That’s a first

I should be studying.  The test is Thursday morning.  I’m not feeling very prepared.  The boys are playing a video game for a little while, and so I should hit the books.  I do have one amazing saving grace.

Vacation Bible School.

Not only is it all morning all week but it includes Aidan too!  All three boys are out of the house for three hours every morning, which gives (gave) me three mornings to study.  It’s amazing!  It’s wonderful!  I’ve even survived the guilt trip of being begged to volunteer.  “I can’t.  I’d love to, but I can’t.  I have my teaching certificate test this week.”  “OH!  Study!  Take the time to study!  Your boys will be fine.”  Thanks.

The boys got ready quickly.  Aidan even used the bathroom.  (Awkward potty stage of only using the potty when naked)  I gave Aidan a little backpack with an extra diaper, wipes, and a sandwich bag.  He nearly skipped through the parking lot.

I got the boys’ group assignments.  I dropped Evan first and forced him into his VBS shirt.  Then I left Sean, who didn’t give me any trouble with his shirt, with his group.  Then I found Aidan’s group.

Teacher: Oh good!  A boy!  I was worried we would have all girls.

The girls were around 5 and 6.  But Aidan’s name was on the list.  I signed him in just like I did with the other boys.

Teacher: Here’s his shirt if you could put it on.

Aidan was helpful.

Teacher: Don’t worry, Mama.  He’ll be fine.  He’ll have lots of fun.  We’ll take good care of him.

“We’ll take good care of him.”  My baby.  My baby is going to school.  Ish.  He’s going to be away from me and with strangers for three hours.  My baby.

Me: Well, he has a backpack with a diaper and wipes.

Aidan nodded and turned to show off his backpack.

Aidan: My backpack!

Teacher: Thank you.  I’m sure we won’t need it.  We’ll be fine.

My baby.

I gave Aidan a hug and kiss.

Me: Remember to listen and do as you’re told.  Have fun.  Bye, sweetheart.

He sat down with the rest of the girls and began coloring with them.

My baby!  My baby is at school.  Ish.

I walked away and watched.  Maybe I should stay.  Even though I have to go grocery shopping before I study.  I need to study.  But my baby might need me.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.  The Sweet Girl’s Mother.  (See that.  I need better nicknames.)

Friend: Hi!

Me: Hi.

Friend: How are you doing?

I looked over to Aidan’s group.

Me: Aidan.  It’s his first time in something like that.

She rubbed my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye.

Friend: He’ll be fine.  We’ll take care of him.

Tears welled in my eyes.

Me: (nodding) Ok.

Friend: He’ll be fine.  (beat) Hey, don’t you have a big test?

Me: Right.  Ok.  It’ll be fine.  You’re here.  Half a dozen moms that know him are here and about two dozen kids who know him.  (She nodded.)  It’ll be fine.  Ok.  All right.  I’m going to go.  (She nodded.)  Good luck,

Friend: You too.

Me: Thanks.

And I ran out and to the car before I could start crying or volunteer to be with Aidan.

Recap 6/14

1. It was that busy of a day.  That and I took a nap.

2. I’ve dealt with way too much vomit this week.  It needs to stop.

3. My parents got into this super cute squirt gun fight while helping me put the kids in the car.  That, folks, was what my parents were like growing up.  Playful and funny.  I wish they were more like that now with each other, not just with my boys, my brothers, and I.

4. Buying Father’s Day gifts, buying Father’s Day cards, and figuring out what to write in those cards was really difficult this year.  Then I realized I don’t like 2 of the 3 men I’m celebrating.  But I will keep participating to teach my boys to honor their father and their family as well as expect to be honored as they do their part as fathers.

5. Sean is swimming so much better now that he has goggles.  Also he dislikes swim class so much he failed to remember to put on his swimsuit this morning.  Right.

6. I’m so not impressed with the divorce parenting book the mediator gave us.  Every day I read something that makes me want to hurl the book out the window.  I need a better book.

7. Aidan lets me know when he needs to throw up.  It’s cute.  And fortunate.  Except the poor kid vomits.  Today it came out his nose too.  Poor little guy.

8. A woman at Walmart asked, “Three boys?”  I said, “yes.”  “We’ll keep you in our prayers.”  I’ve been getting that a lot lately.

9. Evan wore pajamas to play in the sprinkler one morning because it was “cold.”  A June morning in Southern Arizona.  That kid.

10. Thursday is my big teaching exam.  I’m buried in notes.  If one person tells me “don’t worry about it you’ll be fine,” I’ll yell.

The 5. I did read blogs this week!  And eat an apple!  Possibly more than one, I can’t remember.  No art or crafts though.  That sucks.  Really, really sucks.

Teaching Empathy

I’m struggling with teaching Evan empathy.  I understand that at his age he doesn’t have much and he’s not suppose to, but I think he lacks more than he should.  So I came up with the Kindness Tree.  I’m still learning from other moms.

Like my friend, the mother of K & G.  (I really should give her a nickname; I’ll have to think on that.)  We were hanging out the other day as our kids played together.

Friend: I don’t get K.  She is just so self-centered all the time.  She only thinks about herself.  When her brother wants to play with her, she won’t play with him until he plays what she wants.  And if he starts winning or trying to change the game, she just pouts until she gets her way.  Seriously, what the hell?  And then the other day G bought a video game, and K refused to pitch in, but as soon as we got home, she ripped into it and tried to play AND be number 1 player!  I made her stop and sit outside the room; while, I asked G if he wanted K to play.  He answered no and that he wanted to play by himself a little bit.  So I made K wait 15 minutes before asking G if he wanted his sister to play.  Or today!  She wanted to play with another friend and threw a fit when she heard we were coming here.  She said she didn’t like Evan as much as her other friend.  Are you kidding me?  She loves Evan!  I told her she wasn’t allowed to say that to Evan and hurt his feelings and told her how mean that was to say.  I. Just. Don’t. Know. What. To. Do. With. Her.

This probably was a good time to break out the beers, but it was nearly dinner and they had to leave soon.  So I told her about the Kindness Tree.

Me: Or when you watch shows and movies with her discuss how the characters are acting and feeling.  When someone does something hurtful or mean, ask K if she thought that was wrong and ask her why.  Ask her what she thought the other characters felt.  Ask her what she would do different if she was the villain.  Ask her how she would feel being the other character.  Talk to her.  Show her.  It’s natural for them to be self-centered, but damn, I know.  Evan.  I could wring his neck sometimes.  But we discuss empathy.  It’s part of the family motto.  “Ædificabat insolitam superesse.”  I tell them to survive an adventure they needed intelligence, courage, and empathy.  God, parenting is hard.

Friend: No kidding.

And like most conversations that I have, I don’t relate them here.  Unless they seem interesting or important or funny.  Or ironic.

The next day, we went out for dessert with the boys.  As we sat there, a waitress came over to talk to the boys.  When we told her their ages, she told us about her 3-almost-4yr-old daughter, who goes to daycare down the street.

Waitress: One day she comes home singing a song that I don’t know.  And I have to look it up.  She likes Justin Bieber.  The before and after care girls taught her about him.  And now she’s like obsessed.  Which is so weird because all I play is country.  The other day she and her best friend made three 7 yr olds cry because she told them that they weren’t Justin Bieber’s girlfriends; she and her bff were his girlfriends.  They weren’t pretty enough to be Justin Bieber’s girlfriends.

My jaw dropped.  God, girls are mean.  And they’re starting out young.  And why are 7yr olds and 4yr olds listening to Justin Bieber, and aren’t they all a little young to be thinking about boyfriends?  And God, girls are mean.

Waitress: The school called me and told me, and I was like what do you expect me to do about it.

Me: Teach her empathy-

Waitress: Ground her?  It’s their job to watch the kids.  I talked to other mom, and she thought it was hilarious.  I mean 3-almost-4yr olds taking on 7yrs olds and making them cry.  My girl sure is tough.

Me: Sure, if making other kids cry is tough.

But like the comment before, she didn’t hear me say this one.  Or chose to.

Apparently we all approach empathy a little differently.

That Could Be Worse

It all started out at 5.  In the morning.  God, couldn’t they just outlaw those?  Apparently the Ex forgot to close the blinds the night before when he watched the kids while I went out with friends.  Sure, it was an accident, but in my head the discussion was this is why I never should go out.

So Evan and Sean were up and awake and in action at 5am.  But not for long.  Because Sean started to complain about a pain in his leg.  “It’s just a growing pain.  Go back to sleep!”  But he cried and whined and moaned and yelled and cried.  It was serious enough that I dragged my tired self out of bed and gave him pain medication.  I picked him up and put him into bed at 6am.

Now Evan was jumping around my bed, but thirty minutes later he snuggled against me and fell back to sleep, where I tried to follow him.

But I was startled by a toddler face next to mine.  “You awake?  Want juice!  Peeeeassse!”  I tried to ignore him.  “Juice!  Mommy!  Juice!”  So I went down stairs and gave him some juice.  I started back the stairs.  But Aidan said, “Stay downstairs!  Mommy!  Play!  Stay downstairs and play!”  Well, with no one else up, I stayed and played and started making breakfast.

But then Evan came down and threw up an apple.  When did he eat an apple?  Of course, when he was awake at 5am.  What’s the point of making breakfast if my breakfast eater can’t eat?  So I gave him oyster crackers, and Aidan asked for some too.

By this time, Sean was awake and crying in pain.  I rubbed his leg, and he cried more.  I stretched his leg, and he cried more.  After consulting the Internet and learning growing pains are a myth (Awesome), I called my parents to ask if I could borrow a heating pad and could they bring it over please, pretty please.  Of course, it’s for their grandson.

While I waited I realized we might be bound to the house, so I stripped off Aidan’s diaper and placed him on the pot.  Potty training day!  I put on some Star Wars Clone Wars to help Sean take his mind off his pain, to keep Evan glued to one spot as I checked to see how “sick” he was, and to keep Aidan on the pot.  I heated a towel for Sean to place on his leg.  Welcome to DVD Day!

Soon we had a heating pad and a quick, cheerful visit from Grandma.  Back to the crying, moaning, whining, and – what’s that sound?  Water hitting tile?  I’ll give them this, boys peeing naked on accident is hilarious to watch.

For the second time that day, I was thankful for tile floors.

Because Sean’s leg still felt horrible, I gave him a little more pain medication and realized that wasn’t helping at all.  So I begged for help on Facebook, where a friend suggested a hot tub.  I do not have a hot tub or access to one, but I have a bath and a water heater.  I ran a hot bath for Sean and placed him in it.  He stopped complaining, crying, whining, and moaning.  It worked.

About then the Ex made his appearance and settled himself on the couch where he stayed until dinner.  Apparently he was feeling crappy too.

So lunch was upon us, and I made lunch for the boys.  I consoled my misery and boredom with left overs from the night before.  I placed Aidan in bed.  He fell asleep promptly.  Amazingly.  I fell asleep promptly too when I tried to read an article on my phone.

Two hours later the older boys are watching cartoons.  The Ex and Aidan were still sleeping.  I tried to study.  Then Aidan was up, and I put on a movie for the boys.  Aidan kept using the potty.  The Ex woke up and hung out from his couch.  I cleaned here and there, trying to find something to do, but Sean’s whining always brought me to his side.  It never got as bad as it did in the morning.

Around dinner, the Ex announced he’ll get us food and then go.  Um, thanks?  The boys and I ate dinner.  Before we watched another movie, Aidan tried pooping on the potty.  Which didn’t work well.  For the third time that day, I was thankful for tile floors.

It could’ve been worse.  Evan never threw up again.  Sean’s “growing pain” did turn into a dull ache.  Aidan made it to the bathroom more times than not.  But I wouldn’t want to repeat that day.  At least, not for a long, long while.

Mediation

I don’t know how many of you know this, but I haven’t lived with my . . . husband . . . in two-and-half years.  I have been a single mother for two-and-half-years.

It’s weird to write that.  It’s weird to think it.  It’s weird to think that these are scars, not fresh wounds.  I’ve been wondering why everything seems so fresh.  Is it because he comes over several times a week to see the boys, and so he’s always here and I haven’t had a chance to heal properly?  Is it because if I admit that I do this – the parenting, the running of the household, going to school, all the parenting- that I might crack under the pressure?  My best friend thinks it’s because every time I get my feet under me, that I heal more, I’m thrown by some other stupid, soap-opera-ish twist that I have to absorb like a blow.

But it didn’t happen a few months ago, it happened two-and-half years ago.  When he decided and I agreed, that we needed to separate.  And I knew then it wasn’t temporary.  I knew months before that when he suggested separation.  I knew if he walked out that door to live somewhere else, he was never coming back.  Nor should he.

Our marriage had cancer.  He and I both gave our marriage cancer.  We made mistakes, acted foolishly, did stupid things.  But just over three-and-half years ago, he decided against chemo.  I just didn’t know it until three years ago.  Thanks, dude.  And then we limped along for another six months, and again instead of taking the chemo like he suggested, he refused it.  Again.  Then he walked out.  It was the right decision.

And in many ways, I’m lucky.  He didn’t disappear when he left.  He came over several nights a week and most of Saturday to spend time with the boys.  He also paid me what he always gave me before the separation.  He never questioned my spending.  He rarely questioned my parenting choices.  He took us out for meals.  He paid for the presents since my budget would make it a lean birthday or Christmas.  He paid for car maintenance and found the boys a dentist.  He’s paid for my schooling, so that I can become a teacher.  He has been a good provider.  I’m thankful for that.

Today we go to mediation.  And it scares me. I don’t want to lose my boys.  Even for every other weekend.  For the last eight years, I have been their primary parent.  While he went on business and guys trips, I took care of the boys.  While he worked ten hour days, I took care of the boys.  When he went out with his friends and employees, I stayed home and took care of the boys.  When he decided to build another life without them, I took care of the boys.  When he came over late or forgot or talked on the phone while he was here, I took care of the boys.  I have fed, clothed, bathed, taught, played with, disciplined, cooked for, encouraged, nurtured, nursed, held them.  I have taken them to doctor, dentist, and counselor appointments.  I’ve met and talked with teachers and coaches.  I have taken them to parties, events, activities, schools, practices, meetings, and visits with friends and family.  I have helped with homework and chores and workbooks.  I have battled fevers and nightmares.  I have washed clothes and toys and cleaned up vomit.  I’m their mommy.

I don’t want to fight with him.  He’s their father, an important part of their lives.  No matter what he has done to me, he is their father.  My pride, ego, and pain are nothing to that.  I want them to have a good relationship with him and eventually their stepmom and any stepsiblings.

But I want what is best for them.  That is more important than being fair in a divorce.  That’s what I have to remember what I’m fighting for.  This isn’t a battle for justification or revenge.  This is a negotiation to secure the best possible life for my boys, the collateral damage in this messy war.  I want the best for them, and I will fight for it.

Teaching at the Museum

Every Sunday during summer, the Children’s Museum has Science Sundays.  It’s $2 admission.  I get to entertain and educate the boys while keeping my house relatively clean for 8 bucks.  (Relative to how messy we left the house before going to church.)  The museum is small, but I have learned to stand in the corner and let them do their thing.  One area could take an hour, like the grocery store, and so we quickly fill our two hours before heading back for Aidan’s nap.

I prefer the rooms with building different types of tunnels or ball runs or rollercoasters or the room where you can write with light.  That way I get to play.  Though last weekend, I was drafted to play cashier at the grocery store.  Those years working for Home Depot as a cashier are really paying off.

There is an ocean area with a mural and fake coral growing up from the floor to the ceiling with boxes to show the innards of certain animals.  The big boys gravitate to the big pile of ocean puppets.

Last Sunday, Evan used the puppets to teach the younger children about the food chain.

Evan: And here is an octopus!

He wiggled the octopus on his right hand.

Evan: And here is a clownfish!

Evan wiggled the clownfish on his left hand.

Evan: And the octopus eats the clownfish!

The octopus seized the clownfish and attempted to eat it whole.

A little boy: It’s eating Nemo!

Evan: Yes, octopuses do that.

A mother looked at me.  I shrugged.

Me: It’s actually “octopi.”  But both forms can be used correctly.

My boy and I are going to be great teachers.

Another Sentence I Didn’t Think I would say

There are lots of sentences that I say that never occurred to me that I would say.  I witness events or actions that seemed impossible to take place.  And yet it all happens.  It’s part of parenthood.

Take Friday.  As I open the garage door and looked behind me to watch Evan and Sean sharing a toilet and Evan resting his elbow on Sean’s head.

Me: Keep your hands off your brother and on your penis!

Yes.  I had to say it.  Why did I have to say it?  Why would I ever have to say it?  Shouldn’t he already have known to not touch people when peeing?  To hold on and aim?

I was so underprepared for motherhood.

Pool vs Bathroom

I had to get out of the pool.

Sean: Mommy!  Where are you going?!

Me: I have to go to the bathroom.

The boys just looked at me.

Me: Because I don’t pee in the pool.  Like some people.

Evan and Sean started giggling like the little mad men that they are.  Aidan joined in.  Just as I thought.

Me: You shouldn’t pee in the pool.  It’s gross.  Very, very gross.

I spit that pool water out like a fountain.  (Last summer: Wally: God, are you like ten?  Me: {spitting again.}  Maybe.  It’s possible.  Wally: How do you do that?  Me: {spitting again} Practice.  Come on; you did water polo; you lived in California; you had to be the pool all the time.  Like me.  Wally: I didn’t learn to do that.  Me: {spitting again} That’s too bad.  {I did a somersault.}  Can you do this?  {I cupped water and shot it out of my hand.}  Wally: {in a jealous tone)}No!  Evan: Mommy is awesome!)

The boys kept giggling.  Evan had a devious look on his face.  Damn.  It must have been recently.

My Dad: Boys, you better be careful.  You pee in a pool too often, and your winky will turn purple.

Winky?  Winky?  Really?  Dad, come on.  Penis.  It’s a penis.

I raised an eyebrow.  My dad shot me a look.  I kept my mouth shut.

Evan and Sean: Really?

My Dad: (like a sage) Yes.

Evan: COOL!

Yeah.  That’s my boy.

The First Day of Summer

They were up at 6.  And I begged them to play quietly for a while.  Even though the toddler kept screaming, “JUICE!!!!” at the bottom of the stairs.

Then I told them to get ready, and we will go out to breakfast.  In the middle of the dash, I realized that I had several McDonald’s gift cards, and I thought Egg McMuffins might be slightly healthier than doughnuts.

To McDonald’s!  To the one that has a play area that includes toddlers!  So we got Egg McMuffins and hash browns and those cinnamon thingies and orange juice and chocolate milk.  Um, when did they take that apple-grape-walnut thing off the menu?  I miss that.  So the boys played and ate.  We hung out.  And it was awesome.

To the next stop!  We went to the mall before it opened!  I wanted to check out if it was a good option for walking in the summer.  The boys yelped and ran ahead, chasing each other, racing each other, making a loud commotion as kids often do.  I’m going to assume it didn’t bother the other walkers.

Then I let them run around in the kid playground in the mall, where they made fast new friends to play a great game of tag.  Aidan took me to all the little climbing things to show me how he can master them all.  Most of them without help.  The only thing was kind of awesome.

Then we had a snack of fruit leathers and juice and water before we ran off again.  The boys wanted something less healthy, but I had an awesome plan.

So we climbed in the car and raced off to the next stop.  The library!  We signed up for the reading program.  As we walked by a display, the boys each grabbed a book that intrigued them.  They all helped with check out AND kept the volume around  an acceptable indoor, first day of summer roar.

Now the plan was to go to the bigger dollar store if we had time.  And it would push it, but my mom wanted to go to the dollar store with us, which means to go to the smaller one.  Fine.  So we picked her up.  On the way, Evan read to Aidan the book Aidan picked out.  It was sweet.

To the dollar store!  For summer supplies!  Mainly supplies for fine motor skill activities for Sean.  But I let the boys all pick out one thing for fun, and I found crystal growing kits.  Not to be outdone by the toys, I picked up a water ball sling shot to match the boys’ water weapons.  This is going to be awesome!

Lunch!  I’ve been planning lunch for like two weeks.  But my mom modified the plan.  “Fae, they need something a little more to stick to their stomachs.”  Fine.  To the 50′s diner!  Where I informed the boys that they may have whatever ice cream treat they wanted for lunch.  Sean got a chocolate milk shake.  Evan got a junior hot fudge sundae.  Aidan got a mini chocolate sundae.  My mom got a chocolate milk shake.  I ordered the same thing Evan had and took the other half of Sean’s milk shake.  For substance, we ordered chicken tenders, fries, and mini chimis.  The boys were so surprised they were allowed to have ice cream for lunch.  It was awesome!

Then nap.  That too was awesome.  The older boys rested and then played video games without fighting.

Then Sean opened up his birthday gifts from his party the night before.  The theme of the gifts was crafts and things to do.  And Sean thought that was awesome.

Then it was to grandma’s house for tie-dying.  Which became problematic because my mom hadn’t washed her shirts, and then she refused to wash just two shirts in the quick cycle.  Mothers.  But we all got ready to go swimming and prepped the craft.  Then we tie-dyed!  It was awesome.  Even with the worry we might run out of dye.

Into the pool!  I actually swam.  The boys played.  I tossed Aidan around.  God, I love swimming.

Then back home for a later than usual dinner of fish tacos.  I meant to do s’mores or a movie or something, but by then we ran out of interest and steam.  But dinner was still awesome.

It was an awesome day.

Until I told my dad about it.

“So what you’re saying is the rest of the summer is all down hill from here.”

No- I can- Still – it was.

Crap.

He might be right.

Summer

It’s summer.  It began at 12:25 today.  Both boys are out of school.  I’ve had a week to prepare.

At first, I was like, OH my god, this is going to be the best summer ev-er!  We’ll go swimming and do crafts and do science experiments and read and go exploring and see free movies and do Science Sundays at the Children’s Museum and maybe camping and a weekend trip.  This is going to rock!

And then Monday as I was grocery shopping, I looked down at Aidan and realized that the next Monday I’ll be grocery shopping with three boys.  Trying to control three boys in the grocery store.  I remembered going to Target a few days before with the boys and thought I was going to have to abandon them.  And then I remembered last year when I spent all summer in parent-detention, stuck sitting at the table, waiting for the boys to finish their workbooks.  Some days it took 6 hours to do 2 pages in the workbook.  I was like shoot me; shoot me now.

Then I had a panic attack.  A small one.  That lasted 5 minutes.

For the last several days, I’ve been swinging between excitement and despair.

I have plans.  Like no video games if the workbooks aren’t done, but I’m might be missing the loop-hole.  Evan and Sean have to read every day, which Evan will enjoy.  Sean has to do fine motor skill activities every day, and I have a whole bunch of stickers to reward him with.  A friend suggested the boys and I make a plan for the summer so the boys know what to expect.  I’ve learned to find all kinds of free or cheap things to do.  I feel like I need to make a lesson plan for the summer.  Maybe I should.  Then I would have more practice on writing them.  Then again that is possibly insane.  Extremely rigid.  Probably not good for my codependency.

Somehow I will figure this out.

But tomorrow.  Tomorrow.  We’ll celebrate the first day of summer in style.  Out for breakfast.  Walking at the mall to try it out.  Sign up for the summer reading program at the library.  Ice cream lunch.  Making tie-dye shirts.  Swimming.  Fish tacos.  It’s going to be awesome.

Maybe.

Hopefully.