A Place for Gracie

“I hope you have one just like you!” March 7, 2011

The words that make up the title of this post would always strike fear in my heart. And my lungs, kidneys, and most other body parts. Why? Because when my mom would say this to me, she was referring to the horrible experience it was to parent the teenage me. I didn’t see those years as horrible. I had a great time doing all the things I did but probably shouldn’t have done–things that were unwise, things that could get me hurt or worse, things that were stupid enough to get me in more trouble with my parents than I ever would have been in  if it was just, say, a police officer who caught me. And I had an ATTITUDE, yes I did. This did not make for a peaceful existence for me or for my parents. My mom had to keep my dog quiet when I came in late, so that my dad didn’t wake up, cuz he’d be pissed. I had to get very creative with my excuses for being late, and I was almost always up to the task. One night, two of the guys we were with smeared motor oil on their hands, and came up to the door with me to ask if they could wash up after having to replace a fan belt on the way to drop me off, which is why we were late. Or the friend who wandered off and we couldn’t find her. And without a cell phone (it was the 70s–sadly lacking in technology back then!), we had no choice but to wait until she returned before we could head for home. Or the nights I sat and listened to someone’s troubles with a girlfriend or boyfriend–I was a most empathetic friend. I’m sure my parents wished I had been more empathetic to the pains I was causing them! There were a million reasons, both real and made up, to be late. And I used them all.

Fast forward to senior year in high school. Things have calmed down. I have more freedom, and less need to rebel. I’m working a zillion hours a week at McDonald’s, and don’t have as much time to find trouble. My relationship with my parents has become more easy-going. We are having fun again as a family, whether it’s shoveling snow after a blizzard, or playing one of the games we always enjoyed. My siblings and I are enjoying our time with each other, and with mom & dad. Good thing, because soon I will get married and move to a city about an hour away. This is when those words that my mom used to say, “I hope you have one just like you,” come back to haunt me. I learn I am pregnant with our first child. She turns out to be beautiful, sweet, well-behaved, and only slightly under-motivated in school. I wait for it–the signs that Ugly Teenage Monster is getting ready to attack. Nope. Didn’t happen. Not with the first daughter, and not with the second one either, because even though she is very different from her sister, she is a sweetheart as well. Despite my penchant for hitchhiking, alcohol consumption, trying to get away with anything I could (and I usually did!), doing all the things I wasn’t “allowed” to do, despite all of this and more, both of my daughters were born without the gene that turns a teenager into Ugly Teenage Monster. Those two girls are as different from each other as night and day, but aside from a few shenanigans, minor league stuff, they were a joy and a blessing every step of the way. Even when they learned that their dad and I were splitting up, they stayed the course.

My oldest daughter is engaged now, and while both girls have their dresses ordered, there is dress shopping to be done for me. My girls and I are following in the tradition of my sisters & I and our mom–a weekend trip out-of-town to shop. I can’t wait to share this time with them–the trying on of dresses galore, pretty ones, silly ones, elegant ones, in all kinds of styles and colors, and maybe sharing a laugh (or twenty!) in the process, with a break for a couple of beers and a burger. In many ways, my girls are very much like me. But in the important way, the one that my mom threatened me with more times than I could count, they were not “just like me.” And I will be forever grateful to them for being the wonderful girls they are. (Is it ok to call them girls even though they are 25 and 28 now?) My mom has a theory. She thinks maybe it skips a generation, and that one of my daughters might give birth to Ugly Teenage Monster. We have decided NOT to share this with them…