Despite talking "big," I've had very few legit relationships. Because none of those people read my blog, I'm going to "tell all" mostly because I'm in a real funk for reasons unknown and verbal diarrhea is a great stress reliever.
I'm also going to gloss over high school because...awkward. Besides, "dating" in high school (for me anyway) consisted of me going to my Senior Prom with a friend because my BOYFRIEND at the time had already asked a FRESHMAN before we started dating, and he "couldn't un-invite her." Trust me, I'm not holding a grudge...I just can't believe I made myself be okay with that. Seriously.
Idiot.
I must first discuss my first serious relationship that never actually was before I touch on my actual first serious relationship. The summer I graduated from high school, our extended family went camping (like we always do) and we met a ton of boys (like we always do) and picked our favorites to hang out with (like we always do). I ended up spending a ton of time with one in particular, a boy headed off to boot camp (SOOOO cliche, I know), so we spent our time living in the moment...making out and breaking lawn chairs. Don't ask. I mean, do....if you want to hear a story that will make you giggle. It was quite the summer. In fact, I'm still known to blush and bite my lip when I talk about it to this day.
Anyway, this group was from a town 2 hours away from where we lived, so in the fall of that same year, my sister and I decided to go visit the group, my boot camper not included, although that summer was NOT the last time I'd ever see him, and I'm crossing my fingers (and my toes) that I'll add more sightings to my list. Someday. But I digress...so, while hanging out in the living room of one of their homes, a boy walked through the front door while I was in the middle of saying something. I stopped mid-word, he came to a halt mid-step, and it was straight up out of a movie. We just stared...for what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds. We spent the rest of the day together, and I made a couple more trips out there after that. And while we only kissed a handful of times, we wrote actual LETTERS, y'all...with stamps and envelopes and handwritten page after page after page. It never failed: I would write him something that would freak him out and he'd take a while to respond while I went INSANE on my end. Then he would send me something that would totally freak me out and I wouldn't respond and then I'd find out he'd started dating someone else. It was our cycle. But it never mattered how much time passed (we're still friends, almost 16 years later) because we'd always pick up right where we left off, with flirtatious banter and reminiscing and "what ifs" that we'd never act upon. Oh. And he was also my boot camper's brother. Funny how things work out...
My first serious relationship ended up being with N's dad. We dated for 2 years before N came along. I was determined to be there for him and be his support system because I was convinced his family wasn't as supportive as they should've been while he tried to find his way. He had a lot of growing up to do. His mom told me, at one point, that I wasn't helping him, but doing him a disservice instead. I'd never tell her how much I agree with her NOW, but at the time, I wasn't listening. We broke up and got back together more times than I can count. We grew up in very different homes: My parents were married until I graduated from high school, while his got married and divorced TWICE during his childhood. Some of his friends became very dear to my heart, and some of those amazing friends are no longer with us, which makes it hard, but also gives us a bond that can't be broken...a bond aside from being co-parents of our soon-to-be teenager. He and I had very different ideas on pretty much everything, and we still do. But, we co-parent pretty well in spite of it all. Usually.
After a couple of years of singleness and focusing on mommy duties, I decided to get back out there. I will be the first to admit that I was totally naive and trusting, especially when it came to taking the word of those I deemed trustworthy. I was not the best judge of character at this point, but hindsight is totally 20/20. I started working at a job I loved, but had to sacrifice time with my child to do it, so as soon as I could, I changed departments to give me an opportunity to work a normal schedule. Hindsight: Bad idea.
I met a man. He was funny and flirtatious and sweet. He was a musician, he was always heading to "the studio" and he had two daughters from his first marriage...his first marriage that was over and he was looking for somewhere to live closer to his work since his ex-wife wouldn't let him see his daughters very often. I bet a zillion red flags are waving in your heads right now. There were none in mine. One night, he told me he was hanging out with his daughters and spending some time in his studio. Being me, I decided to surprise him. So I drove out to where he was, and I drove past the house. And I drove past again to make sure I had the address right. And then I almost kept driving while asking myself, "Could I ever fall in love with a man whose home is a trailer?" And then I got disgusted with myself because that shouldn't matter...but it really did. And then I discovered the studio he went to was actually his computer with equipment hooked up to it. And then I discovered that he wasn't divorced, but living there, separately (or so he said). But I didn't let that phase me, and I cannot FOR THE LIFE OF ME tell you why. And then, I made some stupid choices, and...along came B. So we stuck together and made a go of it, but I'm pretty sure it was tainted from the very beginning. It deteriorated rapidly, and by the time B was 3, the boys and I had moved in with my mom and he had moved in with the woman B would start calling "Stepmom" later that same year.
I threw myself into being a mom and going to school and realizing I was SO good at both of those things. I had very little time for anything else, and absolutely no desire to have anyone else in my life...except for sometimes when the "what ifs" would creep into my brain. They'd find their way back out almost as quickly as they arrived, but it made for some lonely moments. For 4 years, I steered clear of men and relationships and by the time 2013 rolled around, I thought I was ready to give it another shot.
And that's when I tried to go a different route and go for a type I had never given the time of day: the quieter, more sensitive and more caring man. I think it was too much of a change, because I found myself playing the stereotypical male role...consoling him and reassuring him and making all of the decisions and, whenever he did try to submit some kind of authority, all it took was a deadpan stare and he would crumble and defer to me. It was awful. And it dragged on WAY longer than it ever needed to. It got to the point where I told him it wasn't working and he begged me to tell him what he could do to make it better and I literally told him, "You need to grow a pair...I need testosterone. I feel like the guy in the relationship, and there's NO reason for that. You cry infinitely more than I ever have." We saw less and less of each other and finally we just stopped talking. He text me a few months later saying he missed me and I (not-so-tactfully) unloaded on him. We haven't talked since, and I'm not even remotely sad about that.
So I went back to focusing on school and being a mom and sports and what I was going to do next (Surprise! More school!) until my boys started asking me when I was going to get married or, at the very least, get a boyfriend. I told them I didn't know, and asked them what they thought would make a good boyfriend. They gave me some criteria, and most of it was surprisingly thoughtful. It was obvious they really thought about it before they answered. Overall, they want me to date someone who is cool with all of us and likes to spend time with us. They want someone who loves me and who makes me happy. And as I think about how hard they worked to come up with these ideas, my eyes fill up with tears because they really do have their sweet moments. They're few and far between, but it's obvious (to me) that they're really missing out on that male aspect in their lives here.
Still, it's really hard to go from being a well-oiled machine of singleness back to being in the dating game. What I want and what I probably need are different. I'm sure there's some overlap somewhere, but where there is overlap, there are also vast differences. I had lunch with a very kind man on Sunday. He is easy to talk to and he willingly listens to all of the opinions and stories I have to tell. I've known him for a while, and so it's nice that there's a level of familiarity. Could it go anywhere? I don't know. It's too soon to tell, and I don't know if there will be any additional time spent together. I know he's asked, and I've said it would be nice, but I don't know if I feel "it." And maybe these things take time. I've jumped the gun a fair number of times in the past...maybe it's supposed to go this way. I have no idea.. But at the same time, I know if I had to make a decision "Yay" or "Nay" right this second, I wouldn't hesitate before giving my answer.
That probably says a whole lot right there...so, it appears the well-oiled machine of singleness will continue for now.
Maybe forever. I've been doing it this long...it's not like it would be all that difficult to continue, and my sole focus could remain on my boys and our totally bizarre family of three.
Even if they so desperately want more and I think I do, too.
Maybe.
Aubs
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Technology
As I commute to and from school, I come up with all of these fantastic ideas of things I want to blog about...and then I get home and it's, "I don't want meatballs for dinner!" or "Spaghetti is gross!" (even though he liked it a couple of weeks ago) or, my absolute favorite..."Mom, can you make me another grilled cheese?" but only AFTER I've put all of the stuff away, cleaned the kitchen and been working on something else for a solid 15 minutes.
A Mom's life is grand...and never boring.
On my way to class this morning, I was thinking about technology and how it really drives me crazy sometimes, you know, as I come to you live from the comfort of my own bed while typing on my laptop and checking Facebook notifications and my online classroom to see if my latest grades have been posted while catching up on "How to Get Away With Murder" episodes on my dvr.
Hypocrisy knows no bounds.
Last week, a friend and I were talking about technology. More specifically, he was telling me that his son and his son's girlfriend never talk on the phone. They text or use social media for communicating. No phone calls. And as I pondered that, I wondered a couple of things:
1. How can you have a close relationship with someone without speaking to them, allowing them to hear the inflection and tone in your voice...the playful banter, the trying to hold it together when you've had a bad day, the elation of doing something well, the sorrow of bad news weighing on your heart, etc.
2. When did I turn 82?
I appreciate someone making an effort to call to ask me to join them in an activity. I appreciate that sometimes texting is necessary, especially if you don't know if the other person is available to talk...but if they are, by all means, pick up the dang phone. If you're "not a phone person," that's just stupid. You talked on the phone all the time to communicate prior to texting capabilities, so that's a totally lame excuse.
As I venture back into the dating world (Yep, that's right...you heard it here first, folks!), I have determined what I will and will not accept, fully understanding that my criteria MIGHT not yield any results. I'm good with that. And I'm not making it easy. Why should I?
Maybe it's this class I'm taking that has to do with literature of the Southwest, or maybe it's something that women are hardwired for, but I need someone to have more balls than I do. I know. It's horrible. And to be clear, I don't have that particular piece of anatomy, but I've been a single parent for a LONG time, even when I technically WASN'T a single parent, and I'm hard to take. I know I am. I own it, and I'm apologetic for it...sometimes. I've had to be mom and dad, bust balls and drench with love, discipline and comfort. I've done it all, and I appreciate someone who can/will do the same, but I can't see myself with someone who's soft spoken or constantly deferring to me or trying to hard to "grow a pair" so he can be on level. I have two children. I don't need a third in adult form. I need the guy who backs me up when I parent my kids (or when I'm having a difference of opinion with an ex) regardless of whether I'm right or wrong. If I'm wrong, I'll usually admit it, but it may take me a while to see it...so be patient. Or get over it.
I remember EVERYTHING. It's frustrating to have to remind someone of something over and over, just like it's frustrating to be told the same story over and over. I show that I remember things by mentioning them in conversation or planning an activity that involves a favorite thing or some tidbit that I randomly remember from a passing conversation. I know I'm not normal in this, and I'm good with that, but show you pay attention. People really do notice that stuff.
A woman, especially a woman who has been broken in the past, wants to feel safe and protected and (for lack of a better word) dainty in the presence of her other half. She wants to feel like the only person in the room, like your eyes can only see her. It sucks, but you have to try twice as hard with a woman like that because she has been burned and is super cautious when it comes to trusting, putting herself out there, or giving her heart to someone.
Don't be petty or self-righteous. Everybody says things that are dumb, just like people often take things the wrong way. When a semi-stranger pays you an awesome compliment, you kind of want to brag about it. It's not because you have any kind of "thing" for the semi-stranger, but maybe it was the best compliment you've ever gotten, and you're pretty dang proud of it. It's not a tactical weapon of jealousy. For the love.
Chivalry is not dead, Y'all. I mean, sometimes it seems like it is, but there are still people who practice chivalry, and although MANY of those are unavailable, I have to hold out hope that there are a few unattached men who believe in those principles, too.
I'm 90% sure I'm a good person. I know I can be kind and caring and I'm a total giver. I may not always find the silver lining in my own life, but I'm all about finding it elsewhere! I say 90% simply because I know at least 10% of me is harsh and abrasive at times. I say what's in my head, often without thinking it through. Sometimes I forget my filter. And I'm not one to give 2nd chances. Been there, done that. The last time I dated someone, I definitely tried to fit myself into a mold that I had no business being in. I realized it, stayed me, and...at one point, I literally found myself saying, "Listen. I need you to have more testosterone because I totally feel like I'm the guy in this relationship while you're the girl who cries at the drop of a hat."
Like I said, sometimes I forget my filter.
I also clearly forgot I was talking about technology and not dating.
Short & sweet version: Be a manly man. Be a gentleman. Be patient. Find ways to surprise me (it's virtually impossible). Have balls and don't be afraid to call me on my bullshit...with caution because I might rip you a new one.
At least I'm honest.
A Mom's life is grand...and never boring.
On my way to class this morning, I was thinking about technology and how it really drives me crazy sometimes, you know, as I come to you live from the comfort of my own bed while typing on my laptop and checking Facebook notifications and my online classroom to see if my latest grades have been posted while catching up on "How to Get Away With Murder" episodes on my dvr.
Hypocrisy knows no bounds.
Last week, a friend and I were talking about technology. More specifically, he was telling me that his son and his son's girlfriend never talk on the phone. They text or use social media for communicating. No phone calls. And as I pondered that, I wondered a couple of things:
1. How can you have a close relationship with someone without speaking to them, allowing them to hear the inflection and tone in your voice...the playful banter, the trying to hold it together when you've had a bad day, the elation of doing something well, the sorrow of bad news weighing on your heart, etc.
2. When did I turn 82?
I appreciate someone making an effort to call to ask me to join them in an activity. I appreciate that sometimes texting is necessary, especially if you don't know if the other person is available to talk...but if they are, by all means, pick up the dang phone. If you're "not a phone person," that's just stupid. You talked on the phone all the time to communicate prior to texting capabilities, so that's a totally lame excuse.
As I venture back into the dating world (Yep, that's right...you heard it here first, folks!), I have determined what I will and will not accept, fully understanding that my criteria MIGHT not yield any results. I'm good with that. And I'm not making it easy. Why should I?
Maybe it's this class I'm taking that has to do with literature of the Southwest, or maybe it's something that women are hardwired for, but I need someone to have more balls than I do. I know. It's horrible. And to be clear, I don't have that particular piece of anatomy, but I've been a single parent for a LONG time, even when I technically WASN'T a single parent, and I'm hard to take. I know I am. I own it, and I'm apologetic for it...sometimes. I've had to be mom and dad, bust balls and drench with love, discipline and comfort. I've done it all, and I appreciate someone who can/will do the same, but I can't see myself with someone who's soft spoken or constantly deferring to me or trying to hard to "grow a pair" so he can be on level. I have two children. I don't need a third in adult form. I need the guy who backs me up when I parent my kids (or when I'm having a difference of opinion with an ex) regardless of whether I'm right or wrong. If I'm wrong, I'll usually admit it, but it may take me a while to see it...so be patient. Or get over it.
I remember EVERYTHING. It's frustrating to have to remind someone of something over and over, just like it's frustrating to be told the same story over and over. I show that I remember things by mentioning them in conversation or planning an activity that involves a favorite thing or some tidbit that I randomly remember from a passing conversation. I know I'm not normal in this, and I'm good with that, but show you pay attention. People really do notice that stuff.
A woman, especially a woman who has been broken in the past, wants to feel safe and protected and (for lack of a better word) dainty in the presence of her other half. She wants to feel like the only person in the room, like your eyes can only see her. It sucks, but you have to try twice as hard with a woman like that because she has been burned and is super cautious when it comes to trusting, putting herself out there, or giving her heart to someone.
Don't be petty or self-righteous. Everybody says things that are dumb, just like people often take things the wrong way. When a semi-stranger pays you an awesome compliment, you kind of want to brag about it. It's not because you have any kind of "thing" for the semi-stranger, but maybe it was the best compliment you've ever gotten, and you're pretty dang proud of it. It's not a tactical weapon of jealousy. For the love.
Chivalry is not dead, Y'all. I mean, sometimes it seems like it is, but there are still people who practice chivalry, and although MANY of those are unavailable, I have to hold out hope that there are a few unattached men who believe in those principles, too.
I'm 90% sure I'm a good person. I know I can be kind and caring and I'm a total giver. I may not always find the silver lining in my own life, but I'm all about finding it elsewhere! I say 90% simply because I know at least 10% of me is harsh and abrasive at times. I say what's in my head, often without thinking it through. Sometimes I forget my filter. And I'm not one to give 2nd chances. Been there, done that. The last time I dated someone, I definitely tried to fit myself into a mold that I had no business being in. I realized it, stayed me, and...at one point, I literally found myself saying, "Listen. I need you to have more testosterone because I totally feel like I'm the guy in this relationship while you're the girl who cries at the drop of a hat."
Like I said, sometimes I forget my filter.
I also clearly forgot I was talking about technology and not dating.
Short & sweet version: Be a manly man. Be a gentleman. Be patient. Find ways to surprise me (it's virtually impossible). Have balls and don't be afraid to call me on my bullshit...with caution because I might rip you a new one.
At least I'm honest.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Borrowed from My Facebook Posts
I just succinctly described my day in a not-so-succinct status update:
"Three things from today, compliments of my stupid vivid imagination:
1. I got up in the middle of the night because ice was pelting my window. Disappointed it wasn't snow, I forgot to run and jump into my bed. As I climbed in, I SWEAR I FELT A HAND GRAB MY ANKLE. I have a vivid imagination. But, if you heard an ear-piercing scream at approximately 3:14 am (CST), it was me. Apologies.
2. I hate birds, right? This is not news. I had the windows down today because...HEAT WAVE! It was 45 and sunny and the volume was up while the windows were halfway down, and I thought to myself, "Self, if a bird ever flew through the open window on the passenger side and hit the driver's side window and fell in your lap, you WOULD DIE INSTANTLY." And then I proceeded to practically go into convulsions and I brushed imaginary birds off my lap while freaking out over invisible trouble that I borrowed from my...what? Oh yeah, vivid imagination.
"Three things from today, compliments of my stupid vivid imagination:
1. I got up in the middle of the night because ice was pelting my window. Disappointed it wasn't snow, I forgot to run and jump into my bed. As I climbed in, I SWEAR I FELT A HAND GRAB MY ANKLE. I have a vivid imagination. But, if you heard an ear-piercing scream at approximately 3:14 am (CST), it was me. Apologies.
2. I hate birds, right? This is not news. I had the windows down today because...HEAT WAVE! It was 45 and sunny and the volume was up while the windows were halfway down, and I thought to myself, "Self, if a bird ever flew through the open window on the passenger side and hit the driver's side window and fell in your lap, you WOULD DIE INSTANTLY." And then I proceeded to practically go into convulsions and I brushed imaginary birds off my lap while freaking out over invisible trouble that I borrowed from my...what? Oh yeah, vivid imagination.
3. I've had Destiny's Child songs stuck in my head all day...namely
"Say My Name" and "Bills Bills Bills." There is no reason for this, and
I wish it would stop. Also, it's a terrible mash-up.
That is all."
That was just during normal school hours, friends. This evening, as I sat in front of the fireplace, trudging through the second "half" of The Virginian, N looked at me and said (in a very grumbly voice), "I could've been born in the Wild West or the Revolutionary War or even in the Star Wars Galaxy, but noooooooooo! Stuck. Here."
I laughed for a good 10 minutes, intermittently of course. I thought I was over it, but then I imagined his facial expression and exploded all over again.
We've had 2 snow days this week, and only one of them was actually necessary. I'm sincerely hoping that we never have anymore in the history of FOREVER because I was not made for cooped up inside with my children when they're well and trying to be bossy and bored. I have no idea where they get such behavior!
Today was back to business as usual, only B started in a new classroom (thankfully), and N had late role call for athletics, so we rolled up to school at approximately 7:10 and felt SUPER proud of ourselves. At least I did. They were both shooting daggers at me because I was so cheerful! When N stormed out of the car without saying goodbye, I did the unthinkable: I rolled down the window and said, "Bye Honey! I love you!" messy hair, glasses, and ALL. He turned his head away, but not before I could see the puff of his cheeks to know he was laughing at my ridiculousness. He swears he wasn't. We all know the truth.
B begged to jump out of the car as soon as we go to his school to go inside with his BFF, so I don't even think I stopped the car before he jumped out.
And ever since then, I've been reading the second halves of two VASTLY different books for classes that haven't met in a week, thanks to Mother Nature. I mean, I'm not complaining, and I love to read, but one class has no less than 9 full-length novels on the reading list. We're already on week 5 of the semester and have read O.N.E.
Well, almost one. The Virginian is a beast of a novel.
Aubs
That is all."
That was just during normal school hours, friends. This evening, as I sat in front of the fireplace, trudging through the second "half" of The Virginian, N looked at me and said (in a very grumbly voice), "I could've been born in the Wild West or the Revolutionary War or even in the Star Wars Galaxy, but noooooooooo! Stuck. Here."
I laughed for a good 10 minutes, intermittently of course. I thought I was over it, but then I imagined his facial expression and exploded all over again.
We've had 2 snow days this week, and only one of them was actually necessary. I'm sincerely hoping that we never have anymore in the history of FOREVER because I was not made for cooped up inside with my children when they're well and trying to be bossy and bored. I have no idea where they get such behavior!
Today was back to business as usual, only B started in a new classroom (thankfully), and N had late role call for athletics, so we rolled up to school at approximately 7:10 and felt SUPER proud of ourselves. At least I did. They were both shooting daggers at me because I was so cheerful! When N stormed out of the car without saying goodbye, I did the unthinkable: I rolled down the window and said, "Bye Honey! I love you!" messy hair, glasses, and ALL. He turned his head away, but not before I could see the puff of his cheeks to know he was laughing at my ridiculousness. He swears he wasn't. We all know the truth.
B begged to jump out of the car as soon as we go to his school to go inside with his BFF, so I don't even think I stopped the car before he jumped out.
And ever since then, I've been reading the second halves of two VASTLY different books for classes that haven't met in a week, thanks to Mother Nature. I mean, I'm not complaining, and I love to read, but one class has no less than 9 full-length novels on the reading list. We're already on week 5 of the semester and have read O.N.E.
Well, almost one. The Virginian is a beast of a novel.
Aubs
Monday, February 16, 2015
The Weekend from Hell...also known as a "Lemony Snickett"
This post will be not be pleasant. And I must explain "Lemony Snickett" as I've begun using that phrase when things aren't going the way they should. This phrase is interchangeable with "PLOT TWIST!" This weekend has been the epitome of a series of unfortunate events, aka a "Lemony Snickett." Okay, then.
My boys have been having some serious issues lately. They fight and invade each others' space, like brothers are known to do, but they take it to an entirely different level. One of them (B) instigates scenarios way more than the other, but N has a temper that flips on at the most inopportune moments, and that becomes a problem...BUT, more about that later.
This weekend, Valentine's Day Weekend, I had it on the calendar to go to Houston to visit my dad. We saw him at Christmas time, but we all had the flu, so it wasn't the joyous occasion that it should have been. On Thursday afternoon, I got a phone call from the high school where I sometimes substitute, to see if there was any chance I could fill in for a teacher on Friday morning. I agreed to teach English, so I dropped both boys off at their respective schools early, promised my friend a Dr. Pepper upon my return, and took off. When I got there, I found out that I was filling in for TWO teachers that morning. Loving a challenge, I went to each classroom and met the teachers I was replacing. For whatever reason, the district scheduled a half-day of inservice on Friday the 13th. What were they thinking?! Anyway, I alternated between AP Environmental Science (where they were working on a project) and 9th grade PreAP English (where they were also supposed to be working on a project). Every. Other. Class. Period.
By my "quittin' time," I was ready for a nap. Instead, I hit Chick Fil-A for a free iced coffee (February has become my favorite month...free coffee every single day!), then Sonic for Dr. Pepper (as promised), and had just enough time to inhale a salad before I ran through the front door of B's elementary school for his Valentine's Day party. It was chaotic and fun: the kids played Valentine's Day JINGO, then decorated huge heart-shaped cookies with frosting and sprinkles. B drowned his, then promptly threw it away. Other kids used frosting and Chex Mix...something I thought was pretty bizarre, but also inventive! We wrapped up the party about 20 minutes before the bell rang, so B and I headed out. In the office, B revealed that he had YET ANOTHER altercation with the same student, and the other student had been put into ISS as a result. Pissed, I called the principal and left a voicemail. I'm pretty sure the venom in my voice was tangible. I also sent a strongly worded email. The result was a phone call from the principal and vice principal. On speaker phone. They apologized profusely, but said the day was just so crazy they dropped the ball. Parties didn't start until the afternoon, so I fail to see how an even that occurred in the morning was not relayed to the parent of the assaulted child...especially since there has been at least one altercation a week since school resumed in January.
I'm still fuming. I did NOT let it go. Sorry.
We picked N up next door a few minutes later and we were off...after taking 2 years at the gas station and 8 years at Sonic (again) for a road trip snack. The trip TO Houston was uneventful and pleasant. I had high hopes.
I should've known better.
Saturday morning, we got up early to take my car to the dealership for new brakes. I figured it would be easier to do with my dad (in case the service department tried to eff with me since I'm a girl). After we dropped my car off, the original plan was go-karts, however the ball was dropped on research, and we almost to our destination when I realized neither child met age requirements, and B was not quite there for height requirements either. In a fun little plot twist, we ended up playing miniature golf instead. My dad, N and I were totally on-board. B claimed to be up for it, but it became very clear that he was not having a good time. He didn't care that he'd only played one time before...he was convinced he should have the same skill level as N or my dad. The first few holes were okay, but when it went downhill, it went fast.
I was yet another plot twist. The boys have never played with me before, and they didn't realize that I used to play a lot when I was a kid and lived in Oklahoma...mostly because there was nothing else to do. N constantly claimed I was cheating because I would use the walls as bumpers to ricochet my ball closer to the hole.
And, y'all? It worked. I ended up 4 strokes behind my dad, the golf guru. Three out of four of us had a blast. B started sulking and crying and throwing himself one hell of a pity party. It sucked the fun out of anything we did. We grabbed lunch where he ordered chicken, then changed his mind to turkey after he'd already placed his order. I told him he'd have to eat chicken and stick with his first choice.
I ruined his life. Shocking. Then we went back to my dad's to relax and wait for my car. When it was ready, we went to pick it up and B fell asleep in the car. He woke up with a fresh outlook on life...until someone wanted to watch something he didn't want to watch on television that evening.
We had a relaxing morning and headed out to Katy Mills to wander. The plan was to go do some bungee thing at the mall because B really wanted to do it. When I announced we were headed to the mall, however, B launched right back into his pity party and I lost my temper. I never got it back. We walked through the mall with B straggling behind or pushing ahead, all the while pouting and crying, claiming he was starving (2 hours after breakfast) and bored and then...the ultimate irritation: "I'm sorry I'm ruining everyone's day. I'm so stupid."
No. Do not pass go. Go directly to piss your mother off.
We skipped the bungees, went to eat lunch (at a place B didn't want to go to), then headed back to my dad's, where his attitude went even further down the tubes. I finally told him I didn't want to hear another word from him...ever. He wasn't being disobedient or disrespectful, just annoying.
When we left, I unleashed how pissed I was, telling him how I spent the entire weekend catering to him instead of enjoying my time with MY dad...and how upset I was about it. I don't think he realized just how much his actions affected everyone this weekend. I'm still not sure he knows.
He continued the pity party and I continued to turn the volume up on my iPod. I'm pretty sure you could've heard my music choices in New Jersey by the time we were entering the Dallas area. But, that's not even the worst of it, friends.
After we got home and ate dinner, things took a turn. Exhausted from sharing a bed with my sideways sleeper, thus not sleeping very well, I was ready for bed by 8:24. I got comfortable to catch up on my dvr, and that's when all hell broke loose:
B came in my room to pee. When he went back into the living room, he looked over his brother's shoulder to narc on him for looking at something he didn't think was appropriate. (For the record, it was fine, a website that had been pre-approved by me.) This was not the first time this had happened today OR this weekend, so N went straight into pissed mode. He slapped at B for tattling, and I reminded him (forcefully) that he was not to touch his brother. It should've ended there, but it didn't.
B took that opportunity to scoot over on the couch and kick N's arm. He slapped at B again, and I charged into the room (I've been trying to let them solve their issues without interference...it's not working), hollering at both of them to go to their "corners" of the couch. B immediately started to play the victim, and I nipped that in the bud super-quick. He very obviously started it. No question.
N, however, was not in place where he intended to listen to me. I sent him to his room, and he stared at me, unmoving. I said it again, and he said (really low), "What are you going to do about it?"
RED. It's the color of the day and the color I was seeing at this point. I can deal with lots of things, but blatantly defying authority? Not. Ever.
I stared him down and he finally got up and started walking away, saying extremely unkind things about his brother. I commanded him to stop and talk to me. He kept walking. I went around the corner, put my hand on his shoulder (gently) to stop him, and he spun around and swung at my arm.
My reaction was to slap him, and I regret it. But he charged at me, then destroyed his room. As I explained to him that he cannot destroy property that doesn't belong to him, he put his hand on me again and I slapped him away. Then he tore out of the front door and out into the parking lot. Meanwhile, B is crying on the couch because he's scared because N and I are so angry and he doesn't understand why.
Because the whole thing started because of B's choices. But he doesn't see it that way.
Insert insane frustration here. So, I'm sitting there, shaking, trying to regain composure and wondering if N will return home, realizing I have no idea where he went. And y'all? I've never been more afraid.
He finally came back (it was like 5-10 minutes, but seemed like forever), and refused to speak to anyone.
Meanwhile, B and I are having a "Come to Jesus Meeting" about his behavior and his desire to be an instigator. It's not working for him. It will never work for him. It will never be a successful venture for anyone...unless they have zero desire to have friends/family.
And then N and I have a conversation about how you can get mad all you want, but you never walk out. When you walk away, you have to be prepared for things to be vastly different when you return. And then it was almost 1:00 in the morning and I wondered where 8:24 went.
Because I have papers to write and things to get done and President's Day is totally messing with my flow of events. So far, I've written a response essay (1000 words) on a lecture I had to attend with a guest speaker for Black History month, and a 2000 word essay on the invention/history of the mechanical clock. I might've been grasping at straws and using well-known movies with scenes showing interior views of clocks in my conclusion. There is NOT a lot of information on that topic, in case you were wondering.
Still to go: an exam this evening and a 1500 word paper due by 11pm on Tuesday night on Malaeska (old school Western dime novel) and social symbols. Super.
The boys are (thankfully) playing together peacefully, although they are far from quiet. I could go for some quiet right now. And some snow. And a fire in the fireplace. And a grocery store that delivers tissues, bread, milk, eggs, toilet paper, and dinner that's already been prepared.
Obviously, my demands are extremely low.
My boys have been having some serious issues lately. They fight and invade each others' space, like brothers are known to do, but they take it to an entirely different level. One of them (B) instigates scenarios way more than the other, but N has a temper that flips on at the most inopportune moments, and that becomes a problem...BUT, more about that later.
This weekend, Valentine's Day Weekend, I had it on the calendar to go to Houston to visit my dad. We saw him at Christmas time, but we all had the flu, so it wasn't the joyous occasion that it should have been. On Thursday afternoon, I got a phone call from the high school where I sometimes substitute, to see if there was any chance I could fill in for a teacher on Friday morning. I agreed to teach English, so I dropped both boys off at their respective schools early, promised my friend a Dr. Pepper upon my return, and took off. When I got there, I found out that I was filling in for TWO teachers that morning. Loving a challenge, I went to each classroom and met the teachers I was replacing. For whatever reason, the district scheduled a half-day of inservice on Friday the 13th. What were they thinking?! Anyway, I alternated between AP Environmental Science (where they were working on a project) and 9th grade PreAP English (where they were also supposed to be working on a project). Every. Other. Class. Period.
By my "quittin' time," I was ready for a nap. Instead, I hit Chick Fil-A for a free iced coffee (February has become my favorite month...free coffee every single day!), then Sonic for Dr. Pepper (as promised), and had just enough time to inhale a salad before I ran through the front door of B's elementary school for his Valentine's Day party. It was chaotic and fun: the kids played Valentine's Day JINGO, then decorated huge heart-shaped cookies with frosting and sprinkles. B drowned his, then promptly threw it away. Other kids used frosting and Chex Mix...something I thought was pretty bizarre, but also inventive! We wrapped up the party about 20 minutes before the bell rang, so B and I headed out. In the office, B revealed that he had YET ANOTHER altercation with the same student, and the other student had been put into ISS as a result. Pissed, I called the principal and left a voicemail. I'm pretty sure the venom in my voice was tangible. I also sent a strongly worded email. The result was a phone call from the principal and vice principal. On speaker phone. They apologized profusely, but said the day was just so crazy they dropped the ball. Parties didn't start until the afternoon, so I fail to see how an even that occurred in the morning was not relayed to the parent of the assaulted child...especially since there has been at least one altercation a week since school resumed in January.
I'm still fuming. I did NOT let it go. Sorry.
We picked N up next door a few minutes later and we were off...after taking 2 years at the gas station and 8 years at Sonic (again) for a road trip snack. The trip TO Houston was uneventful and pleasant. I had high hopes.
I should've known better.
Saturday morning, we got up early to take my car to the dealership for new brakes. I figured it would be easier to do with my dad (in case the service department tried to eff with me since I'm a girl). After we dropped my car off, the original plan was go-karts, however the ball was dropped on research, and we almost to our destination when I realized neither child met age requirements, and B was not quite there for height requirements either. In a fun little plot twist, we ended up playing miniature golf instead. My dad, N and I were totally on-board. B claimed to be up for it, but it became very clear that he was not having a good time. He didn't care that he'd only played one time before...he was convinced he should have the same skill level as N or my dad. The first few holes were okay, but when it went downhill, it went fast.
I was yet another plot twist. The boys have never played with me before, and they didn't realize that I used to play a lot when I was a kid and lived in Oklahoma...mostly because there was nothing else to do. N constantly claimed I was cheating because I would use the walls as bumpers to ricochet my ball closer to the hole.
And, y'all? It worked. I ended up 4 strokes behind my dad, the golf guru. Three out of four of us had a blast. B started sulking and crying and throwing himself one hell of a pity party. It sucked the fun out of anything we did. We grabbed lunch where he ordered chicken, then changed his mind to turkey after he'd already placed his order. I told him he'd have to eat chicken and stick with his first choice.
I ruined his life. Shocking. Then we went back to my dad's to relax and wait for my car. When it was ready, we went to pick it up and B fell asleep in the car. He woke up with a fresh outlook on life...until someone wanted to watch something he didn't want to watch on television that evening.
We had a relaxing morning and headed out to Katy Mills to wander. The plan was to go do some bungee thing at the mall because B really wanted to do it. When I announced we were headed to the mall, however, B launched right back into his pity party and I lost my temper. I never got it back. We walked through the mall with B straggling behind or pushing ahead, all the while pouting and crying, claiming he was starving (2 hours after breakfast) and bored and then...the ultimate irritation: "I'm sorry I'm ruining everyone's day. I'm so stupid."
No. Do not pass go. Go directly to piss your mother off.
We skipped the bungees, went to eat lunch (at a place B didn't want to go to), then headed back to my dad's, where his attitude went even further down the tubes. I finally told him I didn't want to hear another word from him...ever. He wasn't being disobedient or disrespectful, just annoying.
When we left, I unleashed how pissed I was, telling him how I spent the entire weekend catering to him instead of enjoying my time with MY dad...and how upset I was about it. I don't think he realized just how much his actions affected everyone this weekend. I'm still not sure he knows.
He continued the pity party and I continued to turn the volume up on my iPod. I'm pretty sure you could've heard my music choices in New Jersey by the time we were entering the Dallas area. But, that's not even the worst of it, friends.
After we got home and ate dinner, things took a turn. Exhausted from sharing a bed with my sideways sleeper, thus not sleeping very well, I was ready for bed by 8:24. I got comfortable to catch up on my dvr, and that's when all hell broke loose:
B came in my room to pee. When he went back into the living room, he looked over his brother's shoulder to narc on him for looking at something he didn't think was appropriate. (For the record, it was fine, a website that had been pre-approved by me.) This was not the first time this had happened today OR this weekend, so N went straight into pissed mode. He slapped at B for tattling, and I reminded him (forcefully) that he was not to touch his brother. It should've ended there, but it didn't.
B took that opportunity to scoot over on the couch and kick N's arm. He slapped at B again, and I charged into the room (I've been trying to let them solve their issues without interference...it's not working), hollering at both of them to go to their "corners" of the couch. B immediately started to play the victim, and I nipped that in the bud super-quick. He very obviously started it. No question.
N, however, was not in place where he intended to listen to me. I sent him to his room, and he stared at me, unmoving. I said it again, and he said (really low), "What are you going to do about it?"
RED. It's the color of the day and the color I was seeing at this point. I can deal with lots of things, but blatantly defying authority? Not. Ever.
I stared him down and he finally got up and started walking away, saying extremely unkind things about his brother. I commanded him to stop and talk to me. He kept walking. I went around the corner, put my hand on his shoulder (gently) to stop him, and he spun around and swung at my arm.
My reaction was to slap him, and I regret it. But he charged at me, then destroyed his room. As I explained to him that he cannot destroy property that doesn't belong to him, he put his hand on me again and I slapped him away. Then he tore out of the front door and out into the parking lot. Meanwhile, B is crying on the couch because he's scared because N and I are so angry and he doesn't understand why.
Because the whole thing started because of B's choices. But he doesn't see it that way.
Insert insane frustration here. So, I'm sitting there, shaking, trying to regain composure and wondering if N will return home, realizing I have no idea where he went. And y'all? I've never been more afraid.
He finally came back (it was like 5-10 minutes, but seemed like forever), and refused to speak to anyone.
Meanwhile, B and I are having a "Come to Jesus Meeting" about his behavior and his desire to be an instigator. It's not working for him. It will never work for him. It will never be a successful venture for anyone...unless they have zero desire to have friends/family.
And then N and I have a conversation about how you can get mad all you want, but you never walk out. When you walk away, you have to be prepared for things to be vastly different when you return. And then it was almost 1:00 in the morning and I wondered where 8:24 went.
Because I have papers to write and things to get done and President's Day is totally messing with my flow of events. So far, I've written a response essay (1000 words) on a lecture I had to attend with a guest speaker for Black History month, and a 2000 word essay on the invention/history of the mechanical clock. I might've been grasping at straws and using well-known movies with scenes showing interior views of clocks in my conclusion. There is NOT a lot of information on that topic, in case you were wondering.
Still to go: an exam this evening and a 1500 word paper due by 11pm on Tuesday night on Malaeska (old school Western dime novel) and social symbols. Super.
The boys are (thankfully) playing together peacefully, although they are far from quiet. I could go for some quiet right now. And some snow. And a fire in the fireplace. And a grocery store that delivers tissues, bread, milk, eggs, toilet paper, and dinner that's already been prepared.
Obviously, my demands are extremely low.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Insert Tribal Singing/Chanting Here
Last night, one of my very favorite besties (Michelle!) came over for a LONG overdue girls' night. I'm talking we haven't seen each other since June. We decided the best choice would be wine, carbs and chick flicks.
SO, I made potato soup and brownies. She brought a fantastic baguette and bread bowls from Panera. I bought the wine. She brought a sample of her extensive movie collection.
And then we proceeded to watch Jimmy Fallon videos on YouTube because...priorities! And after catching up on lip sync battles, we watched Jimmy Fallon and Bradley Cooper just LOSE it for 10 minutes while attempting to do an interview about Bradley Cooper's broadway show...while wearing visors with fake hair on top. It's never NOT funny. If you haven't seen it, watch it. STAT!
We watched "Because I Said So" with Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham, Piper Perabo, and Mandy Moore. Originally, our intention was to watch this because we both think the guy who plays Ethan on "Something Borrowed" is adorable, and Michelle convinced me he was in it. Until the opening scene when she said, "Uh, I don't think Ethan's in this movie after all." But do you know who IS in that movie?
Stuart. And I am Stuart. If you've seen it, you'll get it. And if you haven't, watch it and picture me as a female version of Stuart (minus the whole need for therapy). Or, maybe that's what I'm missing.
Hmmmmm...
After that, we decided a good, ugly cry was in order, so we switched to "The Good Life" with Reese Witherspoon. At this point, we'd had a couple of delightful concoctions: Simply Tropical Fruit (It's NEW!) with Cake Vodka (Oh. Wow. Delicious.) followed by some Sauvignon blanc. Then we added peach schnapps just to make it fun. It was so fun.
But "The Good Life," y'all? Utterly depressing. Reese looks fantastic as a brunette, but other than that, it wasn't even a cry-worthy depressing. Until the end. To lighten the Debbie Downer mood imposed upon us, I busted out with tribal singing/chanting when a scene popped up mimicking the opening scene from "The Lion King."
There were tears of laughter then. And each time after that, one or both of us would say, "Everything the light touches is our kingdom." or some other Lion King quote. It made the movie bearable.
And so, when it was over, we were shocked to discover that it was 2 a.m. and we were both awake and going strong. Girl time was good for my soul. It's the SOLE blue event on my calendar this month. I have a color-coded calendar because I'm not at all anal.
Each class I'm taking the semester has a color. Weekly schedules have a color. Substitute jobs and babysitting or other similar jobs have a color. Baseball has a color. School stuff for the boys (days off, events, etc.) has a color. Relay for Life has a color. Fun stuff has a color, but that color is totally mistreated. My calendar is a rainbow with 10 different colors. And I need a little more blue in my life.
Don't we all need a little more "blue" in our lives? I mean...one blue event a month?
That's just pathetic, y'all. Time to branch out!
Aubs
SO, I made potato soup and brownies. She brought a fantastic baguette and bread bowls from Panera. I bought the wine. She brought a sample of her extensive movie collection.
And then we proceeded to watch Jimmy Fallon videos on YouTube because...priorities! And after catching up on lip sync battles, we watched Jimmy Fallon and Bradley Cooper just LOSE it for 10 minutes while attempting to do an interview about Bradley Cooper's broadway show...while wearing visors with fake hair on top. It's never NOT funny. If you haven't seen it, watch it. STAT!
We watched "Because I Said So" with Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham, Piper Perabo, and Mandy Moore. Originally, our intention was to watch this because we both think the guy who plays Ethan on "Something Borrowed" is adorable, and Michelle convinced me he was in it. Until the opening scene when she said, "Uh, I don't think Ethan's in this movie after all." But do you know who IS in that movie?
Stuart. And I am Stuart. If you've seen it, you'll get it. And if you haven't, watch it and picture me as a female version of Stuart (minus the whole need for therapy). Or, maybe that's what I'm missing.
Hmmmmm...
After that, we decided a good, ugly cry was in order, so we switched to "The Good Life" with Reese Witherspoon. At this point, we'd had a couple of delightful concoctions: Simply Tropical Fruit (It's NEW!) with Cake Vodka (Oh. Wow. Delicious.) followed by some Sauvignon blanc. Then we added peach schnapps just to make it fun. It was so fun.
But "The Good Life," y'all? Utterly depressing. Reese looks fantastic as a brunette, but other than that, it wasn't even a cry-worthy depressing. Until the end. To lighten the Debbie Downer mood imposed upon us, I busted out with tribal singing/chanting when a scene popped up mimicking the opening scene from "The Lion King."
There were tears of laughter then. And each time after that, one or both of us would say, "Everything the light touches is our kingdom." or some other Lion King quote. It made the movie bearable.
And so, when it was over, we were shocked to discover that it was 2 a.m. and we were both awake and going strong. Girl time was good for my soul. It's the SOLE blue event on my calendar this month. I have a color-coded calendar because I'm not at all anal.
Each class I'm taking the semester has a color. Weekly schedules have a color. Substitute jobs and babysitting or other similar jobs have a color. Baseball has a color. School stuff for the boys (days off, events, etc.) has a color. Relay for Life has a color. Fun stuff has a color, but that color is totally mistreated. My calendar is a rainbow with 10 different colors. And I need a little more blue in my life.
Don't we all need a little more "blue" in our lives? I mean...one blue event a month?
That's just pathetic, y'all. Time to branch out!
Aubs
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
This is me...avoiding my homework...
I am a procrastinator. This is not shocking if you know me at all, and I'm not a procrastinator in all ways, but when it comes to school and assignments, I procrastinate. This does not make me the best model for my children. When they procrastinate, I want to slam my head into a brick wall...because. Stress.
Since one of my boys is home sick, I had to miss class yesterday. That meant I missed a quiz in one of my classes. I emailed my professor and explained the situation, and she wrote back the sweetest reply with, "In lieu of taking the quiz, why don't you write a 1 1/2 page response paper on the major arguments of the essays that you would have been quizzed over?"
Super. Let me just read those essays now, then. Sigh. Really, though, it's an interesting class. I mean, last week, we spent the entire hour looking at pictures of lynches. It was horrific. "Hey family, what should we do today, to bond? I know! Let's go to a lynching. Sally is 4 now...I think she's ready."
I'm all for dark and twisty at times, but that's a little too...I can't even think of a word. So.
I like chips.
I also still haven't read the essays or written a response. I have, however, fully caught up on every single episode of "Fixer Upper" and all but one of the "NCIS/NCIS NOLA" episodes on my dvr. A girl has to have her priorities. Besides, I simply HAVE to know what kind of trouble Chip and Joanna Gaines are going to find when they start ripping the ugliest house on the block apart, and literally hold my breath while they call the homeowner to tell them how expensive the unforeseen expense will be, then exhale and fist pump when they say, "Okay, do it." I don't feel like this is an issue.
For the record, I've been half-working on this blog for an hour (during commercial breaks, breaks I can skip through because it's a RECORDING, but I always forget about that until it's started again and then I skip ahead too far and have to go back and wind up with commercials again...it's a hard-knock life). I have been looking at my closed book of essays for roughly 2 hours, psyching myself up to open it. I feel like I'm almost there...but once I get there, B will be home (assuming he remembers to ride the bus), and we will be working on 460 math problems. It might be an exaggeration, but just barely. I think he's up to 360 tonight. Sheesh!
His stepmom and I had a conference at his school today to discuss his behavior (which has been abysmal lately), and when I went to say goodbye to him in the cafeteria, one of the other boys asked if I was B's mom. I told him I was, then introduced his stepmom, and everyone looked puzzled for a minute...then another kid asked if stepmom and I were sisters. This is not the first time this has happened, but let's have a moment of silence while we mull that one over, shall we? Because that wouldn't be weird or awkward or anything.
Yikes. Moving right along...after I finished as his school, I drove next door to N's school to pick up assignments. I was lucky enough to go to his Science classroom to get instructions from his teacher. This mostly involved laughing, eye rolling and dodging tennis balls. Middle school is an adventure.
Or a nightmare. It all depends on how old you are.
Aubs
Since one of my boys is home sick, I had to miss class yesterday. That meant I missed a quiz in one of my classes. I emailed my professor and explained the situation, and she wrote back the sweetest reply with, "In lieu of taking the quiz, why don't you write a 1 1/2 page response paper on the major arguments of the essays that you would have been quizzed over?"
Super. Let me just read those essays now, then. Sigh. Really, though, it's an interesting class. I mean, last week, we spent the entire hour looking at pictures of lynches. It was horrific. "Hey family, what should we do today, to bond? I know! Let's go to a lynching. Sally is 4 now...I think she's ready."
I'm all for dark and twisty at times, but that's a little too...I can't even think of a word. So.
I like chips.
I also still haven't read the essays or written a response. I have, however, fully caught up on every single episode of "Fixer Upper" and all but one of the "NCIS/NCIS NOLA" episodes on my dvr. A girl has to have her priorities. Besides, I simply HAVE to know what kind of trouble Chip and Joanna Gaines are going to find when they start ripping the ugliest house on the block apart, and literally hold my breath while they call the homeowner to tell them how expensive the unforeseen expense will be, then exhale and fist pump when they say, "Okay, do it." I don't feel like this is an issue.
For the record, I've been half-working on this blog for an hour (during commercial breaks, breaks I can skip through because it's a RECORDING, but I always forget about that until it's started again and then I skip ahead too far and have to go back and wind up with commercials again...it's a hard-knock life). I have been looking at my closed book of essays for roughly 2 hours, psyching myself up to open it. I feel like I'm almost there...but once I get there, B will be home (assuming he remembers to ride the bus), and we will be working on 460 math problems. It might be an exaggeration, but just barely. I think he's up to 360 tonight. Sheesh!
His stepmom and I had a conference at his school today to discuss his behavior (which has been abysmal lately), and when I went to say goodbye to him in the cafeteria, one of the other boys asked if I was B's mom. I told him I was, then introduced his stepmom, and everyone looked puzzled for a minute...then another kid asked if stepmom and I were sisters. This is not the first time this has happened, but let's have a moment of silence while we mull that one over, shall we? Because that wouldn't be weird or awkward or anything.
Yikes. Moving right along...after I finished as his school, I drove next door to N's school to pick up assignments. I was lucky enough to go to his Science classroom to get instructions from his teacher. This mostly involved laughing, eye rolling and dodging tennis balls. Middle school is an adventure.
Or a nightmare. It all depends on how old you are.
Aubs
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