Duct tape should be a gift given at baby showers for expectant mothers...

Not necessarily for when they are babies, although I have seen many out in public that would've given me a pause on having children. Thankfully, my kids were good babies, or I probably wouldn't have had more than one.

But when they get to be around, say...11 going on 21, duct tape is the first thing that comes to mind in a "New Mother's Toolkit".

We have officially begun the "everything is about me, and driving me around pre-teen years."

Gavin had his first school dance Friday night. I got home from work, and he was "G'd" up, hair moussed and shirt inappropriately unbuttoned halfway down his bony, pale chest. No T-shirt underneath. And his most ripped up, yet clean, skinny jeans. Thankfully, he IS skinny...but men should not wear skinny jeans. Clearly, I think he is making serious fashion faux pas.

We drove him out to the school to drop him off, where he made us park far enough back that no one could see my rockin sport utility wagon, OR me. They had the dance outside, which I have never seen done before...nor have I seen so many scary looking middle schoolers. When I was in school, there was one or two fat kids. At THIS school, there were too many to count.

As a "curvy" adult woman, I know it's a struggle to lose weight. But there is no excuse for most kids to be fat. That falls on the parents to make them get out and exercise and control what they eat. My son Taylor has gone through chunky stages...but I stop buying junk and started buying healthy snacks and limiting portion sizes. It just really makes me mad, because kids have it hard enough as it is...they don't need their weight giving them problems too.

Anyway, I had to ask Gavin about ten times after we picked him up if he was making out with any girls, because Taylor told me he had planned to kiss his girlfriend in the bathroom. (eye roll) This conversation prompted a more detailed Q&A about sex education...to which I was horrified in a "saw your parents doing it" kind of way as they asked me the following questions and made the following statements:

"How do men masturbate?"
"Do women spurt anything out when they come?" (How they knew the term "come", I will never know. But I had NIGHTMARES, people.)
"Is there a mens birth control pill?"
"Men wear condoms...which are rubber things that go over your weiner."
"I know I am too young to think about sex, Mom...my weiner is too small."
"I hear you and Daddy in your bedroom, and I know what you are doing when you close the door."

I am so screwed. Please Lord, let me make it to my 40s before becoming a grandmother.