Talking at midnight

My daughter called me late Friday night. She’s at the beach for a few days and without internet connection. Sounds like paradise to me. No idea why she’d call her mother. I sure as hell wouldn’t have when I was 21. But she did.

Of course, I thought something was wrong. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

Mothers don’t need a reason. “It’s kind of late.”

“Oh, I knew you’d be up.”

Well, okay, but still. I’d been thinking about going to bed. With the week I’ve had, I should have been in bed.

“Mom,” she said, “can you check my email for me?”

Yes dear, right after I don my cape and right all the wrongs in the universe. “Um, yeah, sure. How do I do that?”

“Go to and log in as me.”

Right. Of course. I’m completely familiar with this level of trust. “And your log in and password are?”

She had an impressively full inbox. There were several messages from people who had friended her on Facebook. “Who’s Mc Dots? Is that a person or a fast food menu item?”

“Oh, he’s a basketball player,” she said, laughing. “Did he friend me?”

“Yep.” Made sense, in a way that mothers worry about. You’re 5’9″ and gorgeous, basketball players will want to be your friend.

She asked what else was in there so I read her the sender names and subject lines. A couple she groaned about and said she’d read later. There was one from a law school touting the difficulties of attending said law school (difficulties I presume she will dismiss as insignificant) and the one she was looking for — more information about a voluntary “special project,” from the environmental law professor with whom she’s doing a summer internship.

I read the details to her and she said, “Mom, I need you to go to blackboard and check messages.”

Sure, no problem, seeing as how I’m still awake and all. “Okay, and where exactly is the blackboard in education these days? Will I need chalk?”

“Mom, don’t be weird.”

Got it. No weirdness. At least not on my part.

So I logged in and she walked me through the many confusing layers of blackboard until I got to the pertinent section. Where I discovered how awkward it is to read extracts of environmental case law over the phone. At midnight. I’m telling you, writing four-syllable words is entirely different from verbalizing lengthy paragraphs full of them.

Then she said, “Mom, you need to post a message from me.”

“What? No. I thought you said not to be weird.”

“No really, it’s fine. Just type what I tell you to type.”

So I did. It was painful. “Are you sure you want to use an exclamation point there? You just used one three sentences ago.”

“Mom. It’s not a thesis. Everyone talks like that on blackboard.” And so it went. Me, impersonating a college student on the intertubes.

If I can do it, anyone can. Keep that in mind.

We finished up with me informing her fellow volunteers which case she’d be examining and why. And let everyone know that, despite the lack of easy internet access, she’d send all the information about her case by early afternoon Saturday. So they could compile things and give their professor all the information he needed. So he could present it, before the Saturday evening deadline as requested, to his colleague. Who is serving as special counsel to a member of the Senate Judiciary Committee. The one holding hearings next week about the newest appointee to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Yeah. That one. I understand they’ll be looking at a lengthy and complex history of decisions, summarized for them by a variety of sources.

Have I mentioned lately how very cool I think my daughter is? Even when she calls me at midnight.


Filed under deep thoughts, parenting

9 responses to “Talking at midnight

  1. Lou

    BCB – it sounds like your daughter is on the fast-tract to a great career!! And how responsible of her even though she had to use you as a go-between.

    And how cool is it that she trusts you so implicitly to do this for her. You must be the best Mom ever!!


  2. McB

    Bragging much? 😉 Go ahead. Yes your daughter is very cool. And she seems to like and trust her mom, which isn't small potatoes. Even if you are weird.

    Antma: what you'd be if your dd had 6 legs.


  3. BCB

    Yes, shameless bragging. I can't help it sometimes. I'm still convinced both my kids are who they are not because of my influence, but in spite of it. Seriously, those teenage years were exhausting. For all of us.

    As for trust, I wouldn't be surprised if she's already changed her password.

    But how thrilling for her, to be a small part of history in the making. And very cool of her professor to trust them to give valuable input to the process. Maybe our system isn't as broken as it seems.


  4. Scope Dope Cherrybomb

    System probably isn't as broken as it seems. Great that your daughter had input. Smart of the powers that be to give young students input as they then might want to be more involved in the processes.

    Personally I don't think there is anything wrong with being a proud mother. Did I ever tell you about my daughter and son? Yeah, CMS I know. Enough already.

    bugeolym-the name of the environmental case before the Senate hearing.


  5. GatorPerson

    Ask, DD. Your wish is my command. Always and forever. Mothers are such patsies when it comes to our precious children.


  6. Merry

    What is Blackboard and is it something that I should throw eggs at?

    poock – sound of an egg hitting a blackboard, which afterwards is said to be poockmarked.


  7. Slave Driver

    Moms are full of awesomesauce!

    (Not me, I'm a mean and crappy mom, hell bent on sucking every ounce of fun out of my kids existence. But my kid is only 15, so wait and few years and we'll check back on my status.)
    My mom, during a stressful and wifi free event, booked airline tickets for my Hubs & said teen from Jackson Hole to St. Louis. She was my own personal Travelocity. Oh and did I mention that since I know Mom is usually planted in front of her notepad I call and have her Google stuff for me while I'm driving?
    Like I said, full of awesomesauce.

    Rosesse= A possee of Florists


  8. Anonymous

    @slave driver Oh thank you God and Sunny Jesus!! I'm not the only one out there.

    (Not me, I'm a mean and crappy mom, hell bent on sucking every ounce of fun out of my kids existence. But my kid is only 15, so wait and few years and we'll check back on my status.) <—- is me at least for the past week.



  9. orangehands

    That is extremely cool BCB. And being such an amazing person, I would recognize it. 🙂