Crash. Bang. Screech. Welcome to Planet Teen. Don’t bother griping about the rough landing. We’ve heard it all before. No one ever sees it coming.

“Just yesterday I had a rosy-cheeked cherub and today I have this…THING full of sulk, smell, and oh so important opinions.”

Ellen- Blah, blah, blah. We hear you, but it is time to focus or you are going to get bamboozled and blindsided by the natives.

Erin- We’ve been here about 25 minutes longer than you have, but in the constant turnover that is Planet Teen, that qualifies us to dispense some knowledge. We’re here to provide newbies with some guidance, veterans with some commiseration, and decorated war heroes of multiple tours with glasses of wine.

Ellen- Don’t be stingy. Wine for all! It’ll make us funnier and the teens more bearable.  But keep in mind, we are all you have at the moment. The more veteran guides are busy having a collective nervous-breakdown—something to do with driver’s licenses, SATs, and prom dress cleavage.

But never mind that, first steps first. Before I open the door, you might want to take shallow breaths or at least pull your turtleneck up over your nose. Erin will demonstrate.

Erin- The first thing you’ll notice is that even the atmosphere is different: you can feel it in the air and probably smell it, too. Planet Teen pulses with electric, frantic energy and smells an awful lot like the inside of an Abercrombie and Finch store. Except when the wind changes. Then it just smells like B.O.

Ellen- Sad, but true. If only it had the lighting of an A&F store, then the terrain wouldn’t drive you insane.

Erin – Wait, before we get to the terrain, we must warn you about the earthquakes that will knock you on your bum faster than you can say, “What do you mean you want me to drop you off around the corner and wait in the car?” The ground is a-shakin’ and a-shiftin,’ people, and no expert in the world can predict when the quakes will hit.

Ellen- A “D” on a test? Wuteva. Missing headband? Total building-dropping, house-leveling, bridge-buckling quake. Some people may say that Planet Teen is hostile. I find it more of a shifting, puzzling, exasperating landscape.

Erin- Ah, yes, the landscape. It is messy, and oh so energy-draining. I’m not talking, “Hey there’s a shirt on the floor” messy. I’m not even talking a pile of Legos or naked Barbies. I’m talking that it’s a stinky, nasty, smelly armpit of a place littered with dirty socks, muddy cleats, damp towels, skeletons of projects past, and snack wrappers.

At least this mess is sanitary. Sort of. Well, they don't smell. There's that.

Ellen- Just trash really. Trash everywhere. Even for the roll-with-the-punches Mommas, Planet Teen will break you.

Erin- It was the towels that blindsided me.

Ellen- It’s a cold, damp place for adults because the natives of Planet Teen line their lairs, formerly known as their rooms, with damp towels. Maybe the humidity is good for their skin.

Erin- It can’t be the Aspergillus nidulans (that’s your basic run-of-the-mill mold for you newbies—you get up close and personal with this stuff on Planet Teen).  If you are rolling your eyes, thinking, “Why are these chicks hung up on towels?”  What’s so sensible about that? Well, for one thing, it is because they never get hung up.

Ellen- Never!

Girls can dream, right?

Erin- And my son can empty an entire linen closet in seven days. If you think for a moment this is not impressive, bear in mind that we have enough towels for SEVEN people.

Ellen- Pfft. Daughters are so much MORE in this arena. Coco (13) uses a hair and a body towel with each shower, and I have the water bill to prove that she showers more than your entire family of seven. She has even been known to take MY previously used body towel, hanging on MY hook. So I double your son, Ace (14), and raise you a disgustingness factor.

Erin- I think we’ve talked about motherhood not being a pissing contest, but, sure, you can take that prize.

Ellen- I knew it!

Erin- But even if you adjust to the messy terrain, terrible smell, and your cold butt having to dash down the hall to scrounge for a towel, you are still at a disadvantage. This planet is under Survivor-esque tribal rule.

Ellen- Only you can’t vote anyone off. You’re stuck in this mess together until college. And even then I think you are supposed to let them back in during holidays.

Erin- Oh, the challenges they toss your way. They sling them faster than Jeff Probst on Red Bull, but their hands-down favorite is the teenage version of Chicken. Every day, sometimes FIVE times a day, they are throwing down the gauntlet to see which of you will back down first. It cannot be you. You thought the Terrible Twos were hard when you could still wrassle them into the car. This is the same thing—only now you are looking UP at them.

Ellen- And then there is the language barrier. Teenagers compose fiction they dispense as fact as effortlessly as breathing. You would think only major Planet events would warrant this level of creativity, but it starts slinging without rhyme or reason. It’s just crap I have to slog through every day to get to the real stories, no matter how boring. It just makes me tired.

Erin- And the really wonderful whipped cream and cherry on top is their indignation when you suggest that their story might be two degrees south of complete BS.

Ellen- And then there’s the Planet Teen code.

Erin- That’s right. On top of shifting landscapes, cold derrieres, and the language barrier, you need to learn their secret codes and cryptic handshakes if you want even a remote handle on what they are thinking. This means you need to learn every last text acronym, read every last Tweet, and check out every last Facebook update. I kid you not: the tribe is a-rumbling even when the natives look all tucked in and cherubic.

Ellen- TBH, the tribe will ambush you if you are not alert. JTLYK, you can readily get translations on Google. So CYA and get on over there, FTW.

Erin- Oh, and hide your valuables, or at least your eyeliner and straightening iron.

Ellen- The natives, or at least my daughter, are like magpies. Oooh! Shiny pretty thing over here! Aaahh! Sparkly, fun thing over there. These things get whisked away, never to be seen again. It is a little infuriating. Makes you feel like dementia is setting in early.

Erin- But maybe we are making you nervous. So far we’ve only discussed the perils and maybe frightened you with our obsession with towels (it’s serious, people). We did say we were going to give some navigation guidance.

Ellen- Communication is the key. I know it sounds basic, but it’s true. If you can keep the lines of communication open, the natives won’t take over.

Erin- It does not hurt to have strategies and to use what is available to you. In this case, I’m talking about your car. If you have a teen, you live in your car. If you don’t, I want to move where you live, so send me your address. 

For the rest of us, accept your lot in life as taxi driver and use this to your advantage.  There is real power in talking in the car. Teens don’t like direct eye contact, so side-by-side looking out the window is ideal.

Ellen- Yeah, they are kind of like tigers—don’t look them directly in the eye. Or is that werewolves? Anyway, be ready for them to spill the moment their tushies hit the seat. There is only a fifteen minutes difference between getting the story and “Nothing happened today.”

Don’t talk on the phone and turn down the radio (that way they won’t be obsessed with changing the station immediately). Your job is to hold your tongue.

In fact, I joke that I want my tombstone to read, “She gets props for all the things she didn’t say.” Come to think of it, I am not joking. Dead serious. This is THE key to happiness with your kid on Planet Teen. Hold it until you HAVE to say something. Otherwise, everything comes out like a Charlie Brown teacher.

Charlie Brown Teacher Speaking

Erin- So here’s The Sisterhood Secret: Cultivate a passive, non-judgmental face. One great piece of advice Ellen gave to me that works like a charm is the non-committal “huh” or ”um” as they relay the story.

Ellen- I also use it with crazy people, but a hormonally driven teen is about as crazy as you can get really.

Erin- Use that non-judgmental demeanor and your handy ambiguous grunts to mask your utter dismay when you hear things mentioned like your teen’s friend is running off with the circus. Or that he is considering not going to college because he has plans to turn your basement into a video game console repair business. 

Ellen- Don’ t react immediately or you’ll shut them down. Remember you need as much information as possible so that you can sift through the BS to the nugget of truth.

Erin- And buck up, Visitor. Remember that for all the crazy, rocky, smelly, damp, and silly things rocking Planet Teen, you and your child are not adversaries, but fellow travelers trying to make it to the next stage with your sanity intact.

Ellen- This is temporary visa status, not permanent residence.  Did you notice that this excursion has just begun? We’ve barely moved away from the transport door. But, look behind you, the next wave of newbies is already moving in behind you.

Erin- A temporary visa is more than enough on Planet Teen, so bring the wine, the Starbucks, a plucky attitude, and a sense of humor. We’re all going to figure this out together, but we are going to need the fortification. And we’re off. . .

One Glass

Two Glasses

Three Glasses

Partying it up in the most non-Mardi Gras place on the planet.

Festive = Decorated china cabinet in a log cabin with waitresses dressed in calico. We live in a special place. Bring on the beads. And the Pancakes!

Is it a bird, a plane? No, it’s Yeah Write Me #45! We’ve linked up, so grab your cape and click on over for some good reading.

Ellen- We are Moms, and we have mad Superhero skills: able to wipe noses, check Geometry, and bandage knees in a single bound. We got the capes, we just don’t wear them all the time. They get buried under the day-to-day-ness of our lives.

Okay, so maybe she does look like she could kick some booty. We just like ours covered.

Erin- But you know what? Even Superman needed to change into a cape and boots and style that little spit-curl on his forehead to signal that he meant business. We decided against comparing ourselves to Wonder Woman here. Who really conquers the world in a bustier with her bum hanging out? Except for Lady Gaga, of course.

Ellen- So not too long ago, Erin found herself smack dab in the middle of a day where her SuperMomma powers were needed and she was most definitely not sporting her cape. In fact, she was not even sporting a shower.

Erin- I was coming into Book Club late because I had been good and gone to Cardio Kettlebell. If I had stopped to take a shower, I would not have been able to grace you all with my presence. But truthfully, what I needed was the Sisterhood’s advice.

I began spilling my story the minute I walked through the door. I was having a problem at Charlie’s (11) school.  Charlie got my family’s dyslexia gene, and the plan we had in place for him had gone off the rails. He was deeply unhappy and flailing. I was springing into action mode.

Ellen- The Sisterhood responded immediately with full-on support and advice. The Sisterhood is for real, people—not a gimmick.

Erin- They had great advice (they really are a wise, wonderful bunch). When they finished, I was on my way.  I know my school and they know me. I practically have a reserved parking spot out front. I had one foot out the door. 

Sisterhood- “Where are you going?”

Erin- “I’m heading over to school.”

Sisterhood- “NOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Ellen- Remember that Erin had said she had come straight from Cardio Kettlebell?

An unkind Sister might have pointed out that she was one degree south of disgusting. A really unkind Sister might have taken issue with the sweaty ponytail, sweaty workout gear, and grimy sneakers. To put it kindly, she was far from ready to throw on that cape and boots.

Erin-   I was Super-Mom-On-A-Mission. I was used to talking to Charlie’s teachers about his needs. This was going to be the first time I spoke with them about how they weren’t meeting them.   

Ellen- The Sisterhood barricaded the front door and reminded us all that sometimes our superpowers have to be advertised by our appearances and actions.

 The Dos and Don’ts of SuperMommas

DO Make An Appointment. If you need one for your hair or your teeth, you should probably consider making one for discussing important information about your kids. You are stepping out of your usual role. You mean business, and business requires appointments.

DON’T Do a Drive-By, Drop-In, or Aside.  This is going to take more than five minutes. Make sure they have time for you.

DO Wear Clothes From Your Former Fancier Life. That pretty shirt, the gorgeous cashmere sweater, even the tailored jacket lingering in the closet can get dusted off for this occasion. They don’t just remind you of the life you used to lead, before you spent your days packing lunches and changing diapers, they signal to everyone else that you STILL have a life and you are darn good at managing it. If you do choose jeans because that is who you are and you are going to keep it real, they better be the ones you would wear to the $45-per-entrée restaurant. But even $98 lululemon yoga pants aren’t right for this occassion.

All these boots say is, "I have a large stack of dollar bills."

DON’T Wear Shoes Out of Your Teenager’s Closet. You know what we mean. Uggs, flip-flops, and running shoes are comfy and they have their place, obviously, but not when you are trying to make a point.  But never Crocs. Not to be shallow, but your shoes talk.  Nothing says power like a heel. And boots are made for talking. As long as they aren’t red vinyl.

Stylish: yes. School appropriate for the rest of us: no.

DO Cover Up. For the love of Britney Spears, no crack, cleavage, or midriff should be getting prime time.

Also, do not put on anything ripped or distressed or cut-off. We know they are trendy, but unless you live in Beverly Hills, it is likely your principal will think you are a hobo or just finished cleaning out the minivan. And just to emphasize: NO SKIN.

DON’T Ignore Your Hair.  Consider pulling out the blowdryer for this occasion. Stick the babies in front of Sesame Street for twenty minutes, find some uncongealed product, and get smoothing. Nothing says I’ve got my SuperMomma groove on like some shiny locks. Let’s face it, ponytail on the top of your head says I’m ready for spin class or to turn the compost pile. It does not say, “Hey, take me seriously.”

And for the love of Gwen Stefani, no pigtails. We know she can rock them, but if you’re over 30, do you really wanna go there anyway?

Hello, Stranger. From the looks of you, it's been awhile.

DO Come Prepared. Bring your papers. You are not crossing the border, but you are entering new territory—respect the boundaries. If you are referencing policy, testing, grades, or plans, bring them with you.

DON’T Pull These Papers Out of an Overstuffed Purse. Receipts, snacks, sippy cups, and McDonald’s spilling everywhere doesn’t really convey that you have your act together.

No judgement. You could pull this stuff out of Ellen's purse right now.

DO Wear Some Make-Up. Rolling out of bed is fine for carpool line, but the harsh light of the principal’s office might make you look haggard, tired, and out of it. Mascara and lip gloss say, “I mean business.” I took the time, so you should give me yours.

DON’T Take It This Far:

Do Stay Focused. Stick to the problem at hand. Superman has laser beam focus and so should you. Present your problem concisely and calmly. Use notes if you need to and even feel free to print out copies for the teacher or principal. Then you can all be on the same page. Literally.

DON’T Go Off on Tangents. Don’t bring up anything about your other kids, past grievances, or ask if the construction paper has been ordered for the Penguin Craft Party . 

With this kind of focus, you could also put in that new skylight.

DO Bring Your Best, Most Polite Self. Use proper titles even if you use first names often.  Why not acknowledge something that has been done well? It does no harm to put someone at ease so that they are receptive to what you have to say. You get nothing by making the teacher look bad, so no name calling—not ever!! Sticks and stones may break your bones, but nastiness will sink your cause.  If the words“You need to…” come out of your mouth, you have NOT muzzled your inner Momma Bear.

DON’T Bring Younger Kids or Pets. Young kids make it hard to focus. Have you noticed? And a Chihuahua in a purse (or sticking out of the neck of your jacket)? Well. . . Sorry, we had to clarify, but there is precedence. Did we mention we don’t even live in L.A.?

I swear I'll be good.

We realize not everyone needs these rules. If your name ends in “eyonce” or “adonna,” you can do whatever you want or instruct your staff to carry out your wishes. But for the rest of us, we may be SuperMommas, but we live in the real world.

Erin- As usual, The Sisterhood was the calm, cool voice of reason in a dark, sometimes cruel, world. I cleaned up, dusted off, blew out, and suited up. I walked into school with my cape on and came out with a happier kid and a mellower me. Now, I can go back to hiding in plain sight again.

Ellen- We should probably add one more DO: Always, Always, Always listen to your Sisters.

Erin- And never be afraid to show your cape.

You know the saying, “You never know someone until you have walked a mile in their shoes.” Well, it was never truer than when said about a mom. Here is a little snapshot of Ellen’s Friday told through her footwear.

We are linking up to Yeah Write #44! Click on the links to read some great blogs!

Erin- We all have our Mom Code—the one we live by and love by that makes our families work as smoothly as we can manage. We all have different names for the guiding principles that rule our parenting. You may call them The Law According to Mom.  We happen to call them Sisterhood Secrets.

Ellen –One of the most important Sisterhood Secrets I live by: Don’t poop in your own den.

You heard us.

Erin – This may need some translation if you don’t have an Ellen in your life, but let me just say right now, you should find one. Now. 

Ellen- Erin’s being very sweet, but ask our friend Mary how well they fared making tie-dyed t-shirts without me.

Erin- I shudder at the memory. Anyway, Ellen is the chick who gets things done. She is a no-fuss, no muss kind of momma, so if she tells you that she lives by this maxim, you might want to sit up and listen.  The idea of not messing up your den is a lot harder than it sounds. We all get upset, excited, tipped over our breaking points, ESPECIALLY when our babies are involved. We want the sweet release of watching someone squirm and having our voices heard. But I am telling you now, resist this urge. The squeaky wheel may get the grease at first, but pretty soon she’s just darned annoying and causing drama in the parking lot.   

Ellen- In other words, don’t make a princess-worthy stink in a place where you are going to have to play for a long time, like your kids’ schools. You can truly accomplish more by acting like the respectful person you want your kids to emulate. But forget that, I was pacing and growling around my den like a Momma Bear who had eaten gas station sushi and needed to squat.

With forethought and planning, I was seriously considering bringing it down hard on my poor elementary school. I was hot. I was considering thumbing my nose at one of my guiding principles because, darn it, I felt justified.

Now you are going to have stick with me on this one. I am not overly precious about my kids. But my Jellybean (11) came home with a D on an art project. We were not informed of this grade until AFTER the report cards came home, because it was put in late. AND it was part of a DOUBLE grade on the same project, because while the teacher was required by county policy to have 4 projects to grade, she only had 3, therefore double grade.

This same teacher had twice sent Jellybean’s work to the county art show. Where was the love now?

Erin- Have you ever heard of a double dipping grade? I mean, really, even my collar was getting warm.

Ellen- This D prevented Jellybean from getting an A in art by 0.7%. This B prevented her from having Straight A’s. This would have been Jellybean’s second marking period getting straight A’s this year. BUT get this Sisters, they FORGOT to recognize her in the newsletter for it last marking period. Hence, why I was PRIMED to make a stinky.

Erin-  And this was not Ellen’s first dance with this teacher. Years back Ellen had to encourage a rubric for objective grading. Before that, grading had been sketchy. Pun intended. 

Ellen is not all the way up her tree yet, but she is clinging to the bottom branches. 

Ellen – She is either being kind or having amnesia, because I remember being precariously at the top of this tree and throwing F bombs at anything moving. I was calling Erin as a touchstone, because I was queasy that I was going to violate my own rules. My cub had been wronged!

Erin – I know Ellen, and she has never been THAT mom—the crazy one who insists that her kids get all As. She wants her girls to excel to the best of their abilities and they do —two lovely chips off the old, but still looking fabulous, block. Jellybean happens to be a conscientious and excellent student. To say that this grade hit her hard was an understatement.

Ellen – AND Jellybean reported that they had been promised another class period to finish the project, but that the teacher had taken that extra time away as punishment.

Erin- It was the principle of the thing. Jellybean was getting the short end of the stick.

Ellen was in her tree because she was caught not between a rock and a hard place, but between two maxims that guide her parenting— between the one to keep that den nice and clean and the one that she is going to stick up for her kids. As a Sister, my job was to talk her down from the top of the tree, but she was ready for action. And I could see why. I was on her side completely.

Ellen– So I have picked my battle and I was going to kick some booty and take some names. SO what did I do?

I…I…

I let the catharsis of my venting rant to Erin wash over me. I took a breath, slept on it, and wrote an extremely polite email to the art teacher expressing my puzzlement over the grade.

Erin- Surprised?  Feeling cheated of the specter of the Momma Bear attack?

You'll thank us. In fact, you're welcome in advance.

Ellen – And guess what? Since I had never pooped in the den, the teacher listened to me and expressed her surprise and regret that this had gotten past her. She teaches between two schools, and the grade had gotten lost in the shuffle. Jellybean’s class had gotten robbed of class time due to some field trips; so the teacher could not get more projects done. She acknowledged that Jellybean was a dedicated and good art student, so if she said that she thought she was going to have more time, the teacher was going to give it to her. Jellybean finished the project and was re-graded.

Erin- See?? I told you all that you needed a little Ellen in your life. How ‘bout that for results? Because she muzzled her inner Momma Bear, Jellybean and Ellen were happy, the art teacher was not eviscerated, and Ellen’s den was squeaky clean. Score one for The Sisterhood.

I took this picture on the property of the Ashland Nature Conservancy in Delaware. I was camping there with our cub scout pack, and we hiked to this site where they were building a replica of an Algonquin Longhouse. The boys loved it. Highly recommend.—Erin