FANCY THAT FANCY THIS

For years other parents have been warning me that it only gets harder.

The truth is that I laughed at these warnings, knowing that NOTHING could be harder than the non-stop diaper changing, the sleepless nights, the formula mixing, the bottle cleaning, the sleep training, the potty training…and don’t forget the terrifying Costco runs.

(I haven’t been back to Costco since Maya stopped wearing diapers. I cut up my membership that day and will never go back. There are few things more dangerous than a Costco parking lot.)

And while I’d rather do anything than any of the above, I will admit that Maya has been working my last nerve the last few months. Not sure how things are going to progress but Maya’s just 10 and I’m already over:

• the drama (“I HATE French and I HATE math and I HATE things that aren’t fun.”)
• the teen lingo (“That’s amazeballs.” Really?)
• the obsession with technology (I couldn’t give a @#$% about Minecraft. Seriously, I have no idea what it is and don’t want to know.)
• the lack of appreciation for all that I do for her (I still do her hair and make her lunch for crying out loud.)

Just one picture this time…there haven’t been too many photo ops since we’ve been at odds with each other.

The icing on the cake was this past Sunday, when I insisted she practice her French on the iPad for 20 minutes, before we headed out for lunch. My reward for that apparently offensive suggestion was for her to ignore me for the hour it took to walk to Soho.

I was tempted to keep walking to see if she’d finally ask “How much farther?” but lunch was calling my name. (I’ll save that experiment for the next bout of silent treatment.)

Looking back I should have just enjoyed the silence and turned on my audio book. That’s what Ali would have done, I’m sure. But instead I cycled between anger and frustration at her lack of respect (and yes, even admiration – I had to take a moment to appreciate her ability to not speak for an entire hour to prove her point).

Need to nip this in the bud…any and all suggestions are welcome.

You must be thinking…two posts in one week Ameena? Something very important must have happened to justify this!

Well, not really. But I feel COMPELLED to relay details about the mother sitting next to me on my flight to LAX this past Friday.

On my flight to LA…love the snow covered mountains.

First off, she had the coveted aisle seat, which probably kicked our 5 hour and 14 minute relationship off on the wrong foot. (Although the seating arrangements were obviously my own fault!)

And she didn’t share well, hogging up the table between our seats with her numerous cups of tea, water, and wine, and buckets of cashews and cookies (often all at once).

But what really troubled me about this lady was that she got up 251 times during the flight to cater to her two whiny children who occupied the two seats across the aisle.

Watching the sunset from my parents house.

So if these kids were little I’d totally get it. I mean, nobody needs to relay the importance of quick airplane reflexes when your child barfs at the drop of a hat. But these kids were barf-free (not even a threat), and at 8 and 10 years old were definitely old enough to:

• Tie their own shoes. (Seriously, she tied her son’s shoes.)
• Adjust their own seat.
• Find their own iPad / book / earphones.
• Reach into their carry-on, in front of THEIR feet, to get their own salami. (Not really sure what to say about the salami. Really I just don’t.)

A half picture of the very pretty Rosario Dawson, who sat in front of me on my way back to NYC this morning.

I’m looking deep (very deep) inside to see if I’m really just jealous that this selfless mom had no problem getting up 251 times during the flight…or if I’m just allergic to lazy, spoiled children.

I know I’m unfairly judging right now but I’m tired and jet-lagged from my red-eye home this AM. Plus I just cleaned out the fridge, emptied my suitcase, made the beds, emptied the dishwasher, and cleaned Maya’s breakfast dishes.

Maybe my flight companion and I had more in common than I initially thought?

Me: “As soon a Dad gets back to NYC I’m going to LA for a few days. Okay?”

Maya: “Okay. But what are Dad and I going to eat while you’re gone?”

My first thought:@#$%@#.

At a restaurant…because Maya was hungry.

My second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts:

• Have we really made so little progress since the first time I left her with Ali 2 years ago?
• I’m confused. The way she’s acting you’d think I cook like Ina Garten. Is she forgetting I opened a can of sodium-laden Trader Joe’s Chicken Noodle soup for her dinner tonight?

Maya about to eat….

• Apparently she’s not going to miss me at all, just my skills with the Oxo can opener.
• Ali’s been out of town since mid-December. Funny how she posed no questions about how she and I were going to manage when he left to be wherever in the universe he happens to be right now.

You guessed it…Maya eating!

I think it’s ironic that I – a person who thinks so little about food – lives with 2 people who are obsessed with their next meal.

I’ve decided that this time around I’m not going to worry about their food situation. After all, if they can’t manage on their own for a whopping 67 hours I just don’t know what to say.

**Note. That last paragraph is totally false. Of course I’m going to worry what they’re eating. I’m already worried and I haven’t left yet. Sigh.