I'm an Excellent Driver

I’m sitting here on the couch with my 14 year old that is sick, reflecting on my day. She, Sam, spiked a crazy fever tonight after a week on steroids for asthma and antibiotics for an upper respiratory infection. Nine days into this and she spikes a major fever. She’s sleeping next to me on the couch. I wanted her close to me.

I had no idea my day would wrap up like this. Of course, like everyone else, I can’t predict how my day will play out. I guess if any of us could we might never leave the house. I have a bit of a soda habit these days. After taking the kids to school I head to McDonalds for my extra large Diet Dr Pepper. This morning was no different, except….after procuring my soda, I turned out of the drive thru only to hear the horrible sound of the side of my new car being, what I thought was, destroyed.
Now see, here is where you need some history. The streak I thought was over started years ago when I had my mini van. Some knucklehead backed into my side door with my girls in the car. No injuries, his family paid for the damage. My next car was a Camry SE, very cute, V6, black, OK cute for a MILF car. I had multiple incidents in that car, the last of which involved a BobCat Dozer, an illegal alien, and a prolonger repair process. My next car was a new Camry Mom edition. No V6, very boring. In the second week of owning the car I was rear-ended on the freeway. Then each corner of the front bumper was munched and I know some other crap happened, but I can’t recall right now. I had to get out of that car. So we got the new car…the one I destroyed this morning.
So I pulled into the parking lot, knowing the car was jacked. As I got out of the car I debated calling Donald before or after or during the time I saw the damage. I decided not to call at that time. I got out of the car. The drive thru girl was hanging out of the window. Oh lord I felt lame. So I walked to passenger side of the car and was amazed. It appears that the plastic wrap around bumper was disengaged, but bounced back prior to cracking and the only sign of an issue is the seam where the clip is bent. I think it can be totally fixed, easily. I told the hubster about it late in the day. Guess he’s been around long enough to know I am a chick driver. I hate that.

But then you come home and you see what’s really important.

My Girl

My girl turned 14 today. 

I can't believe how fast the time has gone by.  I still vividly recall the day I found out I was pregnant.  I was working at The Broadway dept store at the age of 25.  I've never been so happy and scared all at the same time.  Until that day having a baby just seemed like a great idea, now, suddenly I was going to be responsible for another human being.  Wow, that makes it so much more real. 

I remember the first sonogram.  She or it at the time because we didn't know it was she was a little peanut with a tiny beating heart.  Months later we found out she was a girl, this was a truly happy day.  I wanted a girl so badly.  Months later I would hijack Father's Day by having my water break at home during the final 7th game of the NBA finals.  The Bulls were playing and her Dad could barely believe we had to leave for the hospital on Father's Day, much less in the 2nd quarter of the game.  Fast forward 18 hours (we could have stayed home) I gave birth to Samantha Brittany.  Ironically, on her birthday this year, another final game in the NBA.

Sam was the best baby ever.  The worst thing she did was to give back a little bit of every bottle by way of spit up.  She barely cried, had a regular schedule, got 2 to 3 teeth at a time and her gas was easily remedied with Mylicon.  She was a joy, so happy and funny. 

Cute story.  I took her to my Grandmother's house pretty much daily.  I worked weekends and nights part time so I could stay with her and help Grandma.  We would run errands and go to lunch and hang out at the mall etc.  Being a stay at home Mom was the bomb, easy breezy.  I don't care what any stay at home Mom says, it was EASY!  OK, but I digress.  Sam would nap at Grandma's house daily, she had a crib there and her own room.  She would wake up and stand in her crib and call out, "anybody......somebody.....anybody....."  hoping one of us, or presumably someone would come get her.  She didn't cry, she just called out.  We would make her wait because it was so funny to hear her.

We moved to the current house when Sam was 18 months old.  She immediately found her best little friend Isabelle, who is 11 months older.  They got along famously except for the infamous day of the collar grabbing argument over sidewalk chalk.  Isabelle's Mom and I watched, we wanted to intervene, but it was funnier to let them duke it out.  Then there was the day Isabelle gave Sam a makeover while we thought Isabelle was helping Sam to use the potty.  The image we will never forget, Isabelle in the hallway saying, Mommy don't panic, and then seeing Sam in the bathroom, standing on a step stool with terribly bright fuchsia lipstick applied horribly and a handful of hair on the ground.  She actually got a haircut along with her makeover.  We weren't mad.  We still laugh about it. 

Then we had the staples in the head.  This was great timing because the office store Staples was running the ad campaign slogans saying, Staples, Yeah,We Got That.   She was about 2, we taught her to say, "Staples, yeah, I got those".   A couple weekends at Children's Hospital while we were dealing with an asthma diagnosis (you can thank Mom for that gene).   Only a cold here and there, and few injuries. 

Fast forward to now.  My girl is a successful student, good friend, very cute,  taller than me, fashion forward without being a snob and hilariously funny, even when I am mad at her.  She's a good girl.   I love her very much and I am so glad she is remarkably different from her Mom at this age.  

Happy birthday Sam.  You're a good kid.  I love you and I am proud of you.