Yesterday afternoon, my husband left for a business trip. A rather extended one at a rather long distance away. For the next two weeks, he'll be in Tel Aviv. My teenage daughter and I will "hold down the fort."
Originally, I had planned to join him for a few days. We had a sizable credit on United and his hotel is already taken care of. I've never been to Israel and our plans included taking day trips to Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, and other historic and religious sites. Unfortunately, the current troubles there gave us pause. We agreed (and were reassured by many ) that Tel Aviv would be quite safe. But, I didn't want to go all the way there and back without seeing other places considered dangerous right now. He'll be headed back again in a few months and hopefully the political climate will have improved by then.
So, here we are without him — just the womenfolk. I wanted to make our first dinner together something special, but my daughter had other ideas. She and some friends went to Panera. Or was it Bertucci's? (The trash in the car — of which there was A LOT — indicated that they may have stopped at both of these fine dining establishments.) Either way, they definitely drove through McDonald's for McFlurries afterwards.
I had some leftover Chinese and read The New Yorker.
Long gone are the days when she and I used to delightedly plan "sleepover parties" while her dad was away on business. Our so-called "parties" weren't terribly exciting. They typically entailed pizza and a favorite DVD (depending on the year, it might have been The Little Mermaid 2, Lady and the Tramp 2, Peter Pan 2 — she had a thing for those Disney sequels). We'd stay up late! Then she would sleep in her father's place in my room. We only did this one night each business trip, because I never got enough sleep. My daughter was a kicker and a roller and a thrasher.
Sleep deprivation aside, I loved those times.
I miss them.
Now, at seventeen, sleeping with mom has very little allure. Oh, let's face it, it has no allure whatsoever! Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be working and trying to stick to my new year's resolutions (the usual: diet and exercise). My daughter will attend school, go to the stable, and prepare for mid-terms. Pretty much what we would do anyway, whether her dad were here or not.
It used to be a treat when I let her stay up late. These days, she's awake later than I am more often than not. I go to bed to read about 10 or so (and fall asleep soon after), and she's usually only halfway through her homework by then. Since I get up first, I typically find evidence of her nocturnal activity waiting downstairs. Dirty bowl in the sink with remnants of Ben & Jerry's S'mores. Throw pillows that have been ... well ... thrown about. Textbooks on the dining room table. iPad with significantly less charge left than I remembered.
My daughter likes to have our place to herself once in a while. It's tough because my office is in the house so I'm almost always here when she gets home from school. (Very 21st century. Her mother works beyond full-time, but she's the digital age opposite of a latchkey kid.) So, along with all of my regular activity, plus the household chores my husband usually handles (trash and recycling and dry cleaning and watering plants and checking the chemicals in our ancient, but still wonderful, hot tub), I plan to give her as much space and autonomy as I reasonably can.
Unless, that is, she asks to have a "sleepover party."
If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.
I still remember my first sleepover party. It was thrilling. I had a Girl Scout sleeping bag; I was eleven years old. It was my best friend's birthday and she took a bunch of us to see American Graffiti, most of which, I'm sure, went right over our heads. Then we camped out in the living room of her sprawling upper westside apartment. Between the hardwood floor, the gaggle of giggling girls and the novelty of not being in my own bed, I don't think I slept much.
There were also the cats. I'm desperately allergic, have been since I was tiny. My friend had not one, not two, but three felines. Two orange tabbies and an enormous Persian. So, I went home the next morning sleep-deprived and sneezing, itching and wheezing, and with eyes swollen shut.
I couldn't wait to sleepover again.
For a preteen girl, sleepovers were pretty much the best of the best. As I grew into my teens, I continued to attend (and sometimes host) slumber parties. Lots of them. They fell away once I went to college, of course ("sleeping over" meant something completely different at that point). But, sleepovers will always be an important right of passage in my tween and teen memory.
For my own teenage daughter? Not so much.
She and her cohorts had slumber parties earlier than we did. She was still in preschool I think when a friend had what her parents billed as a "sleepover/half-sleepover" party. The girls all wore pajamas and the more confident ones stayed over while others were picked up by parents mid-celebration.
When she turned seven, my daughter had a "Superstar" makeover-sleepover. Two of her teenage cousins (who were considered cool beyond belief by the guest set) joined us for hair and makeup, manis and pedis. A couple of years later, we hosted another sleepover, this one revolving around her favorite TV show The Saddle Club. We covered the dining room floor in bales of clean hay (to this day, nearly a decade later, we still find the odd bit of straw in the cracks of the floor). Fun was had by all.
Now a junior in high school, my daughter and her friends don't seem interested in sleeping over anymore. In fact, she's competing in a big horse event next week with another rider (and BFF). I suggested, you guessed it, a sleepover. To her credit, my daughter didn't roll her eyes or audibly sigh. But, she politely — and quickly — declined.
Why have sleepovers gone away? Why would an otherwise normal, healthy, red-blooded American teen not want to be up all night gossiping with her gal pals? Looking at pictures of Hollywood heartthrobs, making crank phone calls, participating in seances and eating junk food?
Waitaminute.
That's exactly what they are doing. It's just that mobile and digital technology allow them to be together ... apart. They are pretty much having remote slumber parties every night. They can Snapchat, Twitter, Facebook. They can Skype or FaceTime or LiveChat. They can group message, share pictures, flirt, tease, post videos.
We insist that my daughter leave her iPhone in the kitchen every night. It's one of the last vestiges of the rules we used to successfully enforce. (Oh, and if you ask her, it's m-o-r-t-i-f-y-i-n-g!!!!!!!) First of all, we leave ours down there too. Second, if we didn't have this rule, she would get even less sleep than she currently does.
And third, "Because I'm your mother, that's why!"
On the rare occasion that she goes to bed before I do, I can sometimes hear messages pinging through to her phone. Pretty much all night.
Hey, I was a teenager too once. It was the 1970s, which certainly may (which certainly does!) sound like ancient history. But, I'm glad I didn't have to deal with cyber bullying, texting or sexting when I was a teen. I'm glad I wasn't under the kind of pressure that high school juniors and seniors have to live with.
Most of all, I'm glad I got to go to sleepovers.
Cats and all.
If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.
