You Have a Piano Tied to Your Ass?

If I had a nickel for every time we've told the teenagers about our own adventures as teens, I'd be a bazillionaire.  Yes, that's BAZILLION!  A real number, for sure.  When we were teenagers, we walked everywhere.  Want to hang with friends at the mall?  Walk.  Want to go to a party?  Walk.  Want to hit up WEM?  Bus.  For almost an hour.  If we wanted to go somewhere or do something, we needed to get there and back on our own, whether by foot or two-wheeler or 52-seater.

When we were teenagers, sometimes it rained.  And, sure, that may have made our travels a little more difficult, but I can honestly say some of my best walks were in the rain.  It's not like we were made of sugar.

These days, our kids expect us to be their on-call chauffeurs.  Regardless of time, place or situation, the phone will chirp and we're expected to jump.

Let me be perfectly clear, there is no way we would allow our kids to be in a unsafe situation, get rides with strangers, or be stranded.  We've also made it perfectly clear to them that we don't mind being the taxi, for the kids or their friends, provided it's something that is arranged in advance.  For example, don't ask to hang at the library or the mall after school and then call as we're putting kids to bed or have just walked back into the door and expect we'll be at your beck and call, dear teenager.

Which is pretty much what just happened with M.  She had arranged a few days ago to go study at a friend's after school and then watch the season premiere of a favourite show, telling Dad she'd be done by 9:00.  Not asking for a ride, mind you...just that she'd be finished around 9.  So a text comes in to Dad, who had just walked in the door from a meeting, asking to be picked up.  We're mid pow wow with A, are furiously putting kids to bed, and not expecting this request.  At all.  So the response seemed obvious: No.  You can walk home.  It's not that far.  (Maximum 20 minutes.)

A few minutes later, as I'm looking online for jobs for the aforementioned teenagers, I hear a car door slam out front.  I peek out the window and sure enough she has finagled a ride from one of the parents at that end.  Set aside the obvious embarrassment when our kid tells them her parents won't pick her up, and question her inability, at 16, to walk the short distance home.

And it's not even raining.

I'm sure you can hear me McHollering from there.

Meet the McHollers!

I always appreciate knowing a bit of background about the people I'm reading.  Plus, it might be easier for YOU if you've got a map of the McHoller family, founded 2010.

Dad: My partner in crime, assistant Mom and best friend.  Biologically, he's Dad to 4 of our 6 kids.  The two oldest and the two youngest.  Realistically, he's Dad to all of us sometimes.  And son to me at others.  At this point, he's the only working person in our household...so that's pretty great.

Me: I like to think of myself as Cruise Director for the SS McHoller.  I'm the one who schedules, organizes, plans and orders kids around.  I manage to make all of them happy some of the time, and some of them happy none of the time.  Or something like that.  I also rock a punch line.  Just sayin'.

M: At 16, she is our oldest.  She's strong and independent and great to hang out with.  M is in 11th grade and loves indie music, sweaters and books.  Sometimes, she's a teenager, but we don't hold it against her.  Nobody is perfect all of the time.

A: Born 13 months after her sister, she is 15 and every bit the teenager.  A is social and flirtatious, and secure in herself.  Usually.  She is a teenaged girl after all.  She loves being around people and will always be found in a crowd.  Like any teen, she's black or white, hot or cold, loves us or hates us...but we wouldn't expect anything less.

J: Just started Junior High, after turning 12 this summer.  He's going to be a famous "You Tuber" someday...if he ever stops watching them long enough to actually record himself.  J is athletic, basketball and golf are favourites, and would disappear into his xBox if he could.  He's great with the critters and an ace shot with the comeback.

L: Two-and-a-half years behind his brother, he is a force to be reckoned with.  He's in 4th grade and, after being diagnosed with Dylexia in 2nd, he's worked his butt off to keep pace with his peers, wearing a grin every step of the way.  He'll crack you up, bounce off the walls, read you a book and dance like a monkey...all in 20 minutes flat.

B: Our baby girl is 8, going on 16.  She loves school and is kind to everyone and everything.  B loves running guns with the boys or painting nails with the girls, and plays a mean game of Uno.  She's artistic and creative and decorates her room with her own masterpieces.  B's smile is contagious, just try and not share her joy!

H: Another 13 months and H burst into the world! He's 7 and can probably slam out about that many words per second when he's on a roll.  Per.  Second.  And, force to be reckoned with?  When L and H team up, you'd better get out-the-way.  H is happy and hilarious, whether he's dancing a jig or throwing a fit.  His favourite place is anywhere with an iPad, and once in a while he stops talking to play.

We're the McHollers!  But don't look for us in the phonebook.  That's our Family name, but not a real one.  We took all our surnames, threw them in a blender and that's what we got.  Now that's what you'd call a blended family.  That's what we call McHollering...

In the Beginning

And so it begins...