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Curses, Attitudes, and School Supplies

Melissa Beene Ford/ Uncategorized

Originally posted August 2016

School supply shopping day is one of my favorite days all year long.

Except when it isn’t.

See, up until now, my girls have been at this sweet age where EVERYTHING IS SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, they love their mama, they’re grateful for whatever school supplies I choose for them with, you know, puppies and kittens, we buy all the cute, fun things then go eat Mexican food, laugh, and snuggle. It’s been our annual tradition forever.


They say that having a teenager changes things.

I didn’t believe them, because a) I’m a better parent than most, I secretly thought, all self-righteous and proud, and b) my daughter and I are just CLOSE, and we always have been, and we won’t have any of those teenage shenanigans that other, lesser parents struggle with. The teenage years will just be a breeze for US, I thought, right up until some point in roughly 2014-ish when I started having homicidal thoughts toward my offspring on account of the eye-rolling.

But in addition to the lovely teenager moments I’m enduring, I ALSO HAVE  A THREE-YEAR-OLD. A lively, rambunctious little thing who wasn’t going to WANT to sit still in the buggy while the other three of us pick out all the super fun school supplies on their lists.

I foresaw the chaos and turmoil to come in the school supply aisle, what with a rambunctious three-year-old and all, and I had the wisdom and maturity to preempt it with a little bribery.

“Susie,” I said, with all the excitement in my voice, “If YOU can sit really, really quietly in the buggy, and you’re really, really patient while WE shop, then YOU CAN PICK SOME SCHOOL SUPPLIES!!!!! I’ll let you pick ONE notebook and some PAINT!!!! But ONLY IF you’re QUIET and PATIENT!!!!”

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Susie, the girl who will behave for school supplies. Sort of.

Oh, I talked it up. And Susie agreed to the terms, because NEW SCHOOL SUPPLIES, y’all. And I brought an iPad to distract her, and I hooked that sucker up to the free wifi, and rolled on into the school supply section, super confident that THIS WOULD BE A PIECE OF CAKE…

…but apparently it was all just TOO MUCH for Susie.

Because pencils and markers everywhere. Folders with NEMO and ELSA and ANNA AND ALL HER FAVORITE DISNEY FRIENDS, y’all. So many bright, fun things as far as the eye could see, and she, apparently, INSTANTLY regretted selling her soul by agreeing to JUST SIT HERE IN THIS GOD-FORSAKEN BUGGY, ALL QUIETLY AND PATIENTLY.

And she was so overcome that she couldn’t contain the words that came out of her mouth….

WELL, DAMN, DAMN, DAMN, she said.

Loudly.

Quite loudly.

Because OF COURSE if a toddler is going to use curse words for the first time ever, let’s do it right, know what I’m saying? We want EVERYONE. TO. HEAR. the big, bad, vile language that we are now big enough to use.

And the girls and I gasped and then fell over laughing hysterically, WHICH IS ALWAYS THE WRONG RESPONSE, I might add.

Because laughing hysterically pours fuel on the fire, toddlers LOVE to get a huge reaction in which multiple people are SHOCKED and laughing hysterically, and they’re just gonna do that stuff again.

And so she did, a dozen more times that day, until I finally had to threaten some consequences with my stern eyes because WE DON’T TALK THAT WAY IN THIS FAMILY.

“Well, damn, damn, damn,” she whispered.

It was my fault, really, for laughing. In my defense, my other two children never used such language, so it completely caught me off guard. They were good. This child is a little rougher around the edges… I honestly have no idea where she heard that. We don’t even have TV.

I know what you’re thinking: she must have heard that vile language from me. Well, let me assure you she did NOT. Oh, not because I’m above using some colorful language when necessary, but THAT particular one isn’t one I normally use, because if I’m angry enough to use some words, they’re going to be MUCH worse than that one, because it takes a LOT of frustration for me to go there. And never within the kids’ earshot, because I do have some manners and class, gosh.

Well, let me clarify that I have manners and class until I’m school supply shopping with a 14-year-old, and I’m not gonna lie, that almost turned into a Jerry Springer episode complete with chair-throwing and breaking out the REALLY UGLY words, the ones that are so much uglier than Susie’s relatively tame word of choice.

I barely held it together, and if you KNEW how much love, joy, peace, and patience that took, you’d be impressed. Like, it’s ONLY because I have the Holy Spirit that my 14-year-old is not killed dead and her body dumped in the dumpster behind the school supply store.

She came close to going on Home with her Heavenly Father, is what I’m trying to say.

 

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Katie, who is beautiful and sweet, until you try to make her buy a binder.

And the details aren’t important now, but ONE of us, I won’t say who, was reading the supplies off of the ACTUAL OFFICIAL list, and the other one, it’s not important who now, and I’d never want to embarrass anyone anyway, well, HER head was spinning around, projectile vomiting, eyes rolling around in her head, and she was shrieking and screaming about how she DIDN’T CARE IF THE LIST SAID 1 1/2″ BINDERS, THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE 2 1/2″ BINDERS, AND WHY COULDN’T I JUST TRUST HER AND STOP TREATING HER LIKE A CHILD, BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE’S DOING AND I DO NOT BECAUSE I HAVE NOT BEEN TO HIGH SCHOOL IN ONE HUNDRED YEARS.

And so it went, on down the list, each item I read off of the official list from the school being WRONG, and if I’d just LISTEN to her, we’d get the RIGHT supplies instead of the WRONG ones, because clearly I don’t have enough sense to know that when the list says 1 1/2″, they MEAN 2 1/2″.

The school supply aisle is a dangerous place to be when you’re having homicidal thoughts, and a 14-year-old is provoking you to end her then and there, so because I have Jesus in my heart, I quietly and calmly replaced those ONE AND A HALF FREAKING INCH BINDERS on the shelf, and told her quietly and calmly that we would NOT be buying her school supplies that day, and turned and wheeled my buggy to the front of the store, where I paid for my sweet, cooperative little ten-year-old’s supplies, AND SUSIE’S WELL-EARNED NEMO FOLDER AND WATERCOLORS, yay Susie, and we all loaded up into the car and left.

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Annie, the sweet one who never gets ugly about school supplies.

I was mad, I’m not gonna lie, and in my anger I did not curse.

But with my blood simmering, driving away from the store, I went OVERBOARD bragging on Susie:

“Susie, THANK YOU for being SO sweet, and obeying, and being cooperative, and being a JOY and a BLESSING to your whole family. THANK YOU.

“And thank YOU, Annie, for being SO sweet, and obeying, and being cooperative, and being a JOY and a BLESSING to your whole family. THANK YOU.”

And I just let the silence hang there in the air for a few moments, letting it become CLEAR that I would NOT be thanking the teenager for being a joy NOR a blessing, just, you know, letting that sink in, in silence.

And then Susie pipes up and says, “And thank YOU, Kate, for being RUDE.”

We all fell over laughing hysterically for the second time that day.

All’s well that ends well.

Fast forward half a day, after a certain teenager had texted her friends and found out that, amazingly enough, HER MOM WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE BINDERS, and she offered up a sheepish apology, and me being so full of the Holy Spirit and love, joy, peace, patience and all, forgave her quickly, and we moved on.

But we still haven’t bought her school supplies, and won’t be, until she fulfills certain obligations that she brought upon herself by her rudeness there in the school supply aisle.

And if not, I can always go buy her the school supplies with the puppies and kittens, or maybe a binder with Justin Bieber on the front… 1 1/2″ wide, of course. 

Mom always wins in the end, after all.

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Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in an 80-year-old house completely worth it … what broken pipes, icy hardwood floors and drafty windows? 🤔 I forgot already. #comeonspring #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Happy Saturday ☀️ Happy Saturday ☀️
Salt Lake City is always magical ✨ Salt Lake City is always magical ✨
2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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