I’ve been slightly blogless this week, in case no one has noticed.

It’s not because I have nothing to say.

Oh trust me, I have PLENTY to say.

The problem is, the biggest source of bloggable news in my home right now is just so absolutely over the top that I’ve been biting my tongue, trying to respect the oh-so-fragile notion of teenage privacy.

Let me see if I can explain what is going on, in general enough terms, that I am not banished to the Island of Non-Speaking Parents. I get shipped exiled there occasionally, about once or twice a week. Usually, I get my return ticket back to land of the speaking offspring when my firstborn needs money, gas, or a signature on something. And then I am normally re-exiled fairly quickly.

It’s okay.

I’m used to it by now. I just wish they would exile me to somewhere cool, like Tahiti.

So, the elephant in the middle of the room that I am speaking of is the fact that my oldest child is so far head over heels in love with his adorable girlfriend, that I believe he might be losing all grip of reality.  Their Facebook status’ are so over the top, sappy in love, that I’m getting e-mails from cousins and aunts that I’ve never heard of asking me if Tyler secretly got married in Las Vegas and I failed to invite everyone. Okay, not really, but close enough.

In fact, he is so freakin’, unbelievably over the top crazy about this adorable girl, that he actually refused to leave school one day this week, FOR ONE HOUR, TO GO TO THE DENTIST.

Okay keep in mind, we are talking about teenagers.

Normally, when there is the slightest toothache, headache, or hangnail, he is requesting a doctor trip, the rest of the day at home to recuperate, and “oh by the way mom, I feel really bad but we can swing by McDonalds on the way home. PUHLEASE.”

This week, all three boys had long planned dentist visits. Robert texted Tyler to let him know he would need to check out of school early. All of a sudden a barrage of texts fly back and forth between the two of them with Tyler saying that he just could not miss school, he had a lot of  ‘important information’ to cover in class.

BAHAHAHAHAHA.

I might have fallen off a turnip truck, but it was in 1969, not 2010.

Robert looked at me and said, “is his girlfriend in his classes?” I said , “Yes. And GIVE ME THAT &*$%^% PHONE.”

My patience was up. I was tired. Lacking coffee. And in utter disbelief that my child was refusing to LEAVE SCHOOL for AN HOUR to get his teeth cleaned! Seriously, he has been kidnapped by martians, or hormones have zapped him of his common sense.

I sent him back a text and said something to the effect of, “This is your mother. Check out of school at 10 am. Discussion over. You will survive.” Seriously.

Do you remember teenage love?

Do you remember the intense feelings as if no one else mattered but that ONE PERSON.

Do you remember knowing that there could be 5 bazillion other people in the room and that the only person that mattered was that other someone?

Yeah, I remember too.

For some reason though, I cannot remember my dad seeming worried about it?

Funny how memory works like that.

In case you’re wondering?

• The ’sex’ talk? Yeah. I think everyone who comes into my house now gets that speech. The FedEx man can stop by and I will say to him, “are you having safe sex? You know that’s for after marriage, right?” If you show up here, expect a lecture. Tyler can barely make a ham sandwhich without one of us saying “you’re not having sex are you? Are you being careful? Please tell us you’re not doing that? Are you being polite?” It’s very frustrating I am sure, to these two good kids. But, not nearly as frustrating as a new baby. They can get over it. I’ll keep preaching.
• If you thought peer pressure was bad when we were kids, you’ve got no idea what kids today face. I cannot even comprehend it. It’s beyond me, really, what they know about adult matters, what they talk and joke about. If you’re shy or embarrassed to talk about grown up topics by the time your kids are about 12, just don’t even have kids. Actually, get ready. They will probably educate you.

Sheesh. I think kids today could probably educate Hugh Hefner at this point.

I have great kids, and I’m very happy that HE is so happy.

I’m trying so hard to give him that space, allow him to feel love and all that it entails.

There aren’t really words to describe what it feels like to be on this ship of teenage hormones, put out a plank, allow them to walk out on it, and pray with every ounce of your being that they don’t fall into the sharks just waiting.

And just think.

I’ve only got two more kids to go.

I’ve come to the conclusion that no one is every really, REALLY honest about raising teenagers.

If they were, procreation would have come to a screeching halt a long darn time ago.

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