The morning I woke Jessie up at 6:30 with a 15 minute warning, then called her again at 6;45 to tell her it was time to get up. Yep, that's right, I called her. On the phone. I call her every morning twice--once to wake her up and give her 15 more minutes in bed to collect herself, and then again make sure she is awake enough to get up and get ready for school.
In the evening, I call her down from her room to set the table for dinner. On the phone. In our old house I just called out loud (or bellowed, as the rest of the family called it). But this house is too spread out for that, and even the loudest of my bellows from the bedroom won't penetrate upstairs. I could walk up the stairs, get some exercise, and talk to her in person. But, I have to say, I'm pretty tired these days. And she's a teenager: she is glued to her phone. So the phone is the best way to reach her. Part of me is appalled at this style of parenting and communication. (The June Cleaver part, who wants to prance around in an apron and pearls baking all day. Really. I have that part.) Another part just shrugs and says go with the flow, whatever works and doesn't cause stress. (Which both bellowing and going up the stairs do to one family member or another). I'm hoping to wean her onto an alarm clock next week. They haven't worked in the past, but, really, I have got to let go being responsible for her getting out of bed in the morning. It would be easier if I were a morning person. Then I would be up, and if I noticed she wasn't up, then I could get her up. But I can happily sleep until 10:00 and getting up regularly at 7:00 is just not going to happen anytime soon. I make myself get up at 8:00, but she would already have missed the bus if I didn't find out she was still asleep till 8:00. Of course, most days her father's already up by 7:00. Maybe he can be the back-up for awhile.
This morning, after making sure J was awake and up, I went back to sleep. I woke to the front door shutting (it's heavy). Apparently I was so soundly asleep (and snoring so loudly) that J didn't want to wake me before heading off to catch the bus. But the phone saved me a day of angst at not getting to say 'I love you and have a great day' as I quickly texted her that message and ended the text with a little emoji heart ❤️. This was a better option than running naked out the door and down the drive to do it in person. I know, June Cleaver would have woken her with a chirpy "Time to get up sleepy head!", and then made breakfast and lunch for her, ruffled her hair as she kissed her goodbye and tenderly sent her out for the day. I called her on the phone, and then I snored. Operatically. *sigh*
When I did finally rise for the day, shower, and get presentable, I practiced piano, poured myself a Killer Smoothie, and warmed a butter-slathered piece of the banana bread Dave and Jessie made over the weekend for breakfast. It felt like a good time to get a post in so I sat down to write, and there was a knock at the door... Unless it's UPS, USPS, FedEx, or a scheduled tradesman, we NEVER get knocks at the door. I thought it might be Zaga from next door come to set a time to go out for a drink with a couple of other women from the neighborhood, but no--there were two female silhouettes outside the door. We have been found by the Watchtower people. Inconceivable!!! Those girls are getting a lot of exercise for four houses worth of word-spreading. Interestingly they have savvied-up their publications. This one was entitled "How To Harness Your Habits" and showed a black woman smiling, and jogging with earbuds in on the cover. They waited until page seven to tell me that homosexuality is a sin and promptly lost me.
Now I'm off to the studio to put two kiln loads in (with the size of the kilns I currently have here, this isn't as impressive as it sounds), then a delivery of Secret Pall gifts to two teachers at J's school, and then I will let June Cleaver out to play for the rest of the day. I'll do a little house cleaning, and a little cooking/baking. On the menu are a sesame wheat bread from The Tassajara Bread Book (grinding my own sesame meal with the Vitamix for it), fresh pasta dough for four-cheese ravioli, and a chipotle cream sauce (with tofu and cream cheese, among other ingredients) and a pesto sauce, the last two made in the Vitamix. When Dave gets home he will grill salmon to accompany the ravioli, and I will make a salad with spring greens, fresh grapefruit, crumbled feta, pine nuts, and a dollop of the avocado/jalapeño/garlic/lime/yoghurt sauce Dave made the other night (also with the Vitamix--Best Kitchen Appliance Ever).
If we were empty nesters, I might even serve dinner in the apron and pearls...