Lip Smacking Finger Licking Crazy Love

I've been accused over the years of being undemonstrative and that 's OK because the only people that voice that opinion usually just aren't part of the Mayor's inner circle. The kids were all given plenty of sensory stimulation as babies and children.

Hugging and kissing people I've just met? Not so much. That fake Beverly Hills 90210 thing is so back in vogue amongst the pre-teen, teenage culture right now and I really disapprove. It smacks of insincerety. One minute they are hugging as a greeting among girlfriends and a few skips down the road they're including their new friends who are boys in the ritual.

Being that I have 3 teenagers (all girls) still at home I've explained my feelings on this subject but being teens they are so much smarter and cooler than me when it comes to relationships with those outside of our family. So I break out the big guns of directness and let these young'uns know that they need to keep their boobage off the adolescent boys they hang out with, no matter how casual their relationship is.

I've only had the experience of raising one teenage boy (who as you can see above is now a young man). I have tried to communicate to my girls how mothers of teenage boys feel about the girls (even when they are just friends) who are overly aggressive in displaying their affection will feel about said girls. I recall succinctly how I used to feel about that subject when the Prince was in a crowd of giggling females displaying their young female charms in a very overt way. I didn't like it. And I wasn't quite as cool about their hanging out as I might have been if they'd show some discretion and kept their hands to themselves.

Girls (unfortunately mine included) are just so aggressive these days. I realize they are growing up receiving a lot of mixed messages and it's confusing. The marketing machine has oversexualized everything for this generation. Don't even get me started on the teen clothing available to young ladies, you can read that rant in Abercrombie Is A Bitch. It's hard to clothe your young girls in a fashionable way that is not too revealing.

No wonder Oprah and a slew of other relationship gurus are making bank on this phenomenon. I'm saying, "Girls (young and old alike) have some respect for yourselves and quit chasing after those guys like crazy hyenas." And quit falling for all the bullsh*# slung your way when all it really means is he is just not that in to you.

And believe me, you deserve to have some one who is crazy into you.

Which brings me to my original purpose of this little story and that is to say that while we don't hug and kiss all of the time around here, when we do it can be a little overboard.

Our spontaneous bursts of affection for each other are often unexpected, or sometimes posed for the camera, but there is never a doubt that they are authentic.

They are all crazy about each other (all while often driving each other crazy).

On a road trip old Miss S was being surly in the car. So when we stopped for a breather I gave her a good lickin'. Nothing like an unexpected lickin' from your mom to horrify an adolscent and get them to snap out of it after they finish yelling "sttoooppp".

Of course now the whole licking as a means of displaying affection (or sometimes provoking your opponent) has gotten to be a family tradition.

So there you have it. I have this family that I am absolutely crazy about. But let me put it on the record, I have never licked the dog.

Cards Disrupted

This post is dedicated to my beautiful cousin Denise, who passed away April 15, 2009 after a 13 year long battle with Lymphoma. She was one tough cookie whose absence has left a definite hole in my heart. I have no idea why she was so cooperative for this picture I took of her and her nephew Michael last Thanksgiving, but I'm glad that she was.

The original version labeled, “Thursday is for Cards” was written about a year ago entirely at the Apple store (while getting much needed tutoring for my blog). I had no idea how accurate the last paragraph would be in reference to our routine being disrupted so soon. The last time I spoke with Denise was when visiting her in the hospital. The last thing she said to me was, “See you next week at cards”.

Here is my original story about my wickedly fun family members:

Maintaining family ties is something I take seriously. Although I grew up with only one stinky brother, my mom had 8 siblings providing me with about 40 cousins in my extended family. 5 of the sisters formed a particularly tight knit group that stood the test of time through every joy and every measure of grief that comes to a family over a generation. They were not a demonstrative group. Not big on hugging, didn’t end every conversation with “I love you” but there was no doubt that they did, with a fierceness and loyalty that came from growing up poor in Detroit after the Depression.

I believe one effective tool in keeping in touch is to have a standing date, something you commit to doing on a frequent basis. My aunts all played cards weekly. Poker was their game and friday was their night. Generally men were rarely allowed to play. They usually didn’t get their game on until 9 or 10 p.m. after kids were settled for the night. It wasn't unusal for the games to end in the wee hours of the morning. Many a drive home was made with the sun coming up. Being daughters of this band of sisters we were definitely inclined to follow in their footsteps.

Every thursday I meet up with my aunt and my band of cousins to play cards. It’s a commitment I rarely miss and we all relentlessly rag on any member that misses a play date. I have lived long enough to value the time spent with this gang of mine, no matter how mundane the activity. We share DNA, have our “short speak” and private code words which we can use in public to converse and insult people without them realizing it. Besides that, we have fun and inevitably laugh until our sides are aching. And we are not even drinking!

We have played cards together on an irregular basis for ages but the past year we have been meeting on thursday mornings in my cousin’s cozy place. My aunt is the ring leader. She entertains us with all the stories of the McVicar sister’s (including my mother’s) antics growing up in Detroit. My aunt is the only person from her generation of the large McVicar family still living. One day I’ll enlighten you with some of her racier tales. The bonus at Tina’s place is there are no men, no kids and sometimes we play all bloody day long if we feel like it.

I rarely win. Blame it on my non-competitive constitution or maybe it’s just my state of befuddlement I sometimes find myself in. I am not very strategic. All I can really say is thank you to Michigan’s crappy economy and GM’s lay offs for giving us this opportunity and freedom to enjoy each other.

Eventually things will happen to disrupt our sacred schedule and I’ll miss not sharing tea, sweets and card playing with these women who have become even more precious to me. But because we all come from a long line of loyal, stubborn Scottish blood we will find a way to keep meeting although it may be a little less often.