Guess That Will Teach Her to Listen to Me

All eighth graders were required to write a graduation speech and present them to their class. The top few would be chosen for the graduation ceremony. Sabrina panicked. "What if I get picked? I hate speaking in front of people, especially my classmates!" I said, "How many are in your class? 100? What are the chances of you actually getting picked? Just complete the assignment and forget about it."

Two weeks later, she comes storming into the house after school. "I can't believe it! I'm in the finals!" A week after that, "Thanks for that stellar advice, mom. Guess who got picked to give their speech at graduation? And my teacher, who KNOWS I don't like speaking in public, told me I was in and then gave me an evil grin." And because we are also evil and delight in torturing our children, David and I did not let her back out.

I am sure you will not be surprised to hear that she rocked her speech on graduation night. The following is a transcript of her speech. (I have no clue where she got that sarcastic sense of humor. It must be from her father's side of the family.)

Graduation Speech

My name is Sabrina George. When I saw the words "Graduation Speech Draft due Tuesday" on the homework board, fear was struck in my heart. Then, it got worse. My teacher handed us a packet, with prompts and sentence-starters that were so cheesy it was almost funny. And my personal running commentary said, there is no way in the world you are going to write a speech that starts with "I looked back to the day we started at this school, and saw lost little children running around without a clue, and thought, my how we've grown," or "We were challenged, and as a team we overcame those challenges," or something equally cliché. This is middle school, people, not happy-go-lucky Rainbow Land. So I decided to make my speech to you honest.

There have been some extremely rare, extremely special moments (for example, I'm up here speaking to you) and there have also been many moments of chaos, disruption and drama. We've also grown a lot, and before you say, oh no, she's a hypocrite, let me say this: It's true. I'm taller, by at least a half inch. And really, it's more important to take away the few great memories, the little joys, than to think back on middle school and say, wow, it wasn't all that great, really. Especially since it’s hard not to have a good time at this school.

Over the course of this year, I have changed, as well as the rest of you probably have. I have gotten braver, toughing it with no shortage of melodrama through all of the incredible challenges a middle school girl faces. For example, getting a good grade on a test when you were daydreaming about your celebrity crush for the duration of the unit. Or the daunting task of making it through a mini day when you've forgotten your lip gloss. These formidable obstacles help shape a teen, making her stronger. But this isn’t supposed to be all about me, I will acknowledge that the rest of you have become pretty awesome too.

We have done a ton of fun stuff together this year; "studying", enduring spirit rallies, you name it. We also get to see our friends, which is the whole point of school, anyway, right? We love our friends, and some of our best memories are because of them. Our friends help us through the bad times, which means we need them pretty much all through middle school. We also laugh with them, vent to them about our terrible lives, and make memories with them. Our friends being there means we find a way to have a great time and goof off no matter the circumstances. That's part of why this year has been so good.

This school is really awesome, and that helps too. We have great teachers, and two whole free periods for working on our “homework”. And even though we would rather be at home watching TV, listening to music or hanging outside, we have to admit the curriculum is good. I've actually learned a bunch of stuff this year, and getting good grades has been more challenging.

High school is coming. I know that many people "encourage their fellow graduates to look forward" to harder classes and stricter rules, but quite frankly, I'm scared. I keep imagining big things with sharp teeth waiting for me at the end of summer break… High school is going to be new, and different, and we're going to have to grow into it.

This year has been cool overall, and next year, although bound to be fraught with danger, will bring more exciting adventures and challenges. Good luck!

Mum's the Word

Rose used to be a chatterbox. She would speak for long periods of time on any subject that was on her mind, and she would speak so quickly that it was very tough to get a word in edgewise. Basically, your job was to just nod and interject an, "Oh, really?" from time to time. But as she has approached the teenage years, that communication flow has slowed from a roaring rapid to a slow trickle. Most days she won't speak to me at all. I just get a head nod or eye roll. And if talking is absolutely unavoidable, she'll throw an unintelligible grunt in my general direction. I've become an expert in interpreting grunts. If there was an exam to test fluency in grunting, I would knock it out of the park. I've seen her talking animatedly to friends, so obviously it's not that she doesn't want to talk; she just doesn't want to talk to mom. I won't deny that it's worried me a little. I used to think quiet would be a blessed relief after Sabrina's constant histrionics, but I was wrong. At least with Sabrina I know everything since her life motto is, "No thought left unsaid!" It can be wearying, but I know exactly where I stand and what's going on. Rose is a mystery.

Then, the other night I was curled up in a chair in the corner of our family room reading a book. David and Rose came and sat down at the dining room table while David helped her with her math homework. They worked on algebra for 30 minutes or so, and then the conversation opened up. Rose started asking David questions. They talked about school, grades, when to starting thinking about college, boys, soccer, and the best way to write the letter "G". I stayed absolutely still, trying to make myself invisible. It was such a wonder to hear her open up and talk, I didn't want to ruin it. I just sat there and listened with a smile in my heart, thanking God for my husband.

100 Days

A few months ago I wrote about how my husband had lost his mind. He wanted to get back into being a serious runner, and this is how he proposed to accomplish this. On Saturday he completed his goal of running for 100 consecutive days. My hat is off to him.

While I'm very proud of him, it still irks me that I can't claim to have done the same thing. He is completely crazy, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to compete. This is difficult, however, because I have no desire whatsoever to run, or do anything really, for 100 days. So I started thinking, what could I do for 100 days straight? Or, better yet, what have I already done so I could immediately start claiming a victory? Here is a list of some ideas I came up with.

100 days of . . .

1.  No vegetables.

2.  Drinking wine.

3.  Yelling at my kids.

4.  Sleeping.

5.  Crankiness.

I'm open to other suggestions. Help me reach my goal.

Eclipse

Maybe it's just because I'm not a science fiend, but I thought the eclipse didn't quite live up to its hype. It was much more fascinating to watch the people in our neighborhood all gather with their cardboard projectors and try to interest the kids, most of whom quickly lost interest and left to go play with their bikes and skateboards or, in the case of my son, go inside to play video games.

I will admit sunlight coming through the trees made for some pretty patterns.

Rose making a video for her science teacher

Sabrina is just worried about how the eclipse might affect the Doctor

Tears for Who?

I'm upstairs folding laundry when all of a sudden I hear hysterical sobbing. It goes on and on and does not stop, so eventually I go to investigate, in case someone has died.

Sabrina is on the couch crying as if her life was ending. I ask her what's the matter, and after a while I piece the story together through her sobs and sniffles. Apparently, she had just finished the season two finale of Doctor Who (new version) and was devastated to find that Rose and the Doctor were separated . . . forever.

Into the Wild

Rose: We're going whitewater rafting this summer, right?

David: Yes.

Rose: What class of rapids will there be?

David: I think it's class 2 and 3, honey.

Rose: Well, that's a little disappointing. I was hoping for 4.

David: I think you'll have fun anyway.

Rose: I don't know, Dad. You know I'm an adventure-in-the-wild type of gal.

This from the girl who refused to ride her bike without training wheels until she was nine.

Little Monster

Me: That's Rose's bracelet. You might want to ask her before you wear it.

Sabrina: No, I don't think I'll say anything. I bet she won't even notice.

A short time later. . .

S: Rose! You're wearing my hair clip. You can't wear my hair clip!

Me: (just looking at her in disbelief)

S: (grinning) I am aware of the irony here.