The Elusive Trophy

I did everything I thought I needed to do in preparation to win "Coolest Step Mom of the Year" trophy. Well, ok...maybe not every little last thing, but I did not have all the ingredients for Puppy Chow, and I did not have the time to go fetch them. Nor was I able to pin down Chuck Norris for a personal appearance at the sleepover. But the rest of the list checked off fairly well.

Mega box of Bagel Bites? Check.

Biggest bag of Dorito's known to man? Check.

Enough soda's to quench an unhealthy army? Check.

Friends coming over for dinner with their cute teenage daughter in tow? Check.

Enough Make-Your-Own-Pizza toppings to satisfy even the deepest stomach? Check.

Turning my head to the sounds of laughter booming and bodies being slammed into the floor above me during the wee hours of the morning? Check.

And to top it off, I wore the coolest outfit in my closet. The only cool outfit in my closet. Just in case the "Stepmother of the Year" award was still on the line, and needed a little something to tip it over the edge. No fuddy duddy parental looking figure here! Nope, it was a long tunic, leggings and my fur-cuffed Bass boots. How cool is that?? (If you are a teenager reading this, please, for the sake of my fragile ego, please do not leave an answer to this question).

Surely, it was in the bag.

Until I opened my mouth.

It always happens that way. Just as I reach out my hand to accept the invisible award, I open my mouth and it all dissipates with the classic 'look' of bewilderment from the 15 year old...a look that says, "Where the heck did that come from???"

And I must answer honestly: I don't know!!! I don't know why i want you and your friends to think I am so cool. Do I have unresolved issues from High School??? Is my Sanguine temperament this desperate for adulation, that I must stoop to this level to get some??

I. am. pathetic.

In any case, through the course of the evening, I made them 'play' a game of conversational questions around the dinner table (every teenage males dream). What could have made it worse, was if they would have discovered that I had dipped into my "Girls Night Out" table topics game box to find the questions. In addition I said random things that elicited 'the look' that anyone who spends any time with a teenager would know. It quickly stripped away any false sense of 'coolness' I had allowed myself to think I had.

Have you been there??

(mom, you don't need to answer that, thank you very much)

***Sigh***

Even though my trophy shelf lies bare after yet another sleepover, I am still grateful for my stepson, and the friends he has chosen and who have chosen him. We have been watching these boys morph into young men. Fine young men at that.

Breakfast is on, boys!!! Come and get it!
(at our new home, the previous owners left this glorious old dinner bell located on the side of the house. I cannot wait for summer sleepovers, when the boys are slumbering in the barn and I can ring it loud and clear! I am quite sure they'll find it as charming and 'down home' as I will. At 7am.)

My favorite part?

Watching my little guy savoring every single last second of being in the presence of all the big guys...and the kindness they show by making him one of them. As when he is handed a Wii controller (that's turned off unbeknownst to him) and given the thrill of his life. I'm playin' in the big leagues, now. I know that is what he is thinking.

Oh the joy of a full house!

Some day I will miss this and so I take it all in while I can.