So the last couple of weeks have been...interesting, shall we say? We went to an outdoor birthday party last Sunday...and it stormed. Oh, that was fun. Kids banging away on a piñata (one that strangely enough made a metallic clanging sound if they hit it right), while all around us thunder boomed, lightning flashed, and the rain blew sideways under the pavilion roof at us. Yay!
Wednesday was a half day at school, and it was another fun day. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning, only an hour and a half before the end of school. I was lucky enough to get there early, and they were able to get me in early. But then...the boys had appointments for eye exams that afternoon. And all that time I saved in the morning...was lost. And then some. Three hours for eye exams. The only plus to that was that their eyes haven't really changed. Which is good, but also makes it all the more frustrating that we were three for THREE hours!
But, the really exciting news is: J is done with speech therapy! They scheduled a meeting for last Thursday at the school, and when I went in, they told me he'd met all his goals, and was graduating from speech therapy. That absolutely made my week. I am so proud of him. He worked so hard and tried so much to overcome the impairment and he did it. He still can be hard to understand when he gets very excited or if he is very upset, but if you tell him to calm down and tell you again, he will. He also will stop and think while he's talking to make sure he uses the right word and says it clearly. It's a technique they taught him to cope with the speech impairment, but he's really taken it to heart and it makes a huge difference to how he speaks.
They are having the World's Fair at school next month. This is something they do every year. Each classroom does a different country, and they do all kinds of little projects to display, and they learn tons of little facts about the country their class is working on, and on the night of the fair, they always learn a fact or two about all the other countries, in order to get a stamp on their "passport". It's a wonderful learning experience, both for the kids and the parents. J's class is doing the United States. His teacher always tries to get a picture postcard from each state. They almost had all of them last year. This year...well, she's going to have quite a few. With D being a truck driver, I've enlisted him to help with this little project. I figure he's the ideal person to help us get a lot of postcards. J's teacher is quite excited at the prospect. I figure J will be excited when he begins receiving the postcards.
Some of my friends at the school and I have been contemplating how to get rid of the principal. The school has gone downhill in a serious way since he took over this year. He's alienating the parents, and doing nothing for the kids. There is a substitute teacher that is terrorizing the kids, the daughter of one of my friends in particular, and the principal is doing nothing to stop it. D has offered to create a website on which we could start a petition to try to get rid of the principal. If things continue, though, I think it may come down to a bunch of parents getting together and just going directly to the school board to demand he be fired.
Well, there's other stuff going on, but I'm tired and my brain just isn't functioning right now. Oh, wait, there is this:
We were at the eye doctor, waiting for them to be called back for their exams. C had found this plant and plucked a piece off of it. While he played with it, it broke apart into several smaller pieces. C held some in the palm of his hand, came over to me, hand outstretched, and said, "Here, Mom, have some weed."
I couldn't even speak, could barely breathe, I was laughing so hard. Then, once I was under control, all I could think was that I hoped no one had heard, because how could I explain that he had no idea what he was saying, and how would I convince someone that he hadn't heard that at home? Thankfully, no one heard. But I will never forget the day my son unwittingly tried to make his first sale...by offering a sample.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I wonder if I can do it...
Well, C & J's friend is back at school this week, after his surgery. I was very happy to see him, and his mom. Her and I have had a couple of wonderful conversations this week. One of which, in combination with other things, have led D & I to thinking about making some very major changes with the boys.
As I believe I've mentioned before, Caroline and I have real issues with the principal at the school. We are not the only ones. It seems there are a lot of parents that don't like him, and even a couple of teachers don't like him. Since he took control, the school has changed drastically, and not for the better. When D & I first began discussing the idea of moving in together, I was adamant that I wanted us to live in this school zone, so that the boys could continue attending this school. Now, I'm not so sure.
The people in the offices have gone from being friendly, happy, kind and always helpful to cold, distant, and acting as though you are interfering with their day by coming into the school. As a parent, I do occasionally have cause to go to the school: a meeting regarding J's speech therapy (more on this later!), the book fair, a question for the teacher regarding homework, a conference to assess how the kids are doing. All valid reasons, in any reasonable person's opinion. But if you come in to this school, they would look at you like you came in and asked what color the sky is.
The kids can't talk in class. Understandable. They are there to learn, to do classwork, and they can't do that if they are chatting away. But now, the dean of discipline has decided they can no longer talk during lunch. Now, parents who homeschool are always told they should send their kids to school so they can socialize. Well...if they can't talk during class, and they can't talk during lunch, when exactly are they going to socialize? On the 5 minute walk to the car?
Caroline and I joked about starting a petition to get the principal removed. It started as a joke anyway. We agreed that with our luck, he'd find out we did it and our kids would be treated even worse. But, when I mentioned it to D, he actually had some really good suggestions for how we can do it and not have the fallout be on our kids. Caroline and I are still discussing and trying to determine if we really want to do this.
Regardless of what we do with that, though, D & I are seriously considering homeschooling the boys starting next year. With as bad as this school has gotten, and being uncertain that any other school would really be any better, homeschooling is sounding more and more like a good option. We can teach the boys on their own schedule, moving them forward or sticking on a topic as needed for them, instead of as needed for the slowest kid in the class, which may or may not be C & J.
Another thought behind this is that I think a large part of C's problem is that he is bored. He is very smart, and I think he just gets bored and doesn't put forth the same effort that he would if he wasn't bored. It's something I used to do. My dad did it as well. So did D. Homeschooling would eliminate this boredom, again because we'd be teaching them at their own individual level.
They would, quite possibly, spend less time in "school" than they do now. All the research I've done so far indicates that most homeschooled kids spend 3-5 hours a day on school related things, as compared to the more than 6 hours that the boys are currently doing, and then still come home and do homework. We would be able to do fun activities that would count as school activities, such as going to the zoo, or a museum, things like that. And we could go on days when everyone else is in school, therefore finding it less busy and more fun for us.
The only real drawback we've found so far is that all indications are that I can't homeschool and work fulltime. D apparently had already realized this, but I had not. I expressed concern that we might not be able to make it on just his income indefinitely, but he says that although it would be tight, we could make it work. I trust him, and I trust his judgment, so I'm going to hope he's right.
So, now, my last hesitation is wondering if I can really do this. Not just if I can teach them the things they need to learn (which I am fairly certain I can; and what I can't cover, D can), but if I can handle basically never having a break from them. Not that I don't love them and love spending time with them. But when they are in school, I get the house clean, laundry done, and some me time. Some time during which I can watch a little TV, read a book, do a word search, play around online, and just relax a bit. That will disappear if I am homeschooling. Granted, they are old enough to help with household chores, and in all honesty, they are probably old enough to do their own laundry (or C is, at any rate). Being a stay at home mom was always my dream, and when I stayed home when C was younger, I loved it. But C was younger. He was cool to just sit on the floor or in his playpen and play with toys while I cleaned up a bit. He took naps, so I had that time to read or watch TV. No more naps, and with two of them, there's always a fight over toys and such.
Fortunately, we still have several months to do more research and discuss it before we make a final decision. I want to make sure we do the right thing. I want the boys to have the best possible education, whether that is from a public school, private school or homeschool. And I don't think that going back and forth between homeschooling and regular school is really going to provide them with the best possible education. We have to decide on one and stick with it for the long haul.
The good news, though, is that yesterday I got a Meeting Participation Form from the school. This is what I usually get at the beginning of the year when we meet to evaluate where J is and what we expect to accomplish this year with his speech therapy. The reason given on this one is change in placement. I'm very hopeful that this means they will tell me he's met all his goals and no longer needs speech therapy. He has made amazing strides over the last year and a half. He still gets overly excited and becomes hard to understand. Or if he cries, you can't really understand him. But in an average conversation, he speaks clearly now.
Things are looking up, all the way around.
As I believe I've mentioned before, Caroline and I have real issues with the principal at the school. We are not the only ones. It seems there are a lot of parents that don't like him, and even a couple of teachers don't like him. Since he took control, the school has changed drastically, and not for the better. When D & I first began discussing the idea of moving in together, I was adamant that I wanted us to live in this school zone, so that the boys could continue attending this school. Now, I'm not so sure.
The people in the offices have gone from being friendly, happy, kind and always helpful to cold, distant, and acting as though you are interfering with their day by coming into the school. As a parent, I do occasionally have cause to go to the school: a meeting regarding J's speech therapy (more on this later!), the book fair, a question for the teacher regarding homework, a conference to assess how the kids are doing. All valid reasons, in any reasonable person's opinion. But if you come in to this school, they would look at you like you came in and asked what color the sky is.
The kids can't talk in class. Understandable. They are there to learn, to do classwork, and they can't do that if they are chatting away. But now, the dean of discipline has decided they can no longer talk during lunch. Now, parents who homeschool are always told they should send their kids to school so they can socialize. Well...if they can't talk during class, and they can't talk during lunch, when exactly are they going to socialize? On the 5 minute walk to the car?
Caroline and I joked about starting a petition to get the principal removed. It started as a joke anyway. We agreed that with our luck, he'd find out we did it and our kids would be treated even worse. But, when I mentioned it to D, he actually had some really good suggestions for how we can do it and not have the fallout be on our kids. Caroline and I are still discussing and trying to determine if we really want to do this.
Regardless of what we do with that, though, D & I are seriously considering homeschooling the boys starting next year. With as bad as this school has gotten, and being uncertain that any other school would really be any better, homeschooling is sounding more and more like a good option. We can teach the boys on their own schedule, moving them forward or sticking on a topic as needed for them, instead of as needed for the slowest kid in the class, which may or may not be C & J.
Another thought behind this is that I think a large part of C's problem is that he is bored. He is very smart, and I think he just gets bored and doesn't put forth the same effort that he would if he wasn't bored. It's something I used to do. My dad did it as well. So did D. Homeschooling would eliminate this boredom, again because we'd be teaching them at their own individual level.
They would, quite possibly, spend less time in "school" than they do now. All the research I've done so far indicates that most homeschooled kids spend 3-5 hours a day on school related things, as compared to the more than 6 hours that the boys are currently doing, and then still come home and do homework. We would be able to do fun activities that would count as school activities, such as going to the zoo, or a museum, things like that. And we could go on days when everyone else is in school, therefore finding it less busy and more fun for us.
The only real drawback we've found so far is that all indications are that I can't homeschool and work fulltime. D apparently had already realized this, but I had not. I expressed concern that we might not be able to make it on just his income indefinitely, but he says that although it would be tight, we could make it work. I trust him, and I trust his judgment, so I'm going to hope he's right.
So, now, my last hesitation is wondering if I can really do this. Not just if I can teach them the things they need to learn (which I am fairly certain I can; and what I can't cover, D can), but if I can handle basically never having a break from them. Not that I don't love them and love spending time with them. But when they are in school, I get the house clean, laundry done, and some me time. Some time during which I can watch a little TV, read a book, do a word search, play around online, and just relax a bit. That will disappear if I am homeschooling. Granted, they are old enough to help with household chores, and in all honesty, they are probably old enough to do their own laundry (or C is, at any rate). Being a stay at home mom was always my dream, and when I stayed home when C was younger, I loved it. But C was younger. He was cool to just sit on the floor or in his playpen and play with toys while I cleaned up a bit. He took naps, so I had that time to read or watch TV. No more naps, and with two of them, there's always a fight over toys and such.
Fortunately, we still have several months to do more research and discuss it before we make a final decision. I want to make sure we do the right thing. I want the boys to have the best possible education, whether that is from a public school, private school or homeschool. And I don't think that going back and forth between homeschooling and regular school is really going to provide them with the best possible education. We have to decide on one and stick with it for the long haul.
The good news, though, is that yesterday I got a Meeting Participation Form from the school. This is what I usually get at the beginning of the year when we meet to evaluate where J is and what we expect to accomplish this year with his speech therapy. The reason given on this one is change in placement. I'm very hopeful that this means they will tell me he's met all his goals and no longer needs speech therapy. He has made amazing strides over the last year and a half. He still gets overly excited and becomes hard to understand. Or if he cries, you can't really understand him. But in an average conversation, he speaks clearly now.
Things are looking up, all the way around.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Singing in the rain...er, shower
So, C has developed a new...talent? hobby? interest? Something like that, anyway.
When he's in the shower, he likes to sing. I don't mean Madonna "Papa Don't Preach" type singing. I mean, making up his own songs singing. It's quite entertaining for those of us on the outside. Today's concert started out with a quiet version of "help me, help me, help me", peaked with "I'm a crocodile" and had an encore of gibberish. The last part I went and stood outside the bathroom, on the phone with D, and even D was cracking up. I was laughing so hard I couldn't even tell C he needed to get done and get out of the shower. I told D that next time, I'm going to get out the video camera and tape it. I can see it now...
C: Mom, I want to bring my girlfriend home to meet you and D. You, uh...you don't have any naked pictures of me on a bearskin rug or anything do you?
Me: No, sweetheart, no bear skin rug pictures.
Two days later...
Me: So, girlfriend, I have a video from when C was younger. Why don't we watch it?
I'm such an evil mommy. :)
So this week, C takes his first FCAT test. I'm worried, but not. I'm worried, because this is really pretty much a make or break test. I'm not because C has always done well on these types of things in the past. But I can't help but be afraid that he might freak out and not do well, and end up repeating 3rd grade over something this silly. J is taking great pleasure in reminding C that he doesn't have to take this test. Brothers...they live to torment each other.
I found myself making some rather...unusual mistakes today. Well, I don't know that I would call them mistakes, exactly, considering the direction D and I's relationship has been heading. We are moving in together, quite possibly within the next few months. But what I found myself doing today shocked even me.
I was in my mommy group (which I know I was going to leave, but it's like a soap opera...you get hooked and can't stop) and there were 3 questions that I answered this afternoon. I felt they were good questions, one that deserved honest answers. The type of question required me to speak about my relationship with D as well as my children, and I found myself referring to the boys as "our" kids. Usually, I call them "my" kids, or "my" boys, or whatever. It's always been "my", though, because SD doesn't deserve any credit for them, and I've been raising them alone. And I've answered other questions since meeting D that required me to talk about both my relationship with him and my kids, and used "my". But today, I found myself using "our". Initially, I was surprised, and even kind of thought, "what the heck did I do that for?" I even said it out loud, at which point I ended up explaining to D what I'd done. He laughed and said he'd found himself calling C "son" so he didn't think it was a big deal. Later, after I did it the 3rd time, he even said he didn't mind.
So, the first time I did it, I surprised myself. The second time I did it, it was more like, "oh, for Pete's sake, I did that again." The third time, I decided it was hopeless and I just need to accept that apparently this is what I'll be doing from now on. I'm not sure why I did it. I'm not sure what it was that made me suddenly think of them as "ours" instead of mine. I do know one thing, though. When I was with SD, even though he helped conceive them, I never ever thought of them as "ours". Even then, the boys were always "my". So...the fact that I am thinking this way about D says a lot about how I feel about him and our relationship.
It also just proves that DNA is not what makes a family, or a father. In the short time that D has been a part of our lives, he's already acted more like a father to them, without even trying, than SD has in their entire lives. They seem to have readily accepted him as a part of our lives and our family. I know there will probably be a day when they will rebel and pull the "you're not my dad" bit on him. I know there will come a day when they will probably resent him, hate him, or at the very least, make his life difficult, which means mine will be difficult. But I figure that's normal and bearable. And we'll deal with that if and when that day arrives.
It's very strange. I used to swear that no man would ever meet my kids before we'd been dating at least 6 months, and even then, only if the relationship was serious. I stuck to that rule for many years. No man I ever dated met my kids. And then D came along. And we haven't been together 6 months, but he's already met the kids, and I already can see him as their dad. We're already moving in together. The kids have accepted him and have no problems with him and I being together. And none of this feels rushed, or like a mistake, and I don't feel like I should feel guilty that we didn't wait longer for this stuff. I guess whoever said that when it's right, you'll know it, knew what he or she was talking about.
When he's in the shower, he likes to sing. I don't mean Madonna "Papa Don't Preach" type singing. I mean, making up his own songs singing. It's quite entertaining for those of us on the outside. Today's concert started out with a quiet version of "help me, help me, help me", peaked with "I'm a crocodile" and had an encore of gibberish. The last part I went and stood outside the bathroom, on the phone with D, and even D was cracking up. I was laughing so hard I couldn't even tell C he needed to get done and get out of the shower. I told D that next time, I'm going to get out the video camera and tape it. I can see it now...
C: Mom, I want to bring my girlfriend home to meet you and D. You, uh...you don't have any naked pictures of me on a bearskin rug or anything do you?
Me: No, sweetheart, no bear skin rug pictures.
Two days later...
Me: So, girlfriend, I have a video from when C was younger. Why don't we watch it?
I'm such an evil mommy. :)
So this week, C takes his first FCAT test. I'm worried, but not. I'm worried, because this is really pretty much a make or break test. I'm not because C has always done well on these types of things in the past. But I can't help but be afraid that he might freak out and not do well, and end up repeating 3rd grade over something this silly. J is taking great pleasure in reminding C that he doesn't have to take this test. Brothers...they live to torment each other.
I found myself making some rather...unusual mistakes today. Well, I don't know that I would call them mistakes, exactly, considering the direction D and I's relationship has been heading. We are moving in together, quite possibly within the next few months. But what I found myself doing today shocked even me.
I was in my mommy group (which I know I was going to leave, but it's like a soap opera...you get hooked and can't stop) and there were 3 questions that I answered this afternoon. I felt they were good questions, one that deserved honest answers. The type of question required me to speak about my relationship with D as well as my children, and I found myself referring to the boys as "our" kids. Usually, I call them "my" kids, or "my" boys, or whatever. It's always been "my", though, because SD doesn't deserve any credit for them, and I've been raising them alone. And I've answered other questions since meeting D that required me to talk about both my relationship with him and my kids, and used "my". But today, I found myself using "our". Initially, I was surprised, and even kind of thought, "what the heck did I do that for?" I even said it out loud, at which point I ended up explaining to D what I'd done. He laughed and said he'd found himself calling C "son" so he didn't think it was a big deal. Later, after I did it the 3rd time, he even said he didn't mind.
So, the first time I did it, I surprised myself. The second time I did it, it was more like, "oh, for Pete's sake, I did that again." The third time, I decided it was hopeless and I just need to accept that apparently this is what I'll be doing from now on. I'm not sure why I did it. I'm not sure what it was that made me suddenly think of them as "ours" instead of mine. I do know one thing, though. When I was with SD, even though he helped conceive them, I never ever thought of them as "ours". Even then, the boys were always "my". So...the fact that I am thinking this way about D says a lot about how I feel about him and our relationship.
It also just proves that DNA is not what makes a family, or a father. In the short time that D has been a part of our lives, he's already acted more like a father to them, without even trying, than SD has in their entire lives. They seem to have readily accepted him as a part of our lives and our family. I know there will probably be a day when they will rebel and pull the "you're not my dad" bit on him. I know there will come a day when they will probably resent him, hate him, or at the very least, make his life difficult, which means mine will be difficult. But I figure that's normal and bearable. And we'll deal with that if and when that day arrives.
It's very strange. I used to swear that no man would ever meet my kids before we'd been dating at least 6 months, and even then, only if the relationship was serious. I stuck to that rule for many years. No man I ever dated met my kids. And then D came along. And we haven't been together 6 months, but he's already met the kids, and I already can see him as their dad. We're already moving in together. The kids have accepted him and have no problems with him and I being together. And none of this feels rushed, or like a mistake, and I don't feel like I should feel guilty that we didn't wait longer for this stuff. I guess whoever said that when it's right, you'll know it, knew what he or she was talking about.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Student of the Month!!
So, I go to pick the kids up today. And the teacher that runs the car rider line was running a bit behind today, so by the time we got pulled up, the kids were already waiting. The boys climb in the car, and I notice C has this red ribbon on his shirt. So I ask what it is as I lift it, and read "Student of the Month" on it. I immediately have to start driving, as the line is moving, but C starts telling me how he's student of the month, and handing me a bumper sticker, a certificate, and his coupon that entitles him to a free sundae at Sonic. Yay...an excuse for me to go buy ice cream. :)
I am so proud of him. He's come such a long way since Kindergarten and 1st grade. If you go back to some of my much older postings, you'll read about the trouble he had and the diagnosis I didn't want to get (Most of this will be found around April 2007, just to help you out a little). He had such a hard time not only with grades, but also behavior. He couldn't stop talking, couldn't sit still, couldn't focus. ADHD was truly making his life miserable. I strongly regret not getting him diagnosed sooner. I was so determined to think that my son didn't have that problem, or that I could get him past it naturally, without medication, and all I did was force my son to struggle when it wasn't necessary.
And when I look at where he is now, I am glad that I did finally give in and get him officially diagnosed and started on meds. His grades have improved, his behavior is so much better, and he is a much happier child (although he already has a teenage attitude!). He would be in a completely different place right now had I continued to try to convince myself that disagnosis and medication weren't necessary.
J, however, is very upset that is not, and has yet to be, Student of the Month. I tried to tell him to just be patient, and to remember that it took his brother until 3rd grade to get it, but J does not want to hear this. He wants to just pout and feel like he's getting ripped off somehow. Forget the fact that his grades are always through the roof, and that he's never had the behavior issues that his brother had. He doesn't want to hear any of that, because it doesn't suit his agenda of pouting and being miserable.
Sometimes I wonder about children.
D is well entrenched in his new job. He is quite the happy camper. He's getting lots of miles, he loves his new dispatcher, and sounds so much happier than I've heard him in a long time. This makes me happy, of course. I still miss him, and I still can't wait until he comes home so I can see him and hold him and touch him, but at least now I know he's not absolutely miserable and stressed beyond belief when we're apart.
Of course, he still likes to tease and torment me, so now...I'm off to plot my revenge. :)
I am so proud of him. He's come such a long way since Kindergarten and 1st grade. If you go back to some of my much older postings, you'll read about the trouble he had and the diagnosis I didn't want to get (Most of this will be found around April 2007, just to help you out a little). He had such a hard time not only with grades, but also behavior. He couldn't stop talking, couldn't sit still, couldn't focus. ADHD was truly making his life miserable. I strongly regret not getting him diagnosed sooner. I was so determined to think that my son didn't have that problem, or that I could get him past it naturally, without medication, and all I did was force my son to struggle when it wasn't necessary.
And when I look at where he is now, I am glad that I did finally give in and get him officially diagnosed and started on meds. His grades have improved, his behavior is so much better, and he is a much happier child (although he already has a teenage attitude!). He would be in a completely different place right now had I continued to try to convince myself that disagnosis and medication weren't necessary.
J, however, is very upset that is not, and has yet to be, Student of the Month. I tried to tell him to just be patient, and to remember that it took his brother until 3rd grade to get it, but J does not want to hear this. He wants to just pout and feel like he's getting ripped off somehow. Forget the fact that his grades are always through the roof, and that he's never had the behavior issues that his brother had. He doesn't want to hear any of that, because it doesn't suit his agenda of pouting and being miserable.
Sometimes I wonder about children.
D is well entrenched in his new job. He is quite the happy camper. He's getting lots of miles, he loves his new dispatcher, and sounds so much happier than I've heard him in a long time. This makes me happy, of course. I still miss him, and I still can't wait until he comes home so I can see him and hold him and touch him, but at least now I know he's not absolutely miserable and stressed beyond belief when we're apart.
Of course, he still likes to tease and torment me, so now...I'm off to plot my revenge. :)
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Why my kids don't have birthday parties...and other thoughts
So today is C's 9th birthday...wow, where have the years gone? I'm seriously having major issues with accepting that my firstborn, my baby, is no longer my baby, but now dwells in the realm of a land called "tweendom". My son is a tween. That's just...not right.
I had a friend ask me the other day (after she invited us to her daughter's 10th birthday party tomorrow - her daughter is 364 days older than C), why my kids don't have birthday parties. Well, it's pretty simple. One reason is that we live way out in the boonies and our current neighborhood does not contain a lot of kids around C & J's ages. Most of the kids are teens, or really, really little. Depending on where D & I eventually find a place, that may change, but that's what it is right now.
The other reason is the school policy. School policy says that you cannot invite selected, specific children to the party. It is all or none: either you invite all of the kids in the class, or none of them. And naturally, there is no real way around this.
Now, I kind of get why they do this: it sucks to be the only kid in the class NOT invited to a party. And yes, I can understand they would want to avoid the hurt feelings as much as possible, especially in this world where kids bring guns to school or commit suicide for no apparent reason. BUT...
I have more than one issue with this. One being that it's not fair. It SEEMS fair at first glance. All the kids get invited, so it makes it fair. But, it's really not fair. I mean, seriously, people that I don't know, or that I do know but don't like or they don't like me, don't invite me to their parties. And I wouldn't expect them to. I grew up getting invited only to those parties that I knew and generally was pretty good friends with the person having the party. So as an adult, I get the concept that if I don't know you, or we don't like each other, I'm not getting invited to your party, and you won't be invited to mine. I think this whole "invite all or none" policy is going to kind of screw with that. We'll have adults running around expecting to get invited to a party that the cashier at Walmart is throwing, even though they don't know said cashier.
Another issue is this: C is in the same classroom as a little boy we will call S. In Kindergarten, C & S were in the same class, and in the after-care program together. S's mother runs the after-care program. C & S were constantly, and I mean constantly, in trouble together. Every day in class, in after-care, these two were up to something. The teacher made specific notes that they were not to be put in the same class together in future. That worked...until this year. They are in the same class. And S has gone from annoying little troublemaker to full-on bully. He's been suspended for fighting. He picks on other kids, he pushes, hits, trips, kicks, slaps, smacks, punches, teases, threatens, you name it, he's done it. C realizes this kid is trouble, and wants nothing to do with him. Now...knowing that this kid is likely to try to start a fight with one or both of my boys, and has probably in some form or another abused at least one other kid in the class, who would likely be at the party, WHY on earth would I want to invite this child to my home? I mean, seriously, that just makes no sense to me. There is a person who has never met me, but doesn't like me. She's made threats. You don't see me inviting her to my home. So why would I want to invite this kid to my home?
Those are the reasons my kids don't have birthday parties. And just to clarify, it's not that they don't have parties. They do. We have a birthday dinner, where the birthday boy (or person; the adults get it too) gets to pick what they want for dinner. We have the cake of their choosing (C chose German Chocolate this year...yummy, but very very rich), ice cream (or in some cases, ice cream cake...very convenient), and presents. It's just a family thing. The kids, me, grandparents, and D when he's home for it. We keep it as a family event, mainly for the reasons listed above, but also because it's just nice to have it as a family event instead of turning it into some big, materialistic, can we spend more money then they did monster. We even have a $20 limit on the gifts. I am trying very hard to make sure that my kids don't turn into materialistic little snobs, and I think keeping their birthdays as a family event is one way to do that.
I'm not saying that my friend's daughter will be a materialist snob, my friend and her husband are much more levelheaded than that. And I know not all kids turn out that way. But so many people today seem to think that birthdays and Christmas are all about what you get and it becomes a competition to see who gets the best stuff. I want my kids to realize that these events, and all holidays like that are supposed to be about family, and friends, and celebrating an event, not spending money and getting stuff.
I am still very much in shock over this particular birthday. I'm not sure why exactly. Nine is not a milestone birthday, at least as far as I know. Next year, when he turns 10 (I really don't want to think about that!), that's a milestone. When he turns 13, or 16, or 18, those are milestones. Then of course, there's 21. Really, even 25 kind of counts. But this year, turning 9, there's nothing super special about that. And yet, more than any other birthday so far, I'm having trouble accepting it. When he turned a year, I was shocked, but I was also super excited, because it was his first birthday, so I guess the shock was kind of blunted by the excitement. I just can't believe he's 9 now.
I've reached that point where my birthday is really kind of just another day for me. The only reason I got excited this year (when I turned 31...which I would like to forget) is that D was home for my birthday. That made it special. Going out to dinner with him and spending time alone with him made it special. Otherwise I wouldn't have really cared. I'd have had my birthday dinner (stuffed shells) and cake (ice cream cake) and my babies gave me my gifts (little bath soap sets), but it wouldn't have been a big deal to me.
C was excited for his birthday. In fact, he got mad when he realized (on Thursday) that it wasn't yesterday, but in fact, today. He was ready for it.
J broke the nosepads off his glasses Thursday night. So after school yesterday, we had to go get them repaired. As I was driving home from this, with the boys fighting in the backseat, the song "Then They Do" by Trace Adkins came on the radio. I was listening to the song, and I kind of got teary, what with C's birthday today and all, and it occurred to me that their Sperm Donor not only probably doesn't remember that C's birthday was today, but probably couldn't tell you how old he turned either.
I used to feel bad that my boys had a "father" that didn't give a crap about them. I felt bad for my boys, felt that they were missing out on something. This year, I don't feel that way. Part of it is D. He's stepped in and wholeheartedly embrace the fact that my kids and I are a package deal, a ready made family. He has no issue with stepping up to put the boys in their place if they do something wrong, or doing family things with us, helping with homework, or thinking of us as a family instead of just a couple.
I've always believed in the statement that any male can be a father, but that it takes a real man to be a dad. But given that for the last 6 yrs, the only male figure in their lives was my father, I felt bad that their "father" didn't do more. My dad is great, don't get me wrong, but he's Grandpa. He does a lot for them and with them, but he shouldn't have to act as their father. So when D met my kids and easily found a relationship with them in which he steps into a somewhat parental role, and they so easily accepted him in that role, it made me fall all the more in love with him.
I've always tried to teach the boys that family isn't just about blood. I have uncles who are absolutely no relation to me at all. They are just incredibly close friends of my parents, but to me, they are uncles because I have always been able to count on them. One of those uncles was my ex's best man at our wedding; he informed my ex that if he ever hurt me, my uncle would hunt him down and kill him. He's not followed through on that threat, but that's only because we won't tell him where to find my ex, and he knows I don't want him in jail over my ex.
I have friends that I've known for years, and even when we've lost touch, I still consider them to be like sisters to me. We're just that close.
These are things I've tried to teach my sons. And to meet a man who also understands that is such a wonderful thing. It's...comforting to be with a man who understands that family is not about being able to trace a bloodline, but about love, and commitment and loyalty. And yes, I do consider D to be a part of my family now. He has become a very important part of my life, and I would do for him what I would do for any member of my family: anything. He comes second only to my kids.
Back to my original point though (if I can find my way back to it), SD made no effort to contact C for his birthday, as usual. He, I'm sure, doesn't even realize it's his birthday. And that's fine. I've finally realized that my kids don't need him, in any way, and they will not suffer in any way because he's not around. Between me, D, and my parents, they will have enough love, enough male influences, and everything they will ever need. There is nothing that he can provide for them, nothing that he can do for them, that I, D, or my parents can't provide or do. And the boys will never miss what they don't know.
One day, SD will realize what he's lost. He'll realize he missed out on the chance to be a father, to make a mark and be an influence in someone's life. He'll realize he had that chance, and that he chose to step back, and instead someone else stepped in and gladly took on that role. He'll know that another man was happy to be a dad to my sons, and loved my sons even though they weren't his blood. And SD will have to live with that. One day, he'll be a bitter, lonely old man with no one to care about him or visit him or talk to him, because he'll have chased everyone away. And he'll have nothing else to do but reflect on the fact that things could have been different, if HE'D been different.
Maybe that's why I'm having such trouble with the idea that C is 9...maybe it's that realization that C, and J as well, are growing up so fast, and that someday they will be adults and have their own lives. And all I will have left of their childhoods is memories. Maybe I actually feel a little sad that SD won't even have those memories. I don't know that I'd say I feel bad for him, but maybe...maybe it's that I know that the opportunities to make those memories are fading fast, and I want to grab hold of as many of them as I can, and as tightly as I can. And I feel...sad that he doesn't have that same urge, and won't until it's much too late.
Ok, enough depressing thoughts for one night. Off to bed.
Happy Birthday, C!
I had a friend ask me the other day (after she invited us to her daughter's 10th birthday party tomorrow - her daughter is 364 days older than C), why my kids don't have birthday parties. Well, it's pretty simple. One reason is that we live way out in the boonies and our current neighborhood does not contain a lot of kids around C & J's ages. Most of the kids are teens, or really, really little. Depending on where D & I eventually find a place, that may change, but that's what it is right now.
The other reason is the school policy. School policy says that you cannot invite selected, specific children to the party. It is all or none: either you invite all of the kids in the class, or none of them. And naturally, there is no real way around this.
Now, I kind of get why they do this: it sucks to be the only kid in the class NOT invited to a party. And yes, I can understand they would want to avoid the hurt feelings as much as possible, especially in this world where kids bring guns to school or commit suicide for no apparent reason. BUT...
I have more than one issue with this. One being that it's not fair. It SEEMS fair at first glance. All the kids get invited, so it makes it fair. But, it's really not fair. I mean, seriously, people that I don't know, or that I do know but don't like or they don't like me, don't invite me to their parties. And I wouldn't expect them to. I grew up getting invited only to those parties that I knew and generally was pretty good friends with the person having the party. So as an adult, I get the concept that if I don't know you, or we don't like each other, I'm not getting invited to your party, and you won't be invited to mine. I think this whole "invite all or none" policy is going to kind of screw with that. We'll have adults running around expecting to get invited to a party that the cashier at Walmart is throwing, even though they don't know said cashier.
Another issue is this: C is in the same classroom as a little boy we will call S. In Kindergarten, C & S were in the same class, and in the after-care program together. S's mother runs the after-care program. C & S were constantly, and I mean constantly, in trouble together. Every day in class, in after-care, these two were up to something. The teacher made specific notes that they were not to be put in the same class together in future. That worked...until this year. They are in the same class. And S has gone from annoying little troublemaker to full-on bully. He's been suspended for fighting. He picks on other kids, he pushes, hits, trips, kicks, slaps, smacks, punches, teases, threatens, you name it, he's done it. C realizes this kid is trouble, and wants nothing to do with him. Now...knowing that this kid is likely to try to start a fight with one or both of my boys, and has probably in some form or another abused at least one other kid in the class, who would likely be at the party, WHY on earth would I want to invite this child to my home? I mean, seriously, that just makes no sense to me. There is a person who has never met me, but doesn't like me. She's made threats. You don't see me inviting her to my home. So why would I want to invite this kid to my home?
Those are the reasons my kids don't have birthday parties. And just to clarify, it's not that they don't have parties. They do. We have a birthday dinner, where the birthday boy (or person; the adults get it too) gets to pick what they want for dinner. We have the cake of their choosing (C chose German Chocolate this year...yummy, but very very rich), ice cream (or in some cases, ice cream cake...very convenient), and presents. It's just a family thing. The kids, me, grandparents, and D when he's home for it. We keep it as a family event, mainly for the reasons listed above, but also because it's just nice to have it as a family event instead of turning it into some big, materialistic, can we spend more money then they did monster. We even have a $20 limit on the gifts. I am trying very hard to make sure that my kids don't turn into materialistic little snobs, and I think keeping their birthdays as a family event is one way to do that.
I'm not saying that my friend's daughter will be a materialist snob, my friend and her husband are much more levelheaded than that. And I know not all kids turn out that way. But so many people today seem to think that birthdays and Christmas are all about what you get and it becomes a competition to see who gets the best stuff. I want my kids to realize that these events, and all holidays like that are supposed to be about family, and friends, and celebrating an event, not spending money and getting stuff.
I am still very much in shock over this particular birthday. I'm not sure why exactly. Nine is not a milestone birthday, at least as far as I know. Next year, when he turns 10 (I really don't want to think about that!), that's a milestone. When he turns 13, or 16, or 18, those are milestones. Then of course, there's 21. Really, even 25 kind of counts. But this year, turning 9, there's nothing super special about that. And yet, more than any other birthday so far, I'm having trouble accepting it. When he turned a year, I was shocked, but I was also super excited, because it was his first birthday, so I guess the shock was kind of blunted by the excitement. I just can't believe he's 9 now.
I've reached that point where my birthday is really kind of just another day for me. The only reason I got excited this year (when I turned 31...which I would like to forget) is that D was home for my birthday. That made it special. Going out to dinner with him and spending time alone with him made it special. Otherwise I wouldn't have really cared. I'd have had my birthday dinner (stuffed shells) and cake (ice cream cake) and my babies gave me my gifts (little bath soap sets), but it wouldn't have been a big deal to me.
C was excited for his birthday. In fact, he got mad when he realized (on Thursday) that it wasn't yesterday, but in fact, today. He was ready for it.
J broke the nosepads off his glasses Thursday night. So after school yesterday, we had to go get them repaired. As I was driving home from this, with the boys fighting in the backseat, the song "Then They Do" by Trace Adkins came on the radio. I was listening to the song, and I kind of got teary, what with C's birthday today and all, and it occurred to me that their Sperm Donor not only probably doesn't remember that C's birthday was today, but probably couldn't tell you how old he turned either.
I used to feel bad that my boys had a "father" that didn't give a crap about them. I felt bad for my boys, felt that they were missing out on something. This year, I don't feel that way. Part of it is D. He's stepped in and wholeheartedly embrace the fact that my kids and I are a package deal, a ready made family. He has no issue with stepping up to put the boys in their place if they do something wrong, or doing family things with us, helping with homework, or thinking of us as a family instead of just a couple.
I've always believed in the statement that any male can be a father, but that it takes a real man to be a dad. But given that for the last 6 yrs, the only male figure in their lives was my father, I felt bad that their "father" didn't do more. My dad is great, don't get me wrong, but he's Grandpa. He does a lot for them and with them, but he shouldn't have to act as their father. So when D met my kids and easily found a relationship with them in which he steps into a somewhat parental role, and they so easily accepted him in that role, it made me fall all the more in love with him.
I've always tried to teach the boys that family isn't just about blood. I have uncles who are absolutely no relation to me at all. They are just incredibly close friends of my parents, but to me, they are uncles because I have always been able to count on them. One of those uncles was my ex's best man at our wedding; he informed my ex that if he ever hurt me, my uncle would hunt him down and kill him. He's not followed through on that threat, but that's only because we won't tell him where to find my ex, and he knows I don't want him in jail over my ex.
I have friends that I've known for years, and even when we've lost touch, I still consider them to be like sisters to me. We're just that close.
These are things I've tried to teach my sons. And to meet a man who also understands that is such a wonderful thing. It's...comforting to be with a man who understands that family is not about being able to trace a bloodline, but about love, and commitment and loyalty. And yes, I do consider D to be a part of my family now. He has become a very important part of my life, and I would do for him what I would do for any member of my family: anything. He comes second only to my kids.
Back to my original point though (if I can find my way back to it), SD made no effort to contact C for his birthday, as usual. He, I'm sure, doesn't even realize it's his birthday. And that's fine. I've finally realized that my kids don't need him, in any way, and they will not suffer in any way because he's not around. Between me, D, and my parents, they will have enough love, enough male influences, and everything they will ever need. There is nothing that he can provide for them, nothing that he can do for them, that I, D, or my parents can't provide or do. And the boys will never miss what they don't know.
One day, SD will realize what he's lost. He'll realize he missed out on the chance to be a father, to make a mark and be an influence in someone's life. He'll realize he had that chance, and that he chose to step back, and instead someone else stepped in and gladly took on that role. He'll know that another man was happy to be a dad to my sons, and loved my sons even though they weren't his blood. And SD will have to live with that. One day, he'll be a bitter, lonely old man with no one to care about him or visit him or talk to him, because he'll have chased everyone away. And he'll have nothing else to do but reflect on the fact that things could have been different, if HE'D been different.
Maybe that's why I'm having such trouble with the idea that C is 9...maybe it's that realization that C, and J as well, are growing up so fast, and that someday they will be adults and have their own lives. And all I will have left of their childhoods is memories. Maybe I actually feel a little sad that SD won't even have those memories. I don't know that I'd say I feel bad for him, but maybe...maybe it's that I know that the opportunities to make those memories are fading fast, and I want to grab hold of as many of them as I can, and as tightly as I can. And I feel...sad that he doesn't have that same urge, and won't until it's much too late.
Ok, enough depressing thoughts for one night. Off to bed.
Happy Birthday, C!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Ugh...I'm having one of those weeks, I think
So my friend Caroline's son, who happens to be friends with C & J, is having surgery tomorrow. On his eyes of all things. I don't know all the details, but the basic story is that he was a preemie, something is up with his eyes, and they have to snip the muscle between the eyes. She is freaking out, and broke down in front of him the other night, which of course made him freak out. She's a very strong woman, so I know she will be ok, but I'm still worried about her.
We stood around talking for a bit this morning. Somehow, in talking about surgery, school, teachers, and bullies, the conversation came around to the fact that D & I are planning on moving in together. In the course of this conversation, I mentioned that D is a truck driver and has just changed companies. Someone else joined our conversation, but at the worst possible time. She joined just in time to hear me mention how much money D hopes to make (thankfully I gave a lowball figure, lower than he actually gave me, or I'd be in even bigger trouble right now), but not in time to hear all the whys of changing companies.
You see, he changed companies partly because they were just screwing him over in general...or I guess maybe that's the most basic explanation of everything. He was getting crappy loads, not making any money, and frequently owing them money for the "pleasure" of hauling their loads. He was buying his truck, which meant he had a truck payment to make, and was responsible for any repairs and problems the truck had. Basically, he was broke, working pretty much for free and miserable. There was no way we'd be able to get a place together, even if I found a great job.
So, he found another company. One that he could be a company driver, which means no truck payment, and no responsibility for the repairs and problems. He'll make more money, because driving their truck means they will make sure he gets a load.
But...the person who joined our conversation simply heard what D hopes to make and saw dollar signs. Now, in my defense, I DID try to tell her why she shouldn't get so excited. She was determined to go home and tell her unemployed husband to go to trucking school. I tried to tell her that D has several years of experience, and therefore gets a higher pay rate, but she didn't want to hear that. I tried to tell her that as a new driver, he's probably going to get stuck working for a crappy company (like the one D worked for), and he'll make no money, be miserable, and gone a lot. Didn't want to hear it. I told her how he'll be gone for weeks at a time, and only home a few days, and that if she thinks he doesn't help with the kids now (she complains he's lazy), just wait til he's gone 3 weeks, and home for 3 days, 3 days during which he wants to sleep, and has to clean out the truck, take care of things that he can't take care of on the road, and is not really in the mood to go do anything. Her response was to tell me that I deal with that.
Which was when I tried to explain that D is not my kids dad, and therefore is not responsible for helping me take care of them. Yes, he does help me when he is here, but that is his choice, not something I asked him to do. I am glad he does it, I appreciate it, I'm glad he wants to take on a role in my kids lives, but it is not something I forced him to do. And I don't push him to do anything when he's home, except to spend some time with me, and naturally, the kids, since locking them in the closet is illegal. :) In seriousness, though, I also tried to tell her that yes, I deal with it, but not as well as she seems to think. I told her if she asked D, he'd probably tell her that I drive him nuts with all the "I miss you" and "I wish you were home". And I go in and wake him up a million times and get frustrated when he doesn't want to get up. I understand he's tired, but that doesn't mean it's not a little frustrating.
I also pointed out that I did a considerable amount of laundry for him, much more than you would do on an ordinary basis if he were home everyday. Now, don't get me wrong: I offered. He tried to refuse ("You're my girlfriend, not my slave." I know that, silly, now hand over the stinky socks). I did it because I love him, but it's still a lot to do, especially when he's only home for X long, and you have to hurry up and get it done otherwise he's screwed and leaving with stinky socks and dirty underwear. I'd rather not think of my boyfriend wearing yucky undies, thank you.
Again, she says I'm dealing with it, so she can too. Gritting my teeth, I at this point try to remind her that this is how my relationship with D has been from the very beginning: I knew even before we started dating that he would be gone much more than he was here. I made the choice to move forward anyway, because I love him and I want to be with him, even if that is only a couple of days a month. I can live with that, because I've never known it to be different. Do I wish it were different? Of course. But D wishes he could win the lottery. We both have wishes that will probably never come true. That's life.
She's lived with her husband the entire 10 years they've been married. According to her, they've never spent a night apart. And...she thinks that her hubby can be home every night. Uhhh...did you miss the part where I mentioned how this last time D was gone for 5 weeks? While admittedly, that was longer than usual, it wasn't longer by much. But no, she thinks her hubby will be different. I tell her that if he wants any shot at all of making the kind of money D hopes to make, he has to be over the road, and that means being gone at a minimum of 2-3 weeks, but she doesn't want to hear that. Whatever.
She somehow came to the conclusion that the reason I don't work is that D takes care of me. Ummm....nope. I don't work cause I can't find a damn job. D and I have discussed the possibility that if he makes enough, I might not have to work. But it is not something I am counting on. Frankly, I feel weird even considering letting my boyfriend support my kids and I like that. Tried to tell her all that. Didn't do any good. She thinks she can get her hubby on the road and be able to quit her job.
I give up. I tried my best to get her to see reason. She only wants to see $$$$. So, ok, send your hubby off to trucking school, let him hire on with a really crappy trucking company that doesn't pay for crap, treats him like a slave and leaves him sitting at truck stops for hours, or even days on end. And when you come to me, months from now, to say I didn't warn you, I'm grabbing Caroline, and we're both going to stand there and say that yes, I did tell you so.
I did have one good thing happen this morning though. Well, good for my family, not so good for someone else. There was a little boy that C was friends with back in Kindergarten. A little boy that C often got into trouble with. Fortunately, it didn't take long into first grade for C to realize that this child was trouble. And the school assisted me in separating them.
I just found out this morning that this little boy has become quite the bully. Pushing kids, hitting, smacking, tripping, yelling, making fun, teasing, anything and everything. You name it, this kid is doing it. He's been suspended a couple times.
I'm so grateful that C has realized that this kid is not the kind of kid he wants to be friends with. When I think of what kind of trouble C would be in right now if they'd stayed friends...well, I'd rather not think about that.
I think I'm off to bed now. Hoping to hear from Caroline tomorrow afternoon that her son came through his surgery without a hitch.
We stood around talking for a bit this morning. Somehow, in talking about surgery, school, teachers, and bullies, the conversation came around to the fact that D & I are planning on moving in together. In the course of this conversation, I mentioned that D is a truck driver and has just changed companies. Someone else joined our conversation, but at the worst possible time. She joined just in time to hear me mention how much money D hopes to make (thankfully I gave a lowball figure, lower than he actually gave me, or I'd be in even bigger trouble right now), but not in time to hear all the whys of changing companies.
You see, he changed companies partly because they were just screwing him over in general...or I guess maybe that's the most basic explanation of everything. He was getting crappy loads, not making any money, and frequently owing them money for the "pleasure" of hauling their loads. He was buying his truck, which meant he had a truck payment to make, and was responsible for any repairs and problems the truck had. Basically, he was broke, working pretty much for free and miserable. There was no way we'd be able to get a place together, even if I found a great job.
So, he found another company. One that he could be a company driver, which means no truck payment, and no responsibility for the repairs and problems. He'll make more money, because driving their truck means they will make sure he gets a load.
But...the person who joined our conversation simply heard what D hopes to make and saw dollar signs. Now, in my defense, I DID try to tell her why she shouldn't get so excited. She was determined to go home and tell her unemployed husband to go to trucking school. I tried to tell her that D has several years of experience, and therefore gets a higher pay rate, but she didn't want to hear that. I tried to tell her that as a new driver, he's probably going to get stuck working for a crappy company (like the one D worked for), and he'll make no money, be miserable, and gone a lot. Didn't want to hear it. I told her how he'll be gone for weeks at a time, and only home a few days, and that if she thinks he doesn't help with the kids now (she complains he's lazy), just wait til he's gone 3 weeks, and home for 3 days, 3 days during which he wants to sleep, and has to clean out the truck, take care of things that he can't take care of on the road, and is not really in the mood to go do anything. Her response was to tell me that I deal with that.
Which was when I tried to explain that D is not my kids dad, and therefore is not responsible for helping me take care of them. Yes, he does help me when he is here, but that is his choice, not something I asked him to do. I am glad he does it, I appreciate it, I'm glad he wants to take on a role in my kids lives, but it is not something I forced him to do. And I don't push him to do anything when he's home, except to spend some time with me, and naturally, the kids, since locking them in the closet is illegal. :) In seriousness, though, I also tried to tell her that yes, I deal with it, but not as well as she seems to think. I told her if she asked D, he'd probably tell her that I drive him nuts with all the "I miss you" and "I wish you were home". And I go in and wake him up a million times and get frustrated when he doesn't want to get up. I understand he's tired, but that doesn't mean it's not a little frustrating.
I also pointed out that I did a considerable amount of laundry for him, much more than you would do on an ordinary basis if he were home everyday. Now, don't get me wrong: I offered. He tried to refuse ("You're my girlfriend, not my slave." I know that, silly, now hand over the stinky socks). I did it because I love him, but it's still a lot to do, especially when he's only home for X long, and you have to hurry up and get it done otherwise he's screwed and leaving with stinky socks and dirty underwear. I'd rather not think of my boyfriend wearing yucky undies, thank you.
Again, she says I'm dealing with it, so she can too. Gritting my teeth, I at this point try to remind her that this is how my relationship with D has been from the very beginning: I knew even before we started dating that he would be gone much more than he was here. I made the choice to move forward anyway, because I love him and I want to be with him, even if that is only a couple of days a month. I can live with that, because I've never known it to be different. Do I wish it were different? Of course. But D wishes he could win the lottery. We both have wishes that will probably never come true. That's life.
She's lived with her husband the entire 10 years they've been married. According to her, they've never spent a night apart. And...she thinks that her hubby can be home every night. Uhhh...did you miss the part where I mentioned how this last time D was gone for 5 weeks? While admittedly, that was longer than usual, it wasn't longer by much. But no, she thinks her hubby will be different. I tell her that if he wants any shot at all of making the kind of money D hopes to make, he has to be over the road, and that means being gone at a minimum of 2-3 weeks, but she doesn't want to hear that. Whatever.
She somehow came to the conclusion that the reason I don't work is that D takes care of me. Ummm....nope. I don't work cause I can't find a damn job. D and I have discussed the possibility that if he makes enough, I might not have to work. But it is not something I am counting on. Frankly, I feel weird even considering letting my boyfriend support my kids and I like that. Tried to tell her all that. Didn't do any good. She thinks she can get her hubby on the road and be able to quit her job.
I give up. I tried my best to get her to see reason. She only wants to see $$$$. So, ok, send your hubby off to trucking school, let him hire on with a really crappy trucking company that doesn't pay for crap, treats him like a slave and leaves him sitting at truck stops for hours, or even days on end. And when you come to me, months from now, to say I didn't warn you, I'm grabbing Caroline, and we're both going to stand there and say that yes, I did tell you so.
I did have one good thing happen this morning though. Well, good for my family, not so good for someone else. There was a little boy that C was friends with back in Kindergarten. A little boy that C often got into trouble with. Fortunately, it didn't take long into first grade for C to realize that this child was trouble. And the school assisted me in separating them.
I just found out this morning that this little boy has become quite the bully. Pushing kids, hitting, smacking, tripping, yelling, making fun, teasing, anything and everything. You name it, this kid is doing it. He's been suspended a couple times.
I'm so grateful that C has realized that this kid is not the kind of kid he wants to be friends with. When I think of what kind of trouble C would be in right now if they'd stayed friends...well, I'd rather not think about that.
I think I'm off to bed now. Hoping to hear from Caroline tomorrow afternoon that her son came through his surgery without a hitch.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Laundry...pretty sure I hate it
Doing dishes was always the bane of my existence. I despised them. Laundry ranked right up there after dishes. Then I got a dishwasher. I no longer despised dishes. Heck, I loved dishes. Now, laundry has moved up the ranks to the top of the list.
I don't mind the whole loading the washer, switching to the dryer part. That's the easy part. It's the whole fold and put away part that makes me crazy. It's so...tedious and boring. I mean, not that my life is just teeming with excitement or anything. But I'd just rather be reading, or taking pictures, or playing with the kids, or hanging with D when he's home. Not doing laundry.
And then this last week...I did so much laundry that I think the washing machine thinks we're getting married. I did my laundry, the boys laundry, D's laundry, and then mine and the boys again. D has so many socks that I think he could open his own sock store...well, if there is such a thing as a sock store. Is there? Maybe I should check into that. See...this is what I'm talking about: the excitement in my life is thinking I should research the potential existence of sock stores...and laundry is boring.
Seriously, though, if socks could procreate, D's would be bunnies. In fact, I'm not entirely sure his don't. They might very well be in the back of the truck doing all kinds of dirty little things to each other. I'm picturing D driving down the road, a little Marvin Gaye "Let's Get It On" on the radio (although why D would listen to that when I'M not there is questionable, but I digress) and the socks are hooking up:
Sock #1: hey, cutie! Wanna mate?
Sock #2: Are you gonna call me after?
Sock #1: Sure. After we get washed and dried, sure.
Sock#2: Uh-huh. I've heard that before. You're going to go thru that hole in the back of the dryer and disappear.
Sock #1: No, baby. I wouldn't do that to you. I love you.
Sock #2: Ok. But what if little socks come from this?
Sock #1: Oh, that can't happen. I can't have little socks.
And that's as far as I got with that conversation. That was when I finally fell asleep. See...I don't sleep well when he's not here. I sleep, but I wake up constantly. I fell asleep around midnight, then was up at 1 til 1:30, then up at 3 til 3:15ish, then up at 5 til 5:45. Then I got up at 7 for the day. So, yeah, sock conversations are still running through my head. Sorry about that. I definitely need to sleep.
On a completely unrelated note (or kind of related, I suppose, in an odd way)...have you ever noticed how sexy it is to watch a grown man interact with a child? As I mentioned yesterday, D took the boys for a ride in the truck. We met up at a truck stop for this. The boys must hold my hand when in a parking lot, or at least the hand of an adult in our group. So, first J wanted to hold D's hand, and then later, C wanted to hold D's hand. I don't know if the fact that he's not their father makes it more so, but it was just so sexy and sweet to watch him holding their hands. If I'd had my camera (which I intended to take, and then completely forgot), I would have taken pictures. I didn't think I could fall more in love with him, but I did. There is something about watching him interact with my kids that just gets to me. I don't know...maybe part of it is the complete lack of involvement and interest from their sperm donor. Knowing that D actually takes an interest in my sons and wants to interact with them and take on a role in their lives means a lot.
But...to get back to my original point. Laundry. Specifically, D's socks. Seriously, when I was matching and folding his socks, I could have used them to create a fake him in the bed. I get why he needs so many, but wow, it's a lot. He made the comment that you can never have too many socks. I informed him that when I'm the one folding them, yes, you can.
It's kind of odd. I hate laundry. I try to get it all done in one day so that I don't have to think about it all the time. But when I was doing D's, I didn't really mind it so much. I mean, it was just as boring and tedious as ever, but for some reason, I almost enjoyed it. I wouldn't call it fun, exactly, but it was...nice.
I still hate laundry, though. Don't think that has changed, because it hasn't. I still say someone needs to invent something that will fold and put the clothes away for me. Once that's done, then cleaning the bathroom can move to the top of the list and well...I'll just make the kids clean that, and my life will be perfect. Well, nearly perfect anyway.
Ok, I think I should go sleep now. Clearly I need it, since I think not having to clean the bathroom would make my life perfect. Good night.
I don't mind the whole loading the washer, switching to the dryer part. That's the easy part. It's the whole fold and put away part that makes me crazy. It's so...tedious and boring. I mean, not that my life is just teeming with excitement or anything. But I'd just rather be reading, or taking pictures, or playing with the kids, or hanging with D when he's home. Not doing laundry.
And then this last week...I did so much laundry that I think the washing machine thinks we're getting married. I did my laundry, the boys laundry, D's laundry, and then mine and the boys again. D has so many socks that I think he could open his own sock store...well, if there is such a thing as a sock store. Is there? Maybe I should check into that. See...this is what I'm talking about: the excitement in my life is thinking I should research the potential existence of sock stores...and laundry is boring.
Seriously, though, if socks could procreate, D's would be bunnies. In fact, I'm not entirely sure his don't. They might very well be in the back of the truck doing all kinds of dirty little things to each other. I'm picturing D driving down the road, a little Marvin Gaye "Let's Get It On" on the radio (although why D would listen to that when I'M not there is questionable, but I digress) and the socks are hooking up:
Sock #1: hey, cutie! Wanna mate?
Sock #2: Are you gonna call me after?
Sock #1: Sure. After we get washed and dried, sure.
Sock#2: Uh-huh. I've heard that before. You're going to go thru that hole in the back of the dryer and disappear.
Sock #1: No, baby. I wouldn't do that to you. I love you.
Sock #2: Ok. But what if little socks come from this?
Sock #1: Oh, that can't happen. I can't have little socks.
And that's as far as I got with that conversation. That was when I finally fell asleep. See...I don't sleep well when he's not here. I sleep, but I wake up constantly. I fell asleep around midnight, then was up at 1 til 1:30, then up at 3 til 3:15ish, then up at 5 til 5:45. Then I got up at 7 for the day. So, yeah, sock conversations are still running through my head. Sorry about that. I definitely need to sleep.
On a completely unrelated note (or kind of related, I suppose, in an odd way)...have you ever noticed how sexy it is to watch a grown man interact with a child? As I mentioned yesterday, D took the boys for a ride in the truck. We met up at a truck stop for this. The boys must hold my hand when in a parking lot, or at least the hand of an adult in our group. So, first J wanted to hold D's hand, and then later, C wanted to hold D's hand. I don't know if the fact that he's not their father makes it more so, but it was just so sexy and sweet to watch him holding their hands. If I'd had my camera (which I intended to take, and then completely forgot), I would have taken pictures. I didn't think I could fall more in love with him, but I did. There is something about watching him interact with my kids that just gets to me. I don't know...maybe part of it is the complete lack of involvement and interest from their sperm donor. Knowing that D actually takes an interest in my sons and wants to interact with them and take on a role in their lives means a lot.
But...to get back to my original point. Laundry. Specifically, D's socks. Seriously, when I was matching and folding his socks, I could have used them to create a fake him in the bed. I get why he needs so many, but wow, it's a lot. He made the comment that you can never have too many socks. I informed him that when I'm the one folding them, yes, you can.
It's kind of odd. I hate laundry. I try to get it all done in one day so that I don't have to think about it all the time. But when I was doing D's, I didn't really mind it so much. I mean, it was just as boring and tedious as ever, but for some reason, I almost enjoyed it. I wouldn't call it fun, exactly, but it was...nice.
I still hate laundry, though. Don't think that has changed, because it hasn't. I still say someone needs to invent something that will fold and put the clothes away for me. Once that's done, then cleaning the bathroom can move to the top of the list and well...I'll just make the kids clean that, and my life will be perfect. Well, nearly perfect anyway.
Ok, I think I should go sleep now. Clearly I need it, since I think not having to clean the bathroom would make my life perfect. Good night.
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