costumes

Star Wars Part 2

Chris Irvine, Parent CoachLeave a comment

Friday was for me one of the biggest movie-going events of my lifetime, second only to seeing Star Wars in 1977 for my tenth birthday. Skipping school to see a movie was special enough (I NEVER missed school), and seeing any movie at a theater was a pretty big deal for a family who typically ran out of money at the end of the month. But this movie was special. I remember sitting in the domed theater watching those opening words move over our heads, my breath surely taken away for the first few moments.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens held a similar excitement for me. It was the first time my family would see a Star Wars movie together in the theater, since Episode 3 came out when my kids were too small. We’re all huge fans. Maddie even has a pink and black Mandalorian costume created for her Comicon visit last year, which of course she planned to wear for the big event. She also planned to wear it to school.

A problem arose the night before, however. In anticipation of the big event, Maddie stayed up late (the night before her last finals) repairing one of her lightsabers (hello again, duct tape!). I didn’t realize what she was doing until she had finished, and at that point I had just been reminded of the new rules of cinema-going: No masks, no face paint, and certainly nothing weapon-like, no matter how cartoonish or unreal. So, her cool helmut was out, as were her lightsabers and blasters. She was so sad–depressed really. I managed to snuggle the sadness away enough for her to get to sleep, though, and the next morning she was up and ready to go in record time. A big day such as Star Wars day gets her blood pumping, thankfully!

As I had promised earlier in the week, we had cancelled the cab in favor of a mom-drive to school. It’s a bit of a hike to go roundtrip during rush hour, but I enjoy the time with Maddie and getting even a glimpse of her school life makes me happy. Just seeing the other kids arriving at school gives me a small sense of what her days might be like. I’m not saying I want to drive her every day, but I make the most of the times when I do.

As we were getting into the car, in a mad rush as always, I noticed her blasters (i.e., storm trooper guns) nestled into her belt. “Maddie,” I said, “you won’t be able to take those to school. Schools have rules prohibiting anything looking like a weapon, even if it looks totally fake,” I explained. I even went into why that rule is now in effect.

“How do you KNOW?” she countered.

“Well, I just know that generally speaking schools no longer allow anything like that. You could get in REALLY BIG TROUBLE. Like you could get expelled.”

“Everybody knows me and knows I wouldn’t shoot anybody,” Maddie insisted.

“Unfortunately they can’t apply rules like that. The same rules apply to everybody.” I even told her about a couple of cases in which kids with toy guns were shot by police. I was really going for it.

“What if I just try?” She was not giving up. She had a whole costume to wear, and dammit, she was going to wear it at SOME point.

“The trying is what can get you into trouble. ‘Trying’ is showing up with the toy guns, and that’s what you can’t do. Plus,” I continued, “if you go to school with those and get into trouble, you will also get in trouble at home.”

“What exactly would happen?” She always likes to weigh her options.

“No computer time (i.e., Minecraft) for a month.”

She continued to ponder the consequences, questioning exactly how I know all this. She still wasn’t convinced anything would happen should she keep those blasters in her belt. Finally I suggested she look on the school’s website for a student handbook that might spell out the rules. She grabbed my phone and perused the website. Nothing jumped out. And then I had the best idea of the day: “Just call the office and ask. Say ‘I’m dressed up in a pink and black Star Wars costume that has pink and black blasters. Is it OK if I wear them?'”

So she dialed the number and explained her predicament to whomever answered the phone. She was transferred to somebody else, and she repeated her problem. “Okay,” she said right away. “Okay.” And then she hung up. Oh, thank goodness. She got the answer, and I could let it go. The blasters and her helmut stayed in the car when she hopped out to go to her last two finals. She was still happy and in the Star Wars spirit. In the end, she didn’t let the lightsaber/blaster/helmut exclusions get her down.

Crisis averted. Well, one crisis averted. When I asked her about the science and history finals she was about to take, she remarked, “There’s one problem. There is a study guide for history I was supposed to finish before Mr. L. will give me the test. I remembered last night, but it was too late.” Oh no. I hadn’t bugged her about studying because (1) that’s up to her teachers, (2) she won’t do it anyway, and (3) she does well without ever studying, so what’s the point? But I hadn’t anticipated this.

My heart sank. What in the world was going to happen now? What if she didn’t even get to take the final? I was trying to breathe deeply. It would all be okay, I tried to convince myself.

“You have to figure out a way to remember this stuff.”

“I know.”

“If you can’t remember things, you have to write them down. That’s the case for everybody!”

“But I never remember to write it down.” That’s definitely a problem. We talked about strategies for stirring her memory.

“Well,” I finally decided, “this is your first experience with finals. So this will be a learning experience, and you’ll know what to do next time.” Maddie nodded in agreement. She didn’t seem particularly stressed out. “I guess you’ll see what happens in a minute!” I said.

“Yup.”

When I picked her up a few hours later,  just after she finished her science final, she was in great spirits. She thought her finals had gone well. Apparently had completed enough of the study guide that Mr. L. had mercy on her and let her take the final. Oh, phew! Thank goodness for compassionate, understanding teachers!

She was happy for vacation to start, and more immediately, to head off to the theater.

“Did anybody else dress up for Star Wars?” I asked.

“Nope!” She could not have cared less. She was rocking her own style and loving every minute of it.

I was talking to a friend the other day about Maddie and how I recognize the ironic gift of having her for a daughter. There are struggles, and they are daily, but there are some things I will never have to worry about. She will not have drug problems, she is unlikely every to drink or be promiscuous because she doesn’t care enough about what other people think to alter her behavior. And she is happy with herself. While other families are dealing with teens so overwhelmed by stress that even attempts at suicide have crept into their lives, I know I don’t have to consider that. I have one of the most easy-going, good-natured 15-year-olds you could ever meet.

Whatever happens with Maddie, she will be okay. She will be content. She will love and accept herself. And she has the confidence to fully express who she is.

We all loved the movie. I might even see it again. I never do that. But the feelings of joy and gratitude I had yesterday were just too good pass up if there’s another chance.

Friday, Star Wars opening day, the last day of Maddie’s first finals, was good day all around. A very good day.

Trip to Party City

Chris Irvine, Parent Coach1 Comment

Today I drove Maddie across the county to her current favorite store, Party City. I hate that store. I hate the Target/Costco shopping center in which it’s located. It’s a madhouse, particularly around the holidays. I don’t like driving up there–ever. I prefer to live my life as locally as possible, within a town or two. I never go to Trader Joe’s because it’s twelve minutes away. Target is 20. So forget it.

But I had promised Maddie I would take her there. It was part of the campaign to get her to join us for Thanksgiving. The following two days I didn’t feel well; plus it was Black Friday and whatever Saturday was, so there was no way I’d go anywhere near that massive retail development. That left today, Sunday. I promised her no matter how bad I was feeling I would take her. So I did.

We agreed we would leave around 1:00 p.m. She had some RPing (role playing) to do online in Minecraft before we went anywhere, and that was fine with me. Just a few minutes after 1:00, she appeared in my room, fully clothed with a hat on.

“Uh, you have to put regular pants on,” I said, referring to her baggy sweats. “And a bra. And you have to brush your hair.” She wasn’t thrilled.

“This is fine,” she insisted.

“Well, I want you to put pants on and a bra. You also smell a little bit.”

“That’s just my deodorant,” she said. “Trust me.”

So just as we all did with our babies’ diapered butts, I shoved my nose into her armpit to check the smell. “No, that’s straight up BO. You need to wash up and change your shirt.”

She informed me it didn’t matter, but for once I had the upper hand. “Well, that’s what you have to do if I’m taking you,” I said.

And, for once, she accepted her fate and turned around to take care of business.

Once she was dressed and ready to go (this time in shorts even though it was about 50 degrees today, what I call “California cold”), we hopped in the car. It was an easy drive, thankfully. And to my surprise, the shopping center parking lot wasn’t especially crowded, considering the day. At first I had planned to do other things while she shopped (Sephora is nearby, and I’d much rather try on lip gloss and eye shadow in that nice store than hang out in Party City), but I walked in with her and decided to stay for a bit. The store was nearly empty, as opposed to the day before Halloween, which was the last time we went, when the line inside went across the front and down an aisle all the way to the back of the store.

“What are you looking for?” I decided to ask. I came to wish I had asked her long before we left because although she had spent some time preparing, her “list” consisted of images of characters of which she wants to create costumes for herself. So each item she wanted still required a bit of consideration. Oh boy.

After about 30 minutes in the store, it occurred to me to ask, “So how many characters are you working on?”

She didn’t have an immediate answer for that question, but after thinking about it she answered, “Seven. Well really more. I have pictures of seven but I know there are a couple more. I just can’t remember what they are.”

Ugh. Not only did she want to shop for parts of costumes for SEVEN different characters, the items she needed were mostly not going to be readily available at Party City. If it had been before Halloween, we might have had a more of a chance to find whatever she wanted, but all the Halloween stuff was all put in boxes and the Christmas and New Year’s stuff was going up. The boxes crowded the back of the store where we were spending almost all of our time.

I tried to help her get through her sort-of list.

“What else do you need?”

“A yellow belt. And yellow boots…Hey maybe I could get this furry skirt and make it into a belt.”

I could see where this was going. One of Maddie’s greatest gifts is her resourcefulness. Another is her determination. But sometimes those combine to result in some ridiculous and unworkable solutions to problems. For example, making that furry skirt into a belt. It was $20, for one thing. And it would be a lot of unnecessary work for probably a pretty unsatisfactory if not absurd outcome. I talked her out of it. I assured her we could find something better. Furry leg warmers also seemed like a good idea for yellow boots. I shot her down gently. Sometimes I have to save her from herself.

This kind of thing went on for awhile. I helped her find a few things. I talked her out of a few. I also mentioned several times that their supply of of costume-related items would be limited right now, but that Amazon would probably have much more because its merchandise isn’t so seasonal. She understood that but really wanted to maximize her Party City experience. I preferred the idea of sitting comfortably at home, with more pleasant lighting, searching the internet. That just sounded so nice.

After an hour or so, I felt the bad florescent lighting doing its dark magic on my migraine-susceptible brain. Plus I was just tired of being in that store, looking at crap. I asked Maddie to please try to wrap it up, but she had a bit more shopping to do. Since she had brought her own money, I excused myself and said I’d be waiting outside.

After another 20 minutes of waiting outside, I had run out of patience. I needed to get out of there. So after looking around the entire store, I finally found her hunched over a box gleefully looking through whatever merchandise was in there.

Shortly before I had gone outside, she has spotted a couple swords in one of the dozens of boxes that were packed up and ready to leave the store in exchange for the seasonal stuff moving in. Apparently her discovery led her down a slippery slope. One box led to another box and another and another. The entire time I’d been outside, she was opening boxes and searching through them for who-knows-what. She sure was enjoying herself!

But I was just done. So I told her to wrap it up. It was time to go.

“No!” she exclaimed happily. “I need to look through more boxes!”

“Maddie, it’s time to go.” No response.

“Maddie.”

“Maddie!”

“Madeline!!!” I finally shouted. “We need to go NOW!” I found myself getting a little loud at this point. I didn’t want to, but she wasn’t hearing me and I was getting increasingly desperate to end this little excursion.

Fortunately Maddie got the message. I grabbed the Cart o’ Crap and pushed it quickly to the checkout counter at the front of the store. Maddie stood there and looked at the clerk. Finally she put one item on the counter, at which point she felt she needed to explain that item to the cashier. And then she just stood there, staring blankly.

A migraine was becoming almost inevitable. I had to get out of there. I grabbed all her stuff and shoved it onto the counter and told Maddie to get out her money. Thankfully the cashier was efficient and soon the transaction was over and we could leave.

I did it! I took Maddie to Party City and I lived to tell the tale! I didn’t even cry once! I didn’t end up with a migraine (close call!) and Maddie was happy with her various wigs, streamers, a yellow cape, and some other random crap (as Maddie would say).

 

I’m pretty sure my Mother of the Year award will arrive soon. I hope it’s made of chocolate. Or jewelry.

P.S. On our way home, traffic came to a stop. I was distressed. I knew it would be a bad day to travel, but I still didn’t expect that. As it turned out, though, holiday traffic wasn’t to blame. The delay was due to a terrible crash. As we passed the scene, I saw the cars that had been involved. One clearly had rolled once or twice. The other was demolished in the front. I had a bad feeling. There was a good chance at least somebody didn’t survive. I just learned I was right. One driver lost control, spun and became airborne. And she died. The other driver isn’t in good shape either.

So now, thinking about what I considered a difficult, stressful couple of hours seems but a trifle. So I had to go to a store I hate and stay longer than I wanted. So what? I have a cool, interesting kid who fully embraces her nerdiness. And she is happy and healthy and safe. All is well.