Nerd-speak

Back in the day, Jill used to complain when the boys in her homeschool co-op "spoke Nerd" during their lunch break.  Being the only girl there much of the time, it got rather tiresome for her.  After all, girlfriend was the only girl in the family, and essentially the only girl in the neighborhood.  She had more than her share of Nerd-speak at home.  She just wasn't having it at school.

I'm used to it and, after working as a nursery nurse for some years, I learned to tune stuff out a long time ago.  I listen to the boys in the car only to a point, but when it starts getting too thick, I tune it out and let them at it.  Jim cracks up at how they go at it, truthfully stating that the could go on for hours -- and they've done it many a time.

So here was yesterday's tete-a-tete on Facebook.

Thomas to Seth:  tell your father im here and tell him the lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts.  Tell me you didn't get hella chills from that.
My friend Sally:  What's a lannister?
Seth:  So gud.  Also got chills at "if you're looking for justic, you came to the wrong place." since I know what it's in ressponse to.  Also, EVERY SCENE WITH OBERYN especially the one where he's fighting mr big man.
Thomas: i'm unfathomable levels of excited for "if you die before you say her name, ser, I will hunt you through all seven hells."
Seth:  And also the opening bit with "some dead man." Also that bit with the dude  that killed Jeor, leaving the baby in the woods (sacrificing it to an Other) is pretty....interesting.
Jill:  Nerdz.
Jim:  WTH game or movie is this from?
Chris:  It was so GOOD.
Me: Game of Thrones is my guess.
Seth: This.
Chris:  Game of Awesome Thrones.
Me: I knew it.  Only Game of Thrones can bring out this level of nerd.

I have NO idea what any of this means.  I do know that Seth is practically giddy over the return of the show, and apparently Thomas and Chris are too, to the point that punctuation and spelling obviously become optional where Game of Thrones is involved.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

• • 
    

Is It Any Wonder I'm Confused?

The Heir to the Throne been home for three weeks now. It's interesting to watch the dynamic between Jim and Seth.  They can talk video games half the day, and Dr Who the other half.  But try to have a seemingly normal conversation, and that's where it gets tricky.  

 Jim likes video games. He assured me after his knee surgery that all he needed was a remote and his Xbox controller, and he'd be just fine.  He was right.  However, does not play Candy Crush, which is the game of the moment for people like me who don't play console games.  If you don't know what Candy Crush is, do not google it.  You won't be able to stop.  Jim doesn't play it, mainly because it doesn't involve knives, guns, flash bangs, or as a matter of fact, any type of weapon.  Marines do not play games that don't involve weapons.  Seth, however, does.  He's a recent recruit.  I'm on Level 300+ after a few months.  Seth is at least halfway there after a couple of weeks.  Good thing I'm not competitive.  Oh well.    So here is this morning's breakfast conversation.

Seth (walking into kitchen and sitting down):  "Hey Mom, send me a ticket."  (When you hit certain parts of the game, you have to get three tickets to advance, so Seth's MO is to randomly come up and ask me for a ticket.  It's like a little game between the two of us.)

Jim: "What do you need a ticket for?"

Seth: "I just do. Mom, send me a ticket."

Jim: "But what do you need it for?"

Seth: "I just NEED it.  Mom.  Ticket."

Jim: "But where the hell are you going?  You can't go anywhere.  You have to go back to school tomorrow.  You haven't even started your car for a week.  You don't even know if it WILL start.  You don't need a ticket."

Seth: "I need a ticket.  Mom.  Ticket."

Jim: "Where the hell are you going?"

Seth: "Paradise."

Jim: "What, are you Muslim now?"

Me: "He needs two tickets to Paradise."

Jim: "What. The. Hell."

Seth: "It's a song, Jim."

Jim: "What do I care about a song?  What do you need a ticket for?"

Seth:  "It's for a game."

Jim:  "Oh NO.  Is it for that Candy Crunch game?"

Seth: "Candy Crush, James.  Candy CRUSH."

Jim: "Whatever. What do you need a ticket for?"

All this, before 10am.  Is it any wonder I'm confused most of the time?

They're BAAAAACK.

Seth and Chris are back from Colorado.  They did a bro-trip to help Thomas move, and it basically went off without a hitch.  Or three.  They were due to fly back on Monday -- or so I thought.  I texted them all of the flight information.  Thomas had already printed it,so they confirmed that they had it.  Monday afternoon, I got three phone calls, in rapid succession, from Seth's phone.  I was working, so I couldn't get the phone, but called him back a couple of minutes later.  "Yeah, Mom?  Uh......that flight for today?  Yeah, it's for tomorrow."  ::sigh::  Turned out that we had all missed the little detail of what day the flight was, so off they went, back to explore more trails for one more day.

Jim and I drove to the airport to get them at 11pm last night.  That man is so sweet, he wouldn't let me go alone.  So we drive up, and the boys are sitting on concrete poles with their backpacks, looking like the fairly seasoned (goobs) travellers that they are.  Non-stop babbling later, we had gotten most of the highlights of the trip.

So tonight, we decided to take them to Ponderosa for dinner.  (It was liver and onions night. WOOHOO!)  We drove through a roundabout, and saw an Asian couple jogging in place, waiting for us to pass.  Jim said "Asians jogging.  Everybody Wang Chung tonight."  Seth responded, "That's WONG."

Man, I missed that boy.

Naptown.

School started last Thursday for Seth. He likes school, but lamented its return for at least two weeks of his roughly six week summer break. His school is year round, but a rather warped year round, so he really doesn't get a long break. Nonetheless, Irvington Preparatory didn't read his memo, and started on schedule.

Now, Seth is a night owl. He likes to stay up late, but frequently wimps out and falls asleep long before his buddies. Last week, however, he ended up staying up pretty late the night before school starts, and in the morning, it showed. Keep in mind that the boy has two alarm clocks that go off -- one on one side of his head, the other on the other side. He doesn't even flinch. So every morning, the conversation is the same, and it goes like this:

"Seth. Seeeeeeth. SETH."
"::unintelligible::
"What? You have to get up."
"I'm awake."
"You have to be vertical or I'm not leaving this room."
"It's ok. I'm awake." (said as he lays stock-still, wrapped in his blanket. I haven't seen eyes yet.)
"Seth. Sit up. I'm not leaving until I see you UP."
::sits up, wrapped in a blanket like the Virgin Mary, looking like he lives under a bridge::
"I'm awake."
"Now, don't lay back down. Do you want the light?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Ok. Have a good day."

This has been our morning conversation for two years. Occasionally he surprises me and actually wakes up for the alarm, but I think he likes our little exchange, or he's a glutton for punishment, one or the other. Well, Thursday, he was wiped out, but he knew I was driving him to school (first day, Mommy wants to see him off to school, you know), so he got up and motivated. Friday morning wasn't a whole lot better, but he got up and moving, and we made it to school just in time for him to get to class. Monday morning came, and his wagon was still draggin -- he actually did fall back to sleep briefly, but he was up in time to get in the car, though I'm not 100% positive he remembered the trip.

And then today came.

I have mentioned in the past that the boy talks in his sleep. I have also mentioned that he will have entire conversations with you that he doesn't ever remember having. Well, this morning, I went in and woke him up like usual. I use the term "woke up" loosely, as I was pretty sure he was having one of those unconscious conversations. He had actually gone to bed at a fairly reasonable hour, but he was dead to the world when I walked in. Here's how it went:

"Seth. Seeeeeeetthhhh. SETH. SETH SETH. SETH!"
::garbled unintelligible verbiage::
"SETH. Wake UP."
"garbled unintelligible verbiage::
"Seth, you have to get up. I have to see you vertical or I'm not leaving this room."
"wha......." ::garbled unintelligble verbiage::
::he makes a move, but he is wrapped up like a mummy. He sits up about 1/4 of the way, gets tangled, gives up, and lies back down::
"SETH. UP. NOW."
::He sits up. Unintelligble speech. "I'm up." The eyes are open. He is looking at me. He is probably totally unaware of what is going on, but I keep going."
"Are you awake?"
"I'm awake."
"Do you want the light?"
::unintelligble speech::
"What? You need to wake up. Don't lie back down."
"I'm awake."
"Do you want the light?"
"Yeah. Thank you."
"OK, I am going to turn on the light. Do NOT lie back down. Don't go back to sleep. You have to walk to school today, so you have to wake up."
"Ok, I'm fine."

Amazingly, he made it to school on time. I live in amazement of his abilities to get awake, when he looks so bedraggled. He is much like me -- I hate morning. So tonight, we were discussing the next couple of days, because I am off, and I can take him to school. And here's the conversation that followed.

"Did you wake me up this morning? Because if you did, I don't remember it at all."
"Yes, I did."
"Did you talk to me, because I don't remember it at all."
"Yes, we had an entire conversation, but you were pretty sleepy."
"I don't remember it at all."
"Well, it was one of those ones where I knew you were asleep, and I figured you wouldn't remember it."
"I don't."
"So Seth, I know I've been waking you up later than usual. What time do you want to get up?"
"Whenever you get up."
"But that's what I've been doing. I've been getting up later than usual though, so I'm getting you up late, and I know you need extra time to get awake. What time do you want to get up?"
"Whenever you get up."
::getting nowhere::
"Seth, what time do you set your alarm clock for?"
"Six thirty."
"OK, so I will get you up at 6:30."
"I used to set it for 5:30."
::mother shudders::
"Why in the world would you want to get up that early?"
"So I can take a nap."

Ponder that for a minute.

"So you get up earlier so you can take a nap?"
"Yeah, I like to wake up, then take a nap, so I can get awake better when I get up."

Hmmm........hmmm............I will say, this child must not be related to me, because I fly out of the bed at the last possible moment, many days, because I hate to get up, hate the sound of the alarm clock, hate morning, and everything associated with it, and if the boy didn't live here, I would seriously find a way to not get out of bed at any time that has an AM associated with it. And I will also say that there is NO WAY that I am going to wake this boy up at 5:30 am, because there is absolutely no reason on earth good enough for anyone to get up that early in the morning, unless George Clooney is involved, and I wouldn't need to be getting out of bed for that, so it's a moot point.

So tomorrow, the boy will be wakened at 6:30, and hopefully he will wake up. In time for his nap.

Riding in Cars with Boys

So, I went there and back again today. I had to make a run to Chicago to pick up some cabinets. They wouldn't fit in my car, of course, so I rented a cargo van to do it. You know, one of those serial killer vans? Well, I had to take Seth and his buddy with me, so they could do the lifting, and wow, was that a treat.

I just love teenaged boys. They make the most interesting road trip companions.

First, they asked me if I had duct tape, because they wanted to duct tape their mouths and wrists and look out the back window frantically during the trip -- just to freak out the people behind us, and to confirm the serial killer aspect of the van. Ixnay on that one -- more because we didn't have duct tape than anything. I would've loved to have a picture of that. I feel fairly certain it would be Seth's Facebook profile picture shortly thereafter. The next thing you know, CPS and/or the FBI would be knocking on my door, so maybe it wouldn't be a good idea after all.

On the way there, they mostly did nerd things like Algebra 2, talking about cube roots, played chess, and slept. Boooooring! The trip home was a whole different matter.

There was one point at which Nick was playing with the radio, giving his commentary on the stations in a word or three -- white noise, country, "Nope", white noise, female singer, "don't like you," white noise, rap, "uh-uh", white noise, more singing, "boring", white noise, male singer, "you can't sing," white noise, rap, "no way," white noise, more music..........you get the drift. I can't remember exactly what he ended up leaving it on, because I was more interested in the commentary than the actual music.

I had mentioned to the boys that they had missed all of the huge windmill-wind-energy-thingies on the way up there, so Seth asked me to be sure to point them out on the way home. Like you can miss the things -- they are HUGE, and there are dozens of them. It looks to me like something out of War of the Worlds, and quite frankly, they are a little creepy. Well, Seth was zonked when we got to them on the way home, so I poked him, and got a "huh?" I told him the windmills were in front of him. He said "neat," stared into space for a minute, and was out again. A few minutes later, I decided to poke him again, because we were close enough to see how big they were. "Huh?" "Windmills." "Neat." Stare into space. Zonked.

I don't think he remembers seeing them now. I'm not even sure he did, because he looked messed up.

About half an hour later, the cabinets I picked up were rattling to beat the band, and I do mean it was LOUD. I jokingly told Nick to quit messing with them, at which point he half-yelled "there was a spider, and it was huge, and I hate spiders." I asked where said spider was. He looked at me like I was nuts, and told me he'd killed it dead. This turned into an interesting discussion about spider heaven. 16 year old little philosophers they are.

A little while later, Seth looked out the window, and I heard him say "COOL!" I asked him what, and he turned and looked at me with some kind of giddy and said "have you ever moved your Adam's apple up and down while looking in the mirror? It's amazing!" Somehow I don't think MY Adam's apple would be amazing, but whatever floats your boat, brother. It kept the boy entertained, that's all I've got to say.

And of course, when I pulled into the CVS drive-thru, Einstein and his buddy asked what I was doing. "Picking up my drugs," said I, to which they both responded "cocaine, or weed?"

I need to start drinking.

The Grapes of Seth

This son 'o mine never fails to crack me up.

I came home from a night of treadmilling, and Seth came bursting into the kitchen sliding sideways past me. "Do we have any grapes? I need a grape," he said, as he opened the refrigerator door. I told him I was fairly sure that we did not have grapes. I was actually QUITE sure that we didn't have any grapes, but that didn't stop him from frantically rifling the fridge, nonetheless, after which he turned to me and said "do we have a candle? I need a candle."

I reminded him that candles require fire to be of any use, and that Seth and fire stopped being a good idea like..........well, never. He kept badgering me frantically about a candle, and he went gliding -- no joke -- into the living room to get one. He came back into the kitchen asking whether we had a lighter. I pointed out that any lighters we had likely went out the door with his father, and I doubted there was one here. I told him to use a piece of spaghetti, which is the way I always light candles. He asked about that "clicky thing we use to light the fireplace," and I directed him to where it was.

I seemed to be having a problem getting an explanation as to why he needed the non-existent grape and a candle, when he informed me that he'd been watching "really interesting videos" on youtube. I asked if they involved things blowing up. He responded, "not exactly." So far this whole thing has not instilled confidence in my situation, and I barely had my jacket off.

So The Boy finds the candle, then comes in and lights it with said clicky lighter thing. Then blows OUT the candle. And semi-immediately clicks the lighter above the candle. The lighter lit. Like normal. Disappoinment on boy's face. The process was repeated. And repeated again. Each time, a sigh of disappointment. Finally after the fourth time, he pronounced that it didn't work. I asked him if he was supposed to be creating a fireball of death or what, and he responded, that no, the grape was supposed to kind of melt into a ball of protoplasm.

Except that he never found a grape. And I still have no idea where the grape was supposed to be put, since all he was doing was lighting a candle, blowing it out, and then clicking the lighter.

Sometimes I am fairly certain that Seth and I are not in the same orbit, but I want to be in his, because it is a very happy place where people are easily amused. Even without the grapes.

Six degrees

Tonight after dinner, Dan asked Seth to grab his bottle of vitamins from the bin that was on the counter nearby. Seth looked at him rather blankly and said "which bottle is it," at which point both of us said "it's the one that says Vitamins." ::sigh::

So he starts going through the bin and pulls out a bottle. "Anti-diarrhea," said he. Then he pulled out a big bottle of Ibuprofen, read the label silently, then tossed it back into the bin. "It's a white bottle," said Dan. Seth promptly pulled up a prescription bottle -- orange -- to which Dan said "It says VITAMINS on it." "I don't know which one it is. None of them say Vitamins." ::sigh:: I said "it might say One a Day or something on it." He responded, "none of them say Vitamins. " He then starting clicking off the bottles he found: "Ibuprofen." "Anti-diarrhea." "Menstrual Relief," said with a particularly sassy tone that promptly caused Dan to hop up from his chair, grab the right bottle and hold it up triumphantly in front of the boy. The boy responded, equally triumphantly "It says Central-Rite! Not Vitamins." Dan's response was a Father Knows Best "well, it starts with a V."

And that's when it started.

Seth: "Well, so does Ventricle."
Dan: "Ventilate."
Seth: "Vitreum. Yeah, I know chemistry stuff."

Dan didn't have a chance to regroup before Seth burst out with a loud "Ven-testicle." Proving that age old law of teenagedom: there are no more than six degrees of separation between a teenaged boy and a dirty, or pseudo-dirty, thought.

Seth-anese at the dinner table

A dinner discussion involved something about high school valedictorians. Seth's response? "What's a valedictorian? Cause for some reason, every time I hear that word, I think of the janitor."

What???

To be fair, he did say that he knew what a valedictorian is. He just couldn't remember. And maybe hethought they scrubbed toilets after graduation.

Bedtime with Bozos

So, we decided to take the kids to Cedar Point this weekend. Thomas wasn't up for it, so we took Seth's BFF Chris, who appears to have joined our household, with the blessing of his parents, most weekends. Chris is six weeks younger than Seth, and they've been friends since they used to sit on Zoe Martinez in the nursey of our church, when they were less than a year old. They are two mismatched peas in a pod -- Seth stands about 6-8 inches taller than Chris, at this point -- but they are definitely buddies.

A lot can be learned from teenagers, especially boys, and even more especially while on an extended ride in the car. Take, for example, movies. Chris cannot make it more than about ten minutes in the van before he wants a movie put in. I personally don't care, because I'm driving, but Jill likes movies too, and this time, she happened to bring a whole CD casefull. After much voting by raising of hands, they decided to put in Eagle Eye, with that Leboeuf boy that Jill is always remarking about. This, of course, meant that surely there would be peace in the van but no. Halfway through it, Jill woke up yelling that the movie was too loud. Big surprise, as this movie has a LOT of explosions in it, and the fact that the volume has to be up pretty far in the van for anyone to be able to hear it.

Later, after we were settled in the hotel, the kids had been for a swim and we'd had dinner, we sat watching some fabulous food channel show that involved people making cakes based on various Pixar films, Shrek 2 on Broadway, and the like. Yummy stuff! We finally had to turn it off not only so we could get up in the morning, but so that we didn't get a sugar buzz. Jill was sleeping with her head on the opposite end on the rollaway bed, Dan and I had one bed, and the boys were sideways on their bed. Pitch black. A round of "Night John Boy, 'Night Mary Ellens, and we were near sleep. Then it broke loose.

I think it started with Seth doing something to Chris. I'm not really sure what, but Chris jumped on top of Seth in retaliation, causing his head to crash against the nightstand, and he emitted a newly deep man-voice shriek of pain. Chris laughed, of course. I couldn't tell what had happened, because a) it was pitch black in the room and b) I didn't have my glasses on. Seth was half laughing, half wincing, when he said what happened. I asked if he needed the light on so I could look at it, but we were all rather in fear of waking up Jill again, so he said no.

Silence fell over the room.

From the other bed, Chris and Seth started again, a scuffle ensued, at which point I got up and whacked whomever I could reach, as hard as I could with a pillow. I think it was Chris, but truth be told, I have no idea. All I heard was a loud OOMPH, a "you're gonna wake up Jill," and then quiet, before Seth started laughing again, the cycle started anew, and it all broke open all over again. At this point, I realized Dan was no longer in our bed. Before I could figure out where he'd wandered off to in the dark, I heard Seth saying -- VERY quickly, and in a crescendo of pubescent male voice -- "coldcoldcoldcoldCOldCOLDCOLD" that sounded distinctly like there was probably ice involved. Ice going down the back, perhaps. "What in the world are you doing NOW?" I said.

Seth replied "I just got hit with a peach."

That was it. Any sense of composure was lost. It wasn't so much WHAT Dan did -- I'm still not sure, but I do know that a peach from the refrigerator ended up against someone's bare back -- it was Seth's delivery of the line that got me, and I got the giggles so badly that yes, I woke the sleeping giant. Jill blasted out of her bed, yelling about being SO tired, and why couldn't we KEEP IT DOWN. Our response was, of course involuntary fits of giggles, until she said forget it, she was leaving and going out on a walk, because we obviously were not going to let anyone sleep.

That walk lasted about two minutes till, we found out later, she wandered into the hall, only to hear two drunken guests explain in some rather graphic detail what they planned to do to one another when they got back to the room. I guess after that, her out of control laughing family seemed pretty good, because she came back in, silent, and climbed back into her bed in a now pin-drop-quiet room. Of course, she couldn't see how our bed was shaking, since Dan and I were still being wracked with uncontrollable giggles, but at least we had silenced the beast.

Next day, it was off to Cedar Point, where I got to enjoy such interactions between the boys as this one:

Seth: "Wow, Mom, that looks like the salt water taffy Jen brought us from Florida."
Chris: "Wow, maybe that's because it IS salt water taffy, dumbie."

Yeah, you gotta love 'em. Can't live with 'em. Can't assault 'em with a peach. 'Night John Boy.

Sethanese, revisited

I've been gone for a while, but man, oh man, has it been busy! I've bought a
new website, which is so much fun, but also a lot of work at the same time. Work is always good, in my book, though, so that's fine.

Also been doing the nursey thing too, which is always entertaining. Over the summer, I got the "official" title of trainer, and I've been busy training the new staff, as well as the old. Taking calls, too, of course, which is my constant source of entertainment. Best one this week? Probably the mom who called to say that her 8yo son was chillin' out on the couch, just watching TV, when his little brother came and jammed a thermometer in his ear. YOWZA! Kinda like that scene in Batman where the joker makes the pencil disappear. Needless to say, that kid went to the ER, and I had a headache the rest of the night.

But today, I was off, so Seth and I drove to Vincennes to get Thomas and his roommate for the weekend. We got running late, so I told Seth I'd buy him some Arby's on the way there. Ordered, with little or no idea what the guy said when he repeated it back, because the speaker was so bad. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when we drove off and found that Seth not only hadn't gotten the honey mustard he asked for, but that he had a lemonade instead of a Sprite.

And so, in the interest of those wanting to become fluent in Sethanese, I thought I'd share the conversation with you:
S: "This Sprite tastes like lemonade. That's weird."
M: "IS it lemonade?"
S: "Maybe. Oh well, no big deal."
Silence, while eating. Seth was eating barbecue chicken shakers with ketchup on them. Made me need a Prilosec, just looking at it.

About 25 miles later, out of the blue:
S: "It's so weird that they gave me lemonade when it's raining outside."
M: "What does the rain have to do with it?"
S: "Never mind."
M: "No, really. What's the difference?"
S: "Well, lemonade isn't a rainy day drink. You drink lemonade when it's hot outside, not on rainy days."
M: "Well, what about Sprite? When do you drink Sprite?"

The question was met with a long, hard stare from Seth, who just shook his head at my ignorance, and said "never mind," in that dismissive tone that lets the parent of a teenager know that they are way, way beneath the subject material.

And so, to sooth my broken ego, I went looking for something gaw-geous, and found this absolutely smashing vintage 60s emerald Lurex dress, from

Figure 8 Studio. WOWZA! Grab it up now.

Tree Hater Child

I have a teenage son. He's actually a pretty good kid: smart -- probably genius level, actually -- funny, never given us a moment's trouble. He seems like a normal person. Till we go camping.

We started camping two years ago, when he was about 15. Bought the tent, sleeping bags, and were given a lot of camping gear from friends who figured we would last about ten minutes in the woods, then head to the nearest Holiday Inn. I had my doubts, myself, quite frankly. But, we set up the tent in the backyard for a dry run -- on a night when it was about 35 outside, and hubby went out there to sleep with the kids.

By 2am, they were all inside.

Our first camping trip, we were no sooner out of the van, when ds decided to take a metal baseball bat and strike the nearest tree with full force. Now, this is no small kid -- he's about 6 foot, and wears a size 52 jacket. Any football team would love to have him. Well, he reeled back and clobbered that tree, which retaliated by bouncing the bat back in his face and clocking him a good one. I thought that our first camping trip was over before we ever unloaded the first thing from the van, and that ds would be in a coma before the smores were done.

Turns out I'm wrong -- two years later, we still go out at least a couple of times a summer. Well, we went out last weekend, and ds got out of the car and promptly punches a tree with his fist. HARD. Of course, I missed this, but he told me about it later, with a great deal of pride. I told him watch out, because the trees were probably like those ones in Lord of the Rings, and would retaliate. He just shook his head and wandered off, wondering why I thought it weird that my "gifted" son likes to pummel trees.

But that was before he lit his hand on fire, on purpose, with bug spray, later that night. Makes a mother wonder -- was it that Mountain Dew I drank whilst pregnant with him, or what?