Summertime Blues, Part II

This kid has way too much unstructured time on her hands.  I hate Summertime for that reason.  Year-round school would probably be the answer, but this town has been there and done that.  I was devastated when "they" decided to return to the traditional school calendar a few years back.

Last night she and a few little girlfriends got all "painted and powdered up" (one of my favorite sayings from my Okie Aunt Mary) and headed for the movies to see Mr.and Mrs. Smith. After what I went through with Bubba during his teenage years, Ab's propensity for depression and for having a real difficult time telling the truth, I have some serious concern and trust issues going on here. 

I feel a healthy dose of paranoia can't hurt, so I give her the expectation speech and threaten her with her life and again advise her of the fact that this mama is crazy enough to snatch her outta a crowd if she so much ventures one inch off the beaten path, while walking to the nearby movie theatre.  I warn her that there better be no miscommunication when it comes to what parent is picking them up because if I something happens where she "has to" walk home (classic manipulation)...she's in some serious, serious trouble.  I see one of the girl's eyes get big as if that original brainstorm was a consideration at one point and I am sure that idea gets squashed once they walk out the door. They think adults are just so stupid.    Been there and done that myself.

Recent attempts at manipulation has been to not answer "her" cell phone because it was on "Silent" and she didn't hear it.  BS.  I remind her that the only reason she has a cell phone is because I pay for a family plan and the whole idea is for her to be accessable to ME.  I don't care for one minute if she can be in contact with her friends.  So, the last time she didn't answer her cellphone "because it was on silent" I promptly drove to where she was, called off the fun, put her fanny in the car, and confiscated "MY" cell phone for several days.   She's learning. 

Her therapist recently said that raising teenagers is like having a two year old again....You have to watch them every minute and keep dangerous things outta their reach!  I thought that was an outstanding analogy.  Especially fitting  this morning, when I found a box that she's decorated with the words..BOX FULL OF SHARP OBJECTS...containing a razor blade..and some of Papa's diabetic finger lancets. 

Arrrgggghhh!  

More later.