I truly think we have lost our minds. After aborting an overnight to Washington D.C. last month, (my anxiety went carreening out of control two days prior..nice), we are headed to a brand new resort in the Poconos called Great Wolf Lodge. http://www.greatwolflodge.com. It is a 91,000 sq. ft. resort, with a HUGE indoor waterpark. We have been warned that it is Disney-esqe in terms of the cost of things. We are picking the girls up from school, (they are in the dark about the trip)and headed north. Nothing like putting your pasty-white, ample self in a bathing suit on April 28th. Just the thought of it frightens me. We have packed the appropriate snacks, juice boxes and the obligatory adult beverages. My sister and her family will be joining us, bringing the total kid number to five. Add in 30,000 other little cherubs and you've got yourself a weekend. Up, up and away...

Trying to raise a teenager is like trying to nail Jello to a tree. It just seems to slip through your fingers every stinkin' time you try to drive in the hammer. I found out today, that maybe driving the hammer is not the best way to get the job done. At this writing, my 13 year old is still holed up at a friend's house--not wanting to face the conflict, and I let her go. I spend my whole life trying to not let her out of my sight, keep her safe and raise her well. I sent her out the door with a "see ya." Unheard of for me. "I love you" has always been the final word. I struggled with that. She arrived home, contrite and calm. I was the same. Turns out she was right--leaving was the right choice, even for a brief period of time. A time to sort it all out. Now we are headed to the family room to watch the results of American Idol. Did something just happen here or was it all just dream?

There was a time when I would anticipate Friday, with the excitment of a little kid at Christmas. This, until I had a teenage daughter. Gone are the days of throwing on sweats, climbing into an evening beverage, gobbling up a pizza and cozying in with a movie. My "happy hour" now consists of answering more phone calls than the White House, and asking "Who, what, when and where." When what I really want to ask is "why?" Why don't you want to stay home with us anymore? Why do you need to go out? Why can't you be entertained here with us? I know we're giving her wings, (and they've even been clipped from time time time.) Who is this child and what did you do with the 6th grade honor roll student of last year? In some ways I can answer that question. She has become a 7th grader who is now old enough to watch her sister on a Friday night, so that my husband and I can go OUT for a beer and a burger. And that folks, is what we call a tradeoff.