Rules For Dating My Daughter - Mamma Style

Over the years I have read plenty of jokes of the insane things parents plot and plan when adjusting to the fact that their daughters are starting to date boys. But now as I face the reality that this phase of my parenting life is approaching,  all of a sudden, they don’t seem all that crazy.  I think that any potential suitor will receive a letter from me with a very detailed explanation of my expectations.  Clear communication is essential to any relationship and any dude better realize quickly that being in a relationship with my daughter means I am part of the package. 

Dear pond scum,  (What?  To much?)

I have come to understand that my daughter would like to spend some time with you this weekend, on what has been traditionally termed a “date.”  I consider this event and your presence in my life both inevitable and unfortunate…much like taxes… and plaque. 

My daughter is one of the most precious individuals on earth to me.  You, I am afraid, are my worst nightmare.  I have dreaded your presence in my life since the moment the sonogram technician said “it’s a girl.”  Before your name was ever uttered in my home I was cursing your existence.   You may be a varsity athlete, national merit scholar, and saved an orphanage full of babies from a fire…I am not impressed...what else ya got?  

My daughter accepting your invitation is a good sign, but not a guarantee you are actually going to make it out my front door with her.  In fact, how you exit my home, with whom, and in what condition are completely up in the air once you enter.  There are so many possible scenarios …know that I am rooting for  you to leave my house either voluntary alone or in some type of emergency services vehicle.  On that note, please make sure to carry your health insurance and donor cards with you.  If you would like, I would happy to keep copies of each on file for the future. 

Please plan on appropriate attire.  The very word “underware” has “under” in it – and to this I apply a very simple definition “under your clothing and completely out of sight.”   I have no interest in knowing if you are briefs or boxers type of guy.  If I have any inkling at all, you will have two choices:   retreat voluntary (highly, highly recommend) or we can secure your waistband to the appropriate place using my Martha Stewart sized hot glue gun.  You may have heard jokes about dad’s  duct taping and using staple guns…the glue gun is the my version. 

All piercings should be closed (surgically) and tattoos permanently removed (using a sand blaster if necessary).  My daughter will not be dating a stinky smoke-stack so you will quit smoking.  If any of these things require time,  I have no problem with you postponing your plans with her …indefinitely. 

So, now let’s talk about your arrival: 

You must come to the door and respectfully greet me by shaking my hand – I will be very happy if you are profusely sweating.  This is a good indication of fear and is disgusting making you unattractive to my daughter.

 If your parents have driven you over, they should accompany you to the door as well.  It would be helpful  if you all could provide letters of reference attesting to scholastic achievement, work ethic and honest nature.  Your chances of leaving with my daughter greatly  increase if your parents bring the deed to their home which I will turn back over to them upon my daughter arriving safely home and on-time.  

Once the paper work has been reviewed I will invite you in.  We will make small talk.  Honestly, I have no interest in getting to know you.  The purpose of this time is for you to take close notice of the large shot gun over the fireplace and for me to make you feel uncomfortable.  My goal is to scare you so you go away…forever…

Part of this conversation will be a fierce interrogation of your plans for the evening.  Thank you for providing a typed itinerary in advance. 

At some point, and only when I am comfortable you have a chance of survival, my daughter will appear.   When greeting my daughter you are to address her by the proper name her father and I gave to her at her birth.  “Baby,” “Hot Stuff,” and “S’up” all guarantee you an automatic ejection from the foyer directly into the front yard.  The means by which that would happen would not be pleasant and would not include your feet touching the ground as you cover that distance.

Your job is to boost my daughter’s self-esteem but not in a way that suggest you have taken notice of anything below her shoulders – because you will never ever look there...ever.  Compliment her hair and earrings.  In the next few weeks it is going to take me to run your background check, please practice positioning your eyes so they are always staring above the five foot mark, this includes when you are in a seated position. Your neck muscles may ache...suck it up.  

After several minutes, or hours, depending on how long I want you to suffer, I will suggest “ok, well you two kids go have fun.”  This is not an actual suggestion that you should have fun…you, my new best friend, should not have any intention of having any fun.  After our obligatory handshake good bye (after which I hope to need a hand towel) you should jester for my daughter to exit first and I best see you open the car door for her. 

Lastly, pay no attention to the ninja hanging from the tree in my front yard.  As you close my daughter's door he will shoot a dart of deadly bacteria into your neck (it won’t hurt that much) The antidote will be available in my foyer  for only 30 seconds 15 minutes BEFORE my daughter’s curfew.  This was the idea of my personal trainer, and is pure genius.  

This is only step one of the process.  Once you have demonstrated you understand and will comply with the above, we will move onto "Step 2:  how to act appropriately on a date with my daughter"; followed by "Step 3:  appropriate date follow-up."

In conclusion, in case you are wondering, my daughter is worth any pain and suffering you may go through under my watch.  She is a phenomenal young women  and should be treated as if she is more valuable and rare than a Faberge Egg…because she is. 

Kids with Divorced Parents Are Awesome

Over the years there have been several articles talking about how children from divorced families suffer, sometimes in perpetuity due to the fact their parents are divorced.  This body of research (all, and yes all, with major design flaws) purports that these children will never recover, have long-lasting negative effects on their lives, will not be able to create their own romantic relationships, and some claiming the divorce is like a plauge on the souls of these  poor destitute children who will have no fond memories of childhood (ok, so all that is a little dramatic...but you get my drift).

First and foremost, the researchers can suck it....and here's why....

From the minute that each of my daughters was born they were absolutely amazing.  They were amazing when their dad and I were married, and they are still amazing today.  Nothing about their current or future potential as human being has changed.  And stating otherwise is limiting their world, which to this mama, is completely unacceptable.

The fact that my children come from divorced parents is part of their directory information.  Yet in today's society some choose to make the  "divorced parents"  label part of a child's fiber, on equal footing with ethnicity.  Kids with divorced parents aren't headed for the bread line or a life of confusion...they are headed for the same greatness they were born to achieve...end of story.  

I would actually argue that children of divorced parents could in fact be better off in the long run than if their parents stayed together.  Some no longer see abuse (both physical and psychological).  Some no longer see bitter fighting between their parents.  When parents part, tension in the home can be released.  And then there are the benefits of seeing their parents modeling happy behavior.  Happy to be out of a abusive relationship - happy to be living authentically if they weren't in fact in love, just happy to be moving on.  Notice I'm not saying children of divorced parents are somehow better than children whose parents are married - because I don't compare.  And I wouldn't put that "less than" label on the kids of married parents.  Because those comparisons are meaningless.

I know lots of families that stay together for "the sake of the children."  They trudge through life completely miserable.  Some are able to put on an Academy Award winning performance as perfect - others can't hide it.  When word got out of my divorce one mom told me "I wish I had your strength to leave but I don't want my children to come from a broken home."  So instead children those come from a home where they don't get to witness their parents happy or loving towards one another.  I can only imagine an adult child would feel knowing that their parents stayed together, and miserable, just for them.  And then coming to the realization that their "parental unit" was a sham.

Here's a crazy idea...how about we all just stop trying to label and judge.  Rather than decide which kids are better or worse, how about we conduct research that focuses on solving problems rather than pointing them out...how divorce parents help their kids through the process....how families, regardless of size, shape, or the players can thrive.

So....

If you are a divorced or divorcing parent:
Surround yourself with people who are going to support you and your children through the process and into your divorced life.  If they are going to label your children as "children of divorce" kick them to the curb.  Your children deserve better. When I was getting divorced I was told by a member of my inner circle that my children would suffer "irreparable" damage because of what my divorce would do to them.  That person, and their negative attitude, are no longer part of my inner circle (or any circle) and their negativity doesn't get anywhere near my kids.

If you are a  close friend or relative of a divorced or divorcing parent:
Don't focus on the horrors of divorce that live in your own head.  Focus on your friend or relative and the fabulous children.  Support, love, and nurture them through the process as they establish themselves in the post-divorce lifestyle.

And lastly, if you are a child whose parents have split:
You are amazing...end of story.  If anyone ever tells you that you are less than amazing because of your parent's marital status, send them my way.  You still have every opportunity in front of you that was present when your parents were together.

So glad we've cleared this up.  So now just to be clear, I'm fabulous, you're fabulous, and your children are and will grow up to be whatever fabulous selves the universe sent them into this would to be.  

I'm intimidating? That's your fault

At the ripe old age of 22, I started my career as a fundraiser at Rutgers University.  I looked very very young so  I donned a suit and heals each day and made sure to act as professional as possible.  I had the goal   of doing the absolute best job so that I could and bast through the glass ceiling in record time.  Boy was I in for a shock.   My boss told me I was too mature for my age...too professional.  People would meet me and they were stunned I was so young because I didn't act my age.  I was told my intelligence was intimidating. "You are too direct...you have too much confidence..."  One of my standard replies was "would you say those things to me if I was male?"  That usually shut people up, but also then they told me that was a snobbish comment, I couldn't win.

At that time I wondered, how does the average 22 year old act?  And why the heck should I care?  I'm me...am I suppose to be me?  Should I be someone else?  This started 20 year avalanche of me not being myself.  Oi Vey...  I would sit in graduate classes thinking "am I acting correctly for a graduate student?"  I would sit at playgroups "is this the way a mom acts...should I be doing something else?"

Introspection on many levels over many years has gone into how I present to the rest of the world.  I can't say that I've developed a thick skin, what other people think does bother me a bit, but I have got a firm handle on why people find me intimidating.   I'm well-educated, insanely smart, a great mom, and out-out-this-world-happy.  Many times over in my life I've been told I'm outspoken, opinionated, and over the top. People tend to spin those negatives, simply because  they have yet to develop those same amazing qualities in themselves, or they don't see it in themselves, or they are unhappy.  They are capable of having everything they want, but they are scared...or lazy. And so they look at me and say "she's intimidating."

Here is the crux of the self-discovery - what others think of me actually has nothing to do with me.  When someone looks at me it is through their own filter system. They look at my star qualities, and if they don't have them, they are jealous and therefore they find reason to find fault with me - and ignore their own set of star qualities.    

This thought process was once again tested when someone recently told me,  "You are intimidating as hell to other women."  My first reaction was, why yes, yes I am and I'm going to stop apologizing for it.  And then I got to revisit torturing myself with self doubt as the devil on the other shoulder came out to play and I once again fell back into the world of self-doubt.  "Do I want clarification?  Do I care what others think? Should I tone it down? Do all people think I'm intimidating?"    And right then and there I made the decision for once and for all to stop caring.  Now, I have made this decision many times over, clearly it is a decision that needs to be renewed on a regular basis.

So what if I went to college, have a masters, am working on a PHD in statistics?  I'm a one woman band with the organizational skills to manage three amazing kids, an amazing boyfriend, a career, teaching responsibilities at Rutgers,  and my dissertation. Yes, I have an extensive vocabulary and superior analytic skills.  But I'm not perfect!!   I'm sure you have many amazing qualities that I don't have...I can't spell to save my life,  I only have 5 things I cook well (and one doesn't even require heat), my fashion sense is non-existent, and I can not grow my nails.  And if you happen to have those, well I applaud you...you can proofread my dissertation and I will enjoy the food you cook.  We don't all need to be the same, one up each other, or be "better" than.  How do you even measure "better" anyway?  Why would you waste your time trying?

The moral of the story....I'm just me...and I'm awesome..and in case no one has told you - you are awesome as well.  If someone chooses to view me any other way well, I respect their right to do so.   But it isn't a particularly healthy way to think.  Instead,  going forward, let's just agree to this....I'm fabulously me...and you are fabulously you.  I respect all of your fab qualities and you respect mine.