The Lady Boss

 

This is Tulisa. She is a popular singer and current/soon to be former judge on the British X-Factor. She is also known as the Female Boss.

Now, when I saw this tattoo I was inspired. Not to be a British pop princess mind you, but I felt that the self-imposed title was pretty close to the way I view myself in our little family.

 I am the Lady Boss.

What does it mean to be the Lady Boss? Well, I pretty much run sh*t. I am the go-to decision maker. Scott is obviously co-authority in the house but I am the final say.

We are pretty in sync when it comes to decisions so it isn't like I am usurping his authority. It is just helpful to have someone who is going to have final veto/approval so there is no question, no sass, no going behind one parent's back to get the answer you want from the other. 

You would think this would be a pretty straightforward set up but occasionally I need to remind the MP who runs what.

For example, his grandparents were coming down to pick him up for February vacation.  The plan was to have them pick him up after school.

He asked if they could pick him up early since half the class was going to be gone and his teacher said they would all ‘just be looking each other’ that day.

I said absolutely, since he had a good report card and hasn’t missed any days of school (knock wood) that would be fine.

So we called up my parents to see if they would be alright with picking him up early. They said sure and we agreed on 1:30.

So cut to the morning of said pick up. The MP has his phone out (He never uses his phone; I think he forgets he has one). I pick it up and see he has texted his grandfather: ‘12:30 ok?’

12:30 NOT OK. He didn’t ask me, he was going to go right to his grandparents and try and shave another hour off his day. I REMINDED him that I am not only need to be consulted on such matters but I decide.

Lady Boss.

I texted my parents from his phone stating that it was me texting and if they were able to pick him up at 12:30, could they? Of course they could.

The MP constantly remains surprised that I have a pretty accurate purview into his comings and goings.

 I know when he is going to have a math test or needs to take 100 pennies into school or what kid is moving to another town. I am not entirely sure why he is amazed by this: His teacher sends out weekly email reminders, I am on the PTO and I am friends with other moms in his grade.

But by all means, think I am psychic. Assume that I know stuff you don’t want me to know, even if I don’t.

This is all part of the Lady Boss persona.

 The first time I sprang my new title on him I showed him a picture of Tulisa and put my arm up as she does as her ‘salute’ to her minions.

Whenever he questions my authority or my ability to have my finger on the pulse I just point to my forearm.  

And he will reply: “Right, Lady Boss.” Even Scott will defer to that if there is a question. Possibly with an eye roll but I figure any power position is 75% swagger and 25% knowledge.

Someday very soon the MP will be taller than the Lady Boss but I keep my fingers crossed that the authority I throw around now will keep him in line when idle threats of violence will no longer do the trick.

 

Photo Link:http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01410/SNF22TV2G---5322_1410880a.jpg

I Swear

The MP and I had a rather frank and colorful conversation the other night on our way home from afterschool care. As you may remember, I have a bit of a potty mouth (well, ‘bit’ might be a stretch. A long-shoreman after slamming his thumb with a hammer would have a hard time keeping up with me).  And the MP was looking for some guidance on what he could say and what was off-limits.

MP: So you said something the other day while we were cleaning the turtle tank, and I would like to know if it is a swear or not.

Me: Ok, what was it?

MP: well I can’t say it, if it is a swear.

Me: You can say it, this is a clarification question you aren’t screaming “Sh*t!” for no reason.

MP: While you were taking out the filter you said “Screw it, let’s just do it the easy way.” Can I say screw it?

Me: No, it is a lower level bad word but I prefer you not use it. Why, did you say it?

MP:…..

Me: It’s ok if you did, you didn’t know if it were a swear or not.

MP: Yes I said it once, under my breath.

Me: That’s ok, just don’t do it again. Do we need to review the list of swear words?

MP: Yes please.

From there, things turned into a George Carlin sketch. I ran down the list of 6 words you must never say.  Then he had a few extras we needed to cover.

MP: What about the T word?

Me: What T word? Tw*t?

MP: No, I don’t even know what that means. The T word: T-*-T.

Me: Oh that one. No you can’t say that one.              

I reminded him that derogatory words for ladies are never allowed: Ho, b*tch, skank. He asked about the S word.

Me: Which S word? Sh*t?

MP: No, S-L-U-T

Me: No. That is an unflattering characterization of a woman. You may not use that word.

MP: What does it mean?
ME: It means that a lady is liberal with her loving. Don’t use it

MP: Can I say ho if I am talking about a garden?
Me: Sure.

 

We then talked about the hierarchy of swears. "Hell” and “damn” are first tier. He had his "hell"privileges reinstated after a misuse of the word back in the fall. But  he can’t say it at school and he can’t say it more than five times a day.  Damn he gets when he turns 11.

The “A-word” and “S-word” he gets when he is 15, if his grades are good.

The “F-word” I informed him he could not have until he graduated high school and had been accepted to a good college.

MP: What is a good college? Like UMaine?

Me: Yes, Umaine is a good school; there are a lot of good schools.

MP: What about community college?

Me: No, not a community college. You need to go to a four-year accredited institution.

MP: And then I can say the F-word?
Me: Yes, then the F-word is all yours

Timing is Everything

We spend a lot of time in our house talking about time. Specifically about the space/time continuum.  This is due in large part to our rampant Doctor Who fandom (We are Whovians, the MP and I).

As we were watching a retrospective on the first Doctor (It is the fiftieth anniversary this year and they are featuring one Doctor a month in a special series on BBC America.) our beloved Tenth Doctor (David Tennant) was discussing the notion that the First Doctor had to establish the rules of time travel: essentially that you could not change history when going back in time. You can’t kill Hitler, you can’t stop Pompeii from happening, etc.

The MP articulated what they were saying with the following statement: “You change the sentence, that changes a paragraph and pretty soon the whole story is different.” A light bulb went off in my head: I had bought a copy of Ray Bradbury stories to reread some of my favorites. I ran to my room, found the book and brought it back to him.

I said, “Here – give this story a look. It is called ‘A Sound of Thunder’. It is exactly what we are talking about and it will count as your nightly reading.”

Or as I like to think of it: MP, this is Ray Bradbury. He will become one of your favorite authors in 10 pages or less.

 I love Bradbury, I especially love that 60 years after first being published his stories are still relevant today. And the fact that he was a heavy influence on my favorite author: Stephen King works in his favor as well. I have been waiting to get the MP started reading him so that we could share that journey together. I can’t wait to read “Something Wicked This Way Comes” with him.

I purposely did not big up Bradbury in that moment though. I wanted the MP to make his own mind up about whether or not he dug his writing. And at the ripe old age of 10, there was a possibility that the MP might not be ready for Bradbury.

He took the book and headed back to him room: His grandparents were kind enough to clean up his room and rearrange it for him over Christmas break (seriously, he was ready to film the pilot for “Hoarders Junior” in that cesspool). His room has become his sanctuary to read or work on legos.

I wait patiently for him to return with a verdict and hopefully a discussion about the story.

He returned, eyes bright, grin wide and states: “This is an AMAZING story! This is EXACTLY what we were talking about! He is an amazing author!” and he starts pointing out things that happen in the story, and the ending and holy moly can you believe it!

Then we start talking about Bradbury: What else did he write? What have you read? What should I read next? And and and!! It was more than I had hoped for. And confirmation that he and I are going to have a beautiful literary friendship. We talked a bit about the King/Bradbury connection. I told him about some of my other favorite Bradbury stories. He decided that he isn’t ready for “Something Wicked” based on the description: “The first sentence gives me chills!!”

Instead he decided to pick up the Stephen King book I had suggested for him: “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon”.  What a hit that has been! He takes it back and forth to school and even gave up iPad time at the afterschool program in favor of reading it.

 Every night we talk about what happened and where he thinks the story is going next. He has pointed out things to his father (“it mentions your high school!”) and is just enthralled with the story.

I am convinced that two months earlier the Bradbury wouldn’t have impacted him the way it did in that moment. We aren’t changing history or the course of time but I am really excited that the right moment presented itself and we are on the right road to scifi adventure.