A Very Merry Unbirthday to The Weez.

The Weez: MOM!!!! MMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!
Me: OH MY GA! What’s wrong? Do we need an ambulance? What? What? What?!?!
The Weez: Bring Me The Horizon and A Day To Remember are coming here in October!!!
Me: Who? What?
The Weez: Only the BEST bands EVER are coming here AND they’re coming on my birthday. Please, oh please, oh please, oh please, can I go for my birthday?

I knew that it would eventually catch up to me. I’ve successfully avoided Justin Beiber [is it Beiber or Bieber? Both look incorrect. Geesh!], One Direction, Jonas Brothers, and whomever else was the teeny-bopper sensation of the day, but I could avoid it no longer.

Yes, The Weez, you can go for your birthday. So, way back in April, The Weez’s birthday was planned for October. Her dad will come from his Army post in Missouri and take her to the concert. Yes, this will work out nicely for us all.

Fast forward to the week before The Weez’s birthday. Her dad is strangely quiet and is not communicating travel or lodging plans with me. Somethings up. Yep, he’s not coming. Something about training. Sometimes military life sucks. The Weez is just devastated. My heart breaks too. The kid has had some major changes this year and seeing her dad would’ve been a much needed boost.

Of course, it’s up to me to take her to the concert now [I’ll just buy 18 packs of ear plugs and bring my iPad to entertain me]. Then I begin to think that I’d be a pretty horrible birthday date. She really should bring a friend, but we’re days before the concert and my monthly budget did not include an extra concert ticket. She really should have someone who likes this music to go with her. Let me cut out my tennis budget for the week [see how I sacrifice for my kids!] and pay the water bill 5 days later and this can work. I’ll still bring the earplugs and iPad, but I’ll sit in the lounge area. Two days before the concert, I throw down another $60 to make The Weez’s birthday happen.

Mom saves the day!! Excuse me while I shine my Mom of the Year award.

All the while The Weez’s birthday events unfold, I’ve been going through physical therapy for Achilles tendinitis. The torture-artist, er, I mean the physical therapist, begins acupuncture on my calves to release knots that are as large as grapefruits and are stressing my Achilles tendon. One would think that this would feel good. Nope. Nu-huh. My entire body is reacting. Did you know that if you release tension in one spot in your body, your whole body curses you for it?

It’s now the day before the concert. I cannot sit still at work. That evil physical therapist has done a number on me. Someone should smack her. I decide that I must leave work early to get a massage. My boss says “sure”.  He’s cool like that. I call three salons near me and none have availability. I call one that is 30 minutes away and SUCCESS! I high-tail it to the salon so that I’m not late. They won’t extend the session if I’m late and I need every minute.

Well crap, I’m five minutes late, but I can deal.

I walk in and rush through the paperwork and my cell phone rings.

Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.

Damn it. It’s The Weez.

The Weez: [Hysterical] MOM!! Oh my gosh, mom! It’s awful [sobs].
Me: What baby!?? What is it? Are you hurt? Where are you?
The Weez: THEY CANCELED THE CONCERT! THEY CANCELED THE CONCERT! My life is over! I’ve checked everywhere and they’re NOT COMING BACK!! They canceled the concert!
Me: What? Okay, baby. I’m on my way home. Let me call you when I’m in the car.

Goodbye massage [cue forlorn music].

I arrive home to find The Weez utterly devastated. Poor thing. She’s right. Ticketmaster confirms. How odd that they took my money just hours before and mentioned nothing then. It’s rather odd how they have yet to issue a refund. We frantically search for upcoming concerts in the Southeast. And nothing.

Happy unbirthday to you!

Over the next few days, we brain-storm, we plot, we research, we plan and EUREKA! The Fair is coming at the end of the month. We’ll go to the Fair for her birthday and bring several friends. That’ll work. It’s an act of God to work around everyone’s schedules, but we make it happen! I even get to bring some of my friends. This is going to be a great birthday for The Weez after all.

The Fair is planned for Sunday after Halloween. It’ll be a busy, crazy weekend but we’re going to make it happen! Halloween went off without a hitch, but the weather man gave us quite scare. Apparently the arctic is creeping our way. I wake up Saturday to find that the arctic is here, in fact, and our commitment for Saturday has moved to Sunday.

ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME?!? Well, before I back out of the commitment The Weez and I made to our friend who needs our help, I need to check with The Weez and see if she and her friends want to go to the Fair on Saturday and honor our commitment on Sunday. If she says “no”, then “no” it is.

Through another act of God, we manage to move Sunday’s plans to Saturday and Saturday’s plans to Sunday [dizzy yet]. Yes, it’s going to be freezing at the Fair, but we’re tough chicks and THIS BIRTHDAY IS HAPPENING!

No it’s not. Here comes the deluge. Rain, rain, everywhere rain. Messing up the birthday, breaking my mind. Nope. No Fair today.

Now, we’re onto Plan C. Bowling it is!! Bowling it was!! It was a great day, but it sure was a mess of a birthday for The Weez.

She’s so sweet and understanding about it, but my heart is so sad that I couldn’t give her the birthday she wanted. The past few years, I’ve been working a very tight budget. We’ve had meager birthdays and Christmases but Mini-Me and The Weez have been so tolerant and empathetic. What amazing kids I have!

Well, I have one more birthday surprise to hopefully turn this around for The Weez. We’re going to the DMV. Yes, that’s right, folks! The Weez is going for her permit today!!

Happy birthday The Weez. I’m sorry that it was not the birthday we planned. You (and The Boy and Mini-Me) make me so proud. I love you.

The Weez has her permit!

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I Did a Bad, Bad Thing.

Mini-Me is a high school senior. She and her dad have been doing all the college application stuff with little involvement from me. Frankly, I like it this way. She’s stubborn (like me) so I have no advice to offer that she’d value (according to her). If I get involved, then Mini-Me and I are sure to start WWIII.

She only applied to 3 colleges. One was her choice; the other 2 applications were obligatory because of her dad and me. Of course, we wanted her to apply to more universities, but she didn’t. Again, I stayed quiet for prior reasons stated.

Mini-Me was accepted quickly into the school of her choice. Of course. Do you want to know why she wanted to go there? Her boyfriend. Yep, her boyfriend. She NEVER would’ve picked this school otherwise. N E V E R.

A month goes by and still no word on the other college choices. She told me that she was going to the school of her choice, so I never questioned that the other 2 schools had yet to accept or deny her. Her dad was not happy about her choice and pushed the issue. We found out that her high school overlooked sending her official transcripts which resulted in the delay. Within a few short weeks of receiving her official transcripts, we heard from her dad’s choice. ACCEPTED!! Bummer because this was Mini-Me’s and my least favorite choice.

Fast forward two weeks and still no answer from the university of my choice. I keep asking and she keeps checking the mail. Actually, she’s been a mail-checking freak. Ever since she was accepted into her least favorite choice, she thought hearing from my choice would help her in her rebuttal for us to allow her to attend her choice. Also, my choice is the lessor evil if she can’t go to her school.

Friday was my birthday and Good Friday. Guess what came in the mail on Friday? Guess who was off from work for Good Friday and was able to check the mail instead of Mini-Me? Yep, c’est moi.

I open the mail box and find the letter. The very flat envelope. The very thin, see through envelope. I don’t know what came over me. No, I didn’t open the letter but I held that sucker in the sun until enough light filtered through to read the REJECTION. GASP! WHAT THE BLANKETY-BLANK-BLANK!?!?!?

Cue, Chris Isaak.
http://youtu.be/a7a35GnfPTc

It’s MY birthday. I’ll be d@mned if I break this news to Mini-Me. Birthdays suck enough when you’re single. I’m not adding fuel to this fire.

I hid the letter.

My girls and I celebrated my birthday. It was wonderful. They treated me to a very swanky dinner and gave me awesome gifts: a mega wine cup and tennis gear. I love that they get me.

Now that my birthday is over, it’s Easter weekend. I am NOT breaking this news on Easter.

The letter stays hidden.

Now it’s Monday. Not that God supports lies, He must be behind this because the kids are not home when I come home from work. Mini-Me has not checked the mail. This is it. This is my opportunity to plant the letter with today’s mail.

Here goes nothing.