I’m the only adult in a house full of teenage girls tonight.  How did I get myself into this predicament?  Two months ago hosting a slumber party for my daughter’s high school softball team was not the plan for “Leap Day.”  We were supposed to be going as a family to our condo in Moab, Utah for the weekend.  We planned the weekend two months ago.  Unfortunately, in our planning, Hub and I forgot that it would be the beginning of softball season–and required practices and softball activities for “Huh”.  Sure enough, there is a softball field “clean-up” scheduled for Saturday morning.  My daughter has to attend.  She is also scheduled to work. 

When it became clear that “Huh” wouldn’t be able to go to Moab I figured she could just stay at her father’s place for the weekend.  Then “Hoob” announced that she didn’t want to miss dance class on Saturday and “Mack” said she’d rather stay home as well (heaven forbid she miss some social event).  “Yawlin” was never even aware there was a vote.  I simply decided that our blended family wouldn’t be quite so “blended” for the weekend.  Hub took his three kids (and one friend) to Moab while my four kids and I stayed home.

Of course the girls quickly made plans for tonight.  “Hoob” is at a birthday sleepover down the street; “Mack” had dinner with friends and then went to one of the friend’s houses for a sleepover; and “Huh” informed me that the softball team had decided to have a sleepover together before having to get up and clean the field, and our house had been nominated (if that was okay with me).

My activities of the night have consisted of the following:  I picked up “Mack” and friends after their dinner to take them to the sleepover house and then waited patiently while one of the girls used my crossing guard stop sign to stop traffic in the parking lot of Zupa’s.  I located snacks for the softball girls.  After “Hoob” and her friends showed up at our house from their birthday sleepover (why??!?) I shooed them back to the right house after the mom of the house called looking for them.  I drove again to pick up “Mack” so that she could pick up some things she “absolutely needed” for her sleepover, and then drove her back to the sleepover.  And, during a lull, I shared a quiet dinner of tacquitos with “Yawlin” in the kitchen.

Tomorrow I’m sure I am going to be tired (“Rock Band” is going to have to be turned down once I go to bed), but I don’t mind doing these things for my kids.  This little bit of control that they received this weekend was not an inconvenience for me and it became a deposit into their “emotional bank account.”  If I ever have to make a “withdrawal” in the future I will be able to say, “Haven’t I let you do alot of fun things with your friends?  Well, this time I have to say no.  Thanks for understanding.”   I think they will understand during the times I have to say no.  

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