So WB’s formal is tomorrow.  Friday.  At 5pm.  Just a mere 27 hours from now.

For 5 weeks now I have asked on several occasions if he needs a suit for this event.  You know, as opposed to the dress pants and shirt he normally wears to functions.  I have offered to go shopping with him.  I know, after the hat incident, I must be crazy but hey - that’s what Mom’s do.   If we remembered how much grief the last “incident” was there would be a lot of only children out there.

At 10:30 last night WB informed me that he wanted a jacket and new dress shirt for his formal.  10:30 at night!!!!

After I threatened death, asked him if he left his brain at school and generally vented about lack of planning - I agreed to meet him at the mall after work today.

So, please think of me at 6pm EST, as I will be trolling the mall with my 18 year old trying to find a black suit jacket and as yet undecided coloured dress shirt.  I imagine we’ll be getting a tie too, just to be on the safe side.  Oh and more black dress socks - as the 2 pairs he had have gone missing.

WB spent the day at the University he’ll be attending in the fall for Science Day.  I know, the kid is a closet geek.  But a cute geek.

I would like to note, before I go on about our conversation, that it was the first truly warm, sunny day here in quite sometime.  About 80F.  May have some thing to do with WB’s observations.

The text messages:

WB:  On my way back.

Me:  Did you have a good time?  Learn something?

WB:  I love the Science lab.  I could live there.  And I love Guelph!

Me:  And you love the bars, the no parents, no harping mother….

WB:  Holy Shit, the girls Mom!

Me:  Put your eyes back in your head.

WB:  Ha, Ha.  Seriously, the ratio is like 5 girls for every guy.  Holy crap!

Me:  I’m not paying $15K a year for you to get lucky.  Focus!!  Education!!!

WB:  I know but seriously.  The girls!!  University rocks.

It’s going to be an interesting first year.

 

Mother’s Day has never been a big thing around here.  Usually we take my Mom out for dinner and WB drops one liners like “Isn’t this day over at noon, like April Fool’s?”

This year was a little different.  My sister and her fiance are house hunting in the over priced city of Toronto and could not make dinner this year.  So, my Mom chose the pub and we agreed to meet at 6pm.

WB had spent the week end at the girlfriend’s and sent me a text saying he may be a couple minutes late.  By the time he showed, my Mom and I had made a dent in the baked brie and our pints of Stella.

In true boy fashion, he whipped 2 cards out from inside his hoodie and wished us both a Happy Mom’s Day.  I thought it was beyond sweet that he got a card for his Grandma and that he went on inside about how proud of her he was.  Then came my card.  Anybody cried in a crowded pub before?  I don’t advise it, especially when everyone down to the dishwasher knows you.

The card was a little cheesy, but here is what he wrote inside:

“First of all I apologize for the cheesy card, I know it’s not our style.  For 18 years now you’ve put up with all the crap I’ve thrown at you…I’m impressed to say the least.  You’re always there for me through thick and thin and I’d like to think I’ve done the same for you.  You’ve made me the man I am and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love you so much, WB”

Yes, my eyes watered.  Ok, maybe a tear or two escaped.

It wasn’t till we got home that WB confessed he had bought the cards on his way home from the girlfriend’s and was so under prepared that he even had to buy a package of pens to fill out the cards.  He’s such a boy.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Mother’s Day! 

Apparently my less than hospitable mood has created a new game (kind of like Where’s Waldo?) for those subjected to my presence the past few days.  The following questions have been asked:

Are you pregnant? - *shudder*  NO!!!

Is it that time of the month? - Seriously, how old are you?  16?

Are you going thru the change of life? - I’m not that lucky.

Is it because you’re not getting any on a regular basis? - Again, are we back in high school? 

Is it because your little sister is getting married before you? - Banging head on desk.

Are you finally realizing how old you are? - Couldn’t catch that person to hit them.

What could you possibly be pissy about?  Your life is perfect. - What colour is the sky in your world?  Is it pretty?

Rhino found someone else, didn’t he?- Not to my knowledge, but thanks for adding to the shit floating thru my head.

So, just to keep everything clear - nothing earth shattering is wrong, I’m in a funk.  Maybe it’s the less than stellar May weather, maybe it’s my job, maybe it’s my desperate need for a haircut and no time, maybe it’s just a funk.  Regardless, I am taking some wonderful advice and am sitting here in my jammies, having a couple glasses of wine and looking forward to a solid 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

 

I am in the mother of all bad moods.  Not sure what exactly brought it on, why it’s sticking around or why I can’t shake it.  The phrase argumentative bitch would be an endearment right now.

So, here’s a WB funny.

Me:  Have you completed the online form for Residence yet?

WB:  Yep and guess what?

Me:  What?

WB:  I applied to the all girls residence.  And when they deny my application…… I’m claiming discrimination.  Awesome plan huh?

Me:  And so it begins.

It wasn’t even my birthday and I’m still trying to recover.

Sunday was a success with lots of food, good company, laughs and alcohol.  Oh the margaritas.  WB received, among other things, a new digital camera, a 3 in 1 printer for school and a varsity jacket IOU.  Oh and surprise concert tickets to see these guys, compliments of moi!

Last night was dinner out with some other family members and not home till after 9pm.  Too much food and too many late nights make me a slug.

And yes the Man Weekend was a success in that no one was arrested and they all came home with the same number of tattoos that they left with - for WB that’s ZERO.  The only downside was the Canadian team they went to see lost.  Oh and WB did 18 shots of tequila for his birthday on Friday.  Not sorry I missed that or the morning after.

Your 18 today.  Legally an adult.  You have been driving for 1 1/2 years.  You’re now old enough to vote (better not be Conservative, I raised you better!!!)  And off to University in September.

Our beginning was a rough one.  I was in my second year of University and working part time.  Your Dad and I had just started living together when the test came back positive.  While we were adamant we were having you, your Grandparent’s were cautious and worried. 

My water broke at 1:15am while working the bar at the local pub.  We mopped up, I finished my shift and went home to wake your Dad.  You arrived by C Section at 8:38am May 3rd, 1990.  Back in the day, they put you out for it so I remember very little.  I do know that I asked everyone “Does he have 10 fingers and 10 toes” upon coming too without even knowing for sure you were a “he”.

Your Dad and I split when you were 18 months and so began the journey of us.  It wasn’t always easy or kittens and rainbows.  I was working, you were in daycare and neither of us was always pleasant at the end of the day.  A lot of nights I cried myself to sleep, worrying about money, worrying if I was doing right by you and just plain scared.  I was 23.  I was a kid raising a kid.

You started public school and I cried.  I cried dropping you off on your first day and all the way to work.  My little boy was growing up and so eager to be a part of “big kid school”, it was like I didn’t exist.  You thrived.  Every night when I picked you up from the sitter’s you barely stopped talking to eat dinner, regaling me with the tales of school, playground escapades and all you’d learned.

Your Grade 8 graduation was the first indication things were about to change in a big way.  You had a date for the dance and looked so grown up in your dress clothes.  I remember crying when your name was called and you walked across the stage.  Teresa handed me a kleenex and patted my knee.  “He’s still your little boy Jo.  You’ve raised a wonderful young man.”

I worried when you started High School.  All for naught.  You excelled beyond anything in previous years.  You could choose your courses - so many Sciences, Languages and Maths to choose!  No mandatory Music or Art classes!!  You were in heaven. 

You started playing Volleyball and Rugby.  You joined groups, became a prefect, tutored kids in the younger grades.  You formed your own Youth In Action group and have raised enough to sponsor a child in Dafour for 3 years now and ensured the group will continue after you graduate.  You embraced the entire High School experience. 

And we started to spend less and less time together.  I missed our time together but was in awe of the composed, witty, self assured man you were becoming.  You were mine?  Really??  Maybe we needed a DNA test because as a rule I screw things up, not do them right.

You’ve had a roller coaster senior year.  We lost Grandpa.  You lost one of your best friends.  You were diagnosed with cancer.   Rhino moved in and we took a big step (okay, only a big step for me) to making us a family.  Through everything you maintained your calm, easy going attitude and never wavered.  You will be graduating with honours in June.  6th year in a row.  You were accepted at all four Universities and even though you kept saying you wanted to go 300 km away - you chose one closer to home.  When I questioned if you were sure, you said “It’s far enough but not too far.  I need to know I can see and talk to you whenever I want to.”  I cried.  And yes WB, I am a sap when it comes to you.

In a roundabout way hon, I’m trying to tell you how unbelievably proud I am of the man you have become.  You are smart, witty, compassionate and giving.  You have already accomplished more than I ever hoped for you by this time and still have so much more to show the world.  I am proud to say I am your Mom and love you with every fiber of my being.  

Happy Birthday baby.  The words of this song express my hopes for you better than I ever could:

I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow
And each road leads you where you want to go
And if you’re faced with the choice and you have to choose
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you
And if one door opens to another door closed
I hope you keep on walkin’ ‘til you find the window
If it’s cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile
But more than anything, more than anything

My wish for you
Is that this life becomes all that you want it to
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small
You never need to carry more than you can hold
And while you’re out there gettin’ where you’re gettin’ to
I hope you know somebody loves you
And wants the same things too
Yeah, this is my wish

I hope you never look back but you never forget
All the ones who love you
And the place you left
I hope you always forgive and you never regret
And you help somebody every chance you get
Oh, you find God’s grace in every mistake
And always give more than you take
But more than anything, yeah more than anything

This is my wish
I hope you know somebody loves you
May all your dreams stay big

**Rascal Flatts - My Wish

Let’s see if we can hit 18 posts in honour of WB’s birthday!! 

 

It’s Jen’s Birthday today!! 

Can’t you hear the fireworks and champagne bottles popping??

Jen is a firm believer in celebrating birthdays for all their worth.  I imagine the inhabitants of JenWorld have quite a number of surprises for their queen today.  I have images of Jen sitting on her newly spruced up porch sipping daquiris made by her doting husband, while reading the cards made by her lovely, crafty daughters.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEN!!!  Hoping you have a wonderful day.

What are you waiting for?  Go over to JenWorld and wish her a fantastic birthday.

I was working at the Pub last night when the following text messaging occurred. 

Who I thought was Rhino (WITWR):  Miss you.  Love you.

Me:  Miss you too hon. 

WITWR: You don’t love me anymore?

Me:  Of course I do.  WB’s pumped for this week end.

WITWR:  So happy you still love me.  Can I call you?

Me:  Have you been drinking?  Why would you ask if you could call?

WITWR:  I’m not drunk.  Won’t your fiance mind if I call?

That was when I actually looked at the number the texts were coming from.  My ex, drunk Jamie.

In my defence - I don’t get a lot of “Miss you and love you’s” from anyone but Rhino.  My phone’s been turned off ever since.

Last night WB managed to eat Tilapia, cheddar mashed potatoes and very, soft peas (yuck!).  And while it took him twice as long as it normally would have, the improvement over “mush” was noted.  Tonight’s meal involves my Grandma’s mac ‘n cheese and a salad.

I mentioned that Alison had eaten a hamburger, albeit a Mickey D’s, the day after her wisdom’s were pulled.  And while I can’t replicate the eye rolling and huff, I can share his comment.  “We’ve had this convo before.  If it’s not a double quarter pounder with cheese, just a waste of a meal.”

WB took his teeth to school with him and managed to gross out quite a few people.  Apparently the only ones not disturbed by these thing - boys and male teachers.  Are we shocked?  I now worry he’s put them in some drawer somewhere and I’m going to be freaked out one morning at 6am.

Both Rhino and WB have casually mentioned to me that as of midnight Friday he is legal to drink in certain parts of Quebec.  I have not so casually threatened mentioned that as he has 4 holes in his head, maybe - just maybe - we may want to forgo that “man” stupidity ritual to avoid alcohol poisoning.  And a trip to a hospital where they only speak French and may remove an organ or limb instead of pumping his stomach.  Sometimes there is too much testosterone in this house.

I have a million things to do before WB’s party on the 4th and he keeps adding guests.  On top of that Mother Nature had decided that 9 C (or 48F) is an acceptable temperature on the 30th of April.  Get your shit together sister, I need the majority of these 16 people to be out on the deck on Sunday and not bothering me in my house.  You have 4 days.