happen to mothers in their twenties and thirties. People are in different stages in their lives at different times. You are now a mother. Some of your friends are not going to be able to deal with that. That being said, you can surround yourself with supportive people. You may be able to work out a deal with a parent or other family member to allow you to go out with your friends or baby’s father once a week for a fun evening. My mother pushed me to do this—Friday nights were my night to be a teenager again, and she would watch my son. Sometimes you can find friends who are willing to do child-related things with you and your baby. I had a wonderful group of friends in college that did not mind watching Disney movies and ordering in or always meeting at my house for girl-time after my son was in bed. Sometimes you can even find a support group of other teen mothers who understand exactly what you are dealing with and can provide support.

Have a Plan B and a Plan C.

Ladies—you may have the best of intentions when it comes to anything like studying for school, getting the baby to the sitter’s before work, or going out with your friends, but sooner or later, something is going to come up with the baby and you’re going to be out of luck. The baby is sick, the babysitter bails, the car stops working, the weather acts up, anything. Always, ALWAYS, think of a plan B. Have a backup plan—it happens to all of us sooner or later, and it will happen to you. If something on your schedule absolutely has to be done (like you have to study for a test at school, let’s say), make sure to think of a backup plan. Sometimes it seems like the universe is messing with people who don’t have a backup plan, but the honest truth is that if you have a plan B and a plan C, you have a much better chance of getting done everything you plan to get done. This could mean something as large as finishing high school and going to college, or even something as simple as getting the bottles washed by the end of the evening with a colicky baby.  

Believe in yourself.

This is going to be a tough road. Being a teen, a student, a mother, and perhaps even an employee at the same time is a lot. You know you are working hard—and you should also know how awesome you are for doing it. You love your baby. You have made a choice to be all of these things at once because you felt it was the right thing for you. You are working hard to care for your child and for yourself. You will not always be perfect—you are human—but you can do this. Believe in yourself—you are your biggest advocate and your child’s biggest advocate in this world. You will need to remind yourself of this many times throughout the next several years—when someone says something hurtful, when something doesn’t work according to plan, when there’s a roadblock or a setback. You can do this. You will overcome obstacles. You can be a loving mother and a good student and a good employee. I know you can do it. I put myself through college with a child in tow. I earned a master’s degree. I got a good job that I love and with excellent benefits and a wonderful boss. These things are possible for you! Do not settle, do not let others drag you down, and do not berate yourself. This can be tough, but if you believe in yourself, you will accomplish what you set out to do.

Are you or were you a teen mother? How did you feel about the videos at Mommalogues? What advice would you give a teen mother today?

A Contest: The Spam, It Keeps On Coming

I know, I know, the blogging has not been much over the past few weeks. Being a basketball mom, and also winning that grant (Remember the grant? Remember the large quantities of chocolate and wine I consumed during the seven weeks I worked on writing the grant proposal? Yeah, we won that puppy! Hooray! Oh, wait… that means I have some more work to do…) has kicked my butt.

Despite the fact that I haven’t written anything in weeks, there’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all on this blog. Something that you don’t see. Something that occurs on the back end of things. Something that requires nearly constant attention. That something? It’s the spam comments. Oy, the spam comments. I think this is how we know we’ve made it in the blogging world.

It seems as if as soon as the spam comments started to disappear in the Twitterverse (I don’t know exactly how they fixed those spam bots, but let me know, Twitter, how I can express my gratitude), they started popping up on my old blog posts. By the dozens. Each and every day. Most of them are boring. Most of them don’t even register on one’s consciousness. And then… then… there are the spam commenters who up their game. Dramatically.

In the course of one day a few weeks ago, I received one who graciously complimented me on my blog, and then in the very next sentence told me that I was a horrible writer because my post titles. The next sentence directed me to their site to buy Chinese tobacco. Wait. What? Say that middle part again?

The next one I deleted was a post-length story about how the spam commenter’s daughter had recently found a seashell on the shore, held it up to her ear, and then proceeded to be pinched by the resident hermit crab in the shell. The detail given in the story (which they just had to send to me, so that SOMEONE would know the story) was astounding. Then I was directed to buy their Chinese Viagra tobacco. Because, one should feel multicultural when smoking something that may require them to seek medical attention in about four hours.

Reading these comments prompted me to immediately go to the Facebook page and ask if anyone was interested in judging a spam commenting contest, and also, what the appropriate prize for one who wins such a contest. Of course, SPAM is a natural fit, but frankly, I’m unwilling to even purchase a can of SPAM in the store, much less ship it to someone as a prize. So, I’ve had to come up with something better. As lance pointed out, spam backwards is maps, so I could give maps as a prize. Nope, I didn’t like that one, either. Or I could give the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs as a prize (they have Maps as a song title, as do the Fray and another band—The Front Bottoms—whom I’ve never heard of), but sending a CD as a gift seems to be assuming a lot about your musical tastes.

So, I’ve decided that I want to make some coffee mugs, Zazzle-style. And what better way to reward the winner of the best spam comment than with a mug that says just that: 

 Then I had to make a t-shirt, just for fun:

  

This Zazzle thing could become dangerous... But, I digress… So, let’s talk about this contest, why don’t we?

The rules: Starting today, you can enter the contest with the best/funniest/weirdest spam comment you’ve ever received on your blog by commenting on this post! Share the link to this post with all of your bloggy friends, so they can compete as well! I have a panel of judges (I know! It’s like it’s official or something! A panel!) who are going to be judging your entries for the next week (through next Tuesday night). Then, next week, I’ll announce the winner, and any honorable mentions. I’m betting we’ll have some honorable mentions…