Poorly Legumes

Recently I went upstairs to where my teenage daughter was lounging on her bed talking to friends on MSN in a very strange language and handed her a bowl of profiteroles dripping in chocolate sauce.

She responded with: "Ooh! Profiteroles! Sick bean!"

If anyone could explain the last two words, I would be extremely grateful. And yes, I did ask said daughter, but she couldn't help.

Google Mood Ring (Green): Steady, stable, no emotional turmoil

Unwashed Teenage Blondes

Well, for those who know what I mean, Second Life is down for updating and the Beta grid doesn't seem to be working either, so I may as well prattle in here a bit seeing as I haven't done for a while.

Perhaps I will moan about my teenage daughter for a paragraph or two. What is it about teenage daughters and clothes? Mine has like hundreds of things to wear, but yesterday she wanted to wear the one thing that hadn't been washed. Never mind that everything else was clean and dry, it just had to be the one top that she'd forgotten to give me for washing the day before.

We had far more fun during the Easter holidays, though. Her hair is naturally medium-dark brown with red highlights. Due to the fact that, like her mother, she can be a bit scatter-brained at times, the majority of her schoolfriends have told her that she should have been born blonde (she was actually dark blonde as a toddler, but it darkened). Anyway, to this end she decided to colour her hair blonde. Unfortunately, being 'blonde', she didn't make too good a job of it and ended-up with a large patch of very blonde hair on top, surrounded by reddish blonde, graduating to gingery-brown as it went further down. She did all this at her father's and he hadn't the common sense to tell her that with hair the length of hers she'd need two or three packets of colourant, not one. She did try using several others afterwards, but it didn't seem to work.

I had a similar problem when I was her age. My hair then was extremely dark brown (blue-black in some lighting), but it also had red in it. Blonde highlights were all the rage when I was about the same age my daughter is now and as my mother didn't want to pay for me to have them, I decided to try them myself. I bought myself a box of peroxide, grabbed an old toothbrush, and ... well, the end result was several huge frizzy pieces of ginger fuzz and the eventual loss of an entire head of hair that had taken me years to grow to well past the bottom of my bra strap. The hairdresser insisted the only way to solve the problem was to cut it all off to nape of the neck level (way above the bottom of my bra strap, on account of the fact that I have never worn a bra around my neck). Since then, it hasn't seemed to want to grow much past my shoulders, so goodness only knows what damage I did to it.

The upshot of this is that my daughter ended-up having to colour her hair medium-dark brown and the final count in financial terms was around £30 to get herself back to the colour she'd started with.

Google Mood Ring (Blue): Comfortable, breezy, at rest, lovable.

Moaning Musical Mothers

My teenage daughter told me off today. OK, so it's nothing new (I'm a lousy mother), but I do feel that she was out of order on this occasion. It's not as if I was doing anything wrong, I was only SINGING. I suppose the fact that I was wearing headphones (I'd been told to do that because I was disturbing her tv viewing) meant I was singing rather loudly (like you do when you're wearing headphones), but it's not as if I can't sing (well OK, I've had better singing days, but I'm still in tune). The thing is, since I've discovered Last.fm, I've been able to listen to all sorts of stuff I haven't heard in years, plus lots of new stuff, and I just have to sing to it if I'm in a singing mood. And today I just happened to be in a singing mood.

Anyway, I had a sort of indie morning, then I switched to the old sixties flower power stuff, which I just can't resist warbling to. It takes me back to when I was young and free and hopeful and totally unaware of the existence of "good old days". Anyway, there I was, warbling away at the top of my voice to Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds and I got told off. I am now about to start warbling at the top of my voice to Itchycoo Park (for the second time) and no doubt I will get told off again, because I also sing this one very loudly (well, you have to, haven't you. Poor Stevie's been dead for almost 16 years, he wouldn't hear me if I didn't ... my god, has it been that long?). Anyway, let's face it, lyrics these days just can't compare to blowing your mind by getting hung-up feeding ducks with a bun.

My eldest son was here this morning and he sort of told me off as well, although not for singing. He said it didn't seem at all right that his mother should enjoy the same sort of bands he did and as a result he was seriously considering changing his musical tastes totally. I reminded him that he was the one who was heavily into the Doors, which were actually from my era not his, but he excused that by pointing out that the Doors were timeless and therefore didn't count.

One thing I've noticed is that some people on Last.fm have no idea how to tag music. As an example, I am more than happy to listen to Ace of Base because I like them (I am warbling away to them now as it happens), but they are NOT from the flower-power era, not unless it lasted into the 90's, which it didn't. And has anyone else noticed that the intro to "Always Have, Always Will" is almost identical to the intro to "I Can't Help Myself" by the Four Tops? Well, it is. Listen to them both and you'll see what I mean. Talking of "I Can't Help Myself" (sugar-pies, honey-bunches), I still remember the dance to that ... and the dance to "Band of Gold" ... and the dance to "Get it On" ... hell, I'm old. I need another visit from Christine to make me feel better. Then again, having seen her latest photos, maybe I don't.

Fading Out and Fading In

Coping with hormones that are disappearing at a rate of knots is not an easy task. Coping with said hormones whilst living with an adolescent daughter whose hormones are just starting to appear is ten times worse.

Mother Nature has always been a classic example of irony as an art form and she's really been to town on me this last year or so. My daughter entered pre-adolescence at around the same time I left pre-menopause and about the time I finally accepted that I wasn't going to have anymore periods, my daughter had her first. Not that I mind not having periods, it's just that when they stop you realise that you are on the last lap of life. There's nothing left except old age and that's one hell of a scary thought.

The symptoms I am experiencing now are very similar to those I experienced during my pregnancies and this applies to the physical, emotional and mental. For a start, I've become increasingly bovine of late and can't remember simple things for longer than a few minutes, something I suffered terribly from during pregnancy. I'm also far moodier than usual, which means my menopausal moods are vying with my daughter's adolescent moods to see which are the moodiest. It's just as well I'm partnerless at the moment or the poor man would have run away anyway.

In my opinion, everything comes far too early. What is the point of girls starting their periods when they are only twelve? How many twelve-year-old girls want to have babies and even if they do, how many twelve-year-old girls could cope with a baby? How many twelve-year-old girls want to mess about with periods every month for that matter? My daughter has only had two so far and during the second she announced "I'm fed-up with this". Well, I had news for her - I told her she had around another forty years' worth of the things to go yet.

The menopause also comes too early. Both these things should start around a decade later, which would put an end to unwanted teenage pregnancies in one fell swoop and allow woman to keep their youthful looks and vitality long enough for them to be able to fully enjoy their freedom once their kids have left home.

Now, if I just knew who to contact to arrange for this to take place with immediate effect, I could wake-up tomorrow looking and feeling in my prime and raring to go, with a daughter who still wore Laura Ashley dresses, frilly white ankle socks and black patent leather shoes.