Thoughts, Prayers, and Doritos

“I’m a high school teacher, I know all the tricks, so don’t mess with me.” These were the words I used in front of the teen boys towering over me at J.D.’s first sleepover in our newly renovated basement. I don’t know why I thought I was ready for this world but I am not and I certainly don’t know all the tricks. I will say, however, that being a high school teacher has given me unique advantages in both of my worlds. At school, my students know I have kids going through the same exact stuff as they are and I think they appreciate that. At home, my children think I know all the tricks (I don’t really) and they’re a little extra afraid of me these days. I like that. I suppose I could play that card in a nursing home too given my experience with elders. Instead of trades, I’m a Jack of all ages I suppose.

While the boys downstairs wake up to bowls of Walmart brand s’mores cereal with orange juice to balance out the piles of junk food consumed last night (including a $15 bag of Halloween candy), Mom and Dad continue to sleep in the room directly over all of that happening below. Dad is probably a little confused as to what he is hearing, Mom is thankfully deaf in the ear she points up when sleeping. This is an adjustment for them as well—kids in the basement again??

The past week was filled with minor hiccups each day that made the week feel long. As soon as I got home on Friday, my Walmart sweatpants went on and the bra came off. I made mediocre homemade pizza and struggled to stay awake to watch that Netflix show called The Girl in the House Across the Street from Kristen Bell or something like that. I’d love to say the weekend went smoothly but turbulence in such a household is an inevitability. From coming to fisticuffs with FedEx over undelivered wine shipments to a Mascarpone meltdown preventing its transformation into Tiramisu, there could certainly be a big blooper reel from the last 24 hours. My god, we do have our fair share of bloopers.

It would have been easy to have given in to the hiccups of this weekend with a raise of the white flag; to have ripped off the bra and thrown on my Walmart sweats and called it a day like I did on Friday. Yet, what I hope my kids glean from our constant rolling with all the punches is that life always goes on and most things unpleasant can and will pass with patience and hope. Sometimes Mom worries that this environment will “traumatize” these kids but I say it’s just the opposite. These kids have learned that beauty and love grow in the most unexpected places and through some of the toughest circumstances. They’ve also learned that beauty and love are not always “pretty”.

My friends think I am brave and crazy for letting J.D. have a sleepover. Now that I have seen and smelled my basement, they might be right; I will need to burn some sage down there and perhaps squirt a little Febreze. I am very glad I got couches that can be easily wiped. A melange of Old Spice Bearglove, Swagger, and Wolfthorn deodorants are mixing with Cool Ranch Doritos and milk from cereal. I never knew how much teenagers could eat but I do now. Tomorrow is Monday and a new week begins. I’m trying to shove aside Sunday scaries until the morning because that really wrecks one of the two days off I have. “When can I have a sleepover?” Maire asked me this morning. “Don’t push it, Señorita.” I told her and reminded her that this is J.D.’s first sleepover and he is in high school. “Well, can we at least start planning it??” she pleaded. And so the next generation of this household begins. I will need thoughts, prayers, and lots of Doritos.