I think there should be a Hurricane Aubrey. I think it would probably be one of the most delightful, yet devastating, storms yet. Maybe I'm biased, but I felt like a hurricane today, and to be honest, I didn't really accomplish that much. There was no destruction, no upheaval, and (thankfully) no death. I think I probably would suck as a hurricane. Haha, I'm making myself laugh. I must be exhausted.
It's hard to do much when you have a "sick" kid at home who is obviously not sick enough to act sick, but sick enough to stay home, thus commanding your attention when you have other things that are due...like papers. I know, it's like talking to a wall. My own eyes are glazing over just thinking about it.
Around noon, B's stepmom called and said she was finished with her appointment, and did I want her to take B to the doctor for his follow-up so I could work on my mountain of homework? Yes, please. She even volunteered to keep him overnight so I could get it all done. It's like Christmas... She called after the appointment to say the doctor had ordered yet another medication, and we scheduled an appointment for the allergist for Tuesday morning. Until then, B is supposed to remain a couch potato.
My weekend is going to be SUPER fun. Thankfully, I've been doing tons of squats, so I'm fairly confident that I'll be able to hold myself in the fetal position all weekend without getting a cramp.
N got home not long after she called, and was both thrilled and disappointed to find that B was away for the evening. Well, he was mostly thrilled and only slightly disappointed because he didn't have anyone to play video games with. Smart boy, that N...he started our conversation off by telling me he got his iPod confiscated by his teacher. He THEN proceeded to tell me about how he thought it was ridiculous that she could do that..."She's not my mom or anything." No, darlin', she sure isn't, but she's the boss at school, and I'm on her side.
He called me a traitor, and it took all my self control to not laugh at him.
We both worked on homework: he powered through a Scholastic News, and I powered through a one page paper. We took a break for dinner, and then he showered while I powered through 5 discussion boards, 4 assignments, and 3 responses to other discussion boards.
He went to bed. I took a bubble bath.
Can you tell I'm pretty much worded out for the evening?
Now I have my Kindle, some peppermint tea, and my eyelids are getting very heavy behind my glasses. I took out my contacts at 5:00 when my eyes started getting all cross-ish.
Bring on Friday! Oh, wait...don't. I have to keep B still.
Ugh.
Aubs
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
'Roid Rage
B has been home, doing his best impression of resting, since Monday at 10:00. After determining that his allergies/asthma were in overdrive, the doctor said making him a couch potato for a few days would help him get back to where he needed to be.
The doctor obviously does not know B at all. She said he absolutely needed a steroid this time, simply because of the degree of inflammation and swelling in his nasal passages, and as much as we (collectively as a three parent system) hate steroids, we agreed. B sucks when he takes steroids. It's a battle that's been raging since he was 1 and we first discovered he was allergic to, well...everything. I stopped giving him steroids every time they were prescribed just because I couldn't deal with the beast he turned into while he was on them, and while they were working their way out of his system.
I'm sure everyone has their difficulties with steroids...but my kid? He turns into the spawn of Satan. I'm not exaggerating. He's angry, and then in the next moment, he's a sobbing mess on the floor because somebody looked at him wrong. He's hungry, and then, well...he's always hungry, so that doesn't really count, but he eats constantly. Again, that's pretty normal actually, now that I think about it.
Whatever. He's a real pain in the rear. I'm the kind of mom who is loving and compassionate and quick to do whatever to help her kids get better when they're sick. Give me a fever, the flu, strep...hell, give me vomit, and I'll take care of it without batting an eye, although I will probably dry heave a little. I draw the line at steroids. Never have I wanted to...well, I'll let you use your imagination, but you'll have to get creative 'cause my imagination is pretty dang active.
Hahahahaha, if you only knew what I was thinking at this exact moment.
Anyway, B was so excited to see his brother this afternoon, that he asked (literally) every 5 minutes if it was 3:08 yet. When N finally walked in the door, they were thrilled to see each other for a minute, and then N was over it. B did the majority of his make-up work, N did his homework, and then I let them loose on Halo while I cleaned up a little and talked to Stella, updating her on my latest dilemmas in life.
It's never a dull moment around here, except for when it is...like, all the time.
B announced that it was time for dinner, and that he was going to cook. Interested to see what he would come up with, I followed him into the kitchen, and then around in circles with a paper plate as he determined what Chef B would make himself for dinner. Hey, if they volunteer, I'm NOT going to turn down the help. (Side note: If they would volunteer to pick up after themselves, say...laundry for example, that would be amazing. Stinky boy socks are not my favorite.) He opted for a chicken corn dog, sour cream & onion Pringles, a bottle of water, an applesauce, and a yogurt. I was somewhat impressed with his choices. N went the same route, with a few variations, and an addition of strawberries to the applesauce and yogurt.
See? Our lives are so very fascinating.
Oh, I also superglued my fingers today. That was fun. The extreme heat here in the Great State caused the coating on my door handle to buckle and crack, so I decided I would fix it myself. I'm very "take charge" like that...or maybe I was just tired of getting papercut-esque wounds on my left hand. That's probably more likely, although I am pretty "take charge" now that I think about it. Add that to my list of intimidating factors.
Superglue: Okay, so I shoved the glue in there, and pushed the coating back on to seal it, and that's when I realized there was leakage and my fingers were starting to tingle. Being the genius that I am, I grabbed a piece of paper to hold it down. Needless to say, there are now little paper pieces stuck to my door handle, but I am not backing down from this battle. My car is NOT that old. It's a 2010 for Pete's sake. (Side note: Who is Pete? I want to know...I don't know any Pete's, but I sure do a lot of things for his sake. I feel like there should at least be a bit of an introduction.)
I thought about calling the dealership to ask them about my handle, but that would require going there and they annoy me...even though I DO need an oil change. I just don't want to wait there for 5 hours while they do it. I'm a busy girl, and I'll be carting a 7 year-old around with me tomorrow.
What else...there's not a lot to report. My boys still don't get along, so the excitement of being able to play with each other disappears pretty quickly and then one (or both) of them ask if B can go back to his dad's house, and I yell at them that they need to learn how to get along...'cause they're going to be best friends someday, damn it.
It still hasn't sunk in, but my face hasn't turned blue yet, so I figure I still have time.
Either that, or I'll become a Smurf.
Aubs
The doctor obviously does not know B at all. She said he absolutely needed a steroid this time, simply because of the degree of inflammation and swelling in his nasal passages, and as much as we (collectively as a three parent system) hate steroids, we agreed. B sucks when he takes steroids. It's a battle that's been raging since he was 1 and we first discovered he was allergic to, well...everything. I stopped giving him steroids every time they were prescribed just because I couldn't deal with the beast he turned into while he was on them, and while they were working their way out of his system.
I'm sure everyone has their difficulties with steroids...but my kid? He turns into the spawn of Satan. I'm not exaggerating. He's angry, and then in the next moment, he's a sobbing mess on the floor because somebody looked at him wrong. He's hungry, and then, well...he's always hungry, so that doesn't really count, but he eats constantly. Again, that's pretty normal actually, now that I think about it.
Whatever. He's a real pain in the rear. I'm the kind of mom who is loving and compassionate and quick to do whatever to help her kids get better when they're sick. Give me a fever, the flu, strep...hell, give me vomit, and I'll take care of it without batting an eye, although I will probably dry heave a little. I draw the line at steroids. Never have I wanted to...well, I'll let you use your imagination, but you'll have to get creative 'cause my imagination is pretty dang active.
Hahahahaha, if you only knew what I was thinking at this exact moment.
Anyway, B was so excited to see his brother this afternoon, that he asked (literally) every 5 minutes if it was 3:08 yet. When N finally walked in the door, they were thrilled to see each other for a minute, and then N was over it. B did the majority of his make-up work, N did his homework, and then I let them loose on Halo while I cleaned up a little and talked to Stella, updating her on my latest dilemmas in life.
It's never a dull moment around here, except for when it is...like, all the time.
B announced that it was time for dinner, and that he was going to cook. Interested to see what he would come up with, I followed him into the kitchen, and then around in circles with a paper plate as he determined what Chef B would make himself for dinner. Hey, if they volunteer, I'm NOT going to turn down the help. (Side note: If they would volunteer to pick up after themselves, say...laundry for example, that would be amazing. Stinky boy socks are not my favorite.) He opted for a chicken corn dog, sour cream & onion Pringles, a bottle of water, an applesauce, and a yogurt. I was somewhat impressed with his choices. N went the same route, with a few variations, and an addition of strawberries to the applesauce and yogurt.
See? Our lives are so very fascinating.
Oh, I also superglued my fingers today. That was fun. The extreme heat here in the Great State caused the coating on my door handle to buckle and crack, so I decided I would fix it myself. I'm very "take charge" like that...or maybe I was just tired of getting papercut-esque wounds on my left hand. That's probably more likely, although I am pretty "take charge" now that I think about it. Add that to my list of intimidating factors.
Superglue: Okay, so I shoved the glue in there, and pushed the coating back on to seal it, and that's when I realized there was leakage and my fingers were starting to tingle. Being the genius that I am, I grabbed a piece of paper to hold it down. Needless to say, there are now little paper pieces stuck to my door handle, but I am not backing down from this battle. My car is NOT that old. It's a 2010 for Pete's sake. (Side note: Who is Pete? I want to know...I don't know any Pete's, but I sure do a lot of things for his sake. I feel like there should at least be a bit of an introduction.)
I thought about calling the dealership to ask them about my handle, but that would require going there and they annoy me...even though I DO need an oil change. I just don't want to wait there for 5 hours while they do it. I'm a busy girl, and I'll be carting a 7 year-old around with me tomorrow.
What else...there's not a lot to report. My boys still don't get along, so the excitement of being able to play with each other disappears pretty quickly and then one (or both) of them ask if B can go back to his dad's house, and I yell at them that they need to learn how to get along...'cause they're going to be best friends someday, damn it.
It still hasn't sunk in, but my face hasn't turned blue yet, so I figure I still have time.
Either that, or I'll become a Smurf.
Aubs
Challenge...complete!
So, I started this squat challenge that one of my friends was tagged in on Facebook because I wanted to see if I could do it. It was a steady increase of squats over 31 days, and the visual was one of the reasons why I wanted to try it. Who wouldn't be intrigued by this image?
Y'all, I was totally skeptical at first. My legs felt really noodle-ish for the first week, but then it got easier. The "rest" days were hard because I found myself wanting to skip them and continue...and yesterday, I finished the challenge! I really wish I had taken a "before" picture, but I'm using my "after" picture as the new "before" picture because I started it again today. I think I might be obsessed. So, here's my "after" and you'll have to use your imagination as to what the "before" might have looked like...and I'll be right there with you, imaginating away.
I decided to change it up a little bit and do some jump squats today. I bet my neighbors downstairs totally love me to pieces since I did them at approximately 10:45 this evening.
Get over it, y'all. It's almost swimsuit season, and I have a long way to go!
Right as N got off the bus this afternoon, the floodgates opened and I had an excuse to use my sock monkey umbrella when I dragged him to Target. I haven't been to Target in a couple of weeks. It has to be some sort of record, I swear. I got everything on my list (and a few things that weren't on it) but I didn't get toothpaste. I think I might've subconsciously done that on purpose so that I can return tomorrow, but I can't be certain.
I called the boys' school today to let them know that B won't be back at school until Friday, and the woman who answered the phone was drilling me for information. Was he contagious? Was it the flu? Strep? No, all allergy/asthma related, and he won't be back until Friday. I gave his name and class, and (when she remembered him leaving sounding like a seal yesterday) said he was feeling much better but needed to stay at home and be still and rest as much as possible.
Do you know what she did? She laughed. Hysterically. Then she told me, "Good luck with that one." in her delightful British accent. I laughed right along with her, because it's a funny mental image. I emailed his teacher the same general message, and got a reply that also wished me luck with keeping him quiet and still.
B. He makes an impression wherever he goes. We're so lucky!
N had the hiccups for most of the afternoon, so I was trying to scare him so they would go away. He was sitting next to me in the car, and all of a sudden, I roared at him. He jumped in his seat, his eyes bugged, and as we both started laughing, he began hiccuping at an alarming rate. I'm pretty sure I made it worse, but it was so funny!
As we pulled into our apartment complex, I griped that "my spot" had been taken since it was raining...and a Tuesday afternoon. People are a little crazy when it comes to the close parking spots. I made a comment about how I was glad that they were moving soon (Their apartment is available for lease if anyone needs a 2/2 just like mine!) and N said, "Man, Mom...me too! They're so loud and always banging on the wall. So when they're banging around in there, I bang right back on the wall three times." I stared at him and then burst out laughing. "What, Mom? Is it really that funny?"
Yep. 'Cause I do the same thing to them on my side of the apartment. It's still funny now. And it cements that he really is my kid, even though we look nothing alike. No crazy baby trades in the hospital, I guess.
What a relief...and a bummer. 'Cause I'm pretty sure we could've made a really good Lifetime movie out of that one.
We ate some dinner, enjoyed what was left of the quiet since the B-beast comes home tomorrow around lunchtime, and N played some Halo while I talked to my dad. We're so exciting, I know. After N went to bed, my phone rang, and I didn't recognize the number, so I answered rather tentatively.
It was N's math teacher. I had emailed her over the dreaded subject of fractions. I loathe math. Let me just make that abundantly clear. N gets it, but he has trouble with the steps, mostly because I think he's still playing catch-up from the sub par school last year. She said she wanted to call, rather than email so she could also talk about her concerns without me misconstruing what she was saying.
Once again, can I just say how happy I am to be in a great school district?
Anyway, we discussed different ideas and theories, and I told her I'd drop N off early in the morning so they could go through the steps one on one. And after I hung up, I realized N was still awake, so I called him in to the living room to discuss the my conversation with her.
We'll see how that goes.
While I was on the phone, my phone started beeping like crazy...so when I looked at it, I was expecting to see a text message or two from people I'd been texting earlier, but what I found was a text message from a friend I haven't seen in 20 years (It hurts to type that) or talked to in about 4-5 years.
Yay! I called his sister, and said, "Um, your brother's texting me? Explain?" and she just laughed. Fun times. We discussed wedding preparations (hers, not mine...just want to be clear) and went on about our respective business.
Long story short, I get to see my Cree Cree next week, and I couldn't be more excited! It should be quite the reunion...one I wasn't expecting until the wedding in June, but am happy to move up to February!
Too bad Crystal Pepsi can no longer be found...'cause that would pretty much seal the deal on a perfect reunion!
Aubs
Y'all, I was totally skeptical at first. My legs felt really noodle-ish for the first week, but then it got easier. The "rest" days were hard because I found myself wanting to skip them and continue...and yesterday, I finished the challenge! I really wish I had taken a "before" picture, but I'm using my "after" picture as the new "before" picture because I started it again today. I think I might be obsessed. So, here's my "after" and you'll have to use your imagination as to what the "before" might have looked like...and I'll be right there with you, imaginating away.
I decided to change it up a little bit and do some jump squats today. I bet my neighbors downstairs totally love me to pieces since I did them at approximately 10:45 this evening.
Get over it, y'all. It's almost swimsuit season, and I have a long way to go!
Right as N got off the bus this afternoon, the floodgates opened and I had an excuse to use my sock monkey umbrella when I dragged him to Target. I haven't been to Target in a couple of weeks. It has to be some sort of record, I swear. I got everything on my list (and a few things that weren't on it) but I didn't get toothpaste. I think I might've subconsciously done that on purpose so that I can return tomorrow, but I can't be certain.
I called the boys' school today to let them know that B won't be back at school until Friday, and the woman who answered the phone was drilling me for information. Was he contagious? Was it the flu? Strep? No, all allergy/asthma related, and he won't be back until Friday. I gave his name and class, and (when she remembered him leaving sounding like a seal yesterday) said he was feeling much better but needed to stay at home and be still and rest as much as possible.
Do you know what she did? She laughed. Hysterically. Then she told me, "Good luck with that one." in her delightful British accent. I laughed right along with her, because it's a funny mental image. I emailed his teacher the same general message, and got a reply that also wished me luck with keeping him quiet and still.
B. He makes an impression wherever he goes. We're so lucky!
N had the hiccups for most of the afternoon, so I was trying to scare him so they would go away. He was sitting next to me in the car, and all of a sudden, I roared at him. He jumped in his seat, his eyes bugged, and as we both started laughing, he began hiccuping at an alarming rate. I'm pretty sure I made it worse, but it was so funny!
As we pulled into our apartment complex, I griped that "my spot" had been taken since it was raining...and a Tuesday afternoon. People are a little crazy when it comes to the close parking spots. I made a comment about how I was glad that they were moving soon (Their apartment is available for lease if anyone needs a 2/2 just like mine!) and N said, "Man, Mom...me too! They're so loud and always banging on the wall. So when they're banging around in there, I bang right back on the wall three times." I stared at him and then burst out laughing. "What, Mom? Is it really that funny?"
Yep. 'Cause I do the same thing to them on my side of the apartment. It's still funny now. And it cements that he really is my kid, even though we look nothing alike. No crazy baby trades in the hospital, I guess.
What a relief...and a bummer. 'Cause I'm pretty sure we could've made a really good Lifetime movie out of that one.
We ate some dinner, enjoyed what was left of the quiet since the B-beast comes home tomorrow around lunchtime, and N played some Halo while I talked to my dad. We're so exciting, I know. After N went to bed, my phone rang, and I didn't recognize the number, so I answered rather tentatively.
It was N's math teacher. I had emailed her over the dreaded subject of fractions. I loathe math. Let me just make that abundantly clear. N gets it, but he has trouble with the steps, mostly because I think he's still playing catch-up from the sub par school last year. She said she wanted to call, rather than email so she could also talk about her concerns without me misconstruing what she was saying.
Once again, can I just say how happy I am to be in a great school district?
Anyway, we discussed different ideas and theories, and I told her I'd drop N off early in the morning so they could go through the steps one on one. And after I hung up, I realized N was still awake, so I called him in to the living room to discuss the my conversation with her.
We'll see how that goes.
While I was on the phone, my phone started beeping like crazy...so when I looked at it, I was expecting to see a text message or two from people I'd been texting earlier, but what I found was a text message from a friend I haven't seen in 20 years (It hurts to type that) or talked to in about 4-5 years.
Yay! I called his sister, and said, "Um, your brother's texting me? Explain?" and she just laughed. Fun times. We discussed wedding preparations (hers, not mine...just want to be clear) and went on about our respective business.
Long story short, I get to see my Cree Cree next week, and I couldn't be more excited! It should be quite the reunion...one I wasn't expecting until the wedding in June, but am happy to move up to February!
Too bad Crystal Pepsi can no longer be found...'cause that would pretty much seal the deal on a perfect reunion!
Aubs
Monday, January 28, 2013
Speechless
You can probably guess that "speechless" is not a word often associated with me, but tonight, I was speechless. I was texting like a crazy person, but was incapable of speaking. It might be considered a sign of the apocalypse.
But, don't quote me on that.
Today was N's next to last basketball practice, and I really didn't want to go. I won't lie. I even gave him the option: basketball practice or going to Target. Surprise, surprise, he picked practice. Traitor. Actually, though, I'm really glad we went because I would've never believed what I'm about to say unless I'd heard it with my own precious little ears.
You'd think, coming off of a win on Saturday, that the coach would be congratulatory or praise them a little for making progress. Right? Ha. No way. He started talking to them about when they're shooting free throws, and he said (direct quote, mind you), "When you're lined up for free throws, he (the ref) can't watch all of you at the same time, so I want you to start moving for the rebound before the ball hits the rim." My jaw dropped, and one of the kids yelled, "You aren't supposed to move before the ball hits the rim." and he said, "I know that. I don't care. I'm the coach for a reason."
You're the coach because nobody else signed up to do it...I was torn: do I laugh because he's an obvious moron and seemingly can't help it, or do I punch him in the face as I drag N out of practice because he's not playing for a cheater? It gets better...the assistant coach (he's a yeller...and a spitter) pulls N aside and starts telling him he needs to shoot more and get the ball more. N, who was "blessed" with the temper of both his mother AND father, starts to go off saying, "I would if your son would pass the ball sometimes." I'm pretty sure my snort was audible. The truth hurts, dude. After that, they had a water break, and I told N, "I don't care what he says to you, just acknowledge him, say you understand, and then you don't have to do it...not if you think/know it's wrong. But you still need to be respectful because he's an adult, even if he is a moron." See? Mom of the Year is totally within my reach!
At this point, the coach was getting frustrated because the boys weren't running the drill the way he was telling them to, which is understandable because he kept changing what he wanted them to do, mid-drill, and NOT saying anything about it. SO, he sat them all down and started giving them a speech, saying, "If you guys don't start winning, I'm going to feel like a failure, and that's on you because I'm giving you the tools you need to win. You're just not listening or paying attention."
Jaw drop number 2. And it just keeps getting better...They start calling out two kids who have obviously never really played basketball before. Maybe it's a cultural thing, or maybe they just never expressed interest before, but these two boys struggle. They struggle, but they don't give up. And the coaches? They call them out every single time they're on the court. If it had been my kid, I would've gone off.
I considered going off just on principle. I'm due for a good public rant. One of the kids gets obviously flustered when he has the ball and forgets to dribble. It takes practice, I get it. Coach of the Year? Not so much. "Can you even dribble the ball? Stop everyone. We're going to watch __________ dribble the ball, just to make sure he can do it."
What. The. Hell.
Thankfully, practice was nearly over at this point, because I was just shaking my head in dismay...but to end the evening, the assistant coach left the boys with some words of wisdom.
"The guy who has the ball has the right of way, like when you're driving a car, you know? Like when you're exiting the highway, you have to yield on the exit ramp to the cars that are on the access road..."
What? I caught the coach's eye on that one, and I couldn't help myself. "Um, excuse me. 1. They're 10. They know nothing about driving a car, so I think that's a poor analogy. 2. The access road yields to the exit ramp, not the other way around."
I received a round of applause from the guy who was there to lock up the school after we left, and from my own child. The "head coach" also snorted and agreed.
Probably, basketball won't be an option unless I know ahead of time who the coach will be and I approve. Read: Unless he ends up with his baseball coach from last fall, it will only happen if his dad coaches, I coach, or someone else I know (and trust) coaches. Read: It's probably not happening.
In other news, I got a call from the school nurse today to come get B at 10:00. He sounded seal-like and croupy, so after a solid hour of steam, albuterol nebulizer treatments, vaporub, and barking like a seal, he was calmed down enough to eat. Like a horse. He sat as still as possible for B, watched part of a movie, and rolled all over me. This is the part where I explain that I prayed to God it wasn't strep or anything contagious, as he is notorious for sharing his germs.
His stepmom came to get him to take him to the doctor, since we were unsure if he was contagious and/or if N would be exposed to something that he could catch. A normal person's nasal cavity is supposed to be pinkish, maybe a little red if they're fighting an infection. B, with his crazy allergies and asthma, was rocking a lavender nasal cavity. He has to spend the next three days at home, being as still and quiet as possible (go ahead and start laughing now) while taking a steroid. This is going to be quite the week.
So, if you see me or get a call from me where you don't understand what I'm saying or it doesn't make any sense, have no fear. I've just gone off the deep end...or maybe I've made a super long straw to reach down to the very bottom of my Sailor Jerry bottle.
For now, though, I have to figure out exactly what I'm going to say when I call tomorrow to turn N's coach in because, all Coppell politics aside, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason for promoting cheating during a 10 year-old's rec league basketball games.
Warpath much?
Aubs
But, don't quote me on that.
Today was N's next to last basketball practice, and I really didn't want to go. I won't lie. I even gave him the option: basketball practice or going to Target. Surprise, surprise, he picked practice. Traitor. Actually, though, I'm really glad we went because I would've never believed what I'm about to say unless I'd heard it with my own precious little ears.
You'd think, coming off of a win on Saturday, that the coach would be congratulatory or praise them a little for making progress. Right? Ha. No way. He started talking to them about when they're shooting free throws, and he said (direct quote, mind you), "When you're lined up for free throws, he (the ref) can't watch all of you at the same time, so I want you to start moving for the rebound before the ball hits the rim." My jaw dropped, and one of the kids yelled, "You aren't supposed to move before the ball hits the rim." and he said, "I know that. I don't care. I'm the coach for a reason."
You're the coach because nobody else signed up to do it...I was torn: do I laugh because he's an obvious moron and seemingly can't help it, or do I punch him in the face as I drag N out of practice because he's not playing for a cheater? It gets better...the assistant coach (he's a yeller...and a spitter) pulls N aside and starts telling him he needs to shoot more and get the ball more. N, who was "blessed" with the temper of both his mother AND father, starts to go off saying, "I would if your son would pass the ball sometimes." I'm pretty sure my snort was audible. The truth hurts, dude. After that, they had a water break, and I told N, "I don't care what he says to you, just acknowledge him, say you understand, and then you don't have to do it...not if you think/know it's wrong. But you still need to be respectful because he's an adult, even if he is a moron." See? Mom of the Year is totally within my reach!
At this point, the coach was getting frustrated because the boys weren't running the drill the way he was telling them to, which is understandable because he kept changing what he wanted them to do, mid-drill, and NOT saying anything about it. SO, he sat them all down and started giving them a speech, saying, "If you guys don't start winning, I'm going to feel like a failure, and that's on you because I'm giving you the tools you need to win. You're just not listening or paying attention."
Jaw drop number 2. And it just keeps getting better...They start calling out two kids who have obviously never really played basketball before. Maybe it's a cultural thing, or maybe they just never expressed interest before, but these two boys struggle. They struggle, but they don't give up. And the coaches? They call them out every single time they're on the court. If it had been my kid, I would've gone off.
I considered going off just on principle. I'm due for a good public rant. One of the kids gets obviously flustered when he has the ball and forgets to dribble. It takes practice, I get it. Coach of the Year? Not so much. "Can you even dribble the ball? Stop everyone. We're going to watch __________ dribble the ball, just to make sure he can do it."
What. The. Hell.
Thankfully, practice was nearly over at this point, because I was just shaking my head in dismay...but to end the evening, the assistant coach left the boys with some words of wisdom.
"The guy who has the ball has the right of way, like when you're driving a car, you know? Like when you're exiting the highway, you have to yield on the exit ramp to the cars that are on the access road..."
What? I caught the coach's eye on that one, and I couldn't help myself. "Um, excuse me. 1. They're 10. They know nothing about driving a car, so I think that's a poor analogy. 2. The access road yields to the exit ramp, not the other way around."
I received a round of applause from the guy who was there to lock up the school after we left, and from my own child. The "head coach" also snorted and agreed.
Probably, basketball won't be an option unless I know ahead of time who the coach will be and I approve. Read: Unless he ends up with his baseball coach from last fall, it will only happen if his dad coaches, I coach, or someone else I know (and trust) coaches. Read: It's probably not happening.
In other news, I got a call from the school nurse today to come get B at 10:00. He sounded seal-like and croupy, so after a solid hour of steam, albuterol nebulizer treatments, vaporub, and barking like a seal, he was calmed down enough to eat. Like a horse. He sat as still as possible for B, watched part of a movie, and rolled all over me. This is the part where I explain that I prayed to God it wasn't strep or anything contagious, as he is notorious for sharing his germs.
His stepmom came to get him to take him to the doctor, since we were unsure if he was contagious and/or if N would be exposed to something that he could catch. A normal person's nasal cavity is supposed to be pinkish, maybe a little red if they're fighting an infection. B, with his crazy allergies and asthma, was rocking a lavender nasal cavity. He has to spend the next three days at home, being as still and quiet as possible (go ahead and start laughing now) while taking a steroid. This is going to be quite the week.
So, if you see me or get a call from me where you don't understand what I'm saying or it doesn't make any sense, have no fear. I've just gone off the deep end...or maybe I've made a super long straw to reach down to the very bottom of my Sailor Jerry bottle.
For now, though, I have to figure out exactly what I'm going to say when I call tomorrow to turn N's coach in because, all Coppell politics aside, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason for promoting cheating during a 10 year-old's rec league basketball games.
Warpath much?
Aubs
Sunday Funday
Ha, that's a little misleading. Since I didn't fall asleep until almost 6 this morning, and was roused from my sleep a few hours later by a knock on the front door, signaling that N was home, I'd say it was anything but fun. I'm so grateful that he is 10 and fairly self-sufficient. He can pour milk for cereal, make a sandwich, entertain himself...whatever he needs to do, within reason, usually with minimal complaint.
I let him play Halo for a while, then sent him off to read the chapters that are due on Tuesday for his literary circle. I don't know what book it is off the top of my head, but he says it's really bizarre. "Mom, the story takes place in Canada, so I thought there would be a lot of hockey...but there isn't so this book kind of sucks. Where are the sports?"
I realize what he deems "bizarre" and what the book actually is, are probably two different things entirely, but hey. At least he's reading...without complaint. I'll take it.
He read half of his assignment, played a little, and then we looked at baseball gear online. He still really wants to catch, so he had his dad take him to look at gear yesterday, and has decided that I should go ahead and start purchasing the gear for him. He's so optimistic. I'm trying to hold out and see how the tryouts go first, but YOU try explaining that to a kid.
It's not easy.
Right around that time, I realized the office was about to close, and I had a package waiting...so I grabbed the first pair of pants I could find, and went over to the office. When I walked in, a couple was sitting at one of the leasing desks, talking to each other while the agent was pulling some forms. When I walked in, the couple stopped talking, the man said, "Damn" (audibly) under his breath, and in the same split second, his wife smacked him upside the head.
I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. And as my laughter died down, I said, "Um, I just need my package..." and the leasing agent started rolling. I don't know why I still think it's funny, hours later, but I'm still cracking up.
I made a list of all the things I need to do this semester, as well as a list of all of the things I want to do. I already marked one of the "want to do" items off my list. Let's just say...any free time I have between now and mid-May will be brief and fleeting. There's so much to do, in life, with the boys, and especially with school. It's going to be a busy semester...and I'm still waiting for one of my books to get here.
I have a deadline on Friday, so it better hurry up! In other news, my friend Michelle posted a bad lip reading video of footage from "The Hunger Games" and N and I watched it the other day. Actually, I watched it, and was laughing so hard, I was crying. N said whatever I was watching couldn't be that funny, so I had him watch it, too.
I've never heard him laugh that hard...and yesterday, before his basketball game, I said something to him that he didn't like, so he repeated one of the bad lip reading lines, and we both laughed so hard we couldn't breathe.
Our time where it's just the two of us is so precious. I know he won't always want to be around me; he kind of goes back and forth on it now, but he was sad when I told him B would be back on Tuesday. It was a short visit with his dad...which means a short recovery week for N.
One day, they're going to love each other and be best friends...right?
Aubs
I let him play Halo for a while, then sent him off to read the chapters that are due on Tuesday for his literary circle. I don't know what book it is off the top of my head, but he says it's really bizarre. "Mom, the story takes place in Canada, so I thought there would be a lot of hockey...but there isn't so this book kind of sucks. Where are the sports?"
I realize what he deems "bizarre" and what the book actually is, are probably two different things entirely, but hey. At least he's reading...without complaint. I'll take it.
He read half of his assignment, played a little, and then we looked at baseball gear online. He still really wants to catch, so he had his dad take him to look at gear yesterday, and has decided that I should go ahead and start purchasing the gear for him. He's so optimistic. I'm trying to hold out and see how the tryouts go first, but YOU try explaining that to a kid.
It's not easy.
Right around that time, I realized the office was about to close, and I had a package waiting...so I grabbed the first pair of pants I could find, and went over to the office. When I walked in, a couple was sitting at one of the leasing desks, talking to each other while the agent was pulling some forms. When I walked in, the couple stopped talking, the man said, "Damn" (audibly) under his breath, and in the same split second, his wife smacked him upside the head.
I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. And as my laughter died down, I said, "Um, I just need my package..." and the leasing agent started rolling. I don't know why I still think it's funny, hours later, but I'm still cracking up.
I made a list of all the things I need to do this semester, as well as a list of all of the things I want to do. I already marked one of the "want to do" items off my list. Let's just say...any free time I have between now and mid-May will be brief and fleeting. There's so much to do, in life, with the boys, and especially with school. It's going to be a busy semester...and I'm still waiting for one of my books to get here.
I have a deadline on Friday, so it better hurry up! In other news, my friend Michelle posted a bad lip reading video of footage from "The Hunger Games" and N and I watched it the other day. Actually, I watched it, and was laughing so hard, I was crying. N said whatever I was watching couldn't be that funny, so I had him watch it, too.
I've never heard him laugh that hard...and yesterday, before his basketball game, I said something to him that he didn't like, so he repeated one of the bad lip reading lines, and we both laughed so hard we couldn't breathe.
Our time where it's just the two of us is so precious. I know he won't always want to be around me; he kind of goes back and forth on it now, but he was sad when I told him B would be back on Tuesday. It was a short visit with his dad...which means a short recovery week for N.
One day, they're going to love each other and be best friends...right?
Aubs
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Reprieve from mom duties!
This morning, after a few hours of sleep, I dragged N out of bed for his basketball game. He didn't want to go, and I almost let him skip, but I changed my mind while he griped about basketball shorts and I drank a cup of coffee at an alarming speed. When we got there, he started like he does every week, but someone had turned on the heat before the game, so it was much more tolerable.
As I sat there, watching the game/Facebooking my gripes, I looked over at the score table, and saw someone that seemed familiar. A man and his kid came in, obviously for the next game, and sat in front of me. The dad was staring at the score table just as intently...and then said, "Do you know who that is?!" I jumped in on that conversation, telling him he looked way familiar to me, too.
Marco Rivera, former offensive lineman for the Dallas Cowboys, kept score for our game today. His kid plays on the opposing team...and gave N's team their first win of the season! A few of his teammates still had issues with not passing, but over all, they did better as a team.
After the game, N and I celebrated the fact that there are only two games to go until the season is over, and the following weekend is baseball! He's still really wanting catcher's gear, so I told him that we would look into it after the tryouts were over. Who knows? His team may already have a catcher.
He left for his dad's after that, and I attempted (unsuccessfully) to take a nap. I gave up, and got ready to go out with one of my most favorite girlfriends EVER. Michelle and I were entirely past due for a girl's night out. We had originally thought karaoke, but ended up with sangria, Mexican food, and a movie.
So, we went to see Gangster Squad...you know, 'cause we're so incredibly "gangsta" in real life. Mostly, it has everything to do with Ryan Gosling being nice to look at, but whatever works. I'm pretty sure that movie was supposed to be serious and bloody and violent, however, Michelle and I laughed more than our fair share during that movie. We were also the only girls in the theater without men with us, which made it that much funnier.
We made quite a list of movies we intend to watch, which is something we've done before...we just never actually made it happen. This time? It's so happening! We already have a Valentine's week date in the works! I so love my girl time with her...it's so fun to catch up, and there's always a ton of laughter.
We both need it. All the time.
And we need to do it more often. Moms get a break from time to time, or at least they should...
Aubs
As I sat there, watching the game/Facebooking my gripes, I looked over at the score table, and saw someone that seemed familiar. A man and his kid came in, obviously for the next game, and sat in front of me. The dad was staring at the score table just as intently...and then said, "Do you know who that is?!" I jumped in on that conversation, telling him he looked way familiar to me, too.
Marco Rivera, former offensive lineman for the Dallas Cowboys, kept score for our game today. His kid plays on the opposing team...and gave N's team their first win of the season! A few of his teammates still had issues with not passing, but over all, they did better as a team.
After the game, N and I celebrated the fact that there are only two games to go until the season is over, and the following weekend is baseball! He's still really wanting catcher's gear, so I told him that we would look into it after the tryouts were over. Who knows? His team may already have a catcher.
He left for his dad's after that, and I attempted (unsuccessfully) to take a nap. I gave up, and got ready to go out with one of my most favorite girlfriends EVER. Michelle and I were entirely past due for a girl's night out. We had originally thought karaoke, but ended up with sangria, Mexican food, and a movie.
So, we went to see Gangster Squad...you know, 'cause we're so incredibly "gangsta" in real life. Mostly, it has everything to do with Ryan Gosling being nice to look at, but whatever works. I'm pretty sure that movie was supposed to be serious and bloody and violent, however, Michelle and I laughed more than our fair share during that movie. We were also the only girls in the theater without men with us, which made it that much funnier.
We made quite a list of movies we intend to watch, which is something we've done before...we just never actually made it happen. This time? It's so happening! We already have a Valentine's week date in the works! I so love my girl time with her...it's so fun to catch up, and there's always a ton of laughter.
We both need it. All the time.
And we need to do it more often. Moms get a break from time to time, or at least they should...
Aubs
Friday, January 25, 2013
When you get a glimpse of what life COULD be like...
After determining that random puking last night was food related and not illness related, I sent N to school and set to work on getting my laptop fixed.
Just a warning...this post will be incredibly boring. I'm just not that exciting this week. Or today.
After finally getting Geek Squad connected remotely to my laptop, I let them do their job...for 4.5 hours. Apparently, when your anti-virus software is corrupted, it causes a problem. Who knew? With my uncanny knack for ruining electronics, I'm pretty sure purchasing two years of Geek Squad protection when I bought my most recent laptop was a good idea.
I've used it three times. It's totally paid for itself. Thanks to Ryan L. and Ken D., I have new anti-virus software and a ton of updates that I probably needed. I swear, I'm not completely idiotic when it comes to computers and electronical things, but I might've literally typed, "Why does the little taskbar thingy keep covering up my chat windows? 'Cause that's really annoying."
Obviously, I have my priorities exactly the way they should be.
When N came home from school, he requested pizza for dinner. It was then that I told him his baby brother (Baby E) would be coming over for several hours tonight. Baby E's mom brought him over around 4:15, Pizza Hut charged us twice, and we had a great time watching "Finding Nemo" and watching Baby E squeal over everything. He's really stinkin' adorable.
It gave me a bit of a glimpse into what my life would be like if I had a 10 year old and a 7 month old insteaad of a 10 year old and a 7 year old. While the older kid and the infant definitely has its merits, I think the two older kids are more entertaining...until they fight. Oh, the fighting.
He went to sleep for a little while, and N played some Halo. A few hours later, Baby E went home, N showered, and we're both getting ready to crash since he has another 8:30 arrival time for his dang basketball game tomorrow.
Have I mentioned how much I wish he had a different coach? Because it would make dragging my behind to a freezing cold gym a little bit easier if he had a decent coach.
That, and if they turned on the heat in the gym so it wasn't 50 degrees in there...
I don't think that's too much to ask.
Aubs
Just a warning...this post will be incredibly boring. I'm just not that exciting this week. Or today.
After finally getting Geek Squad connected remotely to my laptop, I let them do their job...for 4.5 hours. Apparently, when your anti-virus software is corrupted, it causes a problem. Who knew? With my uncanny knack for ruining electronics, I'm pretty sure purchasing two years of Geek Squad protection when I bought my most recent laptop was a good idea.
I've used it three times. It's totally paid for itself. Thanks to Ryan L. and Ken D., I have new anti-virus software and a ton of updates that I probably needed. I swear, I'm not completely idiotic when it comes to computers and electronical things, but I might've literally typed, "Why does the little taskbar thingy keep covering up my chat windows? 'Cause that's really annoying."
Obviously, I have my priorities exactly the way they should be.
When N came home from school, he requested pizza for dinner. It was then that I told him his baby brother (Baby E) would be coming over for several hours tonight. Baby E's mom brought him over around 4:15, Pizza Hut charged us twice, and we had a great time watching "Finding Nemo" and watching Baby E squeal over everything. He's really stinkin' adorable.
It gave me a bit of a glimpse into what my life would be like if I had a 10 year old and a 7 month old insteaad of a 10 year old and a 7 year old. While the older kid and the infant definitely has its merits, I think the two older kids are more entertaining...until they fight. Oh, the fighting.
He went to sleep for a little while, and N played some Halo. A few hours later, Baby E went home, N showered, and we're both getting ready to crash since he has another 8:30 arrival time for his dang basketball game tomorrow.
Have I mentioned how much I wish he had a different coach? Because it would make dragging my behind to a freezing cold gym a little bit easier if he had a decent coach.
That, and if they turned on the heat in the gym so it wasn't 50 degrees in there...
I don't think that's too much to ask.
Aubs
Thursday, January 24, 2013
I'm the favorite!
Okay, really...I'm not, but tonight I went to meet N's dad so he could throw the baseball with N, and baby E lunged at me from his perch in his dad's arms. I claim to be his favorite, but I might look vaguely like his mom, so that's probably a more reasonable assumption. I could be the favorite though...I could be somebody's favorite.
Someday. Just not today.
Today was a much better day. Both boys had good days, both did their homework with minimal complaining, and they even got along. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn't...probably because B left for the rest of the week. He's going to spend some time with his sisters this weekend, so that should be fun for him.
Today was devoted to laundry and ignoring the fact that other people exist. In fact, my first interaction with anyone was a text message from my friend, Chris, at 1:21 this afternoon...and it was lovely. Unfortunately, my second interaction was with B's dad...and that didn't go nearly as bad as I expected. Then again, it wasn't in person, so there was a bit of a buffer.
When he came to pick B up this afternoon, he stuck around so the boys could play Halo, and being the polite person I am, I tried my hardest to come up with harmless polite conversation instead of blatantly ignoring him like I would have done if I weren't so mature.
That made me giggle.
Tomorrow, I have to go to class from 9-12, and I'm not even bummed about it. I'm not looking forward to the traffic or the horrible lack of parking, but I like being in class where I can interact with people. It's better than doing it in an online forum. Don't get me wrong, the online forum has its advantages...like being able to participate in my pajamas in bed, but there's something about actually hearing other people's points of view...especially when they're completely out there, that's a lot of fun.
I swear, I'd be a student forever if I could.
I can't believe I just typed that.
And with that, I'm going to be a responsible adult and go to bed before 10:30.
Yeah, I can't believe I just typed that either.
Aubs
Someday. Just not today.
Today was a much better day. Both boys had good days, both did their homework with minimal complaining, and they even got along. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn't...probably because B left for the rest of the week. He's going to spend some time with his sisters this weekend, so that should be fun for him.
Today was devoted to laundry and ignoring the fact that other people exist. In fact, my first interaction with anyone was a text message from my friend, Chris, at 1:21 this afternoon...and it was lovely. Unfortunately, my second interaction was with B's dad...and that didn't go nearly as bad as I expected. Then again, it wasn't in person, so there was a bit of a buffer.
When he came to pick B up this afternoon, he stuck around so the boys could play Halo, and being the polite person I am, I tried my hardest to come up with harmless polite conversation instead of blatantly ignoring him like I would have done if I weren't so mature.
That made me giggle.
Tomorrow, I have to go to class from 9-12, and I'm not even bummed about it. I'm not looking forward to the traffic or the horrible lack of parking, but I like being in class where I can interact with people. It's better than doing it in an online forum. Don't get me wrong, the online forum has its advantages...like being able to participate in my pajamas in bed, but there's something about actually hearing other people's points of view...especially when they're completely out there, that's a lot of fun.
I swear, I'd be a student forever if I could.
I can't believe I just typed that.
And with that, I'm going to be a responsible adult and go to bed before 10:30.
Yeah, I can't believe I just typed that either.
Aubs
Drained
You know how just know how a day's going to go by the way your kids wake up in the morning? If you're a parent, or take care of children, you totally know what I'm talking about. Today, within 5 minutes of waking B up, I knew I was in for a day like no other.
Sometimes I hate being right.
Everything was done with whining, complaining, yelling, pestering, unnecessary touching, etc. You name it, he did it this morning. I told him I hoped he had a better day at school because it would be unfortunate if waking up on the wrong side of the bed carried over to his school day.
Apparently, he thought it would be a good idea. He was wrong.
When the boys got home from school, B came into my bathroom, where I was putting my hair up (and taking it down; I was indecisive) and told me he had a bad day. I asked what happened, and he said he had gotten in trouble for dancing in class. (You can laugh. I'm sure it was quite the show...) I reminded him that this rule hasn't changed since Kindergarten, nor will it change in any other grade. We don't dance in class. It's disruptive and rude to his classmates who are trying to learn. Apparently, he thought this rule expired on the last day of Kindergarten.
I asked for his folder so I could see a full explanation of what happened, and he handed me someone else's folder. When I asked why he had someone else's folder, the kid yelled at me. When I turned around to tell him "No! We do not yell at our parents when we're in trouble." the kid took a swing at me. I sent him to his room, and he slammed the door. (This is when the fun begins.) I followed him, and explained that he was going to get three swats for yelling, swinging, and slamming because all of those were disrespectful and that was not acceptable.
Afterwards, he started crying about how he couldn't move, and his butt hurt...and then he told me he'd fallen on his bottom in P.E. and landed in that exact spot. Then came the dramatic hopping/limping, and I told him to build a bridge and get over it. It's my catchphrase. I haven't used it in a while. I told him he would be grounded from video games today, and he started crying. Again. Loudly.
Then, as I told N to get his gear bag so we could go to the park to play baseball, B started crying even louder. I asked what his deal was, and he just fell apart. Apparently, two of the older boys at his afterschool program started telling my little 7 year-old that he was gay. B has a really bad habit of getting in people's personal space, and he's a huggy kid, which drives everyone nuts, but two older boys (and maybe more, but that's all I got out of him) started telling him he was gay. I was furious...and B was begging not to go to the afterschool program anymore. I called to speak to the director, and he was so apologetic. He said one of the boys (the same one who yanked N's cross necklace and broke the chain) had been in trouble constantly, and that was the last straw. He said he was glad B didn't know what "gay" meant, and I said, "Oh, no. See...he does, because these older boys took the time to EXPLAIN what the term meant. To my 7 year-old. You need to fix this."
What does B's dad say about all this? "He needs to get a thicker skin." No, I disagree. He needs to not deal with bullies who are this hurtful and cruel at the age of 7. It's not okay, no matter how you look at it. It's just not. Then, his dad and I agreed that B should stay with me for one more night because of an issue at his dad's house, and I was the lucky one who got to tell (the already unglued) B that he was staying with me.
Did you hear him crying wherever you might live? I'm not surprised.
He just cried and cried and cried, causing me to check to see if he was running a fever. As we walked over to the car at the playground, this exchange occurred:
Me: I'm really sorry B. I know you miss your dad, and he misses you, so if it works out, maybe we can let you stay a couple of extra days next week, okay?
B: I hate going back and forth, Mom. I hate it.
Me: I know you do, and I'm sorry. I wish I could make it better for you, but I really can't.
B: Yes you can.
Me: How?
B: Why can't you let me have a stepdad? I want a stepdad.
Me: I know you do, buddy, but that's just not something I can give you right now.
B: I want to be at your house more, Mom...but I want a dad over here.
Me: And you think having a dad over here would make things better?
B: Yes, mommy. I want a dad at both of my houses. I need a dad.
And my heart broke into a million tiny pieces...because it seems like such a simple request to a kid, and it's not even remotely simple. And I have to say, that whole conversation made me feel about 3 inches tall.
I do my best to be both mom and dad over here. I know I can't fill both roles, but I do what I can, and hope it's enough. I'm far from perfect, and I'm not the best parent. I never claim to be. I make a ton of mistakes, and so many of them are absorbed by my children. I get mad. I yell. I go way overboard on things that are seemingly inconsequential. I flip out. Regularly. I'm stressed all the time. It would be so great to have someone to help share the day to day hardships of parenting with.
But to find someone to fill that role solely for those reasons would be doing it for the wrong reasons. I don't need to find a man to take over for me, and I don't want to. I'm a control freak. I admit it freely, and I'm not necessarily proud of it, but I own it...and I try to change it.
It's hard, and I don't do a good job of changing it. But I admit it. And I try to start each day as if the previous day hadn't occurred. It's hard to start each day with a clean slate, and as parents, it's our job to remember what happened before to prevent it from happening again.
This is usually when smoke starts pouring out of my ears, and I want nothing more than to curl up in the fetal position and pretend everything's perfect. But I can't because it's not. Life is far from perfect, and I appreciate the flaws so much more when I can find the time to take a step back and look at them.
Today, I was given that opportunity by my 7 year-old who is too young to realize that things aren't that simple. Sometimes, I'm right there with him, and I wish they were, but the things that are the most trying are the things that are the most valuable. You learn from them, and the fact that you worked so hard to achieve them, makes them that much more precious.
It was one of those days where I was so glad to take a timeout for a few hours to hang out with some kids that are much less complicated. I love my boys to the ends of the earth, but there's something about taking care of kids that aren't yours who will do what you ask with a giggle or a pouty face, and that's the extent of their resistance. It was a much needed break, but what was even more welcomed was having my mom at home when I got done. I walked in the door, into her arms, and just let go with a flood of tears I'd (apparently) been saving up for a long time. It takes a lot to break me. A lot. It didn't take much in the past, but I've worked really hard to get to where I am. And tonight? Well, I just came unglued a little myself. Just like I told my mom...I love my boys, but I'm really over doing this all by myself. It's not what I signed up for, and I do what I do with minimal complaints, being the bad guy, the disciplinarian, the enforcer...I do it all, and I take the hurtful words and behavior as best I can.
Having the kids is the easy part. Raising them to be good little men? That's the challenge...one I feel like I'm failing at constantly. I know I'm not, and I know I'm ridiculously hard on myself, but that's what it feels like today.
Hell, it's what it feels like most days. There are way more days where I feel like I'm sinking more than I'm swimming, and I know I'm not the only one who feels that way.
But I am one of the few who's not afraid to admit it, and that's a step in the right direction.
Aubs
Sometimes I hate being right.
Everything was done with whining, complaining, yelling, pestering, unnecessary touching, etc. You name it, he did it this morning. I told him I hoped he had a better day at school because it would be unfortunate if waking up on the wrong side of the bed carried over to his school day.
Apparently, he thought it would be a good idea. He was wrong.
When the boys got home from school, B came into my bathroom, where I was putting my hair up (and taking it down; I was indecisive) and told me he had a bad day. I asked what happened, and he said he had gotten in trouble for dancing in class. (You can laugh. I'm sure it was quite the show...) I reminded him that this rule hasn't changed since Kindergarten, nor will it change in any other grade. We don't dance in class. It's disruptive and rude to his classmates who are trying to learn. Apparently, he thought this rule expired on the last day of Kindergarten.
I asked for his folder so I could see a full explanation of what happened, and he handed me someone else's folder. When I asked why he had someone else's folder, the kid yelled at me. When I turned around to tell him "No! We do not yell at our parents when we're in trouble." the kid took a swing at me. I sent him to his room, and he slammed the door. (This is when the fun begins.) I followed him, and explained that he was going to get three swats for yelling, swinging, and slamming because all of those were disrespectful and that was not acceptable.
Afterwards, he started crying about how he couldn't move, and his butt hurt...and then he told me he'd fallen on his bottom in P.E. and landed in that exact spot. Then came the dramatic hopping/limping, and I told him to build a bridge and get over it. It's my catchphrase. I haven't used it in a while. I told him he would be grounded from video games today, and he started crying. Again. Loudly.
Then, as I told N to get his gear bag so we could go to the park to play baseball, B started crying even louder. I asked what his deal was, and he just fell apart. Apparently, two of the older boys at his afterschool program started telling my little 7 year-old that he was gay. B has a really bad habit of getting in people's personal space, and he's a huggy kid, which drives everyone nuts, but two older boys (and maybe more, but that's all I got out of him) started telling him he was gay. I was furious...and B was begging not to go to the afterschool program anymore. I called to speak to the director, and he was so apologetic. He said one of the boys (the same one who yanked N's cross necklace and broke the chain) had been in trouble constantly, and that was the last straw. He said he was glad B didn't know what "gay" meant, and I said, "Oh, no. See...he does, because these older boys took the time to EXPLAIN what the term meant. To my 7 year-old. You need to fix this."
What does B's dad say about all this? "He needs to get a thicker skin." No, I disagree. He needs to not deal with bullies who are this hurtful and cruel at the age of 7. It's not okay, no matter how you look at it. It's just not. Then, his dad and I agreed that B should stay with me for one more night because of an issue at his dad's house, and I was the lucky one who got to tell (the already unglued) B that he was staying with me.
Did you hear him crying wherever you might live? I'm not surprised.
He just cried and cried and cried, causing me to check to see if he was running a fever. As we walked over to the car at the playground, this exchange occurred:
Me: I'm really sorry B. I know you miss your dad, and he misses you, so if it works out, maybe we can let you stay a couple of extra days next week, okay?
B: I hate going back and forth, Mom. I hate it.
Me: I know you do, and I'm sorry. I wish I could make it better for you, but I really can't.
B: Yes you can.
Me: How?
B: Why can't you let me have a stepdad? I want a stepdad.
Me: I know you do, buddy, but that's just not something I can give you right now.
B: I want to be at your house more, Mom...but I want a dad over here.
Me: And you think having a dad over here would make things better?
B: Yes, mommy. I want a dad at both of my houses. I need a dad.
And my heart broke into a million tiny pieces...because it seems like such a simple request to a kid, and it's not even remotely simple. And I have to say, that whole conversation made me feel about 3 inches tall.
I do my best to be both mom and dad over here. I know I can't fill both roles, but I do what I can, and hope it's enough. I'm far from perfect, and I'm not the best parent. I never claim to be. I make a ton of mistakes, and so many of them are absorbed by my children. I get mad. I yell. I go way overboard on things that are seemingly inconsequential. I flip out. Regularly. I'm stressed all the time. It would be so great to have someone to help share the day to day hardships of parenting with.
But to find someone to fill that role solely for those reasons would be doing it for the wrong reasons. I don't need to find a man to take over for me, and I don't want to. I'm a control freak. I admit it freely, and I'm not necessarily proud of it, but I own it...and I try to change it.
It's hard, and I don't do a good job of changing it. But I admit it. And I try to start each day as if the previous day hadn't occurred. It's hard to start each day with a clean slate, and as parents, it's our job to remember what happened before to prevent it from happening again.
This is usually when smoke starts pouring out of my ears, and I want nothing more than to curl up in the fetal position and pretend everything's perfect. But I can't because it's not. Life is far from perfect, and I appreciate the flaws so much more when I can find the time to take a step back and look at them.
Today, I was given that opportunity by my 7 year-old who is too young to realize that things aren't that simple. Sometimes, I'm right there with him, and I wish they were, but the things that are the most trying are the things that are the most valuable. You learn from them, and the fact that you worked so hard to achieve them, makes them that much more precious.
It was one of those days where I was so glad to take a timeout for a few hours to hang out with some kids that are much less complicated. I love my boys to the ends of the earth, but there's something about taking care of kids that aren't yours who will do what you ask with a giggle or a pouty face, and that's the extent of their resistance. It was a much needed break, but what was even more welcomed was having my mom at home when I got done. I walked in the door, into her arms, and just let go with a flood of tears I'd (apparently) been saving up for a long time. It takes a lot to break me. A lot. It didn't take much in the past, but I've worked really hard to get to where I am. And tonight? Well, I just came unglued a little myself. Just like I told my mom...I love my boys, but I'm really over doing this all by myself. It's not what I signed up for, and I do what I do with minimal complaints, being the bad guy, the disciplinarian, the enforcer...I do it all, and I take the hurtful words and behavior as best I can.
Having the kids is the easy part. Raising them to be good little men? That's the challenge...one I feel like I'm failing at constantly. I know I'm not, and I know I'm ridiculously hard on myself, but that's what it feels like today.
Hell, it's what it feels like most days. There are way more days where I feel like I'm sinking more than I'm swimming, and I know I'm not the only one who feels that way.
But I am one of the few who's not afraid to admit it, and that's a step in the right direction.
Aubs
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
What do you want to be when you grow up?
My semester started today. After scrambling around at the last minute, trying to find another class to take since my original class was no longer available, I secured a spot in a completely different class and ordered the textbook. Then, I checked my email to find out that the book was no longer available, so they were issuing me a refund so I could order a different one. Awesome. Nothing says, "This is going to be an awesome semester!" like totally rearranging my life on the first day.
It'll be fun though, and I'm looking forward to my classes...just like I do at the start of every semester.
After the boys got home from school, I needed to run to Sam's to get a few things we were out of, so I made them come along. On the way, we passed Interskate, and B was asking how long the skating rink had been there. I told him it had been there a long time, since I moved back to Texas when I was a teenager.
B: Mom? Has it been there since 1999?
Me: Longer than that, buddy.
B: Well, 1999 isn't very old.
Me: That was when I graduated from high school.
B: Really? That's not very long ago, Mom.
Me: Okay, I have a question. What do you two want to be when you grow up? And before you answer, think about what you would want to do if you couldn't play a sport, like what you would want to go to school to study.
N: That's a hard question. I need to think about that.
B: I'd be an animal doctor.
Me: A veterinarian?
B: Yeah.
Me: That's a great job, but I don't think that would work for you. Know why?
B: Why?
N & Me: Because you're allergic to cats!
B: Oh, well I'll just be a dog doctor then.
Me: That could work. I'm not sure many veterinarians just take care of one kind of animal, though.
B: Okay, maybe I won't be a vegetarian, then.
Me: A what?
B: Mom, I know it's wrong, but I can't say it. So deal with it.
Me: Hahahaha, okay then.
B: Then I'd want to be a teacher, and teach math.
N: Really? I hate math.
B: Oh, good point. I hate math too.
Me: So, then...y'all think about it and get back to me, okay?
Boys: Okay.
We went into Sam's and I let them help pick out the stuff we needed, and then they went around eating samples. That's their favorite part. The best sample was Tillamook cheese. B took a bite and asked the woman if he could have some more. I think he was drooling. That woman was smart. She gave him more and pointed us in the direction of the cheese.
And the boys ate a total of FIVE grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner tonight.
Which is good...because we now have a ridiculous amount of cheese, and I'm not sure who's going to eat it all.
Aubs
It'll be fun though, and I'm looking forward to my classes...just like I do at the start of every semester.
After the boys got home from school, I needed to run to Sam's to get a few things we were out of, so I made them come along. On the way, we passed Interskate, and B was asking how long the skating rink had been there. I told him it had been there a long time, since I moved back to Texas when I was a teenager.
B: Mom? Has it been there since 1999?
Me: Longer than that, buddy.
B: Well, 1999 isn't very old.
Me: That was when I graduated from high school.
B: Really? That's not very long ago, Mom.
Me: Okay, I have a question. What do you two want to be when you grow up? And before you answer, think about what you would want to do if you couldn't play a sport, like what you would want to go to school to study.
N: That's a hard question. I need to think about that.
B: I'd be an animal doctor.
Me: A veterinarian?
B: Yeah.
Me: That's a great job, but I don't think that would work for you. Know why?
B: Why?
N & Me: Because you're allergic to cats!
B: Oh, well I'll just be a dog doctor then.
Me: That could work. I'm not sure many veterinarians just take care of one kind of animal, though.
B: Okay, maybe I won't be a vegetarian, then.
Me: A what?
B: Mom, I know it's wrong, but I can't say it. So deal with it.
Me: Hahahaha, okay then.
B: Then I'd want to be a teacher, and teach math.
N: Really? I hate math.
B: Oh, good point. I hate math too.
Me: So, then...y'all think about it and get back to me, okay?
Boys: Okay.
We went into Sam's and I let them help pick out the stuff we needed, and then they went around eating samples. That's their favorite part. The best sample was Tillamook cheese. B took a bite and asked the woman if he could have some more. I think he was drooling. That woman was smart. She gave him more and pointed us in the direction of the cheese.
And the boys ate a total of FIVE grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner tonight.
Which is good...because we now have a ridiculous amount of cheese, and I'm not sure who's going to eat it all.
Aubs
Monday, January 21, 2013
PJ Day
Last night, the boys and I were so warm, that I left the windows open and the fans on. It was a blustery 57 degrees when I woke up this morning...INSIDE my apartment, but I didn't even notice until I left my bedroom and found N huddled under his comforter with his ipod. My room gets all the sunlight in the morning, so it's always warm...the boys, on the other hand, are almost always in the shade. I don't know why he didn't close the windows or come get me, but it was pretty dang chilly this morning.
How do we remedy that? Hot chocolate for breakfast. Since I dumped their hot chocolate last night, I said they could have some for breakfast, and I kept my promise. I jumped up and down in the kitchen while the Keurig was warming up, and ran for the covers as soon as it was finished. We spent the day in our pjs, watching movies, making snacks, playing games on the computer, and playing video games. It was exactly the kind of day a "no school" day should be.
There were only a few occasions where things got a little out of hand, but they were fixed simply by threatening to remove video games from their lives. I remember when my mom used to hide the Super Nintendo controllers and/or power cord from my sister and me during our summers home alone. They were always in a different place each time, too...sneaky moms. They sure know what they're doing!
They got in bed without incident, but when my Twinkie, Kendra, called, they quickly realized I was preoccupied with talking to her, and used that to their advantage. Long story short, they won't be playing video games tomorrow after school, and I've removed the batteries from the controllers. Mom plays hard ball, y'all. It was lovely to talk to my Twinkie on her way home from seeing Rick Springfield. She got to hear "Jessie's Girl" LIVE! SOOOOOO jealous!
I'm in a bakering mood, so I may make some homemade chocolate chip cookies tomorrow for N's snack after school and be all domestic. Also, my online classes start tomorrow, so I'm kind of excited to get that going again. The deadlines and ridiculous discussion questions people post (I used to think they were joking, but now I realize...people are actually serious when they post dumb questions) kind of give me something to look forward to.
Yes, I did just admit that I'm a total nerd.
I embrace it. You should, too.
Aubs
How do we remedy that? Hot chocolate for breakfast. Since I dumped their hot chocolate last night, I said they could have some for breakfast, and I kept my promise. I jumped up and down in the kitchen while the Keurig was warming up, and ran for the covers as soon as it was finished. We spent the day in our pjs, watching movies, making snacks, playing games on the computer, and playing video games. It was exactly the kind of day a "no school" day should be.
There were only a few occasions where things got a little out of hand, but they were fixed simply by threatening to remove video games from their lives. I remember when my mom used to hide the Super Nintendo controllers and/or power cord from my sister and me during our summers home alone. They were always in a different place each time, too...sneaky moms. They sure know what they're doing!
They got in bed without incident, but when my Twinkie, Kendra, called, they quickly realized I was preoccupied with talking to her, and used that to their advantage. Long story short, they won't be playing video games tomorrow after school, and I've removed the batteries from the controllers. Mom plays hard ball, y'all. It was lovely to talk to my Twinkie on her way home from seeing Rick Springfield. She got to hear "Jessie's Girl" LIVE! SOOOOOO jealous!
I'm in a bakering mood, so I may make some homemade chocolate chip cookies tomorrow for N's snack after school and be all domestic. Also, my online classes start tomorrow, so I'm kind of excited to get that going again. The deadlines and ridiculous discussion questions people post (I used to think they were joking, but now I realize...people are actually serious when they post dumb questions) kind of give me something to look forward to.
Yes, I did just admit that I'm a total nerd.
I embrace it. You should, too.
Aubs
Moms are really good finders
N's wallet has been missing since right after Christmas. He got a bunch of money, in lieu of presents this year, and was given his grandfather's wallet. This was so special to him because his grandfather died last May, and it's been a hard road for my precious boy. I wouldn't let him keep his money in his grandfather's wallet, partially because there is a lot of other stuff in there (apparently, nobody thought it best to clean OUT the wallet before giving it to a 10 year-old), but also because it's special and I know how N is with keeping up with his stuff.
Grandfather's wallet? Safe & sound. Wallet full of money? Missing. Awesome. After he got over the bug he had a week or so ago, he began tearing his room apart looking for the wallet. He had his dad tear apart his truck and N's room over there, looking for this thing. THEN, his dad came over and helped N look in his room. Yesterday, I was in his room, and found it. Under a hat. You know...the best place to keep a wallet is under a hat.
Anyway, inside the wallet was a Gamestop gift card, something he'd been wanting to use since he got it on our Christmas Day (a week after Christmas), but he hadn't been able to. (See above paragraphs.) B also got one, so I stood in the shower for almost an hour, letting the hot water hit the left side of my back, and then we were off.
I explained to them that we weren't going to stay in Gamestop all afternoon, so we needed to focus. That's why, as soon as we walked in the door, B ran off to play the PS3 and N took off for the Xbox360. Um, hello? We have one of those. Let's pick games and move on with our lives. They each selected a game in a decent amount of time, and were super excited to go home to play them.
Until I told them we also had to stop by the grocery store. I didn't lead with that one because I'm a genius. While they were perfectly well-behaved in Gamestop, the grocery store was a nightmare. I think it's always a nightmare on Sundays, especially when there's no school on Monday.
I got most of the stuff I needed, but decided I didn't hate myself enough to try to drag them to Target, so we went home. And when we got there, B immediately went to get ice packs for me to lean against. He was obviously sucking up so he could try his new game, and I was absolutely down for that. They played for a while without incident, and then started to get snarky. I love that word...snarky. You just know what it means simply by how it sounds.
After a quick dinner (that they mostly made themselves), they took showers, and I let them have another round. During the second round, I called to them:
Me: Who wants to do their favorite mom EVER a super huge favor?
Silence.
Me: I SAID...Who wants to do their favorite mom EVER a super huge favor?
N: B, do you hear something? I think it might be the wind...
B: I do! I will! What do you want, Mom?
N: Suck up.
B: You're absolutely right! I want to keep playing. If we don't do it, she might tell us to turn it off.
(That B is a genius kid, I'll tell you that right now.)
N: Oh, good call. What can we do for you, Mom?
And that was how I got a refill on my water AND fresh ice packs.
I rewarded them with hot chocolate that they forgot to drink because they were playing...and it caused major drama when I dumped it out. B might've been sitting on the floor in the kitchen, crying, "But MOM...it was just tooo HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!"
I told him he could have hot chocolate for breakfast...because I'm the coolest mom in the world, AND because he goes to his dad's tomorrow.
Mark that one down in the win column for "Mom" okay?
Thanks.
Aubs
Grandfather's wallet? Safe & sound. Wallet full of money? Missing. Awesome. After he got over the bug he had a week or so ago, he began tearing his room apart looking for the wallet. He had his dad tear apart his truck and N's room over there, looking for this thing. THEN, his dad came over and helped N look in his room. Yesterday, I was in his room, and found it. Under a hat. You know...the best place to keep a wallet is under a hat.
Anyway, inside the wallet was a Gamestop gift card, something he'd been wanting to use since he got it on our Christmas Day (a week after Christmas), but he hadn't been able to. (See above paragraphs.) B also got one, so I stood in the shower for almost an hour, letting the hot water hit the left side of my back, and then we were off.
I explained to them that we weren't going to stay in Gamestop all afternoon, so we needed to focus. That's why, as soon as we walked in the door, B ran off to play the PS3 and N took off for the Xbox360. Um, hello? We have one of those. Let's pick games and move on with our lives. They each selected a game in a decent amount of time, and were super excited to go home to play them.
Until I told them we also had to stop by the grocery store. I didn't lead with that one because I'm a genius. While they were perfectly well-behaved in Gamestop, the grocery store was a nightmare. I think it's always a nightmare on Sundays, especially when there's no school on Monday.
I got most of the stuff I needed, but decided I didn't hate myself enough to try to drag them to Target, so we went home. And when we got there, B immediately went to get ice packs for me to lean against. He was obviously sucking up so he could try his new game, and I was absolutely down for that. They played for a while without incident, and then started to get snarky. I love that word...snarky. You just know what it means simply by how it sounds.
After a quick dinner (that they mostly made themselves), they took showers, and I let them have another round. During the second round, I called to them:
Me: Who wants to do their favorite mom EVER a super huge favor?
Silence.
Me: I SAID...Who wants to do their favorite mom EVER a super huge favor?
N: B, do you hear something? I think it might be the wind...
B: I do! I will! What do you want, Mom?
N: Suck up.
B: You're absolutely right! I want to keep playing. If we don't do it, she might tell us to turn it off.
(That B is a genius kid, I'll tell you that right now.)
N: Oh, good call. What can we do for you, Mom?
And that was how I got a refill on my water AND fresh ice packs.
I rewarded them with hot chocolate that they forgot to drink because they were playing...and it caused major drama when I dumped it out. B might've been sitting on the floor in the kitchen, crying, "But MOM...it was just tooo HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!"
I told him he could have hot chocolate for breakfast...because I'm the coolest mom in the world, AND because he goes to his dad's tomorrow.
Mark that one down in the win column for "Mom" okay?
Thanks.
Aubs
Sunday, January 20, 2013
My little helpers
All in all, the boys have been pretty dang helpful while I've been a little less than my normal mobility. It took a while for them to understand what hurts, why it hurts, and how it hurts more when I'm jostled by them, but I'll take the pain when it's the result of one of them running up to hug me, "just because I love you so much."
Any day of the week.
After a sleepless night, where I got a total of 75-90 minutes of sleep, we rushed to N's basketball game. When we got there, we were the first people in the gym (I love how the coach requests they get there 30 minutes prior and then shows up 10 minutes before the game starts) and they hadn't turned on the heat. It was a chilly 50 degrees in there, if that. It had B & I shivering, which did wonders for the pain radiating down the left side of my body.
The game seemed to take forever. I looked over at N's dad at one point and said, "This is the last period, right?" Wrong. It was still the first. The game was pretty back and forth for a while, but they lost. Again. I feel so bad for them, especially N because he can actually shoot. He was just put on a team of ball hogs, whose parents are overheard telling them to keep the ball and make the shots. Not to be rude, but the kids whose parents are telling them to keep the ball? They don't need to keep the ball until they can actually shoot and make it. I'm just saying...
Afterwards, N said he figured that would be his last game. "Mom, I don't mind if they're ball hogs if they're actually making baskets, but it's stupid for them to air ball it all the time when other people are able to make shots." How do you argue with that? I told him to think it over, but our basketball season may be over, and I'm totally okay with that. I'm not one to condone quitting, but it's not like this is actually a good learning experience.
We got home and I took a nap while B laid with me, watching cartoons, and N played on his ipod. I got up, took N to play with a friend, dropped B off with his dad for some time with his cousins, and went back home to ice/heat/Aleve/repeat.
I'm hoping it's working...Now N's at his dad's and B's sleeping on the couch, "just in case you need something, Mom." but really, it equates to, "I don't want to sleep in my room on the other side of the apartment all by myself, but I'm using you being hurt as an excuse instead because I've totally become a scaredy cat lately and nobody knows why."
Or something like that.
I could be making it up, but I'm not.
What would be the fun in that?
We watched "The Incredibles" tonight, and it was precious, because neither of us had seen it in a while...and then I decided that I needed a project, so I started looking at some ideas.
And then I remembered school starts on Tuesday, and I'd better order the books I need. So, the boys and I will be going to the bookstore on their day off on Monday.
I can only guess how excited they'll be!
Aubs
Any day of the week.
After a sleepless night, where I got a total of 75-90 minutes of sleep, we rushed to N's basketball game. When we got there, we were the first people in the gym (I love how the coach requests they get there 30 minutes prior and then shows up 10 minutes before the game starts) and they hadn't turned on the heat. It was a chilly 50 degrees in there, if that. It had B & I shivering, which did wonders for the pain radiating down the left side of my body.
The game seemed to take forever. I looked over at N's dad at one point and said, "This is the last period, right?" Wrong. It was still the first. The game was pretty back and forth for a while, but they lost. Again. I feel so bad for them, especially N because he can actually shoot. He was just put on a team of ball hogs, whose parents are overheard telling them to keep the ball and make the shots. Not to be rude, but the kids whose parents are telling them to keep the ball? They don't need to keep the ball until they can actually shoot and make it. I'm just saying...
Afterwards, N said he figured that would be his last game. "Mom, I don't mind if they're ball hogs if they're actually making baskets, but it's stupid for them to air ball it all the time when other people are able to make shots." How do you argue with that? I told him to think it over, but our basketball season may be over, and I'm totally okay with that. I'm not one to condone quitting, but it's not like this is actually a good learning experience.
We got home and I took a nap while B laid with me, watching cartoons, and N played on his ipod. I got up, took N to play with a friend, dropped B off with his dad for some time with his cousins, and went back home to ice/heat/Aleve/repeat.
I'm hoping it's working...Now N's at his dad's and B's sleeping on the couch, "just in case you need something, Mom." but really, it equates to, "I don't want to sleep in my room on the other side of the apartment all by myself, but I'm using you being hurt as an excuse instead because I've totally become a scaredy cat lately and nobody knows why."
Or something like that.
I could be making it up, but I'm not.
What would be the fun in that?
We watched "The Incredibles" tonight, and it was precious, because neither of us had seen it in a while...and then I decided that I needed a project, so I started looking at some ideas.
And then I remembered school starts on Tuesday, and I'd better order the books I need. So, the boys and I will be going to the bookstore on their day off on Monday.
I can only guess how excited they'll be!
Aubs
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Oh, the pain...
I had this really adorable picture of B's class today when I went to read to them, but it was inadvertently deleted...by one of the kids in his class who said they were making a weird face. Dramatic at the age of 6/7? Never! Anyway, I went to read to B's class today, and when I pulled up, I saw this long line of kids running in circles around the playground, being led by a familiar looking little boy in race car jammies and a hoodie on his head, flowing behind him like a cape.
That is my child. I may have done something similar at that age. In fact, I'm fairly certain it probably occurred in Jillian Pfluke's backyard. Those were the days, let me tell you. I have so many happy memories of my church family friends from when I was a little girl. We were such a bizarre bunch, but it worked...probably because our parents all got along really well. It's so funny how many of them I still keep in contact with today. Lifelong friendships, I tell you...lifelong.
Today we read "Seven Silly Eaters," about a mom who is crazy and has seven kids who only like one very different item each. We kept with the food theme and read, "Mrs. Pig's Bulk Buy," which explains why pigs are pink...it's ketchup. Whoops, I ruined that one for you, and to wrap it up, we started "Best Friends for Frances," which was getting really interesting, but then it was time for spelling. Dang spelling.
I went home and walked very gingerly up the stairs to my freezer, where I grabbed a cold pack, stuck my hot pack in the microwave, and counted down the seconds on the microwave until I could carry both of them into my room for some relief. Why, you ask? Oh. Okay. I'll tell you. So, last night, I'd been sitting on the couch, looking over homework and blogging for quite some time, so I stood up to stretch and to go get ready for bed. When I stretched and leaned to the left to pop my back, I felt something pull. It was not pleasant, and now my entire left side, mainly my left oblique muscle, is crazy painful.
It's made everything extremely interesting, and B bumping into my bed 84 times this evening? Not so fun. When he elbowed me in the side, I screamed like I was being murdered. Well, I've never been murdered, but I have seen every single episode of both Law & Order: SVU and Law & Order: CI, so I feel like I know what a murderous scream sounds like.
N wanted to go over to a friend's house for a while this afternoon, and he lucked out because B forgot to ride the bus home, so I had to go pick him up at his after school program, which is (coincidentally) right around the corner from N's friend's house. B played outside, I wrapped a cold pack around my side, and then we went to get N, and when I was talking to his friend's mom, we discovered that our boys are playing basketball against each other tomorrow.
N announced he was going to switch to the other team. I don't doubt his desire to do so. In fact, he's my child, so I bet he'll try.
We ended our evening with Xbox, movies, and two boys who were (for the most part) very accommodating to their mom. N even said, "Mom, you never ask us to do everything for you, so I know it must hurt." as he did everything for the laundry except put the soap in and cleaned up after himself and B after dinner.
I don't know how it happened, but someone raised that boy right. Now, if they could just get along, my life would be so much easier...
But first, I have to figure out how I'm going to get over this dang muscle pain.
Aubs
That is my child. I may have done something similar at that age. In fact, I'm fairly certain it probably occurred in Jillian Pfluke's backyard. Those were the days, let me tell you. I have so many happy memories of my church family friends from when I was a little girl. We were such a bizarre bunch, but it worked...probably because our parents all got along really well. It's so funny how many of them I still keep in contact with today. Lifelong friendships, I tell you...lifelong.
Today we read "Seven Silly Eaters," about a mom who is crazy and has seven kids who only like one very different item each. We kept with the food theme and read, "Mrs. Pig's Bulk Buy," which explains why pigs are pink...it's ketchup. Whoops, I ruined that one for you, and to wrap it up, we started "Best Friends for Frances," which was getting really interesting, but then it was time for spelling. Dang spelling.
I went home and walked very gingerly up the stairs to my freezer, where I grabbed a cold pack, stuck my hot pack in the microwave, and counted down the seconds on the microwave until I could carry both of them into my room for some relief. Why, you ask? Oh. Okay. I'll tell you. So, last night, I'd been sitting on the couch, looking over homework and blogging for quite some time, so I stood up to stretch and to go get ready for bed. When I stretched and leaned to the left to pop my back, I felt something pull. It was not pleasant, and now my entire left side, mainly my left oblique muscle, is crazy painful.
It's made everything extremely interesting, and B bumping into my bed 84 times this evening? Not so fun. When he elbowed me in the side, I screamed like I was being murdered. Well, I've never been murdered, but I have seen every single episode of both Law & Order: SVU and Law & Order: CI, so I feel like I know what a murderous scream sounds like.
N wanted to go over to a friend's house for a while this afternoon, and he lucked out because B forgot to ride the bus home, so I had to go pick him up at his after school program, which is (coincidentally) right around the corner from N's friend's house. B played outside, I wrapped a cold pack around my side, and then we went to get N, and when I was talking to his friend's mom, we discovered that our boys are playing basketball against each other tomorrow.
N announced he was going to switch to the other team. I don't doubt his desire to do so. In fact, he's my child, so I bet he'll try.
We ended our evening with Xbox, movies, and two boys who were (for the most part) very accommodating to their mom. N even said, "Mom, you never ask us to do everything for you, so I know it must hurt." as he did everything for the laundry except put the soap in and cleaned up after himself and B after dinner.
I don't know how it happened, but someone raised that boy right. Now, if they could just get along, my life would be so much easier...
But first, I have to figure out how I'm going to get over this dang muscle pain.
Aubs
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Fun Run? I can think of a much better title...
Today was the much dreaded, I mean anticipated, Fun Run at school. I've heard about this event, and when I saw it looming ahead on the calendar, I tried to figure out a way to avoid it like the plague. Lucky for me, N was sick for half the week last week, so his head wasn't full of all of the propaganda of cool prizes and fun and running. I'm not even sure how the last two items even go together. I've never had fun running, let me just get that out in the open right now.
B, however, has an easily molded mind, and went to his dad's shrieking about the great prizes he could get if they just pledged $2/lap! One of my friends said that she was just going to go out and buy all of the prizes next time, and just give them to her kids instead of doing the fundraiser. I think she might be onto something. Two days before "crunch time," I called my family, and they came through for the boys, and made sure they'd get some crap, I mean really AWESOME prizes.
(Still waiting on the awesome.)
I volunteered to pass out water to the runners as they did their due diligence, 26-36 laps around the gym, but when I got there, the plan had changed. Instead, everyone was given a sharpie, and we literally tagged each kid's back as they ran past. The fifth graders were the first group, and it was total chaos. N, just coming off being sick, was supposed to take it easy...and by easy, I did NOT mean 46 laps. Almost every kid ran at least 36 laps; some ran 60-70. I left after that one, promising to return for the first graders. I figured that would be even more crazy, but they said, "No...we'll work the kinks out between now and then."
Optimistic fools.
I made sure to be there for the first graders, primarily because I knew B would want to participate, and with his crazy asthma, I wanted his inhaler to be in my pocket, ready to go. His dad & stepmom told him to run 2 laps, and that was it. They emailed his teacher, telling her the same thing, but since she wasn't in there...anyway, I was. And I wasn't going to make him sit out while the rest of his friends ran, so I told him he had to check in with me on every single lap. If we needed the inhaler, it was there, and he could always walk. Right?
That fool ran 55 laps.
After school, I was thinking to myself that they would be so exhausted that it would be a nice, quiet afternoon. And then I remembered I was an idiot. The roofers were still pounding away, so B and I went out to get the mail. On the out, this conversation transpired:
B: Mom, how did the guys get up on the roof?
Me: I'm not sure.
B (touching the rope): Did they use this rope?
Me: DON'T TOUCH THE ROPE! I don't know. It would be hard to get on the roof using just a rope.
B: They might've used the rope...
Me: I don't think so. Look, there's a ladder. I bet that's how they got up there.
B: I bet they all have diseases...that's probably why they're on the roof. They only let people work on roofs if they have diseases.
For once in my life, I'm speechless...and while he's yelling this, so he can be heard over the hammering and pounding, I realize the hammering and pounding has stopped. But he hasn't stopped yelling about how all the men currently on our roof probably have diseases. Obviously, that's why they're up there.
Now, I'm dying laughing, and B starts panicking, begging me not to tell his brother.
I hauled butt up the stairs, and locked the door, still laughing. Don't worry, he was with me, begging me not to tell N, who instantly wanted to know what was so funny. I said I'd tell him later, but later, his dad came by to drop off some homework he'd left over there, and I told him the story. He was kind of mad, which is ridiculous, and they had a talk:
Dad: B, what was up with the guys on the roof?
B: Oh, they all had diseases. That's why they work on roofs.
Dad: Where did you get that idea?
B: Duh. From the moon.
That is SO my kid. I use that one all the time! It was all I could do to not spit water all over myself. Instead, I just choked on it. I'm classy like that.
Meanwhile, N's working on this homework assignment where he has to connect parts of this book he's reading to things in his life or the lives of others he knows. Or something. Fifth grade is weird. I'm trying to help him come up with ideas on his own, and here's what I get for my efforts:
Me: So, this takes place in the mountains in Canada?
N: Yeah...
Me: It's a shame you've never been to...
N: I've been to the mountains in Colorado!
Me: There you go!
N: And they play hockey, and that reminds me of "The Mighty Ducks!"
Me: Take the fall, act hurt, get indignant?
N: Yeah, okay...
Me: So, how do they get back and forth?
N: On a plane...
Me: Do you know anyone who flies on planes a lot?
N: My balls!!!
Okay then, I give up. And he only has three "connectors" for his homework assignment. "My balls" was changed to his grandmother...which is just slightly a little more than hilarious.
We've never been really big on "private parts" talk or "potty talk" in my house. It's always been a rule, but they both really seem to push the envelope lately, especially when it comes to their junk. Thankfully, the days of B dancing around the bathroom naked, singing, "My junk! My junk! My junk, my junk, my junk!" seem to have come to an end, but every once in a while, he busts out with a little move or song that makes it really hard to pretend it's business as usual.
Tonight, I sent him to brush his teeth, and as he's brushing, he's singing "I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it..." and as he's singing around his toothbrush in his mouth, he's dancing around like one of the Village People. I swear. I peeked around the corner just to see what he was doing, and for his grand finale, he dropped down into a crouch, and pelvic thrusted all the way up, singing, "I'm sexy and I know it!"
N and I were collapsed in the hallway, with tears streaming down our faces, and he was totally oblivious.
We got a quick visit from Baby E tonight, and that was fun. He was grabbing faces and hair and I kept calling him Helen Keller, which would make him gurgle and shriek. I was bouncing him on my knee, and B got too close, so E kicked him...you guessed it! In the balls.
This is my life. I feel like I've said that a lot lately.
This is my life. Don't be jealous...except for sometimes, maybe you should be.
Aubs
Sidebar: This falls into the category of "yesterday's hell" but while we were at Target, and in the checkout line, this woman in front of me was juggling 4 kids and 2 baskets full of stuff. I looked at her in awe, as she held an older baby/toddler (maybe) in one hand and negotiated everything else with the other... AND that was when B decided to yell (since he only has one volume)
B: MOM, CAN WE HAVE A BABY BROTHER?! PLEASE?!
N: No, B, we can't...remember, Pampaw says she's closed for business. Whatever that means.
Lady in front of us: Do you want one of these?
Me: Oh, you're sweet, but no thanks. I maxed out at one, but somehow this one ended up on my doorstep, and I couldn't find a return address...
The lady behind me gasped, and the cashier turned bright red as she tried not to laugh. I told her it was okay, and she let loose with the biggest laugh I'd ever heard. And then, I promptly took my kids home, made them dinner, and put them to bed. The end.
B, however, has an easily molded mind, and went to his dad's shrieking about the great prizes he could get if they just pledged $2/lap! One of my friends said that she was just going to go out and buy all of the prizes next time, and just give them to her kids instead of doing the fundraiser. I think she might be onto something. Two days before "crunch time," I called my family, and they came through for the boys, and made sure they'd get some crap, I mean really AWESOME prizes.
(Still waiting on the awesome.)
I volunteered to pass out water to the runners as they did their due diligence, 26-36 laps around the gym, but when I got there, the plan had changed. Instead, everyone was given a sharpie, and we literally tagged each kid's back as they ran past. The fifth graders were the first group, and it was total chaos. N, just coming off being sick, was supposed to take it easy...and by easy, I did NOT mean 46 laps. Almost every kid ran at least 36 laps; some ran 60-70. I left after that one, promising to return for the first graders. I figured that would be even more crazy, but they said, "No...we'll work the kinks out between now and then."
Optimistic fools.
I made sure to be there for the first graders, primarily because I knew B would want to participate, and with his crazy asthma, I wanted his inhaler to be in my pocket, ready to go. His dad & stepmom told him to run 2 laps, and that was it. They emailed his teacher, telling her the same thing, but since she wasn't in there...anyway, I was. And I wasn't going to make him sit out while the rest of his friends ran, so I told him he had to check in with me on every single lap. If we needed the inhaler, it was there, and he could always walk. Right?
That fool ran 55 laps.
After school, I was thinking to myself that they would be so exhausted that it would be a nice, quiet afternoon. And then I remembered I was an idiot. The roofers were still pounding away, so B and I went out to get the mail. On the out, this conversation transpired:
B: Mom, how did the guys get up on the roof?
Me: I'm not sure.
B (touching the rope): Did they use this rope?
Me: DON'T TOUCH THE ROPE! I don't know. It would be hard to get on the roof using just a rope.
B: They might've used the rope...
Me: I don't think so. Look, there's a ladder. I bet that's how they got up there.
B: I bet they all have diseases...that's probably why they're on the roof. They only let people work on roofs if they have diseases.
For once in my life, I'm speechless...and while he's yelling this, so he can be heard over the hammering and pounding, I realize the hammering and pounding has stopped. But he hasn't stopped yelling about how all the men currently on our roof probably have diseases. Obviously, that's why they're up there.
Now, I'm dying laughing, and B starts panicking, begging me not to tell his brother.
I hauled butt up the stairs, and locked the door, still laughing. Don't worry, he was with me, begging me not to tell N, who instantly wanted to know what was so funny. I said I'd tell him later, but later, his dad came by to drop off some homework he'd left over there, and I told him the story. He was kind of mad, which is ridiculous, and they had a talk:
Dad: B, what was up with the guys on the roof?
B: Oh, they all had diseases. That's why they work on roofs.
Dad: Where did you get that idea?
B: Duh. From the moon.
That is SO my kid. I use that one all the time! It was all I could do to not spit water all over myself. Instead, I just choked on it. I'm classy like that.
Meanwhile, N's working on this homework assignment where he has to connect parts of this book he's reading to things in his life or the lives of others he knows. Or something. Fifth grade is weird. I'm trying to help him come up with ideas on his own, and here's what I get for my efforts:
Me: So, this takes place in the mountains in Canada?
N: Yeah...
Me: It's a shame you've never been to...
N: I've been to the mountains in Colorado!
Me: There you go!
N: And they play hockey, and that reminds me of "The Mighty Ducks!"
Me: Take the fall, act hurt, get indignant?
N: Yeah, okay...
Me: So, how do they get back and forth?
N: On a plane...
Me: Do you know anyone who flies on planes a lot?
N: My balls!!!
Okay then, I give up. And he only has three "connectors" for his homework assignment. "My balls" was changed to his grandmother...which is just slightly a little more than hilarious.
We've never been really big on "private parts" talk or "potty talk" in my house. It's always been a rule, but they both really seem to push the envelope lately, especially when it comes to their junk. Thankfully, the days of B dancing around the bathroom naked, singing, "My junk! My junk! My junk, my junk, my junk!" seem to have come to an end, but every once in a while, he busts out with a little move or song that makes it really hard to pretend it's business as usual.
Tonight, I sent him to brush his teeth, and as he's brushing, he's singing "I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it..." and as he's singing around his toothbrush in his mouth, he's dancing around like one of the Village People. I swear. I peeked around the corner just to see what he was doing, and for his grand finale, he dropped down into a crouch, and pelvic thrusted all the way up, singing, "I'm sexy and I know it!"
N and I were collapsed in the hallway, with tears streaming down our faces, and he was totally oblivious.
We got a quick visit from Baby E tonight, and that was fun. He was grabbing faces and hair and I kept calling him Helen Keller, which would make him gurgle and shriek. I was bouncing him on my knee, and B got too close, so E kicked him...you guessed it! In the balls.
This is my life. I feel like I've said that a lot lately.
This is my life. Don't be jealous...except for sometimes, maybe you should be.
Aubs
Sidebar: This falls into the category of "yesterday's hell" but while we were at Target, and in the checkout line, this woman in front of me was juggling 4 kids and 2 baskets full of stuff. I looked at her in awe, as she held an older baby/toddler (maybe) in one hand and negotiated everything else with the other... AND that was when B decided to yell (since he only has one volume)
B: MOM, CAN WE HAVE A BABY BROTHER?! PLEASE?!
N: No, B, we can't...remember, Pampaw says she's closed for business. Whatever that means.
Lady in front of us: Do you want one of these?
Me: Oh, you're sweet, but no thanks. I maxed out at one, but somehow this one ended up on my doorstep, and I couldn't find a return address...
The lady behind me gasped, and the cashier turned bright red as she tried not to laugh. I told her it was okay, and she let loose with the biggest laugh I'd ever heard. And then, I promptly took my kids home, made them dinner, and put them to bed. The end.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Remember that virtue...patience? Yeah, neither do I.
We had such a great morning this morning...seriously, I couldn't believe how great the boys were this morning. From wake-up time to walking out the door, they were nice to each other and quick to get ready for school. I figured it had to be a sign that a good day was on the horizon.
Enter the roofers. Coppell got hit by some pretty bad tornadoes last spring, so roofers have been going from building to building, replacing the shingles. They sent out a notice in November that this would be happening. Apparently, today was my building's day. I had a killer headache, so I was trying to take a little nap to at least lessen the pounding in my head...until they started up. I swear they were throwing bowling balls at the roof directly above my apartment, and then dancing a little jig in wooden shoes. It might've happened. I wasn't going outside to check.
They pounded and banged and hammered and yelled and threw stuff off the building...and then it was quiet. I fell asleep, and was rudely awakened by more of the same. Stinkin' lunch breaks. I was hoping they had finished my side and had moved on to torture my neighbors. Wishful thinking...
At this point, I knew I needed to go to Target, but I knew I wouldn't make it home in time to meet the school bus, so I made the choice to wait until they got home. I also dreaded letting them know we were going to Target. I just knew it wouldn't go over well.
I bribed them with a snack, they talked me into Icees, and I KNEW this was going to be a real "treat." See, the boys don't get much sugar very often, partly because they rarely ask for it, and partly because they go insane. Against my better judgement, I agreed...and that's when our day went downhill super speedy quick. While at Target, they each (separately) earned a bedtime of 30 minutes earlier than normal.
That's pretty impressive...but once we got home, N did homework, B drove everyone crazy, and I cleaned the kitchen, and peace was (briefly) restored. I made them dinner, and my phone rang. It was a friend I hadn't talked to in forever; the mom of B's best friend from Kindergarten. We were chatting, catching up, and the boys seemed to have forgotten every single piece of phone etiquette I ever taught them. There was fighting, tattling, running, screeching, N pulled B's jeans down which caused screaming and laughter...the list goes on and on and on. It was a nightmare. I stopped what I was doing, and explained their behavior was absolutely wrong, then sent N to shower. When he got out, B was supposed to get in.
But B decided that today would be the day he was afraid of the shower...and of closing the door...and apparently, of taking off his socks. I don't even know. Anything he was asked to do, he was terrified of it. I sent them to bed at 7:15, and then ended up sitting at the foot of B's bed for an additional 10 minutes so he'd stop crying and go to bed.
Where that's coming from, I have no idea.
They don't know it yet, but there won't be any video gaming or ipoding for the rest of the week, as a result of their behavior. I can't wait to be the bearer of bad news tomorrow...
All I know is, I had a delightful rum & coke, and I'm ready to go to bed at 9:24.
I'm pretty sure that's the most pathetic end of a sentence I've ever written...
Aubs
Enter the roofers. Coppell got hit by some pretty bad tornadoes last spring, so roofers have been going from building to building, replacing the shingles. They sent out a notice in November that this would be happening. Apparently, today was my building's day. I had a killer headache, so I was trying to take a little nap to at least lessen the pounding in my head...until they started up. I swear they were throwing bowling balls at the roof directly above my apartment, and then dancing a little jig in wooden shoes. It might've happened. I wasn't going outside to check.
They pounded and banged and hammered and yelled and threw stuff off the building...and then it was quiet. I fell asleep, and was rudely awakened by more of the same. Stinkin' lunch breaks. I was hoping they had finished my side and had moved on to torture my neighbors. Wishful thinking...
At this point, I knew I needed to go to Target, but I knew I wouldn't make it home in time to meet the school bus, so I made the choice to wait until they got home. I also dreaded letting them know we were going to Target. I just knew it wouldn't go over well.
I bribed them with a snack, they talked me into Icees, and I KNEW this was going to be a real "treat." See, the boys don't get much sugar very often, partly because they rarely ask for it, and partly because they go insane. Against my better judgement, I agreed...and that's when our day went downhill super speedy quick. While at Target, they each (separately) earned a bedtime of 30 minutes earlier than normal.
That's pretty impressive...but once we got home, N did homework, B drove everyone crazy, and I cleaned the kitchen, and peace was (briefly) restored. I made them dinner, and my phone rang. It was a friend I hadn't talked to in forever; the mom of B's best friend from Kindergarten. We were chatting, catching up, and the boys seemed to have forgotten every single piece of phone etiquette I ever taught them. There was fighting, tattling, running, screeching, N pulled B's jeans down which caused screaming and laughter...the list goes on and on and on. It was a nightmare. I stopped what I was doing, and explained their behavior was absolutely wrong, then sent N to shower. When he got out, B was supposed to get in.
But B decided that today would be the day he was afraid of the shower...and of closing the door...and apparently, of taking off his socks. I don't even know. Anything he was asked to do, he was terrified of it. I sent them to bed at 7:15, and then ended up sitting at the foot of B's bed for an additional 10 minutes so he'd stop crying and go to bed.
Where that's coming from, I have no idea.
They don't know it yet, but there won't be any video gaming or ipoding for the rest of the week, as a result of their behavior. I can't wait to be the bearer of bad news tomorrow...
All I know is, I had a delightful rum & coke, and I'm ready to go to bed at 9:24.
I'm pretty sure that's the most pathetic end of a sentence I've ever written...
Aubs
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
When it thunders, it snows?
When I woke up this morning, I heard thunder rumbling, and thought "Great. More rain." but when I looked outside, the parking lot looked slick, which solicited a "Crap." and rousing N with a little more gusto than necessary so I could go out to warm up the car. When I opened the door, all I saw was white. Snow? During an apparent thunderstorm? Apparently so. I ran down the stairs (yeah, I know) and started my car, then ran back up them. I live on the edge, what can I say?
When I was digging through the closets looking for N's heavy coat that he wears maybe once a year, I realized it wasn't there...so my kid who missed 3 days of school because he was sick went to school in jeans and a hoodie. He fought me on the jeans, even though he saw the snow, and I might've flipped out and said, "I don't freakin' care if you want to wear jeans or not. You're wearing them, now go put on a long sleeve shirt, your hoodie, and get your butt to the car." I might've used "mad mom voice" too. I might've also mentioned how I couldn't wait for the bus to come so I could go back to bed.
When we headed down the stairs, my footprints had already been covered by fresh snow. N started to say, "See, Mom, it's not that cold outside. I could've worn sho..." and trailed off when he got the death glare of the century, or at least I think he did. Snowflakes, big fluffy snowflakes, were blocking my vision. He left, I went back upstairs, crawled under the covers...and couldn't go back to sleep. I hate it when that happens. Luckily, I was totally dedicated to going back to sleep, and eventually managed to complete my task.
And, y'all? It was glorious.
After school, N asked where B was, and I told him he was coming home tomorrow instead. N expressed sadness about this, and I asked him if he was feeling bad again. It just slipped out. He said he even went by B's class on purpose today to say hi and to tell him he'd see him later. It made my heart jump and my eyes got a little bit wet at this OBVIOUS display of affection for a brother that he normally claims to despise. OR maybe he's just really tired of me. I'd probably go with that one.
An hour or so later, I get a call from B's dad, asking if B can go ahead and come home because he's crying and saying he misses his brother. What?! Seriously, at this point, I'm wondering if I'm in an episode of The Twilight Zone because not one, but BOTH boys have been complaining about missing each other? Call it a January 15 miracle if you want, but I agreed to have B come home and bet that they'd be arguing in less than 45 minutes. (It was 37 minutes, to be exact. I set a timer.)
After the "fun" wore off, B started crying again, and all of these things just started spilling out. He always says he misses his dad, so I acknowledge and move past it, but he was crying about baseball. Apparently, his dad & stepmom told him he couldn't play this spring, something we had originally agreed upon, because B? The kid needs a team sport to "ground" him a little bit. He's out of control.
I sat him down on the couch and asked him what he wanted to do. He said he would skip baseball this spring and play it later, and my heart broke. I told him to think about it, and if he really wanted to play, I'd make it happen. Y'all should've seen his little face light up. He threw his arms around my neck and jumped his bony little butt into my lap.
Such an easy fix to a problem that should have never existed...you can't sit a 7 year-old down and explain to them, in "kid friendly" grown-up terms, that they can't do something they've already been told they could do. Whether he claims to understand what you're saying or not, he doesn't. It just frustrates me to no end.
And it makes me mad. Oh man, does it make me mad. Both of my boys will play ball this spring, and I will drive myself insane doing double practice/double game duty, but I'll do it...because I have to, because it's important to both of them, and that makes it doubly important to me.
I know that, at some point, they will both recognize that I hate being the "bad guy" parent, the one who sets and enforces the rules, the one who disciplines, and the one who sticks to her guns. I know that, one day, they will appreciate the fact that I did punish them, but that I also loved them. And even though they don't see it now, their punishments are acts of love...because there are far too many kids out there who don't see any repercussions for the things they do. My kids may be wild and out of control from time to time, everyone is...but they know when I mean business, and they know if they do something wrong, they're suffering the consequences.
And if that's all they remember when they grow up, well, I'll take it...Anyone can be a pushover parent. It takes emotions of steel, a mend-able heart, and an unwavering love, among so many other things, to be a respected parent.
When they grow up, have families of their own, and see that parenting is a true labor of love, I hope they think of me.
Aubs
When I was digging through the closets looking for N's heavy coat that he wears maybe once a year, I realized it wasn't there...so my kid who missed 3 days of school because he was sick went to school in jeans and a hoodie. He fought me on the jeans, even though he saw the snow, and I might've flipped out and said, "I don't freakin' care if you want to wear jeans or not. You're wearing them, now go put on a long sleeve shirt, your hoodie, and get your butt to the car." I might've used "mad mom voice" too. I might've also mentioned how I couldn't wait for the bus to come so I could go back to bed.
When we headed down the stairs, my footprints had already been covered by fresh snow. N started to say, "See, Mom, it's not that cold outside. I could've worn sho..." and trailed off when he got the death glare of the century, or at least I think he did. Snowflakes, big fluffy snowflakes, were blocking my vision. He left, I went back upstairs, crawled under the covers...and couldn't go back to sleep. I hate it when that happens. Luckily, I was totally dedicated to going back to sleep, and eventually managed to complete my task.
And, y'all? It was glorious.
After school, N asked where B was, and I told him he was coming home tomorrow instead. N expressed sadness about this, and I asked him if he was feeling bad again. It just slipped out. He said he even went by B's class on purpose today to say hi and to tell him he'd see him later. It made my heart jump and my eyes got a little bit wet at this OBVIOUS display of affection for a brother that he normally claims to despise. OR maybe he's just really tired of me. I'd probably go with that one.
An hour or so later, I get a call from B's dad, asking if B can go ahead and come home because he's crying and saying he misses his brother. What?! Seriously, at this point, I'm wondering if I'm in an episode of The Twilight Zone because not one, but BOTH boys have been complaining about missing each other? Call it a January 15 miracle if you want, but I agreed to have B come home and bet that they'd be arguing in less than 45 minutes. (It was 37 minutes, to be exact. I set a timer.)
After the "fun" wore off, B started crying again, and all of these things just started spilling out. He always says he misses his dad, so I acknowledge and move past it, but he was crying about baseball. Apparently, his dad & stepmom told him he couldn't play this spring, something we had originally agreed upon, because B? The kid needs a team sport to "ground" him a little bit. He's out of control.
I sat him down on the couch and asked him what he wanted to do. He said he would skip baseball this spring and play it later, and my heart broke. I told him to think about it, and if he really wanted to play, I'd make it happen. Y'all should've seen his little face light up. He threw his arms around my neck and jumped his bony little butt into my lap.
Such an easy fix to a problem that should have never existed...you can't sit a 7 year-old down and explain to them, in "kid friendly" grown-up terms, that they can't do something they've already been told they could do. Whether he claims to understand what you're saying or not, he doesn't. It just frustrates me to no end.
And it makes me mad. Oh man, does it make me mad. Both of my boys will play ball this spring, and I will drive myself insane doing double practice/double game duty, but I'll do it...because I have to, because it's important to both of them, and that makes it doubly important to me.
I know that, at some point, they will both recognize that I hate being the "bad guy" parent, the one who sets and enforces the rules, the one who disciplines, and the one who sticks to her guns. I know that, one day, they will appreciate the fact that I did punish them, but that I also loved them. And even though they don't see it now, their punishments are acts of love...because there are far too many kids out there who don't see any repercussions for the things they do. My kids may be wild and out of control from time to time, everyone is...but they know when I mean business, and they know if they do something wrong, they're suffering the consequences.
And if that's all they remember when they grow up, well, I'll take it...Anyone can be a pushover parent. It takes emotions of steel, a mend-able heart, and an unwavering love, among so many other things, to be a respected parent.
When they grow up, have families of their own, and see that parenting is a true labor of love, I hope they think of me.
Aubs
Monday, January 14, 2013
Make up work is sooooooo much fun!
N ended up staying home one more day because he wasn't too steady on his feet, and he had a funky cough that kept him tossing and turning for most of the night. I went to wake him up to go to school anyway, but then I had pity on him. Plus, it was really cold outside this morning, and I was dang cozy under my covers. I don't typically condone that kind of logic, but did I mention it was really cold this morning, and my car wasn't parked anywhere remotely close to my door?
I'm sure that totally makes it more reasonable.
Anyway, I went to pick up some of N's make up work this afternoon, and on the way out, the principal caught up to me and asked me how N was feeling. Please note that I've met the principal one time, on "Meet the Teacher" night, (we had exchanged emails prior to that, but never spoken) and when I gave him my name, he immediately knew the boys' names and their grades. It just warms my heart to know that my boys are in a school where the staff takes time to get to know them because they WANT to, and not because they're in trouble all the time...because they're not. They seem to save getting in trouble for at home. I'm so lucky!
After I got back from picking up his make up work, we started working on it, and I felt a quick moment of panic when I saw a math worksheet. Math has never been my favorite. Ever. It never will be, and I will feel extremely sorry for my boys when their levels of math comprehension surpass my own. I'm pretty sure it'll happen...if it doesn't, well, that would just be a little pathetic. Luckily, it was only a "Correct and Return" paper, and it was one simple mistake that he made repeatedly. I can handle simple mistakes...as long as I can figure them out.
N decided he wanted to go to Gamestop, and I wasn't in agreement...so he hovered. And he hovered. And he hovered a little bit more. He didn't ask, because he knows better, but he just stood there and looked at me. Finally, as I was about to burst from holding in my laughter for so long, this exchange occurred:
N: Please, Mom? Can we go somewhere...anywhere?
Me: Sure, Nolan. Would you like to go underwear shopping with me, or maybe dress shopping? Oh, I need some cute new shoes. How about that?
N (death glare): NEVERMIND. We always do what you want to do.
Me: Funny how that works...I'm the one with the car. You're the one that's 10. Okay, then.
N: This sucks!
Me: Don't say sucks.
N: I'm so bored.
Me: If you don't find something to do, I can find something for you...and I guarantee you won't like it.
And, as N stomped off to his room to find something to do, I realized I had turned into my parents...and then I laughed at myself because, if you can't laugh at yourself, you have no sense of humor.
Later, I made dinner and he came into the kitchen as I was finishing, and this exchange occurred:
N: You didn't wash the dirty clothes, did you?
Me: Do you want to ask me politely instead of being a jerk?
N: Mom, did you find time to wash the dark clothes, or do I need to figure out how to start the washing machine?
Me: Better, but I'd cut the smart-ass level in half if you want a real response...but yes, I did wash the dark clothes.
(a few minutes later)
N: No you didn't! My jersey and DCE shorts are still dirty.
Me: Uh, you mean the clothes you were wearing when you were sick? Those? The ones you took off and shoved under your bed? I already told you...I'll do the laundry if it's in the right place, but I'm not going on a dirty clothes hunt, and I'm DEFINITELY not digging under your bed. It smells weird.
N: Mom, I need these for tomorrow.
Me: Dude, I can wash them. Chill. You're driving me nuts.
So, I started the laundry and we sat down to eat dinner, and that's when the fun began:
Me: So...you know you're not wearing shorts to school tomorrow, right?
N: MOOOOOOOOOOOOM! I hate jeans. They feel weird, and my legs never get cold.
Me: Let me be clear. I. Don't. Care. You just missed 3 days of school being sick. You were in bed for 5 days straight. You're not wearing shorts to school. Why don't I just make you a sign saying, "Hey pneumonia, let's be friends!"
N: I don't even know what that means, but it gets hot at recess.
Me: It doesn't get hot at recess when it's 30 something degrees. Nice try. You're wearing jeans.
N: I should be allowed to make my own clothing choices.
Me: Right, I agree...but not when you're unreasonable. And you're being unreasonable. It's W-I-N-T-E-R. It's cold. It's flu season. You're not wearing shorts. The end.
N: I hate my life.
Me: No, you just hate being 10. It's cool...you'll be 11 in August, and we'll do the same thing, only maybe you'll be more interested in the breakaway pants I offered to buy you in October.
N: Yeah, let's go do that now.
Me: Oh, no...That's a one-time deal bud. I offered, you said it was a dumb idea...idea's off the table. No problem.
N: I hate that.
Me: Yeah, but maybe you'll learn...
You'd think the fun would end there...but it didn't. Isn't life at my house so exciting?! After that, I offered to play Super Nintendo with him for a little bit because he's been so bored in his room, recovering from whatever it was that he had. So, we're playing Super Mario World, and I have 90s country going on Pandora. N is not a country fan. I'm not sure where that came from, but all other signs point to him being my child, so I'll deal with it. We played for a while, and I sang along to all of the songs, and then he said it was lame and didn't want to play anymore. Obviously, playing iconic games with your mom is not nearly as fun as blowing people up on the Xbox. Anyway, "This Kiss" was on, and apparently N wasn't a fan. He turned the volume up on the tv to drown out Faith Hill singing her precious little heart out about this super amazing kiss...and then he started gagging, claiming he was going to throw up.
I love mature 10 year olds. I also think he should be grounded on principle. He didn't like my stint with "my" song by Bread, "Aubrey." It's a super sweet song, but the singer does sound kind of ghost-like...I will give N that one. He said, "Mom, it sounds like that guy is haunting people." and I said, "You mean, kinda like I haunt you all the time?"
"Oh crap."
It's been quite a day. Now he's in bed, and his book for school is STILL under the couch, even though I told him to get it out from under there no less than 8 times...and his ipod is on the floor in the living room too. I think I'll confiscate it.
You know, and then haunt him with it later.
Just because I can.
Aubs
I'm sure that totally makes it more reasonable.
Anyway, I went to pick up some of N's make up work this afternoon, and on the way out, the principal caught up to me and asked me how N was feeling. Please note that I've met the principal one time, on "Meet the Teacher" night, (we had exchanged emails prior to that, but never spoken) and when I gave him my name, he immediately knew the boys' names and their grades. It just warms my heart to know that my boys are in a school where the staff takes time to get to know them because they WANT to, and not because they're in trouble all the time...because they're not. They seem to save getting in trouble for at home. I'm so lucky!
After I got back from picking up his make up work, we started working on it, and I felt a quick moment of panic when I saw a math worksheet. Math has never been my favorite. Ever. It never will be, and I will feel extremely sorry for my boys when their levels of math comprehension surpass my own. I'm pretty sure it'll happen...if it doesn't, well, that would just be a little pathetic. Luckily, it was only a "Correct and Return" paper, and it was one simple mistake that he made repeatedly. I can handle simple mistakes...as long as I can figure them out.
N decided he wanted to go to Gamestop, and I wasn't in agreement...so he hovered. And he hovered. And he hovered a little bit more. He didn't ask, because he knows better, but he just stood there and looked at me. Finally, as I was about to burst from holding in my laughter for so long, this exchange occurred:
N: Please, Mom? Can we go somewhere...anywhere?
Me: Sure, Nolan. Would you like to go underwear shopping with me, or maybe dress shopping? Oh, I need some cute new shoes. How about that?
N (death glare): NEVERMIND. We always do what you want to do.
Me: Funny how that works...I'm the one with the car. You're the one that's 10. Okay, then.
N: This sucks!
Me: Don't say sucks.
N: I'm so bored.
Me: If you don't find something to do, I can find something for you...and I guarantee you won't like it.
And, as N stomped off to his room to find something to do, I realized I had turned into my parents...and then I laughed at myself because, if you can't laugh at yourself, you have no sense of humor.
Later, I made dinner and he came into the kitchen as I was finishing, and this exchange occurred:
N: You didn't wash the dirty clothes, did you?
Me: Do you want to ask me politely instead of being a jerk?
N: Mom, did you find time to wash the dark clothes, or do I need to figure out how to start the washing machine?
Me: Better, but I'd cut the smart-ass level in half if you want a real response...but yes, I did wash the dark clothes.
(a few minutes later)
N: No you didn't! My jersey and DCE shorts are still dirty.
Me: Uh, you mean the clothes you were wearing when you were sick? Those? The ones you took off and shoved under your bed? I already told you...I'll do the laundry if it's in the right place, but I'm not going on a dirty clothes hunt, and I'm DEFINITELY not digging under your bed. It smells weird.
N: Mom, I need these for tomorrow.
Me: Dude, I can wash them. Chill. You're driving me nuts.
So, I started the laundry and we sat down to eat dinner, and that's when the fun began:
Me: So...you know you're not wearing shorts to school tomorrow, right?
N: MOOOOOOOOOOOOM! I hate jeans. They feel weird, and my legs never get cold.
Me: Let me be clear. I. Don't. Care. You just missed 3 days of school being sick. You were in bed for 5 days straight. You're not wearing shorts to school. Why don't I just make you a sign saying, "Hey pneumonia, let's be friends!"
N: I don't even know what that means, but it gets hot at recess.
Me: It doesn't get hot at recess when it's 30 something degrees. Nice try. You're wearing jeans.
N: I should be allowed to make my own clothing choices.
Me: Right, I agree...but not when you're unreasonable. And you're being unreasonable. It's W-I-N-T-E-R. It's cold. It's flu season. You're not wearing shorts. The end.
N: I hate my life.
Me: No, you just hate being 10. It's cool...you'll be 11 in August, and we'll do the same thing, only maybe you'll be more interested in the breakaway pants I offered to buy you in October.
N: Yeah, let's go do that now.
Me: Oh, no...That's a one-time deal bud. I offered, you said it was a dumb idea...idea's off the table. No problem.
N: I hate that.
Me: Yeah, but maybe you'll learn...
You'd think the fun would end there...but it didn't. Isn't life at my house so exciting?! After that, I offered to play Super Nintendo with him for a little bit because he's been so bored in his room, recovering from whatever it was that he had. So, we're playing Super Mario World, and I have 90s country going on Pandora. N is not a country fan. I'm not sure where that came from, but all other signs point to him being my child, so I'll deal with it. We played for a while, and I sang along to all of the songs, and then he said it was lame and didn't want to play anymore. Obviously, playing iconic games with your mom is not nearly as fun as blowing people up on the Xbox. Anyway, "This Kiss" was on, and apparently N wasn't a fan. He turned the volume up on the tv to drown out Faith Hill singing her precious little heart out about this super amazing kiss...and then he started gagging, claiming he was going to throw up.
I love mature 10 year olds. I also think he should be grounded on principle. He didn't like my stint with "my" song by Bread, "Aubrey." It's a super sweet song, but the singer does sound kind of ghost-like...I will give N that one. He said, "Mom, it sounds like that guy is haunting people." and I said, "You mean, kinda like I haunt you all the time?"
"Oh crap."
It's been quite a day. Now he's in bed, and his book for school is STILL under the couch, even though I told him to get it out from under there no less than 8 times...and his ipod is on the floor in the living room too. I think I'll confiscate it.
You know, and then haunt him with it later.
Just because I can.
Aubs
The repercussions of being sick
Being sick is not fun, but it's nice to not have to worry about a specific bedtime or a certain agenda. Right? Right. That's all well and good until the sickness comes to an end and you have to face reality that it's almost Monday morning.
When you have to go back to 5th grade on Monday morning and you don't wake up until almost 1:00 pm, chances are, you're going to have a hard time going to bed when your mom sends you to bed at 8:30. And when you get up, claiming you can't sleep, she's not going to feel badly for you. Instead, she's going to tell you to go back into your room, get in bed, close your eyes, and just be quiet and still until you fall asleep. And she's probably going to tell you that the other three times you get up with the same story.
Consistency is key.
Also, I foresee a really great conversation in the morning over N's wardrobe choices...and by "great," I potentially mean a screaming match at 6:24 in the morning. Nevermind that it will be 20 something degrees in the morning, N will want to wear shorts...and a hoodie. And that just won't work for me for a variety of reasons, so I have implemented these rules:
1. I have implemented a jeans rule if the temperature will not hit 50.
2. Jeans will also be worn if the temperature is freezing or below freezing in the morning.
3. Heavy coats will be worn if the temperature is freezing or below freezing in the morning.
4. Mom gets total veto power over clothing choices...especially if matching (or more often mis-matching) comes into play. This one is valid regardless of temperature.
5. Arguing will get you grounded.
I have explained time and time again, that I do not care if your heavy coat is a pain...at least it keeps you from getting sick. And speaking of getting sick, you just missed half of the week with a crazy high temperature....so why in the heck would I let N wear shorts? Oh, that's right. I won't. And I find a slight joy in the fact that, if it does warm up, the coat is too big to shove into his backpack without ripping it.
And he's already on his second backpack of the school year.
And he's already asking if he can go to basketball practice tomorrow...nevermind the fact that he has a crazy cough. I even asked him if he wanted to go back to school tomorrow, or if he wanted another day at home to rest. He asked to go back to school, and it makes me think maybe I HAVE done something right...
Or maybe he's just tired of being stuck in his room...
Aubs
When you have to go back to 5th grade on Monday morning and you don't wake up until almost 1:00 pm, chances are, you're going to have a hard time going to bed when your mom sends you to bed at 8:30. And when you get up, claiming you can't sleep, she's not going to feel badly for you. Instead, she's going to tell you to go back into your room, get in bed, close your eyes, and just be quiet and still until you fall asleep. And she's probably going to tell you that the other three times you get up with the same story.
Consistency is key.
Also, I foresee a really great conversation in the morning over N's wardrobe choices...and by "great," I potentially mean a screaming match at 6:24 in the morning. Nevermind that it will be 20 something degrees in the morning, N will want to wear shorts...and a hoodie. And that just won't work for me for a variety of reasons, so I have implemented these rules:
1. I have implemented a jeans rule if the temperature will not hit 50.
2. Jeans will also be worn if the temperature is freezing or below freezing in the morning.
3. Heavy coats will be worn if the temperature is freezing or below freezing in the morning.
4. Mom gets total veto power over clothing choices...especially if matching (or more often mis-matching) comes into play. This one is valid regardless of temperature.
5. Arguing will get you grounded.
I have explained time and time again, that I do not care if your heavy coat is a pain...at least it keeps you from getting sick. And speaking of getting sick, you just missed half of the week with a crazy high temperature....so why in the heck would I let N wear shorts? Oh, that's right. I won't. And I find a slight joy in the fact that, if it does warm up, the coat is too big to shove into his backpack without ripping it.
And he's already on his second backpack of the school year.
And he's already asking if he can go to basketball practice tomorrow...nevermind the fact that he has a crazy cough. I even asked him if he wanted to go back to school tomorrow, or if he wanted another day at home to rest. He asked to go back to school, and it makes me think maybe I HAVE done something right...
Or maybe he's just tired of being stuck in his room...
Aubs
Saturday, January 12, 2013
In jammies by 6pm
Sometimes you just need a day like that. N and I woke up around noon (fever free!), and I changed into fresh pjs roughly 6 hours later. He's stayed pretty much near "normal" all day, so I feel like I can say we're on the tail end of this whatever it was.
I can't call it the flu...but it was something special.
We were just lazy today, the way sick/recovery days should be. Movies, a few snacks (his appetite still isn't up to par) and a lot of lounging. I told him he needs to get up and move around, but he claims his legs don't want to work. They better get moving...otherwise it's going to be really hard to climb the stairs to his classroom on Monday morning.
Barring any disaster or relapse, he WILL be at school on Monday morning, although I'm not so sure about basketball practice. That might be a bit much. I'm almost sad that I missed the "pep talk" after the game today. Almost...but not quite.
Now, I'm curling up with a cup of peppermint tea and a Doris Day movie..."Pillow Talk" if you must know. It's a classic. Doris Day was quite the classy broad.
So, I've been doing this squat challenge for the past couple of weeks or so and I'm roughly halfway through it. I wanted to try it because a) I'm always up for a challenge, b) the super-hot Fireman climb is a couple of weeks away (I added the "super-hot" to that because...well, yeah), and c) I haven't worked out steadily in months.
Maybe it's not the best choice while my back is still recovering, but I was already 10 days into it when I made a poor choice. To start over would be totally counter-productive. Besides...my thighs like it when I do squats.
I called my mom tonight and told her how I could see and feel changed, and it made her more optimistic, too. I've forwarded it to several of my friends, and B does them with me when he's at home. If anyone wants it, just let me know. I'll just say, if I end up with a rear end like the "after" picture on this challenge, I will squat every single day for the rest of my life.
True Story.
Aubs
I can't call it the flu...but it was something special.
We were just lazy today, the way sick/recovery days should be. Movies, a few snacks (his appetite still isn't up to par) and a lot of lounging. I told him he needs to get up and move around, but he claims his legs don't want to work. They better get moving...otherwise it's going to be really hard to climb the stairs to his classroom on Monday morning.
Barring any disaster or relapse, he WILL be at school on Monday morning, although I'm not so sure about basketball practice. That might be a bit much. I'm almost sad that I missed the "pep talk" after the game today. Almost...but not quite.
Now, I'm curling up with a cup of peppermint tea and a Doris Day movie..."Pillow Talk" if you must know. It's a classic. Doris Day was quite the classy broad.
So, I've been doing this squat challenge for the past couple of weeks or so and I'm roughly halfway through it. I wanted to try it because a) I'm always up for a challenge, b) the super-hot Fireman climb is a couple of weeks away (I added the "super-hot" to that because...well, yeah), and c) I haven't worked out steadily in months.
Maybe it's not the best choice while my back is still recovering, but I was already 10 days into it when I made a poor choice. To start over would be totally counter-productive. Besides...my thighs like it when I do squats.
I called my mom tonight and told her how I could see and feel changed, and it made her more optimistic, too. I've forwarded it to several of my friends, and B does them with me when he's at home. If anyone wants it, just let me know. I'll just say, if I end up with a rear end like the "after" picture on this challenge, I will squat every single day for the rest of my life.
True Story.
Aubs
Sick Day 2.5
So, we're on the third say of being sick...and it's so funny to watch him be all, "Mom, I'm way better!" and then an hour later, "Mom...I feel like crap." Ahhh, the greatness of fever reducers!
He did eat today, so that was an added bonus. He ate waffles, and then I got him Chick-Fil-A for dinner. On my drive, I heard two of my favorite songs: "Fool Hearted Memory" by George Strait, and "Then" by Brad Paisley.
Have you heard "Then?" It's such a sweet song...I just kind of adore it a little bit. I've been blasting iheart radio for most of the afternoon/evening. A friend of mine posted on his Facebook wall today that he would give $20 to whomever could guess what song was running through his head.
Y'all know I'm persistent...so I narrowed down the category, and guessed him to death. I ended up getting it right ("Shine" by Collective Soul), so I returned the favor. It took him FOREVER to guess Weezer: "Buddy Holly." Who doesn't get that song stuck in their head when they hear it?
You're welcome!
Tomorrow will be an 80s country song. I had one in my head, but wanted to make sure it was within the guidelines of being an 80s song. It wasn't...neither was the next one, or the one after that, or the one after that. Each one was on one side of the line or the other. As a result, my song is a fairly easy one if you know me at all. Luckily, he doesn't! :)
It's given me some entertainment today, while I've been stuck at home with N, and for that, I'm ridiculously grateful!
Plus, I won $20! Total win!
I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I am totally in love with "Baby Lips" by Maybelline. A friend of mine brought me some in a goodie bag when B was in the hospital in August...and since then, I've bought a ton of it even though I still have the "Peach Kiss" that she gave me. It's probably the best stuff for lips ever. Like Chapstick, only silkier somehow. I don't know, all I know is that if I don't have it on, it feels weird.
That was almost informercialish, but whatever. It's THAT good.
Also, my Soul Sister went dress shopping for her wedding dress tonight. Her mom sent me pictures, and it's entirely possible that she found "the one." Well, obviously she found "the one" 'cause she's marrying him, but "the one" dress, too. It looks so great on her! I would've done anything to be there in person, but it was so great to be able to see pictures instead of having to wait until May to see it. She hasn't said "Yes" to the dress yet, but it could be it. People should NOT enter into these kinds of decisions (or any big decision for that matter) lightly.
Wow. Buzzkill.
I'm going to watch True Lies now, and layer on Baby Lips...
Which, if you think about it, kinda makes me like the stalker creep in "Billy Madison" only I'm possibly a teency bit cuter and I (ideally) look better with lipstick/lipgloss on, you know, since I'm a girl and all...
Aubs
He did eat today, so that was an added bonus. He ate waffles, and then I got him Chick-Fil-A for dinner. On my drive, I heard two of my favorite songs: "Fool Hearted Memory" by George Strait, and "Then" by Brad Paisley.
Have you heard "Then?" It's such a sweet song...I just kind of adore it a little bit. I've been blasting iheart radio for most of the afternoon/evening. A friend of mine posted on his Facebook wall today that he would give $20 to whomever could guess what song was running through his head.
Y'all know I'm persistent...so I narrowed down the category, and guessed him to death. I ended up getting it right ("Shine" by Collective Soul), so I returned the favor. It took him FOREVER to guess Weezer: "Buddy Holly." Who doesn't get that song stuck in their head when they hear it?
You're welcome!
Tomorrow will be an 80s country song. I had one in my head, but wanted to make sure it was within the guidelines of being an 80s song. It wasn't...neither was the next one, or the one after that, or the one after that. Each one was on one side of the line or the other. As a result, my song is a fairly easy one if you know me at all. Luckily, he doesn't! :)
It's given me some entertainment today, while I've been stuck at home with N, and for that, I'm ridiculously grateful!
Plus, I won $20! Total win!
I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I am totally in love with "Baby Lips" by Maybelline. A friend of mine brought me some in a goodie bag when B was in the hospital in August...and since then, I've bought a ton of it even though I still have the "Peach Kiss" that she gave me. It's probably the best stuff for lips ever. Like Chapstick, only silkier somehow. I don't know, all I know is that if I don't have it on, it feels weird.
That was almost informercialish, but whatever. It's THAT good.
Also, my Soul Sister went dress shopping for her wedding dress tonight. Her mom sent me pictures, and it's entirely possible that she found "the one." Well, obviously she found "the one" 'cause she's marrying him, but "the one" dress, too. It looks so great on her! I would've done anything to be there in person, but it was so great to be able to see pictures instead of having to wait until May to see it. She hasn't said "Yes" to the dress yet, but it could be it. People should NOT enter into these kinds of decisions (or any big decision for that matter) lightly.
Wow. Buzzkill.
I'm going to watch True Lies now, and layer on Baby Lips...
Which, if you think about it, kinda makes me like the stalker creep in "Billy Madison" only I'm possibly a teency bit cuter and I (ideally) look better with lipstick/lipgloss on, you know, since I'm a girl and all...
Aubs
Friday, January 11, 2013
Sick days are NOT the best
For the most part today, N was pretty much out of it. He slept for most of the day, his temperature skyrocketed to 103.6, then dropped to 99.9. He was up and down for most of the day. I made him rest, and he willingly slept. That's how I know he's really sick.
Around 2:00, I knew I had to do something to get his temperature down, and I needed to get a book from school so he could be caught up when he returns next week, so I left him resting and went to Walgreens, school, and Market Street.
Obviously, this is entirely fascinating to everyone. I was stuck at home with a sick kid. I'm sorry I don't have better stories to tell.
Side note: Blue Bell Fruit Bars? They're kinda good. I can't speak for any other flavors, but the peach? It really does taste like a peach. Yes, I know they're made with real fruit, but it actually tastes fruit-ish, which was an added bonus.
N spoke highly of the strawberry. I could tell he felt a little better because he was laughing while watching Scooby Doo. I told him to enjoy it while it lasted...and sure enough, an hour or so later, he said, "Mom, I feel hot again."
Well, hello there 103.2. We didn't really miss you. Grrrr...
Aside from my quick trip into "normal, healthy land" I've been at home, steering clear of my sick kid. I might've said I would throw myself a parade if I didn't get this junk, and (not so surprisingly) several people seem to be on board for this event. I can't see how it wouldn't be fun...
To wrap up my night, I spent a few hours talking to my Twinkie and a friend she introduced me to. I appreciate good conversation, and someone who can keep up with my antics, so thanks!
I should probably start disinfecting everything tomorrow. That's my least favorite part about having a sick kid.
Also, my Soul Sister is going wedding dress shopping tomorrow night, and since I live in Texas and she lives in Arizona, I obviously can't go...MAJOR bummer. I'm looking forward to updates, pictures, and a phone call complete with squeals saying she found "THE ONE!"
Who wouldn't love to get a phone call like that?
Aubs
Around 2:00, I knew I had to do something to get his temperature down, and I needed to get a book from school so he could be caught up when he returns next week, so I left him resting and went to Walgreens, school, and Market Street.
Obviously, this is entirely fascinating to everyone. I was stuck at home with a sick kid. I'm sorry I don't have better stories to tell.
Side note: Blue Bell Fruit Bars? They're kinda good. I can't speak for any other flavors, but the peach? It really does taste like a peach. Yes, I know they're made with real fruit, but it actually tastes fruit-ish, which was an added bonus.
N spoke highly of the strawberry. I could tell he felt a little better because he was laughing while watching Scooby Doo. I told him to enjoy it while it lasted...and sure enough, an hour or so later, he said, "Mom, I feel hot again."
Well, hello there 103.2. We didn't really miss you. Grrrr...
Aside from my quick trip into "normal, healthy land" I've been at home, steering clear of my sick kid. I might've said I would throw myself a parade if I didn't get this junk, and (not so surprisingly) several people seem to be on board for this event. I can't see how it wouldn't be fun...
To wrap up my night, I spent a few hours talking to my Twinkie and a friend she introduced me to. I appreciate good conversation, and someone who can keep up with my antics, so thanks!
I should probably start disinfecting everything tomorrow. That's my least favorite part about having a sick kid.
Also, my Soul Sister is going wedding dress shopping tomorrow night, and since I live in Texas and she lives in Arizona, I obviously can't go...MAJOR bummer. I'm looking forward to updates, pictures, and a phone call complete with squeals saying she found "THE ONE!"
Who wouldn't love to get a phone call like that?
Aubs
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Here we go...
This morning was a rough one. I only have N this week, and the weeks when it's just the two of us are pretty low key. Not today.
Let me backtrack by explaining that yesterday, he went over to a friend's house after he did his homework. The friend is a good kid, his mom was very nice, and he didn't stay that long on his first visit. He was invited back anytime, which makes me feel like I did something right as a parent. All of that? Totally fine.
We got home, he ate some dinner, and then he played on his ipod/watched tv for the rest of the evening because I'm totally gearing up for "Mom of the Year" nominations already. I told him it was time for bed, and he knows what that means: brush teeth, turn off tv, dock ipod, etc. I walked in to tell him "goodnight" 15 minutes later, and his little face was lit up by his ipod screen.
Extremely bad judgement call.
He claimed he was just seeing if his friend (who he'd spent the afternoon with) had text him back. I calmly walked over and extended my hand. He freaked out on me, but I didn't feel bad. He knows the rules. Bedtime does not equate to "Oh, but let me just see if he text me back because it was important..."
I hardly think the response to "What's up?" is worthy of being important, but maybe it's just me. I told him he would be grounded from his ipod today, and went on my merry way. I don't know why, but I expected this morning to be sunshine and happy faces.
Newsflash: When I woke up this morning, it was pouring. Still. I went to wake N up, and he was dragging...like, it took him well over 15 minutes to put on shorts, a t-shirt, and a jersey. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but it also took an extra 10 minutes to get him out of bed. Somehow, we made it to the bus stop on time, but he had a crappy attitude. I chalked it up to the rain and being tired, and told him I'd see him after school with a better attitude. I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes, but it was dark and my eyes were only a little openish, so I could be wrong. I bet I'm not.
I went home and went back to bed. Why? Because I can. And because my sleep was constantly interrupted last night as I fought to find a comfortable position. This whole left side/back thing has made me super aware of how much I move around at night. No wonder I sleep alone...okay, that's one of MANY reasons I sleep alone.
We'll just leave that alone for now, okay? Thanks.
N walked in the door after school, and the first words out of his mouth were, "I thought I saw you at the bus stop with an umbrella, but obviously it wasn't you. Thanks."
Oh yay! I was hoping for an afternoon just like this. Maybe we could top it off with a poke in the eye or a trip down the stairs, just for fun? Sounds super!
He told me that his friend invited him over again, and walked over to his ipod, only to stop abruptly and thank me (so kindly) for grounding him from his ipod so he couldn't text his friend. I guess the thought never occurred to him to ask if he could use my phone.
It doesn't matter, I would've said "no" anyway. Why? I'm also hustling nominations for "Meanest Mom of the Year" because I like to keep things interesting. I'm pretty sure I have that one in the bag.
He did his homework without complaint, aside from the fact that he was REALLY upset that he couldn't find a brown colored pencil. Obviously, not being able to locate a brown colored pencil is a complete travesty, however, when he melted down over that, it should've been my first clue.
I remained clueless until he copped an attitude and started yelling. I told him he needed to respect me and all that was going to do was get him in more trouble. He wouldn't stop, so I grounded him from going to his friend's house tomorrow. That REALLY pissed him off. He stepped it up a few notches, so I did, too.
Grounded for a week. Wanna keep going? I can do this all day. And when he yelled that he hated his life and I made him an angry child and followed it with a kick to the wall, I very calmly said, "Okay, two weeks it is."
What happened next, I find difficult to describe. I hear lots of thumping and bumping and muttering coming from his room, followed by "Ow" on repeat in varying volume levels of hurt/anger. He comes back in, clutching his chest, saying it hurts. He's pulled this dramatic move before, so I simply told him I knew what it was. "No, N, it's NOT a heart attack...it's all the meanness inside you, trying to bust out."
Oh, man! He hated that answer. So much! He stomped back into his room, slamming into the wall for effect. I followed him as far as the laundry room to start a load of laundry, and told him to do his part and collect his clothes from this morning out of the bathroom. He refused. Solidly. I told him he would do it, or his consequences would be far greater...and that he was seriously starting to piss me off.
He threw the clothes in the washing machine, and I told him he needed to go ahead and go to bed. The time? Approximately 3:55. After I loaded the washing machine, I wandered around for a few minutes before I went in there. He was sobbing, and curled up in the fetal position.
Then, things started to click. I was being calm in explaining why he was being punished and he was being over the top about how he was the worst kid ever and he always does the wrong thing because he's evil and so on and so forth. I told him he wasn't, that everyday he has the choice to be kind or to be ugly, and that he's ugly to me and to his brother entirely too often. He started crying even harder, and that's when I asked him what was going on.
"Is something going on at school? You're NEVER like this unless there's something seriously bothering you. You have to tell me so we can get through this together."
He assured me there was nothing going on at school, that it had only been 3 days since they'd been back, so I moved to sit on his bed to brush his hair out of his eyes.
And that's when I felt his forehead. And that's when it all made total sense. He was warm, too warm. He's my healthy kid. I can literally count on one hand the number of times he's been sick-sick and had to miss school. Each time he gets that sick, he turns into my own personal form of Satan. Laugh if you want, but it's true. And it sucks, because he isn't used to feeling puny and having to be still and rest. That's B's job...and he doesn't do it very well either.
I took his temperature, then gave him some meds, Gatorade, a box of tissues, and the remote control. A few hours later, I made him some eggs, gave him some ginger ale, and checked his temperature again. Higher. More meds, an email to his teacher, and three rounds of applesauce later, there was still no change. I put him to bed with a bottle of water and some cold/flu meds, and we'll see how it goes.
And immediately, my brain started telling me that my throat hurts. My brain THINKS it's going to psych me into feeling sick, but I'm not falling for it. I did, however, just knock on the coffee table and end table for good measure.
So, I'm turning off my alarm for tomorrow morning, and me and my biggest boy are sleeping in. Thankfully, I'm still at home for the time being. It would be a nightmare if I were working right this moment.
And can I just say how grateful I am for the people in my corner who are there to help me and support me every step of the way? I don't say it often enough, but Mom, Dad, Katie, and David? I'd be lost with out you. Thank you for being there no matter what.
Oh, and you, too June, my niece-dog. Since Lacey's gone, I guess you can be the best now...even though you do like to try to bite B's face off.
Then again, if I were you, I'd probably want to do that, too...
Aubs
Let me backtrack by explaining that yesterday, he went over to a friend's house after he did his homework. The friend is a good kid, his mom was very nice, and he didn't stay that long on his first visit. He was invited back anytime, which makes me feel like I did something right as a parent. All of that? Totally fine.
We got home, he ate some dinner, and then he played on his ipod/watched tv for the rest of the evening because I'm totally gearing up for "Mom of the Year" nominations already. I told him it was time for bed, and he knows what that means: brush teeth, turn off tv, dock ipod, etc. I walked in to tell him "goodnight" 15 minutes later, and his little face was lit up by his ipod screen.
Extremely bad judgement call.
He claimed he was just seeing if his friend (who he'd spent the afternoon with) had text him back. I calmly walked over and extended my hand. He freaked out on me, but I didn't feel bad. He knows the rules. Bedtime does not equate to "Oh, but let me just see if he text me back because it was important..."
I hardly think the response to "What's up?" is worthy of being important, but maybe it's just me. I told him he would be grounded from his ipod today, and went on my merry way. I don't know why, but I expected this morning to be sunshine and happy faces.
Newsflash: When I woke up this morning, it was pouring. Still. I went to wake N up, and he was dragging...like, it took him well over 15 minutes to put on shorts, a t-shirt, and a jersey. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but it also took an extra 10 minutes to get him out of bed. Somehow, we made it to the bus stop on time, but he had a crappy attitude. I chalked it up to the rain and being tired, and told him I'd see him after school with a better attitude. I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes, but it was dark and my eyes were only a little openish, so I could be wrong. I bet I'm not.
I went home and went back to bed. Why? Because I can. And because my sleep was constantly interrupted last night as I fought to find a comfortable position. This whole left side/back thing has made me super aware of how much I move around at night. No wonder I sleep alone...okay, that's one of MANY reasons I sleep alone.
We'll just leave that alone for now, okay? Thanks.
N walked in the door after school, and the first words out of his mouth were, "I thought I saw you at the bus stop with an umbrella, but obviously it wasn't you. Thanks."
Oh yay! I was hoping for an afternoon just like this. Maybe we could top it off with a poke in the eye or a trip down the stairs, just for fun? Sounds super!
He told me that his friend invited him over again, and walked over to his ipod, only to stop abruptly and thank me (so kindly) for grounding him from his ipod so he couldn't text his friend. I guess the thought never occurred to him to ask if he could use my phone.
It doesn't matter, I would've said "no" anyway. Why? I'm also hustling nominations for "Meanest Mom of the Year" because I like to keep things interesting. I'm pretty sure I have that one in the bag.
He did his homework without complaint, aside from the fact that he was REALLY upset that he couldn't find a brown colored pencil. Obviously, not being able to locate a brown colored pencil is a complete travesty, however, when he melted down over that, it should've been my first clue.
I remained clueless until he copped an attitude and started yelling. I told him he needed to respect me and all that was going to do was get him in more trouble. He wouldn't stop, so I grounded him from going to his friend's house tomorrow. That REALLY pissed him off. He stepped it up a few notches, so I did, too.
Grounded for a week. Wanna keep going? I can do this all day. And when he yelled that he hated his life and I made him an angry child and followed it with a kick to the wall, I very calmly said, "Okay, two weeks it is."
What happened next, I find difficult to describe. I hear lots of thumping and bumping and muttering coming from his room, followed by "Ow" on repeat in varying volume levels of hurt/anger. He comes back in, clutching his chest, saying it hurts. He's pulled this dramatic move before, so I simply told him I knew what it was. "No, N, it's NOT a heart attack...it's all the meanness inside you, trying to bust out."
Oh, man! He hated that answer. So much! He stomped back into his room, slamming into the wall for effect. I followed him as far as the laundry room to start a load of laundry, and told him to do his part and collect his clothes from this morning out of the bathroom. He refused. Solidly. I told him he would do it, or his consequences would be far greater...and that he was seriously starting to piss me off.
He threw the clothes in the washing machine, and I told him he needed to go ahead and go to bed. The time? Approximately 3:55. After I loaded the washing machine, I wandered around for a few minutes before I went in there. He was sobbing, and curled up in the fetal position.
Then, things started to click. I was being calm in explaining why he was being punished and he was being over the top about how he was the worst kid ever and he always does the wrong thing because he's evil and so on and so forth. I told him he wasn't, that everyday he has the choice to be kind or to be ugly, and that he's ugly to me and to his brother entirely too often. He started crying even harder, and that's when I asked him what was going on.
"Is something going on at school? You're NEVER like this unless there's something seriously bothering you. You have to tell me so we can get through this together."
He assured me there was nothing going on at school, that it had only been 3 days since they'd been back, so I moved to sit on his bed to brush his hair out of his eyes.
And that's when I felt his forehead. And that's when it all made total sense. He was warm, too warm. He's my healthy kid. I can literally count on one hand the number of times he's been sick-sick and had to miss school. Each time he gets that sick, he turns into my own personal form of Satan. Laugh if you want, but it's true. And it sucks, because he isn't used to feeling puny and having to be still and rest. That's B's job...and he doesn't do it very well either.
I took his temperature, then gave him some meds, Gatorade, a box of tissues, and the remote control. A few hours later, I made him some eggs, gave him some ginger ale, and checked his temperature again. Higher. More meds, an email to his teacher, and three rounds of applesauce later, there was still no change. I put him to bed with a bottle of water and some cold/flu meds, and we'll see how it goes.
And immediately, my brain started telling me that my throat hurts. My brain THINKS it's going to psych me into feeling sick, but I'm not falling for it. I did, however, just knock on the coffee table and end table for good measure.
So, I'm turning off my alarm for tomorrow morning, and me and my biggest boy are sleeping in. Thankfully, I'm still at home for the time being. It would be a nightmare if I were working right this moment.
And can I just say how grateful I am for the people in my corner who are there to help me and support me every step of the way? I don't say it often enough, but Mom, Dad, Katie, and David? I'd be lost with out you. Thank you for being there no matter what.
Oh, and you, too June, my niece-dog. Since Lacey's gone, I guess you can be the best now...even though you do like to try to bite B's face off.
Then again, if I were you, I'd probably want to do that, too...
Aubs
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