I Will Never Fit In, And I Blame John Hughes

I will never fit in, and I blame John Hughes.

Growing up in the 1980s, John Hughes movies were my everything. I related to a lot of the movies--I grew up in a mostly white middle to upper middle class suburb, I had divorced parents, I desperately wanted to fit in but also wanted to be different, and I had a crush on the cute guy down the street that looked like Jake from "Sixteen Candles."

I wonder what happened to all the John Hughes characters as grown ups...what do their lives look like now in their 40s and, gulp, 50s.   Here's one version I recently read about Sam from Sixteen Candles (click here to read it) but what about all the non-Sam Bakers/Molly Ringwolds? 

The character I most related to isn't from the bigger hits like Sixteen Candles or Breakfast Club or even Pretty in Pink. Nope the movie I loved was Some Kind of Wonderful, and the character that I felt the most like was Watts. The misfit drummer who was best friends with guys, had a dysfunctional family, played the drums and wore kickass fringe gloves. 


And she said things like "It's 1987, a woman can be anything she wants to be." She was my angsty feminist icon before I knew what that was. She was weird, misunderstood and just wanted to be respected AND loved. And she didn't love rich people. She had a big chip on her shoulder. 

That was what I felt like. Except I was too scared to wear the gloves in high school and never played the drums.

In almost every other way she was me, I was her. 

In the end of the movie, Watts found some good in a few rich people and got a nice-ish guy. 

(The above pics: me during the actual John Hughes movie years and me in the post John Hughes movie years...less attitude, but still an are you kidding me kind of expression/disbelief/wonder at life/circumstances/luck...)

Fast forward 30 years and um, I still feel a lot like Watts. I still feel like a misfit--weird, misunderstood and I want to be respected AND loved. I got a nice guy (a very nice guy), live in a different but still mostly white middle-upper-class suburb, and also feel distrust of the rich (leftover from not just John Hughes movies, but all 1980s movies, think Karate Kid, Can't Buy Me Love...dude, all the rich white people were so over the top, the poor guys=the good guys...Right? Remember Daniel Son from Karate Kid who lived in an apartment with his mom who drove an old stationwagon and had to battle the awful rich guys from the fancy karate studio?).

Now I'm a mom driving the beat-up, rusty minivan (my version of Daniel Son's mom's station wagon) and trying to figure out life in my post John Hughes world...adulthood. This past fall my oldest was going to his high school homecoming dance with a group of friends. The friend's house where the parents were gathering to take pictures of everyone was owned by a dad who drives a Lamborghini, I felt my inner Watts starting to come out. I was judging that dad like he was the bad guy in an eighties movie. I said things to my kid like "money isn't everything" and felt like I needed to be in a drumming montage. It turned out that the dad seemed nice and my kid just rolled with it all and had a great/drama-free time at homecoming (so un-John Hughes movie-esque).

But I mean really, I still have all these 80s feelings. But now my role is an over-worried, underpaid mom of teens just trying to pay the bills, keep my kids healthy, happy and out of rehab, and stay married. It's a lot. I remember watching Sixteen Candles and being horrified that parents would forget their 16-year-old's birthday, but now I totally get it! 

I find myself channeling my inner Watts and other misfit characters from John Hughes movies. I drive around in my rusty minivan trying to hold it together and hold my head up and not be too judgey (of others or myself). Sometimes when I'm walking the dogs (because of course none of my kids will) I walk across a field and hold one fist up in the air like Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club. When the nice guy that I married takes me on a date I say let's get drunk at Chili's because I know that is what Watts would do, while all the Molly Ringwolds and Lea Thompsons of the suburbs are going to the trendy restaurants that cost a gajillion dollars after shopping at LuluLemon (not that I'm judging, nope I'm rebelling like a sad middle age bad ass). And always wishing for a dance off in a dimly lit gymnasium or a kind loving parental figure to give me some good advice while synthesized music plays from somewhere in the background.

Me getting drunk at Chili's while my good guy looks at Twitter...modern romance. Would this be Watts' life?

Maybe I'm thinking about my teen angst and how John Hughes movies wrecked my perspective because having teenagers is intense (and trigger-y AF). It's nerve-wracking and anxiety inducing and interesting and exciting and  overwhelming and fucking exhausting. Phones and sexting and vaping and driving and bullying on social media and the list of worries and things that could go wrong goes on and on. All while I'm trying to manage my own hormones and mid-life bullshit and not repeat my parents' mistakes and try and finally grow up. 

A lot of the times, I find myself wondering what would Watts do? I mean really, WWWD (What WOULD Watts Do?)?!?!?!?!

I need to see THAT movie. I'm a mess. Thanks a lot John Hughes.

Maybe it's actually not such a horrible thing that I'm so in tune with my inner angsty teen. I mean, maybe John Hughes wasn't only making movies so I could relate to teens when I WAS one, but also for when I had them of my own. I mean the only thing weirder than parenting a teenager is being one. 

Life is hard and weird and so many of us feel like we don't fit in when we are young and old and in between. I personally think it's kind of a cruel joke that teenage hormones and midlife hormones happen at the same time in the same house for a lot of us. 

I know for sure that I would totally want to see the movie about a middle age bad ass Watts figuring shit out while drumming in her garage to get away from her own teenagers and maybe getting high in the library after a heated booster club meeting with a bunch of middle age parents from different cliques who also need to remember what it was like to be angsty and how hard it is to parent kids who are mad at them but still need them and how rejection sucks no matter how old you are and how it doesn't matter who we all voted for in any election because us parents have to stick together if we are going to get through this whole midlife raising teenager business, and then they'd all do a dance, and the nice guy would take Watts to Chili's and get drunk and she would put her fringed gloved fist in the air saying hell yeah it's still a John Hughes movie kind of world...cue synthesized music...end scene...roll credits.

Me on a good day feeling like I got this,
 in an Uncle Buck kind of hat. Don't even get me started about how much  I love John Candy John Hughes movies like Uncle Buck and Planes,Trains & Automobiles because I LOVE them.

I will never fit in and I guess John Hughes, you were right, that's not such a bad thing.



Oh my god, I love this.

Acceptance--Confessions of a Middle Age Sports Mom

"I take Xanax during the first quarter of every game."

"I eat like a Labrador Retriever...my stomach would explode if someone didn't stop me."

"Pass the chips."

"I did the least amount of volunteering this season because I was intimidated by all of you."

Insert nervous laughter after each one of these phrases and picture a middle-age woman with bad roots and tired eyes. Now imagine a group of very put together women staring at her not exactly sure what to say. The scene has been set. Not for a bad dream or a joke. Nope, this was the scene of my first Football Mom Lunch a few weeks ago with the high school varsity football moms.*
(*All the varsity football moms were incredibly nice to me.)

I don't know what made me act like I was sitting on my therapist's couch. It's pretty true to form though for me to over talk and say stupid shit when I'm nervous. Even though I am in my 40s and have reached a level of acceptance that can only be had once hormone levels have spiked and bottomed out multiple times (yeah, I'm one big perimenopausal punchline)--I still got nervous and did the whole over talk/over reveal thing. 

Maybe I did/do it because it lowers all expectations of me and there's only going up from there. Maybe it's because I really believe in keeping it real. Maybe I did/do it because it's just who I am, and I guess I can accept that.

I have to accept that I am a nervous, worried, overtalking, always keeping it real kind of mom who doesn't care what people think but totally cares what people think at the same time. I have to accept that not everyone is going to think that's charming, or want to talk about hormones, or like my kid, or like me. 

I have to accept that I might always eat too many chips and need Xanax at Friday night football games. But I also am accepting that I am learning to be a better "sports mom." I'm learning to be more supportive of my kids and what they are passionate about even though I worry about them (a lot). I'm also learning to lean on other moms and families and support their kids and their teams. And I'm learning that I kind of like watching my kids play football.

fortysomething

When I turned 40 I thought I had figured some things out. I thought well, now I've totally got this. I know how to say no and set boundaries, I've had the babies and I'm over that stage, I got a couple jobs and became a working mother, I didn't think twice about panty lines or a little extra  weight, I felt accomplished because I was still in love with my husband. I mean I really had my shit together and I was ready for the 40s and beyond. Or so I thought.

I've been 43 for about a month and I can tell you, I'm way less certain about everything.

The 40s aren't exactly like I thought they would be. I'm still wildly happy in my marriage and still have a couple jobs to manage. But this parenting older kids worry coupled with perimenopausal hormone surges and anxiety, um it is rough.

This is how I felt right before I turned 39. This picture was taken at my first Listen To Your Mother show in Detroit.

This is me at this year's Listen To Your Mother show in Detroit. Um, yeah..pictures are worth a thousand words. This is how I feel about 43 and beyond.

It's weird because I feel stronger in some ways and more accepting of myself and others now that I'm in my mid-forties. But I also feel so worried about everything---my kids driving, putting too much pressure on my kids, not putting enough pressure on my kids, drugs!, people I love getting sick, me getting sick, football, not enough money, college expenses, global warming, war, my kids driving, drugs!....and the worry loop continues. I mean I'm not worrying about these things every minute, but the worries get so big with big kids and it can be overwhelming.

I'm still a positive person, but also a worry person. I'm more vulnerable and I'm trying to find strength in that instead of just resentment and fear. I guess the older I'm getting the more I appreciate everything and I'm so grateful for my life, and I'm afraid of losing it (it being all the good stuff).

That's my truth right now. This is my fortysomething. This is me at 43.

              ***************

People may accuse me of being a little kooky and a worrywort or an oversharer and a lot of other things. BUT they can never accuse me of being a poker face or unemotional. I own it. I'm cool with it. I actually find it pretty funny.

This made me laugh...

Mother Yourself

I've been a mother for fifteen and a half years. 

In this picture I had been a mother for 2 days!!!!

I know a thing or two. I know that, sweet Jesus, it can be different for everyone. Like an autoimmune disease, motherhood is full of symptoms/characteristics that are unique for each individual. 

Some of us love the baby years. Some of us love when the kids get older. Some of us hate being a stay-at-home mom. Some of us struggle being a working mom. Some of us are helicopters. Some of us escape into our phones and reality TV. Some of us are totally chill and some of us need Xanax. Some of us loved being pregnant. Some of us didn't. Some of us thought it would be different. Some of us are surprised that we can love someone so much.

All of us have our own mother story--how we became mothers, why we wanted to be mothers, what we did to become mothers, how much we love our own mothers, how much we miss our mothers, how we survived our mothers...yup, everyone has a mother story.

Mother's Day is a chance to celebrate or honor all those stories. 

And you can do that however you want. Mother's Day can be about brunch with all the kids and in-laws if that's your thing. It can also be about going on a long run alone to think about everything good and bad or nothing at all. No matter what our story is, I think Mother's Day should be a day of self care. Mother yourself. Do something that makes YOU happy. Sleep in. Hug someone. Do not feel obligated to celebrate Mother's Day, or any holiday, in any way that makes you feel shitty or unauthentic (seriously, it just makes bad feelings worse and life is too short for that). Forgive yourself (for imperfections, expectations, and everything). Think about people that mothered you but weren't your mother, and maybe call them or text them. Smile and think about how mother stories are all of our stories.

Baby Wade

I posted this picture on Instagram with this caption:
I spent a decade with a baby on my hip. And a lot of those years were at a ball field like this picture. We are still at the ball fields, but no babies. In fact, I'm staring down/at the beginning of a decade of teenagers. Taking deep breaths. Trying to find a balance between freaking the fuck out and we totally got this. Miss the babies but love seeing who they are growing up to become. And so grateful for the chance to mother my kids. #motherhood #momoffour #mothersday #gratitude #throwbackthursday

Kind of dig these mom papparazi photos I've been finding lately.
I love looking back and remembering what it was like mothering little kids. I'm one of those moms who freakin loved it.

My kiddos when they were little kiddos.

Awww, I'm one of those annoying dog moms too! 

This was Mother's Day just a few years ago and woah, they all look so young.

Some Good Mothers Day Stuff:

• Such a f*&%ing good commercial. 

(Click here to watch the video)

• One of my fav go-to songs about motherhood and life.

  (Click here to watch the video)

• This video made me cry. It also gave me so much empathy and mad respect for mothers of sick kids.

  (Click here to watch the video.)

• This is a moving piece/video tells the story about mothers in jail and how that impacts families.

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/11/opinion/mothers-day.html?_r=0

• This mom movie will always make me laugh. I LOVE it.

(Click here to watch the video)

Happy Mother's Day to Everyone!
SaveSave

I Have A Teenage Daughter

"When Lucy was 4 or 5, we asked her what she wanted to try," I recalled. "Do you want to try soccer or tennis or dance? What do you want to do?," I told everyone I had probably read in a parenting magazine that it was good to empower the children and give them a voice in what activities they did. "Lucy looked right at me and she said dreamily, 'I want to learn to ride unicorns.' I was like whaaaaat?" We all laughed and laughed.

I told that story while we ate cake and celebrated Lucy turning 13. The other night we sat around the table as a family and each told a story, or two, about Lucy. It's a tradition we started on Peyton's 13th birthday. We needed a family ritual to honor the children becoming teenagers and storytelling seemed like a good one. 





Peyton told the story about Lucy saying she wanted to be "a cop" at preschool graduation. Wade and JT told stories about hanging out and playing with Lucy. Tim and I told stories about Lucy's independence and imagination and how she has always read at all the boys' games and her standing up for herself on the playground and making us laugh and more.

This is a timeline that Lucy made of her life in first grade circa 2010. She had to pick a few moments that impacted her life. She picked "helping get the president elected" in 2008. I have loved having her with me canvassing, at the rallies and protests and meetings over the years. I am glad it impacts her. I love watching her form her own opinions and beliefs about the world as she gets older.

I have a teenage daughter. That sounds weird. I feel like I just was a teenage daughter. 

My teenage daughterhood actually haunts me a bit.  It wasn't great. It was terrible actually. This is a story I didn't share the other night but it shaped who I am as a person and a mother. When I was 12 I started my period and my parents got divorced. When I was 13 I started acting out and my mother started having a mental breakdown. She and I both started drinking and smoking around then too. Three turbulent years later, both my parents lived in different states and I was living with another family trying to figure out how to grow up. It was a lot of life for both my mother and me.

Now that I have a teenage daughter of my own, I have mixed feelings. I can't imagine going through a divorce and a mental breakdown while having ego-centric/hormonal/emotional teenagers. My heart breaks for my mom and I understand her better. I understand a little more why she drank and self-medicated, not knowing the powerful and horrific genetic disposition for addiction she possessed. 

But I'm also terrified. I don't know how to have a teenage daughter.

"You are not mom," my sister texted me a couple months ago. It's a reminder I need a lot. I know I'm not. I mean I have a great marriage and a stable life. I'm not an addict. I'm not my mom. And Lucy isn't me.

Sitting at the table the other night listening to all the stories about Lucy and watching her smile and feel loved, made me so happy. Lucy is smart and kind and sensible. She loves to read. A lot. She is witty. She is quietly very brave and has very high standards. She knows she is loved. 

As we manage our way through these next few years, I will work on not taking things personally (holy shit this is so hard for me! Waaaa!) and not always expecting the worst things to happen. I will have faith in the foundation of love and stability that Tim and I  have worked so hard to build and provide our family. 

I am not my mother and Lucy is not me. Sure she'll make mistakes and so will I. But we are forging a new path of motherhood and daughterhood. Not my past, but our future. 

This is right after we gave each other makeovers (I went a little heavy on the makeup! lol) and we tried to do serious poses. Which made us laugh and laugh because we looked like some cheap poster for a creepy low-budget Lifetime movie about a tired mom and a rebellious teen. LOL.

Based on what I've read in parenting books and seen on TV and movies, it's going to be a bumpy ride but we'll get to the other side. And yes, I secretly hope we'll be best friends on the other side and tell each other everything, but trying not to put too many expectations or pressure on that. Lol.

So, hello 13. Hello having a teenage daughter. Here we goooooooo!

She's the Rory to my Lorelei. She is serious and sensible and witty. I am more immature at times than she is. 

She's got the teenage selfie/pout face/duck lip thing down.

She's a good big sister most of the time.

She and Tim are very close. She has a great father.

I love her so much.