I used to know where my stuff was....

I went looking for my makeup removing towelettes this morning. Couldn't find them. Why? Because I have teenagers. This got me thinking about how things have definitely changed since my babies turned into teens. For instance, I remember when I used to be able to go into my makeup bag, locate my eyeliner, put on that eyeliner and then put it back in my makeup bag. Now I can't find my makeup bag. Because, teens.

And when I look in that 10x magnifying mirror at all the dark hair crawling around over my eyes like a caterpillar moving across my forehead, I mourn the loss of my tweezers, which have disappeared into the abyss that is the girls bathroom in my house. Those girls, however, have PERFECTLY coiffed eyebrows. Thanks to my tweezers. Wherever they are.

Their nails are perfectly clipped, thanks to my nail clippers. Which I haven't seen in weeks. MY toenails are practically clawing at the ground when I walk because they've gotten so long. But in order to clip them, someone would have to locate my nail clippers. Naturally, NO ONE knows where they are because apparently I'M the only one in the house that uses them. Their nails are perfectly clipped, but I'M the only one who uses the nail clippers. Whatever.

Scissors? Tape? I buy them new every Christmas. Why? Teens.

I don't bother painting my nails anymore, because why bother? My nail polish remover and cotton balls have mysteriously vanished into thin air. Naturally, no one has seen them. My husband takes pleasure in helping me out by telling me that he never uses the stuff. Thanks honey, you're a huge help.

Stuff my husband doesn't use. Just so you know.

I've taken to hiding things that I just refuse to have stolen part with. My deodorant is now in my sock drawer. Shampoo and conditioner? I hide those in my closet under my shoe rack and take them in when I shower each day. Razor? Underwear drawer. Shaving cream? The garage, where else??

One good thing about being shorter and heavier than my girls: they don't steal my pants. Oh sure, back a few years ago when 17 was a freshman and I was 30 lbs lighter, I attended her band concert and asked my husband what pants she had on (I could see her white socks like she was Michael Jackson without the glove) and he told me they were mine. She was wearing my size 6 pants. Sure she was too tall for them (hence the white socks showing) but they fit her. See? Maybe there IS an upside to being short and heavy. That's my new story and I'm sticking with it. So pass me another donut.

Yep, I remember back when I could find things, like money in my wallet, food in my pantry, quiet in my house and the ever-important thing to find: my sanity. But alas, those days are gone. They've been replaced by teenagers.
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Being a parent is hard, yo!

As I prepare to begin my oldest's last year of high school and my youngest's first, I can honestly say I'm filled with so many different emotions:

Fear: What if my oldest doesn't get into a good college and is forced to continue living at home and working at Dairy Queen? Free Blizzards aside, it would be awful for both her AND me. I love that girl, but she needs to learn the responsibility of getting up on her own, getting out the door on time and becoming a mature, responsible person. She is almost 17 and is too old for me to be her personal alarm clock. When I was finishing up my senior year of high school, my mom had moved up to Atlantic City from where we lived in Wildwood because she took a casino job and the 2 hour round trip commute was just too much. She came home on her days off, but I was left with the responsibility of getting myself to and from school, on time, every day. If I made a mess, there was no one else in the house to clean it up. Me thinks almost-17 needs a taste of responsibility.

Sadness: So many of my friends have high school graduates who are either going off to their first year of college or returning for their second year. Those young adults are spending less and less time at home. Some have on-campus jobs that require them NOT to come home for the summer. Forgetting everything I've written up there in that first category, how can it be that in just a year, my oldest will be leaving me, possibly for longer than I'm ready to have her gone? Last week she was a curious 5 year old running up and down the soccer field chasing a soccer ball with 12 other 5 year olds. Just this weekend she was an awkward middle schooler with glasses and braces. And wasn't it only yesterday that she was starting out her freshman year of high school, curious about making new friends and enjoying her time as one of the only 2 freshman on the varsity basketball team? What happened??

Pride: I could NOT be more proud of this child if I tried. Sometimes I'm so filled with pride I feel like I could explode. She's become such an amazing, beautiful and talented young woman that sometimes it's hard to get mad at her for missing the bus. I said sometimes. She's funny as hell, she is helpful to those around her, she's great with kids, patient and kind (kids who aren't her sister, that is). There is another reason that I'm so proud of her that I will talk about another time, but suffice it to say, she's pretty freaking awesome and I wonder how it is that we've raised such a great kid. She didn't come with instructions, yet we've managed to do something right, because she continues to make me proud almost daily.

Excitement: Am I scared to death? Yes. As her mom I'm frightened, since the future is so unknown, but she's smart and will do wonderful things. When she puts her mind to something, there's no stopping her. So I'm excited for her as she enters her senior year in high school and I know that this will be a year full of crazy fun memories for her, and I'm so excited and happy for her that she's as outgoing as she is, with a fantastic group of friends whom I love. Knowing what a great year she'll have definitely leaves me excited for her. But then come graduation, go back and read this list in order. Then repeat.

Being a parent is hard, yo.