Recap 5/18

1. I think I’m addicted to busy weeks.  I wonder if a career will be just as stimulating as staying home to raise the boys.

2. Then again.  I am looking forward to a couple of months not driving Evan to all his activities.  But I think I’ll be bored with staying home in two weeks.  Then all the camps and actvitites will be full.

3. Sean is convinced that kindergarten will be easier.

4. Yesterday Evan changed the word “but” on the dry erase board to “butt.”  His teacher wasn’t amused.  I was.  I just didn’t show it.

5. The problem with mom-friends is they are always on-call.  When husbands work late.  When children get sick.  Plans fall through.

6. I took my mom out for lunch for Mother’s Day and learned all about her dating history. 

7. I do not need Mother’s Day gifts before 6am, no matter what Evan tells you.

8. Aidan is now calling me “My Mommy.”  I blame my dad.

9. It’s possible.  Ever so slightly possible.  That I may have a nail polish problem.  How many is too many?

10. I do a lot better with getting stuff done when I have a list.   Hmmm.

Recap 5/4

1. I’m going to stop being so shocked it’s Friday because at this point I only have myself to blame on the lack of getting stuff done that want to.

2. Thank you whoever taught Evan Slug Bug.  I’ve been waiting for years for this moment. 

3. I took the Tornadoes to a cheaper version of Chuck E. Cheese last night, and we did fine.  I didn’t lose a kid, and all edible substances stayed firmly on trays, in hands, and on the table.

4. Sean is teaching me chess.  I’m starting to think he’s making up the rules as we go.  Um, a pawn can’t jump over a whole bunch of other pieces, can it?  What are the rules on adding Sith Lords and giant robots to the game?

5. Aidan is in repeat mode.  “Yeah ducks!”  “Thank you.” “What the?”

6. I used to complain about the bedtime rebellion.  They no longer attack at night.  They rebel in the morning.  War is hell.

7. It’s probably a good idea not to post on Facebook parental problems with a divorce pending.

8.  You know what would be awesome?  The county calling me back, so I can reserve a ramada for Sean’s birthday.  That would be awesome.

9. Ah!  I haven’t done my nails all week.  Huh.  So that’s what they look like under bright, loud nail polish.  I do have my eyes on this.  That’s cool.

10. Some notes to some brilliant parents.

Dear Dad on the dirt bike, Congratulations on your protest against government intrusion.  It’s your brain, and if you want it splattered all over the pavement in a car accident, that’s your right here in the great state of Arizona.  But it’s against the law for you to make that decision for your 10-year-old kid.  And stupid.  Really, really stupid.

Dear Dad in the convertible, I get it.  Car seats are a pain in the ass, and studies may prove they might not be as effective as we think.  But that kid that I can’t see because he’s so little I can only see the very top of his head over the door, that kid, he needs a booster seat.  At least.  And probably goes for his brother next to him.  And your other son.  I hope you turned off the air bag.  And failing to properly restrain your kids, maybe you should leave the top up.  Just in case.

 

It’s May.

And I hate the first part of May.  I used to love it.  It was strawberry season and picnic season.  The weather was warm but not hot.  Summer was fast approaching with the promise of watermelon and swimming every day.  Birthday parties, end of the year parties, and all sorts of events happened in May.  But I’m sensitive and emotional.  And then I had kids.

Maybe it’s more like I’m highly emotional.  It manifested itself in third grade as I tried to swallow my sobs, tears streaming down my face as I endured watching the end of Uncle Tom’s Cabin.  “Fae is crying.”  “Fae is crying.”  The whisper went through the two classes, and everyone turned from the movie to see that I was crying.  That was just one more thing to add to the list of things to tease me about.

It got worse as I got older.  I became a reader.  I can’t tell you how many times my dad walked in to see me crying over a book.  He would awkwardly stand and try to ease my pain. ”Fae, it’s just a book.  It’s not real.  No one died.”  Failing to comfort me, he did what the clan always does, he made jokes until I laughed through my tears.   Thanks, Dad.  You truly were a boon during those  chaotic, emotionally charged years of puberty.

Then there were the college years of going to the movies with the film students.  The boy film students.  Then I would hide my tears as best as I could.  Sometimes it would work.  Well, until the lights came up and my eyes were bright teal shaded with red.  “Gee, Fae, were you crying?”  A “no” sounded childish, defiant, and a lie.  Even though that awkwardness held above us, the boys would oddly become protective of me.  And being childish and defiant, I was annoyed by that.

Now the girl friends would get it.  And sometimes cry with me.  If one of them interrupted me over a book, the response was always, “Call me as soon as your done.”  But it always seemed to be a male to witness the crumbling of my walls.

Fine.  I just stopped going to movies that made me cry with guys.  Which sometimes was a hit or miss.  I stopped reading the ending of books around guys.  Done and done.

Until I got pregnant.  And May happened.  Do you know what “holiday” is in May?  Mother’s Day.  Do you know what they show on TV during the first part of May?  Mother’s Day gift and card commercials.  Do you know what I have to do in May?  Buy Mother’s Day cards!

Before pregnancy, before kids, none of that bothered me.  I would search the cards for something to make my mom cry.  Now.  I cry over every card.  Except the humor ones.  My mother no longer receives sweet, sentimental cards from me.

Before pregnancy, before kids, I could watch those stupid, sappy, sweet commercials about Moms and kids.  Now.  I cry.  Hallmark kills me.  Sometimes all I have to do is think of a highly emotionally charged commercial and tears spring from my eyes.  It’s ridiculous.

Fine.  No watching sappy movies.  No reading the ends of books around people.  And now no TV or reading cards in May.

This is getting ridiculous.

Recap 4/27

1. Holy Crap!  It’s Friday!

2. Speaking of “crap,” someone told Evan about John Crapper.  And he thought that would get him a pass on saying “crap.”  I started with sending him to time out.  I have yet sat him down to explain the truths and myths of inventors, toilets, and their uses.

3. So I took Aidan for his two-year check up.  He has ear infections in both ears.  The doctor said something like “looks like it’s chronic.”  I’m waiting for my “Mom of the Year” plaque to come in the mail any moment.

4. It was crazy hair day at Evan’s school.  He went with blue and red stripes.  How could I deny Sean red hair?  He l0oks good as a red-head.

5. Every day three category 5 tornadoes have hit the house.  Or that’s what the house looks like.  Even after they pick up their toys.  Leaving me with almost no time to do anything but clean.

6. I love my new mom friend.  She’s hilarious.

7. You know you have true friends when you can tease on of them about masturbation and the whole group, including the friend, laughs.  I thought I might have crossed a line.

8. There were two SNAKES in my yard this week.  On the SAME DAY!  Sometimes I hate the f-ing desert!

9.  I think I have a caffeine problem.  But I’m ok with that.  I’m more concerned that I will lose all will power for two days in two days time and I have tons of chocolate in the house.  I need someone to manage me.

10. I have no done well in time management.  That really, really, really, really sucks.

Just a Friendly Chat

“Hey, Evan’s Mom.”

I looked over to see Sweet Girl’s father walking up to me.  I found it amusing he didn’t know my name, even though I knew his.  But he never did the drop off the last two years, so we’ve only met at Sweet Girl’s birthday parties and school events. 

Me: Hey, Sweet Girl’s Dad!

SGD: Are your boys having a good time?

I looked over my shoulder at Sean and Evan diving into cupcakes.  I returned my gaze on Aidan who was thrilled to find another father to play catch with him.  He had already manipulated SGD to play with him earlier.

Me: They are.  Especially Aidan (as I pointed to him.)  Thank you for the party.

SGD: It’s good to see Sweet Girl play with all her friends.  (pause)  Sweet Girl’s mom really enjoys those nights out. 

Me: I love hanging out with her.  She’s so much fun.

SGD: I know she likes them because she tells me she’ll be home at 8, and then I get a text at 9:30, saying she’s on her way home.

I laughed.

SGD: But they’re good for her.  You should organize more of them.  This time was the first time I gave Sweet Girl a bath!

I chuckled.

Me: Soon you can just chuck her into the shower.

SGD: Is she old enough for that?

Me: Evan takes them some times.  He twirls underneath the water.  I have to drag him out.

SGD: Ha.  (We watched Aidan.)  He’s a cute one.  And, um, so is Evan.

Me: Thanks.  But Sweet Girl is so cute and sweet and smart.  She loves playing with Aidan when she comes over to our house.  A mamacita.

SGD: She’s a good kid.  I had nothing to do with it.  It’s all her mother.  So you have . . . two boys?

Me: No.  Three.  Evan.  Sean, who is turning 5.  And Aidan.

SGD: Who is three?

Me: Two.  He thinks he’s six thought.

SGD: You must be busy.

Me: Never a dull moment.

SGD: I wanted more, but Sweet Girl’s Mom is done.  It’s fine.  I’m lucky to have Sweet Girl.  I’m so glad she’s a girl.  The men in my family don’t do well with boys.

I chuckled.  I had heard that before, but I told that guy to suck it up and deal if he wanted to be a parent of any children.

Me: I’m sure you would have done fine.  Aidan likes you.

On cue, Aidan lost the ball, which rolled to us.  SGD stopped it and rolled it back.  Aidan snagged it, laughed, and ran back to his new playmate.

Pause.

Me: So how are you?

SGD: Um.  Uh.  I’ve never had a mom ask me that before.  I don’t think most these moms know who I am.

Me: We could make you a name tag.

SGQ: That might help.

Me: So how are you?

SGD: Fine.  (I opened up my mouth for the follow-up question.) Oh, there’s my brother-in-law (who had been there the whole time).  I should, uh, um, talk to him.

He ran off. 

Huh, I usually do better than that with dads.  Heck, K’s and G’s dad wants to make me a drinking buddy.

I should really tell him I don’t drink.

The Dress

I was on a hunt for a nice shirt for Aidan for Easter, and I walked into a department store that had a mad sale going on.  After getting accosted by a saleswoman trying to get me to look at shoes or maybe running shorts or just give them my email, I dashed by the women’s department on my search for the toddler boy section, no matter how small it was.

But I stopped short.  I saw a dress.  A beautiful dress with what looked like-  Focus.  Focus.  Focus.

Off I ran to the toddler boy section and looked at the three racks squeezed in between the bloated baby girl section and the overstuffed toddler girl section.  Luck was with me because I found a cute, blue, plaid, button-up, short-sleeve shirt for Aidan.  It was also on sale because I would be hard pressed to spend that much money on a toddler’s shirt.

I walked back down the aisles, enjoying the peace of not scolding, nagging, yelling, dragging, waiting, pulling, pushing, snarling that always happens when the boys are shopping with me without a shopping cart.  (For some reason, those shopping carts help ease the tension.  Maybe because gripping the shopping cart gives me a physical release for the frustration of dealing with three tornadoes in public.)  Before long, I saw the dress.

I was right.  It had the same cut and style as the dress I’d been admiring at the sew shop.  I was thinking of tackling it, but I have sewing issues.  Like picking out a material I won’t hate after I make the dress.  Liking staying interested enough to finish it.  Like being calm as I resew a seam because I can’t cut or sew in a straight line.  But I digress.

It was cut to flatter a woman’s body.  It had straps.  It was white with large pink flowers.  Well, I would definitely spill chocolate on the white.  And pink.  Could I handle pink again after so many years of avoiding it like the pox when I outgrew princesses and Barbies?  Though the girl in the T-Mobil ads always looked cute. 

I checked the price.

I couldn’t.

It was on sale.  60% off. 

But I couldn’t.  It’s just too much money.  I just bought Evan several pairs of shorts, and he’ll need more.  I needed to buy Aidan new clothes for his birthday.  I just went over budget with Easter.  I needed to buy good sandals for myself.  I needed to buy the boys sandals.  Aidan will need new shoes soon.  And that dress was over half a week’s worth of groceries.

I walked away with my mind on the dress. 

I checked out, thinking I should’ve looked at the tag for washing instructions.

I walked to my car, thinking I should have at least tried it on.

I pulled out on the street, thinking of places and reasons I could wear the dress.

I stopped at the stop light and remembered saying earlier that day, “It’s forty bucks.  Just get it.”

Ah, crap. 

I wanted to get a Pandora charm with an A on it.  The dress cost just more than that.  I wanted to buy a color deck.  The dress was the same price.  I ended up buying iTune gift cards at nearly the same price point as that.  I’m sure I spent the amount of the dress on used books for the boys and I over the last month.  It was cheaper than the thing I told someone to buy.

I saw the dress as a frivolous want.  Something that wasn’t practical; something that wasn’t a need; something that was unimportant because I wanted it.  Never mind that I would have worn it other places, other times.  I was sacrificing for my family.  And I’m good at that.

And that, folks, is innocent side of co-dependency.  I could have bought it, but I didn’t want to waste the family funds on me.  I wanted to sacrifice for my family for no reason but to sacrifice.  It’s really silly.  I know it’s not the first time.  I know other mothers do it.  I watched my own mother deal with it.  I’m a little disappointed that I did this to myself.  I’ve been working so hard-

Scratch that.  I haven’t.  I made little strides, and I kept those.  I go to out with the girl’s once a month.  But that’s the only time I have to myself without putting kids to bed or turning on the TV.  I’ve started spending money on books again.  But only at the used bookstore.  The DVDs I’ve bought recently are for the kids.  I do get away once every couple of months, and I manage to feel guilt-free on that.

It’s time for me to work a little harder on this co-dependency thing.  There’s a place for self-sacrifice, but it means little if it is done just because.  I need to leave the house more and let the ex handle the kids.  He deserves that.  I need start balancing my wants in with all the needs.  I think I’ll call a friend who is amazing in the thrift stores to show me a how she does it.  That would kill two birds with one stone quite nicely.

Recap 4/20

1. I’m late.  I had an afternoon playdate that went much longer than expected.  Which was fine.

2. It was Sean’s first playdate he asked for.  And the boy had a little brother Aidan’s age and a super cool mom.

3. The Friendly Giant bought Aidan a bear for his birthday.  A 53 inch tall bear.  We need a bigger bed.

4. Balancing the things I have to do and want to do fell apart this week.

5. But I still went out with the girls for guilt-free eating and guilt-free talking.

6. Even though I promised to get more sleep and have got more sleep, I’m still tired.  If I’m going to be tired, I might as well stay up.

7. Pre-summer is in full swing.  Now to convince Evan to stop wearing long sleeve shirts and pants to school.

8. I want to try some new recipes, but I doubt the boys will eat them.  So I find myself not wanting to make the effort.  I want someone to cook for.

9. But Aidan and Sean have decided they like my apple-strawberry salsa with cinnamon chips (aka my snack crack).  I have mix feeling about this.

10.  According to WordPress, this is my 1,000 post.  I should have confetti and pie or something.  But then I remembered I did some “spring cleaning” last year and took down a bunch of posts.  So I’m well over 1,000 posts.  I don’t know how to feel about this.  Maybe there’s a shark to jump somewhere . . . .

The Librarian

On Saturday I had to (had to, had to) go to the library.  It was the last day to use canned foods to pay off library fines.  Once a year, I tend to forget I have books and then keep them a week or two longer.  So sad.  But I love the canned food drive week.  I donate to a good cause and pay back the library.  Win-win.

After Aidan’s nap, I packed up the boys and headed out.  The boys stared at The Lego Club designs for a good five minutes, planning what they would build next time we go.  Actually Evan was planning.  Sean was picking out the Lego people he would hunt for next meeting.  Aidan was running around and around the display case, forcing himself in between to cases.  Finally, I grew bored and shooed them into the library. 

Since the ogling took so long, both librarians were busy.  I stopped to wait as Evan and Sean perused the kid section next to the desk.  Aidan made a bee-line for the rest of the library.  I scooped him up and held him as I waited my turn.  Being nearly two and incredibly independent as well as believing he is six, Aidan through a temper tantrum, hollering and thrashing in my arms as I ignored it.

A man, being “helped” by a librarian, as she scurried around the library for him as he stood at the desk, turned around and glared at me.  He stood there, glaring at me. Just two feet away.  Not one to be intimidated by jerks, I glared back.  All the while, Aidan is hollering.

The other librarian became free after a minute and called me over.  I set Aidan down in front of me and explained why I was there.  As soon as he was set down, Aidan stopped throwing his temper tantrum and wanted up again.  Of course he does, he was two the next day.  I paid my fines and wished the librarian a good day.  She smiled and did the same.

I walked into the children’s section and told the boys that they could pick out a DVD and some books.  As Evan and I scanned the titles, Aidan was thrilled to pull out DVDs off the shelves.  I replaced them right back where he got them.  He then turned to a shelf of books, which I stopped him.  He turned back to the DVDs, and I reshelved.  He went back to the books.  Honestly.  That’s enough.

I told him no.

And he acted two and threw a temper tantrum.

Yeah.  Right.

“You may not pull out the books.  Throw your temper here and be done with it.”

With the screaming and hollering time seemed to speed up as I scrambled to put away all the DVDs and the few books.  Are you kidding me?  After what felt like five minutes to me, but surely was only two minutes to the rest of the world that didn’t have a screaming toddler, I decided the hell with this, let’s retreat.

“Boys.  We’re going.  Put things away.” 

I bent down to pick up the last book.

“Here.  I’ll take that.”

I hadn’t heard that tone since Catholic school.  Icy, displeased authority.  I never handled that ton well.  As a meek Catholic school girl, I would do as told with angry tears pricking my eyes, wishing to avenge myself.  Until eighth grade, then I would smile a sharp smile and do as told.  My way with a jab.

I wasn’t meek anymore.  I straightened up and looked into the eyes of the librarian that was scurrying back and forth earlier. 

And I knew she was there to ask me to leave. 

“Thank you,” I replied in a sweet, dangerous voice.  Please ask me to leave.  Please.  I’m a single parent with a screaming toddler, no idea what to make for dinner, and haven’t had a parent break without errands since the third weekend in March, and there seems to be a war on women and motherhood and toddlers.  So please ask me to leave.  I’m ready for a fight.

Ignoring the librarian, I picked up Aidan who lowered the volume a bit. 

“Come on, boys.  We’re going.”

I walked past her without a glance, screaming child in my arms, two tornadoes trailing me.  As I walked by the library desk, the man was still staring, glaring at me.  I shot him a look to kill as I marched past him.  Near the exit, a woman shot me a dark look.  I gave her a look right back.  It’s possible that I might have stuck out my tongue.

I wish she had said something.  God, I wish she had.

Because I would have said, “Seeing that this library has quite a few board books and picture books as well as toddler story time, I naturally assumed toddlers were welcomed.  If toddlers are welcomed, then an occasional tantrum is to be expected.  Seeing that we are in the children’s section and all, I think we’re in the safety area.”

My first thought of revenge was to never go back to that library again.  But then I realized that would do no good at all.  I’ve decided we’re going back to the library a lot more.  A LOT more.

Recap 4/13

1. The annual laughing in church didn’t take place this year because I set the wrong time on the alarm.

2. Surprisingly enough, Aidan was hit the hardest with the latest cold the boys shared.

3. And see?  Even sharing a fork with a very sick toddler did not bring me to my knees!  (Add sinister laugh.)

4. We have entered the physical fighting stage of sibling rivalry.  Damn.  It sucks.

5. I could never home school Evan.  He has to test my authority with every step.  Even when playing catch.

6. Sean is made up of strong stuff.  He can ignore his grandma trying to give him a hard time for his shoes.

7. And yes, my mom criticized me for the way my boys dressed yesterday.

8. How can a two-year-old be hard to shop for?

9. This week I got a good handle on my time.  I love it when I can balance everything like chores, writing, and reading.  And projects, homework, and sports.

10. I’ve got to start collecting The Simpson seasons again.  Watching the DVDs with the boys was awesome.

Recap 4/6

1. It took three evenings, but the house was ready to be torn up for company with enough time to salvage it for Easter.

2. I forgot to post the craft that we did last weekend.

3. Best laid plans are nearly always destroyed.  Or mine are.

4. “First things first.”  I have to remember that.  I need a more clever way of saying that.

5. Sean refuses to wiggle his tooth, so it’s sitting in his mouth crooked.  It looks horrible.

6. All boys were/are fighting a slight 24 hour bug.  A slight fever, runny nose, and a cough.

7. Evan has to do his first and second book reports this break.  I wish his teacher had spread them out more.

8. I really thinks it’s time to start looking for an Aidan bed.

9. I had the most brilliant post idea today.  And then I forgot to write it down.

10. Since the house is clean-ish, I should have time to read blogs and write emails.  Maybe look at Facebook.  Oh wait.  There’s the mountain of laundry.  Dang.