Saturday Quickies

There are a lot of things running through my head today.  None of them enough for a blog of their own, so I’m going to just throw them out there . . .

 

I’m watching the Ohio State – Iowa game with Hubby.  At least I’m listening to it.  I’m afraid that Ohio State is going to do something stupid and lose.  Right now Ohio State is 21 points ahead.  But there is still enough time for Iowa to come back and beat my Buckeyes.

 

The Kroger here in my home town had gas today for $1.92/gallon.  If you have a Kroger Plus card, you get 10 cents off per gallon.  I got gas today for $1.82/gallon.  It was a good thing.  

 

Luci has been trying my patience all day.  She destroyed a roll of paper towels.  She stole the door stop for the back door three or four times and was chewing on it.  I found her chewing on a piece of concrete that she found in somewhere in the yard.  Still have no idea where she got that.  On our walk tonight she got distracted by some of the Halloween decorations and was extremely jumpy.  At one point she almost tripped me because she got scared of something and tried to hide between my legs.  She made up for it a little while ago when she snuggled up in my lap while I was sitting on the floor watching the Ohio State game.  How could I be mad at her when she was asleep on my lap . . . and snoring to boot!   

 

It’s been raining off and on here most of the day.  Luci hasn’t been able to go out to play very much, so she’s tormenting Blacky.  She wants to play.  He wants to nap.  He decided that he’d had enough of her pestering him and he decided to assert some of his "big brother" authority and snapped at her.  That really hurt her feelings and she came slinking over to me to protect her. I told her it was her own fault for bothering Blacky and she needed to apologize to him.  She must have understood what I said, because she walked over to him and licked him on his nose.  He must have forgiven her because he let her snuggle up next to him for a nap. 

 

 

Uh oh . . . Iowa just scored.  Now they’re just 16 points behind.  I better go cheer for my Buckeyes.  Maybe I’ll be able to have Luci snuggle on my lap again. 

 

This Is Going To Be Fun

 

Halloween and Trick-or-Treat is my favorite time of year - I look forward to it every year.  Yea, I love the cute fall decorations and the candy, but the real fun is seeing the little kids in their costumes.  But this year I have an extra reason for being excited about Halloween.  This year I get to experience Luci’s first Halloween.  Last year, Luci came to live with us the day after Trick-or-Treat in my little town, so this Halloween and Trick-or-Treat is the last of the "first year" experiences for her.  And I have a feeling that Halloween is going to be big fun this year. 

 

Luci is a very curious girl and has to inspect everything – look at, sniff, and even chew on something if it looks particularly interesting to her.  When we go on our walks at night, she notices everything.  Flowers, yard decorations, flags, cars in the driveway.  You name it, she has to inspect it.  Some of the houses on our walking route have started to decorate for Halloween.  There’s some scarecrows in some of the yards and there’s even one house that has a fake coffin with a skeleton in it.  The scarecrows and the Jack-O-Lanterns aren’t too scary for her, she notices there is something new in the yard and she has to investigate the new thing . . . just in case the new thing is either a little person that might play with her or something good for her to eat.  We’ve walked past this coffin with the skeleton a few times and each time it’s an adventure for her and for me.  For me because it’s so funny to see her reaction to it every night.  For her because she has absolutely no idea what this thing is and why it’s there.  The coffin is standing on it’s end and leaning against a house where she always sniffs the flowers in the flower bed.  The first night, she hid behind me and didn’t want to get anywhere near it.  As soon as she saw that I wasn’t afraid, she was brave enough to walk up to it and sniff it.  Each night she gets a little braver and doesn’t hide behind me anymore.  

 

What I’m really wondering about, though, is what is she going to think of Trick-or-Treat night?  How is she going to react to all the little kids in costumes walking up to the house and getting candy?  She’s a big people watcher (just like me!) and loves meeting new friends.  I wonder how she’s going to be able to contain her excitement when all these new people come to her house to visit. 

 

I already know how Blacky is going to react.  He’s seven years old now and Halloween isn’t a big deal to him.  He’ll stick around for the first few visitors and then he’ll go lay in front of the TV and wait for all the excitement to be done.  He knows that if he’s a good boy and doesn’t bark at the little kids, he gets a special doggie treat after Mommy is done giving out candy.  I usually give him a chew bone of some sort to reward him for not sitting at the door and terrifying the children.  Some of the little kids are afraid to come to up the front walk when there is a big black dog sitting at the front door. 

 

I wonder if this is how excited new moms get when their little ones experience Trick or Treat for the first time?

Convalidation Day

 

Yes, I know that I normally do a Thursday Thirteen, but today’s a special day and I’m going to pass on the Thursday Thirteen this week and tell you the story behind why today’s a special day for me. 

 

Four years ago today, at approximately 5:40 p.m., Hubby and I had our marriage blessed by the Catholic Church.  You’re probably trying to figure out if we were married in 1984, wondering why in the world did it take almost 18½ years for the marriage to be blessed by the Catholic church?  Because it took me that long to work up the nerve to get it done. 

 

When Hubby and I were married in April 1984, we were married by a municipal court judge in the county where we live.  I’m a "cradle Catholic" – born and raised a Catholic.  Baptized as an infant, First Communion and Confession in the second grade, Confirmation in my sophomore year of high school, CCD and Mass every week.  Hubby is a divorced non-Catholic.  The Catholic Church doesn’t approve of Catholics marrying divorced non-Catholics.  The parish priest I talked to in 1984 said that we couldn’t get married in the Church.  It never dawned on me to get a second opinion. 

 

Because of that conversation, and because I found out a year later that the parish priest that told us "no" was having an affair with a married female parishioner, I spent the next dozen years as a non-practicing Catholic.  As I got older, I found out that I missed the traditions and the ceremony of Mass.  I learned that not all priests are creepy hypocrites.  Some of them were pretty cool.  What finally made me take the leap and re-join the Church was the realization that if I wasn’t a practicing Catholic, I couldn’t have a Catholic funeral.  For some reason, that made me very sad.  So I decided it was time to find a parish (and a priest) that I liked and re-join the Church.   

 

After I joined the parish, I made an appointment to talk to the parish priest about having my marriage blessed.  Father C was very cool about the whole thing.  Said he didn’t see any problems with it, but he needed to talk to Hubby before he could give me a definite answer.  Oh, yikes, Hubby talking to a priest.  Yea, that’s gonna be fun.  But Hubby was very supportive and didn’t hesitate when I told him that the priest wanted to talk to him.  The meeting went well.  Hubby charmed Father C (our parish priest) and Father C charmed Hubby.   At the end of the meeting, Father C said he didn’t see any problems and that after we filled out some paperwork and waited on the official word from the Archdiocese, we could have a ceremony to have our marriage blessed by the Church.  Oh happy day for me!!  We filled out the paperwork, the Archdiocese gave their blessing,  and we picked Saturday, September 28 for our convalidation (that’s the official name the church calls this particular ceremony) day. 

 

All along, I told Hubby that all I wanted was me and him in front of a priest with our families watching.  No big fancy dress for me, no tux for him, no fuss, no big deal.  More importantly, I promised that I didn’t expect him to celebrate the date as an additional wedding anniversary.  That was the honest truth.  I just wanted a simple ceremony like the one we had in front of the judge in 1984.  That’s exactly what we did.  Father C squeezed our ceremony in after 4:30 Mass and right before a 6:30 wedding.  Yea, the bride for the 6:30 wedding was a little tiffed that she had to wait an extra 30 minutes before she could decorate the church, but she got over it.  The Convalidation Ceremony was about as long as our original wedding ceremony.  Even though I had told Hubby that I didn’t want a big fuss, he thought that it was a special occasion that called for a special gift.  He surprised me with a diamond anniversary band to wear with my original wedding ring. 

 

We don’t celebrate the day with presents or a special dinner out or anything, but I always get a warm feeling on September 28.  I remember how Hubby went out of his way to give me my dream of a little church wedding . . . . even if it took me 18½ years to work up the courage to do it. 

Tuesday Blog Walk – Should Stem Cell Research Be Legal

 

Wow, Ben, you sure know how to jump start a person’s week.  I joined Ben’s blog walk last week because I thought it would be interesting to write on a given topic every week – and to read what other bloggers had to say on the same topic.  Last week’s topic was pretty easy and I breezed through it without any problem.  This week’s topic actually took my breath away when I read it.  I’ve been thinking about this topic for two days now and I’m telling you my brain is getting a real workout.  First I had to figure out what my opinion was on the topic . . . and then I had to figure out how to put my thoughts into a coherent answer.  Yikes.  Hang on people.  This might be a very bumpy ride!

 

My first instinct is to answer "yes" to this.  Think of all the diseases that could be cured!  The lives that could be changed!  We could make such progress in diseases such as Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, Cerebral Palsy, ALS, help those with spinal cord injuries.  We could give the victims of these horrible diseases and afflictions (and their families) hope that things will get better – and maybe erase these horrible things from the face of the Earth so that no one will ever have to suffer from them ever again. 

 

But . . . and you knew there was going to be a "but" to this . . . there are ethical questions that go along with this issue.  How do we get the stem cells for the research?  What about the use of embryonic stem cells?  There’s also the question of "just because we can do something, does that mean that we should do something?"  The treatments and/or cures that are developed are going to be pricey.  What about the people who really need the treatment/cure but can’t afford it?  Does that mean that only the rich can benefit from the research?  Unfortunately, I don’t have an easy answer for any of those questions. 

 

So what’s the answer to a question like this?  Somehow my "yes, but . . . " answer just doesn’t seem adequate. . . . 

Claritin Adventure

 

When did it get so difficult to buy over-the-counter cold medicine?  About six months ago, Ohio passed a law that required stores and pharmacies to place all medicine containing pseudoephedrine as the sole active ingredient behind the counter at the drug store.  The drug can only be sold to consumers 18 and older and you are limited to purchasing no more than nine grams – approximately three 24-tablet packages – within a 30-day period.  Retailers are now required to keep log books tracking the sale of pseudoephedrine products.  The purpose of this law is to prevent people from buying large quantities of these products and using them to manufacture meth amphetamine.  I knew that the law was passed back in April, but I never really thought much about the new law until Saturday afternoon. 

 

I was at Wal-Mart on Saturday and had to buy some Claritin for Hubby.  Hubby and I both have some allergy and sinus problems, so I’ve bought cold medicine in the last six months but this is the first time since the new law went into effect that I’ve bought any kind of cold medicine at Wal-Mart.  In the past, I’ve bought it at Kroger, Walgreens, or CVS.  They have procedures that you need to follow, but not nearly as severe as the ones I ran into at Wal-Mart.  At Wal-Mart, the Claritin is kept behind the counter, so you have to get it from the pharmacist.  Nothing unusual there.  They required that I pay for it there at the pharmacy counter.  Again, nothing unusual there, but they normally only do that if you are purchasing a prescription.  They asked for my driver’s license to verify my age. Okay, that’s a little odd.  Funny that I get carded for buying cold medicine, but not for buying alcohol.  Then they asked me to sign a log book – just like if I were picking up a regular prescription.  Okay, now that’s a lot odd. 

 

I agree that we need to get rid of the meth labs and get this horrible drug off the street, but have we gone just a little too far on this?  I can understand the need to put the stuff behind the counter and have the pharmacist get it for us, but to pass a law that limits the amount of an over-the-counter non-prescription drug that I can buy?  And before the store will sell me the over-the-counter non-prescription drug, it has to check their records to make sure that I haven’t bought more than three packages of the stuff from them in the last 30 days.  Is it me, or does all this sound a little odd to you?  If we’re going to go to this extreme and make consumers jump through all these hoops, why don’t we just make pseudoephedrine a drug that you can only get by prescription only?  Wouldn’t that eliminate the problem? 

 

Like I said, I never thought much about the law before Saturday.  But now it’s on my mind a lot.  Funny how something as simple as buying cold medicine could cause so much fuss.

No Mo’ MoJo?

 

For the past six months, I’ve been listening to this really cool station out of Cincinnati called MoJo 94.9.  I discovered it right after I bought the Dog Mobile back in January.  The radio in the Dog Mobile is more powerful than the one in the Contour and I can pick up stations that I’ve never heard before. 

 

MoJo 94.9 quickly became my new favorite.  What a cool station!  They played soft rock classic oldies from the 70′s and best of all . . . they played DISCO!  You never hear disco on the radio anymore.  This was FANTASTIC.  I love disco music.  (okay, you can stop laughing now!)  When I first heard a disco song on MoJo during my drive home from work, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  All the way home I was dancing and driving and singing at the top of my lungs.  It brought back a whole bunch of wonderful, happy memories of my growing up years.  I was one very happy girl.  I would listen to MoJo 94.9 just about every night during my drive home.  

 

On Tuesday night, I got in the car for the drive home and turned to MoJo 94.9 like always.  I heard the DJ talking about his memories of his time at the station and it sounded like he was leaving for another job.  I listened a little longer and heard them announce that MoJo was going off the air and that Wednesday would be their last day.  WHAT!  The station had been sold and the new owners were changing the format to (gasp!) country.  Ohmygawrsh.  It was a very sad trip home that night. 

 

This is the second time in a year that a station with the light classic rock format has gone off the air and been replaced with a country station.  What the heck is going one?  I did a little research and discovered something that just makes me mad.  Apparently, the new batch of radio execs think that the light classic rock format isn’t "profitable" and that the demographics for that particular format isn’t one of their "target" demographics.  Did he just say that I’m old and not important enough to have a radio station targeted to my taste?  Okay, now I’m insulted.  In case this young hot shot radio exec hasn’t noticed, the Baby Boomers (yes, I’m a Boomer – tail end, but still part of the group!) are the biggest demographic group in America.  We’ve set trends from the minute we started arriving on this planet 60 years ago.  Can someone please explain why we don’t rate a station that suits our tastes? 

 

It’s truly a sad end to the week for me.  For six months, I’ve looked forward to my long drive home (it takes about 30 minutes if I don’t get stuck in traffic) only because I can listen to the music I listened to when I was growing up.  But not anymore.  No more disco.  No more songs from the 70′s.  Just more of the same old stuff.  Most of the stations around here are either Country, Top 40, or some really weird Alternative stuff.  Blech.  There is still WTUE out of Dayton that plays the hard rock classics (think Skynyrd and Ozzy), and I listen to them a lot, but there are days when I just can’t take the heavy stuff.  I want to hear the Bee Gees.  I want to hear The Commodores.  I want to hear Barry Manilow.  So far I haven’t found any other radio station that plays that kind of music.  But I know where I can find the songs of the 70′s and a bunch of other types of music.  It’s called satellite radio.  Until now, I never really understood the appeal of satellite radio and why you would want to pay for something that you can get for free.  You pay for it so that you can get what you want when you want it.  You get a choice and you aren’t dictated to by some hot shot radio exec that thinks your tastes aren’t profitable. 

 

So, unless I can convince Hubby to let me "borrow" his XM receiver from time to time, I’ll be asking Santa for my very own XM radio receiver and start subscribing.

Thursday Thirteen – Fall in Ohio

 

Fall officially starts on Friday night/Saturday morning.  But there are lots of other ways to tell that Fall is just around the corner.  This week’s Thursday Thirteen is about how I know that summer’s just about over . . . .

 

1. Switching from AC to heat in the same day.  Or switching from AC to heat and back to AC in the same week.  Don’t laugh.  It happens.  Every year.  At least once. 
2. Falling leaves.  This is never good news.  We have two large elm trees in our front yard.  Have you ever tried to rake up elm leaves? 
3. Hearing the Canadian Geese honking as they fly overhead.  Luci thinks this is big fun.  She’ll stop what she’s doing to watch them fly.  I’ve never seen a dog do that before. 
4. Halloween displays and Christmas displays within two aisles of each other at Wal-Mart.  I’m serious.  Look for yourself.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.   
5. Network TV Fall season has started!  No more summer re-runs!  Now I have to decide what to watch when. 
6. High School Football round-up report on local Friday night newscast.  Why is it that my high school is always featured last?
7. Pumpkin pie in the bakery section of Kroger.  Yum!!
8. Hubby’s bowling season starts.  And I get total control of the TV remote two nights a week.  (See #5 above!)
9. Having to wear a sweatshirt when I’m taking the dogs out to go potty in the morning.  I’m thankful that the neighbors aren’t up at 5:30 a.m. to see me in my jammies, hiking boots, and hubby’s sweatshirt. 
10. Not knowing whether to dress for the cool weather in the morning when I leave for work or for the warm weather in the afternoon when I come home from work. 
11. Political ads.  These are always fun to watch . . . and this year we get to vote for Governor here in Ohio so I’m sure we’re going to see some really great ads.   (For some reason my sarcasm doesn’t translate well in this blog.) 
12. The nieces and nephew hit me up for school fund raisers.  Yes, I buy the overpriced wrapping paper.  Why?  Because they’re my nieces and nephew.  And they go to the same schools that I did. 
13.  The little hot dog stand that I visit at lunch during the summer closes for the season.  That means no more soft serve ice cream cones for lunch . . . for about 8 months.  But fortunately I have a couple more days until that happens. 

 

 Please excuse me.  I think I need an ice cream cone.  Happy Thursday ya’ll!

Queen For A Day

 

Ben from Ben’s Coffee House Deux has asked that in honor of King Tom we write about what law would I pass if I could be the Queen for a Day.  Yea, I could probably do some deep thinking and come up with something fabulous – no war, no famine, cure all disease – and write about how I would help the world with my law and how it would benefit all mankind for all the ages.  Eeek, that would be like watching the essay part of the Miss America Pageant.  Everybody wanting to do the right thing and help humankind.  But that wouldn’t really be honoring the spirit of King Tom.  Surely he wouldn’t want us to be sitting around all sad and spouting off this deep philosophical stuff.  Would he?  No, he would want us to laugh and joke and have fun with this.  Wasn’t that the whole idea behind us sending the requests to Tom to declare something a law for us?  To take something that we totally believed in and make it a law that everyone would have to obey?  So, here is my law . . . .  

 

If I Were Queen, I would declare that everyone everywhere would have to (drum roll please!) return their shopping cart to the cart corral or haul it back to the store.  No more leaving abandoned carts in the parking spot next to you, or behind the car next to you, or just pushing it away not caring where it ends up.  These unsecure carts go wandering willy nilly through parking lots and crash into unsuspecting cars/shoppers because they are lost and don’t know where to go.  If you can drag the full cart out to your car and unload it, you can drag the empty cart to its proper place and make sure it’s safe and secure with his buddies in the cart corral.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to comfort these poor lost carts and guide them back to where they belong with their buddies.  There’s nothing sadder in the world than a cart following behind a car hoping to find a new home . . .

 

Penalty for not obeying this new law will be . . . . 200 hours of community service gathering carts for your local Wal-Mart, Kroger, Meijer, Target, Lowes or any other equally large department/grocery/home improvement store.  

 

So let it be written, so let it be done . . .

 

(Blogland won’t be the same without you, King Tom.)

What Was I Thinkin’?

 

I helped Hubby with the yard work this weekend by helping to mow the lawn and I’m paying for it now.  I haven’t mowed a lawn in 20 years and I’m really, really out of shape.  It’s two days later and my hands still hurt.  The last time I mowed the lawn, I sheared a pin and broke the lawn mower to the point that it wouldn’t run.  It wasn’t hard or expensive to fix the mower, but ever since that incident in 1987, Hubby has decreed that I am not allowed to touch the lawn mower or any other item he uses for yard work.  Fine with me!  I had enough of cutting the grass when I was a kid living at home and I was more than happy to play the Good Wife and bring beverages to Hubby while he did the yard work. 

 

All that changed Sunday afternoon when Hubby very innocently asked me what I had planned for the afternoon.  I replied that the only thing on my agenda was to start supper a little later.  When he asked me if I would help him mow the yard, you could have knocked me over with a feather.  I asked if he was running a fever or if I needed to call an ambulance because if I remembered right, I’m still banned for life from ever touching the lawn mower.  That’s when Hubby explained that the arthritis in his right had has been acting up lately and he didn’t think he would be able to do the yard by himself.  Wow, how do you say "no" to something like that?  

 

Like I said, I haven’t pushed a lawn mower in, oh, 20 years, but it’s like riding a bike, right?  Once you learn, you never forget.  The only thing I forgot was that I’m 20 years older now (and a few pounds heavier) and it’s hard work to push a lawn mower.  All I can say is thank heaven for self-propelled lawn mowers.  The person who invented such a wonderful thing should be a saint.

 

It’s not a big yard – only 40′ by 150′ – but by the time I got done pushing that mower, I thought I was going to die.  There was sweat running off of me in places that I didn’t even knew produced sweat.  My feet hurt.  My hands hurt.  My arms are sore.  My legs felt like cooked spaghetti.  Hubby does this every week from early spring until late fall – and he’s 9½ years older than me with a bad back!  I’m not worthy!    

 

The really amazing (stupid) part is that I told Hubby that I would be willing to do it again this weekend if he still needed my help. 

 

What was I thinkin’?

Something for Mercy

 

I was reading Mercy’s blog last week about her problems with her son and his "almost 18-itis" and I felt that I had to share my story about my dealings with this dreaded disease.  In case you haven’t heard about it, it’s very common in youngsters.  There’s a period of time between a teenager’s 17^th birthday and their 18^th birthday when they realize that in a few months they will be an "adult" and they don’t have to listen to anybody tell them what to do.  They think that they have the world all figured out and that they are way smarter than the silly adults that have been providing a roof over their head, food for their bellies, clothes for their backs, and love, guidance, and support for their entire lives.  There’s no way to tell which child will get this horrible disease and I understand that it’s more common with teenage boys than teenage girls.  Unfortunately, there’s no vaccine and there’s no cure.  Once your kid gets it, you hold on for dear life and wait it out. 

 

My step-son, Jr., came to live with Hubby and me shortly before his 16^th birthday.  He had been living with his mother since The Ex and Hubby got divorced with Jr. was 10 years old.  The Ex subscribed to the "I want to be your friend" parenting philosophy and there wasn’t really much daily discipline in Jr.’s life during his early teenage years.  Anytime there was a problem, The Ex played the "wait til you Father hears about this" card and let Hubby be the Bad Parent.  It finally got to the point that The Ex couldn’t control Jr. anymore and she decided it was best for Jr. to come live with Hubby and me.  

 

Now, Jr. is basically a good kid.  Smart kid, got good grades, has a bit of a smart mouth on him and a mischievous streak a mile wide, but Hubby and I thought he just needed some rules and boundaries.  Boy did we learn the hard way that you can’t expect a teenager to accept rules and boundaries when there haven’t been any for most of his life.  For the first year that he lived with us, things were pretty normal.  He behaved himself, he got good grades, helped out around the house, no drugs or alcohol that we knew about.  When he turned 16, he wanted a car.  We agreed to give him a car but he had to keep up his grades, pay for his own gas, and pay for his own insurance.   We agreed that he could keep the car as long as all of those requirements were met. 

 

For a while, things went smoothly but everything changed the summer before the start of his senior year in high school.  He realized that he was going to be 18 in a few months (his birthday is in October) and he didn’t really have to listen to what we had to say or follow our rules.  He was going to be an adult and he could make his own decisions.  He quit his job shortly before he was fired for not showing up for work.  He didn’t see the need for car insurance so he stopped paying for it.  What he didn’t count on was Hubby and I following through on our threat to take away the car if he didn’t follow the rules.  In our state, even though the car was in Jr.’s name, he was still a minor and Hubby and I were still legally liable for any damage done if Jr. got into a wreck.  Since Hubby and I didn’t want to play Russian roulette with a 17 year old male driver, we took the car keys from Jr. and sold the car.  Needless to say, Jr. was furious.  Little did we know what the next round was going to be. 

 

Even though he was a good student and got good grades, Jr. thought he knew more than the teachers at his high school and that his senior year was a waste of time so he stopped going.  We didn’t find out about this monumental decision until the school called us to let us know that Jr. had been suspended three times in three months for skipping school and was facing expulsion.  That was also about the time that we learned that Jr.’s girlfriend was pregnant and our first grandchild would be arriving in early winter.  Since Jr. had just turned 18, Hubby decided it was time for the "my way or highway" speech with Jr. and Jr. picked the highway.  He left that night.  Hubby and I were heartbroken.  We had tried everything to get through to Jr. and nothing worked.  Now we were sure we’d lost him forever. 

 

We didn’t hear a lot from Jr. over the next few months, but he made a special effort to patch things up with us before the grandbaby arrived.  I think it’s because he suddenly (finally?) realized that the parents weren’t so dumb after all and that we might actually know what we’re talking about. 

 

I’m not saying that things miraculously got better, because they didn’t.  It’s been a rough road for all of us, but we have a good relationship now.  Jr. is going to be 34 in October and he’s turned out okay.  Not exactly the path Hubby or I would have chosen for him, but it’s a path that’s made him happy.  

 

So my advice to Mercy and to all parents with a teenager with 18-itis is this – love ‘em and hang on tight.  It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.  But you aren’t alone . . . . those of us that have lived through it are here to help.