Friday, May 22, 2009
Sometimes She Can Be A Real Jerk
Waking up to hear only ½ of a conversation and starting her grumpy “Blah, blah, blah” so the person on the other end of the line can hear her insensitivity 9.5 times out of 10 is unnecessary. In an effort to keep peace I close the door only for the child on the other end of the line to hear her bang thru it with more of a tirade, my mistake. It’s these days I hate, the position of being the peacekeeping middle woman. With the level of stress in this house we are bound to snap once in a while, I try to keep it from the kids. Middle son said “Mom, I’m sorry I made you two fight, again.” It breaks my heart every time because he thinks it’s his fault. She will calm down eventually, explain and apologize; I accept it because I understand it. Unfortunately, the damage is done and he heard what he heard, no backtracking now – the damage is done.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Water Dish Puddle
Some months I wish for menopause to kick in. As I sat on the couch with the paper and my coffee the nagging jabs in my abdomen are quite distracting, I hope the day gets better. She is still in bed with a nagging migraine, something that she lives with from her accident. I had just replaced the ice pack on her forehead and realized that I hadn’t seen our second dog in a while. After a panicked check thru the house I checked the yard, hoping that the fence was latched. Oh, crap where is this dog now? Gate locked, house checked so I checked again. He has decided to start not obeying or responding to his name, his hearing is fine. Raider is becoming ornery and it’s going to get him in more trouble than he intends. I finally find him under my side of the bed, the bed with the migraine patient. As the blood is rushing to my head he has tilted his head and is looking at me to say “What now?” He chooses to move to the middle of the California King so he is way out of my reach. The patient gives an incoherent moan, “can I get you anything honey” I say sweetly as I’m thinking, thank god I don’t have to tell her I lost her dog as I tip toe out of the room.
That disaster averted I check to ensure that I’ve locked the screen door and I feel water between my toes. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from, judging on the location and the wet placemat, maybe the pet’s ceramic water dish has sprung a leak. After all the water is moped up and I can’t find the leak in the dish, I fill it again and hope for the best. About an hour later I hear a splashing noise, I look over at the dish to find our annoying 14 year old cat splashing. There are drops of water hanging off his whiskers, his face looks like it was dunked and he is happily emptying the dish. There is no crack in the dish, the cat who thinks it’s a dog has completely lost it. I yell a four letter word in his direction and clean up the water for the second time, this time only filling it with about 1/3 of water. I think this has now aggravated the cat a bit because he finds that sitting in front of me and whining will get him more water to play with.
She surfaced from our bed around noon with only one eye open. The cat’s whining has woken her enough to investigate. She is a bit perplexed that I am ignoring the cat, surely there must be something wrong with him to prompt a noise like that. Once she is able to see the look on my face thru her one eye, satisfied that the cat is fine she staggers back to bed. The cat follows and has decided that whining at the end of our bed will get attention. Poor kitty did get attention in the form of a slipper thrown at his head.
It has been a very long day with Mr. Paws. I have not given in, adding more water to the dish. EIGHT HOURS since my barefoot discovery and he has not let up, Anyone want a cat?
That disaster averted I check to ensure that I’ve locked the screen door and I feel water between my toes. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from, judging on the location and the wet placemat, maybe the pet’s ceramic water dish has sprung a leak. After all the water is moped up and I can’t find the leak in the dish, I fill it again and hope for the best. About an hour later I hear a splashing noise, I look over at the dish to find our annoying 14 year old cat splashing. There are drops of water hanging off his whiskers, his face looks like it was dunked and he is happily emptying the dish. There is no crack in the dish, the cat who thinks it’s a dog has completely lost it. I yell a four letter word in his direction and clean up the water for the second time, this time only filling it with about 1/3 of water. I think this has now aggravated the cat a bit because he finds that sitting in front of me and whining will get him more water to play with.
She surfaced from our bed around noon with only one eye open. The cat’s whining has woken her enough to investigate. She is a bit perplexed that I am ignoring the cat, surely there must be something wrong with him to prompt a noise like that. Once she is able to see the look on my face thru her one eye, satisfied that the cat is fine she staggers back to bed. The cat follows and has decided that whining at the end of our bed will get attention. Poor kitty did get attention in the form of a slipper thrown at his head.
It has been a very long day with Mr. Paws. I have not given in, adding more water to the dish. EIGHT HOURS since my barefoot discovery and he has not let up, Anyone want a cat?
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Asking For Help - May 20, 2009
How is it possible that once you finally decide to humble yourself and ask for help, you are denied?
My partner who is a disabled woman decided that it was time to seek out some help from the state, something she has never had to do. Because I am unable to find work, not for lack of trying we are seriously having issues making ends meet.
Presently out income is below the poverty level, my question is how much lower than poverty level do you have to be to receive help?
My partner who is a disabled woman decided that it was time to seek out some help from the state, something she has never had to do. Because I am unable to find work, not for lack of trying we are seriously having issues making ends meet.
Presently out income is below the poverty level, my question is how much lower than poverty level do you have to be to receive help?
Monday, May 18, 2009
Why So Sad?
She and I stood outside the Middle School with all the other mothers of the sixth grade class. She spotted the bus first, the past five days passed at a snails pace. This was the first time one of the boys was away from me longer than their two nights with their father. I was quite surprised at the sadness and void I felt with him not being in the house, I missed him something horrible. As the bus doors opened kids jumped out with wide eyes and bright smiles and then came my middle guy holding his head down dragging his carry on behind him, my heart sank.
I would not dare kiss him in front of his peers so I settled for a little squeeze. While we waited for his luggage to be unloaded we asked, “Why so sad, what’s with the long face?” “As soon as we are in the car and away from THEM I’ll tell you” he then looked at me with a little smile and said “I missed you mom.”
I was aware of his troubles with a few of the cool boys/bullies at school. It’s not easy being a kid with a learning disability in special ed. I voiced my concerns to the proper authorities at school before this trip and we were assured that there would be an abundance of supervision. I’m not unrealistic and I do know that kids will be kids and there is no such thing as a perfect child. It seems that the cool boys made it their goal to make my guy’s trip a living hell. Once we were home we listened carefully, made notes of names and events that occurred. Come Monday morning it looked like I was going back to school, again.
Staying on the Island was not an option as we had an early Saturday appointment with the architect to start planning the addition of a great room on the main floor and two rooms on the second floor. Since two boys were at their father’s already I called to let him know that middle guy was staying with us for the weekend, to say the father showed a bit of concern is a gross understatement.
That night after we settled middle guy in the guest bedroom she opened the conversation with “Don’t get upset”. Of course my antennae go up and she proceeded to fill me in on the details of middle guy’s week. Things have escalated since the last time these children took aim at middle guy. He confided in her and talked to her privately so that he could spare me the details. I had a great deal of concern for my son but at the same time I was greatly relieved that he trusted her enough to talk to her.
The cat was out of the bag about the construction we were preparing to have done on the house, I had not seen a smile on middle guys face like the one I saw that day in a very long time. It was a great weekend for him and for us too. He gained a trusted friend in the woman that would eventually become his step mom. She gained a new buddy who shadows her every move and has become her mini-me. Together they make a great team, sometimes I have to put them both on a time out and I could not be happier.
I would not dare kiss him in front of his peers so I settled for a little squeeze. While we waited for his luggage to be unloaded we asked, “Why so sad, what’s with the long face?” “As soon as we are in the car and away from THEM I’ll tell you” he then looked at me with a little smile and said “I missed you mom.”
I was aware of his troubles with a few of the cool boys/bullies at school. It’s not easy being a kid with a learning disability in special ed. I voiced my concerns to the proper authorities at school before this trip and we were assured that there would be an abundance of supervision. I’m not unrealistic and I do know that kids will be kids and there is no such thing as a perfect child. It seems that the cool boys made it their goal to make my guy’s trip a living hell. Once we were home we listened carefully, made notes of names and events that occurred. Come Monday morning it looked like I was going back to school, again.
Staying on the Island was not an option as we had an early Saturday appointment with the architect to start planning the addition of a great room on the main floor and two rooms on the second floor. Since two boys were at their father’s already I called to let him know that middle guy was staying with us for the weekend, to say the father showed a bit of concern is a gross understatement.
That night after we settled middle guy in the guest bedroom she opened the conversation with “Don’t get upset”. Of course my antennae go up and she proceeded to fill me in on the details of middle guy’s week. Things have escalated since the last time these children took aim at middle guy. He confided in her and talked to her privately so that he could spare me the details. I had a great deal of concern for my son but at the same time I was greatly relieved that he trusted her enough to talk to her.
The cat was out of the bag about the construction we were preparing to have done on the house, I had not seen a smile on middle guys face like the one I saw that day in a very long time. It was a great weekend for him and for us too. He gained a trusted friend in the woman that would eventually become his step mom. She gained a new buddy who shadows her every move and has become her mini-me. Together they make a great team, sometimes I have to put them both on a time out and I could not be happier.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
The Confused Easter Bunny
“Happy Easter, Munchkin!” was the first thing I said when middle guy answered the phone. “Mom, it’s bad … Dad forgot to hid the eggs, I woke up at 4:40 and saw that they were still on the table, so I hid them before I went back to sleep.” “There are no Easter baskets either” middle guy whispered in the phone. I could feel my anger rising but kept my tone happy and festive, she was watching my neck get splotchy and my ears get red as I spoke to each child. I kicked into Mommy mode suggesting that maybe the Easter bunny got all mixed up and left two baskets at our house, we would find out tonight when we got home. I then spoke to the adult in charge “What is wrong with you? You could not even remember to hide the eggs for the kids, our middle child had to cover for you!” “Wake up and pretend to have just a little interest in making Holidays exciting and fun for the Boys, thank god you have your sister to fall back on.”
We had breakfast then went on our own Easter hunt searching for a basket to put a duplicate together so that two out of three children don’t think that the Easter bunny forgot about them. Talk about feeling like an idiot running into multiple drugstore and supermarket chains to find a basket to fill on Easter. I think after our ninth stop we found a lonely basket that had seen better days, but it was better than nothing. We had plenty of candy at the castle and there was an insane amount of goodies waiting back on Long Island.
The drive back to Long Island was uneventful, while everyone was having their celebrations the roads were pretty clear and it was smooth sailing the entire route. We ran into the house to hide the eggs and prepare the second basket. I called the father to advise that we were home earlier than planned, his response was “thank god”. I thought that was odd, but then again he is an odd one. Twenty-five minutes later the boys were stomping up the stairs with happy meals in hand, no baskets. He was holding up the rear holding the boys dress clothes that I were way to clean to have been worn. There was not one smile in the group, I mouthed “what’s wrong” in the father’s direction.
“I didn’t feel like going to my sister’s house, and they have been miserable all day asking to go home.” Again the splotches started, my ears turned a bright red and thru gritted teeth I think it went something like this “You irresponsible selfish son of a bitch, from the get go on Thursday you did nothing but screw up, it’s no wonder they don’t like spending time with you. This entire extended weekend was at your request, I only consented because I knew your sister would make a really big deal about the Holiday and the kids would have fun, you forgot to hide the eggs, didn’t have the common sense to put a basket together and then decided to do nothing for the kids … GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Once the door was shut and my breathing was back to normal I went into the kitchen to find the little guy still in his coat, happy meal in his lap and she was wiping his tears. “You are a very good boy, I think the Easter Bunny got mixed up, go look in the living room” she said holding back her own tears and anger. Because of Asperger’s Syndrome the big guy keeps most emotion to himself, he saw his little brother’s hurt, that cue allowed him to vent his own thoughts on this past weekend of disaster.
Smiles all around, there were eggs hidden EVERYWHERE, some were real others were plastic with money in them. Baskets with candy, books toys, markers and pens were dismantled all over the floor, what a mess. The happy meals were cold and forgotten so we tossed them in the garbage and decided on an indoor picnic instead. Middle guy came into the kitchen “Thanks mom, you are the best. You know he didn’t even color the eggs with us, I asked the lady upstairs to help me get everything set up and she helped us while dad slept Saturday afternoon.” I gave him the biggest hug and said, “Never again will I allow this to happen, you are stuck with her and I for always.”
We had breakfast then went on our own Easter hunt searching for a basket to put a duplicate together so that two out of three children don’t think that the Easter bunny forgot about them. Talk about feeling like an idiot running into multiple drugstore and supermarket chains to find a basket to fill on Easter. I think after our ninth stop we found a lonely basket that had seen better days, but it was better than nothing. We had plenty of candy at the castle and there was an insane amount of goodies waiting back on Long Island.
The drive back to Long Island was uneventful, while everyone was having their celebrations the roads were pretty clear and it was smooth sailing the entire route. We ran into the house to hide the eggs and prepare the second basket. I called the father to advise that we were home earlier than planned, his response was “thank god”. I thought that was odd, but then again he is an odd one. Twenty-five minutes later the boys were stomping up the stairs with happy meals in hand, no baskets. He was holding up the rear holding the boys dress clothes that I were way to clean to have been worn. There was not one smile in the group, I mouthed “what’s wrong” in the father’s direction.
“I didn’t feel like going to my sister’s house, and they have been miserable all day asking to go home.” Again the splotches started, my ears turned a bright red and thru gritted teeth I think it went something like this “You irresponsible selfish son of a bitch, from the get go on Thursday you did nothing but screw up, it’s no wonder they don’t like spending time with you. This entire extended weekend was at your request, I only consented because I knew your sister would make a really big deal about the Holiday and the kids would have fun, you forgot to hide the eggs, didn’t have the common sense to put a basket together and then decided to do nothing for the kids … GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Once the door was shut and my breathing was back to normal I went into the kitchen to find the little guy still in his coat, happy meal in his lap and she was wiping his tears. “You are a very good boy, I think the Easter Bunny got mixed up, go look in the living room” she said holding back her own tears and anger. Because of Asperger’s Syndrome the big guy keeps most emotion to himself, he saw his little brother’s hurt, that cue allowed him to vent his own thoughts on this past weekend of disaster.
Smiles all around, there were eggs hidden EVERYWHERE, some were real others were plastic with money in them. Baskets with candy, books toys, markers and pens were dismantled all over the floor, what a mess. The happy meals were cold and forgotten so we tossed them in the garbage and decided on an indoor picnic instead. Middle guy came into the kitchen “Thanks mom, you are the best. You know he didn’t even color the eggs with us, I asked the lady upstairs to help me get everything set up and she helped us while dad slept Saturday afternoon.” I gave him the biggest hug and said, “Never again will I allow this to happen, you are stuck with her and I for always.”
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