AND NOW....THE REST OF THE STORY

I am posting from my dad's house where both of my patients are resting. This experience of caring for them will make for lots of blog material.

This is for Jen3 who has asked for the whole story of the homecoming fiasco experienced by my son. Please be patient.

First a little background. We live in a town of about 2000 people (that's two thousand). We are in a consolidated school district with a town of about 1000 people (that's one thousand). That town is 7 miles up the highway. In the ten years we've been here, our school district has never been ranked below number 2 in state testing for our region, so even the consolidation is little bother for the fantastic schools we think we have. Our town is basically connected to a town of about 80,000. It has several public schools and one private Catholic high school (St. T) This school is our ARCH RIVAL in sports. It is a rivalry that seems to have reached animosity - at least when you are speaking to teenagers (and some parents, actually.)

Blake's friend Taylor was dating a girl from St. T. Seems she already had her dress for OUR homecoming,when Taylor broke up with her. So she asked Blake to take her to HIS OWN dance, even though she attends a different school. Boys being boys, Taylor didn't care a bit, other than to say "let Blake deal with the headache." I should have seen the red flag.

So she tells Blake her dress is green and he tells me his tie has to match her dress so I ask "what color green? Pine green? Sage green? Lime green? John Deere green?" He doesn't know but he'll ask her. She responds by saying she has a tie she wants him to wear, which I thought sounded a little controlling, but what do I know?

So we buy Blake his dress pants and shirt and a new belt and I wait around for the tie. Friday night (dance on Saturday) - still no tie. I ask Blake when we are getting that tie so I can make sure it is pressed, etc. Turns out we had to go pick up the tie Saturday morning, because evidently we didn't have enough to do on top of Kayla's basketball tournament, picking up a corsage, pressing clothes, arranging transportation, etc. etc.

Let me back up. On Thursday (two days before the dance) Blake called me from the after school festivities and said "Mom, she just called and said she doesn't want to go to the dance. Can you cancel the flower?" Sure. I think he was relieved. Then he called back 45 minutes later and I felt so bad for him because he said "Mom, now she's called and said she does want to go to the dance with me." Well, I didn't say what I wanted to say, but enough is enough. So I said "Blake you do NOT have to take her to the dance. If you do not want to take this girl, you have my permission to call her back and tell her that you are not going to be strung along by her. She can't play this kind of game with you." Please keep in mind, Blake did not know this girl very well, he thought he was just escorting her to the dance so she could be with her friends who had been invited. She is not the type of girl he has normally chosen to "date."

So, on the evening of the dance, we are all to meet at the pond across from our house for pictures. Blake and his date had their picture taken by her mother and before I could get in position to take one, she said "now Ryan, one with you." Then,
"Alex, one with you." And on it went. So I just said "I'd like one of Blake and his date, please." Though, actually I didn't.

THEN. We all load up to take the kids to Red Lobster and BLAKE'S DATE DIDN'T WANT TO RIDE WITH HIM. And neither did Alex's date. Then after eating, Blake and his date and 2 other couples were supposed to be driven to the dance by my husband. Paul said he got there and one of the girls said "Oh, my mom is taking all the girls." So the girls piled in one van and the boys piled in the other.

Later that evening, all the boys spent the night at our house. That is when Taylor said "next year, no dates. Too much drama."

My theory, and the other mothers agreed, is that these girls simply used the boys to get into the homecoming dance of a rival school. Think of the drama they created by saying they got to go to this dance. Think of how they probably stirred things up with the boys from their own school. And honestly, I am disappointed that our boys did not decide to take girls from their own school, so I do not hold Blake blameless in this mess. I think he has learned a lesson. It was very hard for me to watch all of this unfold, but I was afraid the more I protested, the more tempting it might be for him to not only escort her to the dance but to keep having contact with her. Teenagers are like that, you know.

And guess what. At dinner the other night, Blake asked "Mom, Dad, would I be allowed to attend St. T's homecoming dance.?"
My response: "Not only NO, but NO WAY!!!"

Also, I do know that these girls are just kids and they may very well turn out to be very sweet young women. I do not mean to speak badly of kids. Because they are just that...kids.
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And now, a quick question.

I am nearing 40. And that is fine with me. I am accepting the hot flashes and the creaking my joints do. I am accepting the higher maintence costs in general that come with middle age. I am accepting that I am in a phase of life where I am raising teenagers AND caring for aging, ill parents. But why, oh why if I am on the threshold of middle age, am I still getting pimples?