After our conversation regarding rape last evening T and me, we went on to have several more conversations. I was and am intrigued to discover, in hindsight, that due to our discussion about the aforementioned r talk, T now feels like he can ask me questions and I am not going to get angry about them.
He asked for the definition of bitch. A female dog, wolf, fox or otter. A difficult situation or person. If he really wanted to tick people off, ask them why they thought he was a female dog? Stymies them like crazy. (Someone had called him a bitch)
What about the f bomb mom? Is that also sex? Well, if you look up the definition that is the first one; having sexual intercourse with someone. So I tersely explained that it was more of a rough term. Than there is the situation aspect.
This morning he asked me about a**hole? What did that mean? So I said well, a mean or nasty person. But no mom, what does it really mean? Well your butt hole, also properly known as the anus. We also looked this one up.
Those of you who have been following T and me for awhile, know my frustration that T does not like to read. Well, he decided to take his Dog Man 3 book home to his dad’s with him to finish. Is looking forward to the new one coming out. Maybe I am being too optimistic in thinking that our conversation last night is having some effect here. Also that given his nature, I think deep down T is horrified that they used this word. Being cruel is abhorrent to his true self. So, he may be trying to educate himself on words and their meanings. (When you know the root meaning of words sometimes they can take the sting out of them when parsed that way)
We sat at the dinner table and talked while we ate. There was a lot of talking going on last night. And this morning. He is in awe of how fast I can type and the fact that I do not need to look at the keyboard. Ha, I was trying to show off to him and this is basically what I type: Txhyyyyyy llmgtw oooot yeah mom you so smrt. T asked where I had learned and how long it had taken. And how did I know where every letter was on the keyboard.
But the best conversation of all was our conversation about Mexico and Chichi (mom) and myself maybe retiring down there. Not likely at the moment but a woman can have dreams. I cannot even afford a two week holiday there lol, never mind move. But T was full of questions. How old had I been when Chichi moved? Had it been hard? And that was when I dropped the bomb on him that I might want to move there.
The look on his sweet 9 year old face was one of hell no, uh huh you are not going anywhere mom. And thus the list of reasons why I cannot move to Mexico:
- It is a poor country
- It is too hot
- They have nothing new
- The cars are very old
- Why would I want to live in an area that meteorite are known to frequent.
- He could not go 10 months without seeing me
- The area that Chichi lives in has some of the richest homes that are only used 2 months out of the year, like Chichi and the beach, well that was their beach.
- You do not have to come and see me
- Of course they do. Chichi had a flat screen t.v. before we did. (That was due to money though T insisted and I pointed out that this was 2 years ago)
- He had to take into account that they were a coastal area and the sea salt did damage to the vehicles.
- Not since the last one 65,000,000 years ago
- There was skype and whatsapp
And he looked at me and said No mom, I could not go 10 months without seeing you in person every day. Now this might be a stretch because you have to remember that he does go 14 days out of the month without seeing me. Okay save for when he and his dad come shopping and I always get a hug and kiss. But still. My heart melted and I looked at my little boy. I love him so much.
He than farted. 🙂
- Find a guy who makes me laugh.
- Find a guy who talks to me.
- Find a guy who listens.
- Find a guy who respects me.
- Find a guy who encourages me in my hobbies even when he does not understand them.
- Find a guy who encourages my passion(s).
- Find a guy who when I impose limits; accepts them without arguing.
- Find a guy who will hug me when I am sad.
- Find a guy who will celebrate my successes and failures. (Failures lead to future successes)
- Find a guy who will hold me while I ugly cry, barf into a bucket, or any other issue that makes me feel like shit.
These are my goals. Not for everyone I know. And really folks I used the term guy because I like men. These rules can apply every which way. (Except children and animals but that really should not need to be stated.)
This is a pretty steep set of goals a man must face if he wants to move beyond the friend zone with me. However I know what my worth is now. After years of setting my wants and needs to the side, I now realize where I stand.
And if my frog never arrives to be kissed, reverting to said Prince status, I will still live my life to the fullest, inspired and loved by those who do find their way into this story of mine.
Procrastination. Avoiding doing a task that needs to be accomplished. And today I did a very good job of procrastinating.
If y’all recall I was going to clean house today. And I did. For 8 hours. With a brief stop to drive T to his dad’s. And to eat.
I (with T’s help) moved my bed around making my room look larger. Moved in the one bookcase and it works fine. Got rid of the small bedside table I had and moved my amma’s table my grandfather had refinished so history into my room.
Moved the living room around. T.V. now moved over and was able to repurpose old bedside table as a stand for the tower. I did run into a wee problem when after unplugging and untangling all the wires for the computer I could not get the speakers to work. Resolved by a friend who told me to see if they had been muted. They had been.
The living room looks bigger as does the kitchen now that the table is in my room.
I ache. I utilized more of my storage space. I hung up a few items that I have had sorta floating around. And once more a tiny step into my world….the one I deserve and have earned. 😊
Went yesterday to the Ex’s to have him replace the two wheel studs that had broken off my tire when he put the snow tire on the rear driver side and my plug to plug the car in. Yes, Saturday, despite years of constant checking, I drove off with my car plugged in. The cord remained plugged into the outlet and the plug ripped free from the car. Ah yes, the shades of red my face was Saturday night when I arrived home from work, was hidden by the darkness. The ‘Are you f***ing kidding me?’ as I shook my head and ground my teeth in frustration, was pure comedy.
This is also my week with T so I killed two birds with one stone and he came home with me once the Ex was all done with the repairs. We also discussed a few things with regards to T, and how we were going to go together and help T out with a purchase of a gaming system that he wants. I am the lesser of the idiots when it comes to gaming platforms so I shall be the one doing the research and looking around for the best deal. T wants an Xbox 360 except I have discovered that Xbox has its next generation Xbox One out. There was also a discussion with regards to language.
Remember how T dropped the f bomb on me? Well apparently he has been really vulgar at his dad’s. Yesterday he was asked if he was allowed to swear at my place and obviously his answer was no. So they wanted to know why he thought he could swear while at his dad’s? I am sure that T is going to long for the days when his dad and me did not talk for no sooner was he in the car with his seatbelt on than the question was asked: I understand that you have been swearing a lot what is that all about? I don’t know, as he looks at his lap.
Look I am not an idiot. I know that he swears. I am not so far removed from my own vulgarity and the recalled horror of the one time I dropped the ‘f’ bomb on mom, but there is a place and a time. The place and time right now is not within hearing distance of any adult and only with your friends. As I said, I know it happens, I do not need to hear it too.
We talked all the way home with a few laughs. Found out how far he was in his Call of Duty game. Learned that a new one was coming out and soon all his on-line friends would be playing that and not the one he had. Which lead to a discussion about how he would have to earn money to purchase said game, that they were not free. I do believe that he is beginning to understand that money is not something that grows on trees.
Although it is only the beginning of winter, there is already a snow pile in both the parking lot of the gas station next door and a wee one next to the building. We were going over the rules of snow hills. No sliding down snow hills that are piled up at the street corners. No sliding down hills in parking lots. The one on the side of the building is okay as now no one can park there. (It is our visitor parking)
We are sitting at the red light discussing the rules. I look over and read the sign for a local restaurant: 9 pc Chester Chicken with fries and 2 liter pop $5 off.
‘And T I really do not want you to be run over by a chicken.’
I knew as soon as it came out of my mouth. And I howled. T looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted wings and repeated ‘a chicken mom’?
I pointed over to the sign and he read it and looked at me. I am giggling uncontrollably because I totally know what happened. I was saying the standard ‘I don’t want you to get hit by a car’ at the same time as I was processing the sign about the sale on chicken and those wires crossed. This is not the first time nor will it be the last time it happens. I am the Queen of wires crossing and the weirdest things coming out of my mouth. I have asked people if they would like milk for their bags? Would they like cereal in boxes? Some days I think it might be better for me to keep my mouth shut, but the comedy is gold I tell you.
The start of our week was awesome. What with the laughing and snow hills and all. Just remember folks to watch out for those deadly snow chickens, you never know when they will appear.
Yesterday T and me, we went shopping. I had not been in awhile and although the freezer selection of meat was fine, I had run low on lunch supplies. Side dishes. And I needed some more fish. And the Top Sirloin Roasts and Steaks, they were on for a great price. So I had to. But this is not about my shopping trip or the fact I overspent once more but got a ton of Air Miles, not this, this is about T.
On the way to the store, T found the old wipers I had taken off of the car and replaced last weekend. He was pretending that one was a gun. Our drive is approximately 5 minutes. During that time he killed I do not know how many bad guys, all the while with a running commentary so that I was kept safe.
No problemo. Get to the store and there is a small rule I have. This is where I work. Please do not run amok and act like a moron. In other words, for the 20 minutes it will take us to shop, please pretend that you are an alien who is inhabiting my child’s body; who watched Miss Manners while trying to learn our culture. Alas, it was not meant to be. There were bad guys everywhere.
I stopped to grab vitamins. Requested that T stay with the cart. Turn around and who is behind be? Sans cart? T! I roll my eyes and ask where the heck the cart is. Here mom, I moved it two rows over, it is safe here. The logic of a 9 year old boy.
My eyes got a great workout while we were shopping. I was rolling them. Hissing his name every 30 seconds it felt like as he whipped around corners. I get gargling my threats, as I silently shrieked watch out at him. He was immune to my silent glares. I apologized to so many customers that he almost sideswiped.
In T’s defense, he was using the cart as a shield and attacking the bad guys. He was keeping the shopping world safe.
Realized that I forgotten butter. Made him promise not to move from the bakery section. Came back to find him in the meat department visiting with the lobsters.
I explained to him that despite his apparent dislike for grocery shopping that the more he misbehaved the more times he was going to have to come with me. He stared at me like I had grown three heads and I could suddenly see the hamsters achurnin’. How much worse would he have to be before I would stop making him come? I quickly shut those hamsters up by explaining that until such time as he can act like a human being, he will be continuing to shop with me.
This goes against everything T has been taught. Behave badly and get what you want. Yell and scream, mom or dad will let me go out. Not now. Mom and dad are on the same page. No more bad behaviour. And it is my responsibility not to beat a dead issue, to ensure that when I release him into the world, that he knows how to behave as a member of society.
We got to the till and T takes off with the bags while I am unloading. I stand up and wth? Where did he go? My supervisor found him and I am again hissing at him. I must have sounded like a snake half the time. Get over here with the bags please. Sent him off to get me a flyer. Turn around and he is sitting down with two bags and the flyer.
My supervisor bagging is chortling to herself. She is newly married. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and gave her my best advice ‘avoid children at all costs.’
We finally got out of there and home. T helped by carrying in the two lightest bags on his windshield wiper bow. Than he was off. I was texting with a friend and grumbling to him about the behaviour in the store when he stopped me dead in my tracks:
‘Jay he is a 9 year old boy being a 9 year old boy. Hopped up on sugar and grocery shopping with his mom. Of course he was obnoxious.’
And there you have it. Sudden shift of perception. He is not even a human being at the moment. He is a 9 year old boy who sees bad guys and guns everywhere. Trucks and cars and loud noises are his forte. Fart jokes and things like ‘why did the girl fall off the swing? ‘Cause she was dead!’ sends him into spasms of laughter.
No matter how often I cringe, the words balls, nuts, etc are now a part of the lexicon in my household. And not by choice.
Yes it is my job to make him that alien who can go shopping, but it is also my job to let him be this alien who is a rambunctious child filled with joy and innocence for as long as I am able.
Other than being slightly confused as to how many more days it is until October 1st, I am doing alright. In 5 more days, I will have been separated and living on my own with T for a year and a half. My marriage actually imploded two years ago in the middle of October, but that is not an anniversary that I really want to remember. Despite being the catalyst of said imploding, I am not proud of the pain that I caused my ex. I could have dealt with the situation so much better than I did, but that is for another day.
Yesterday, after spending my morning lolling about lazily on the computer, around noon I decided that I should get my butt in gear and start cleaning house. Well, what started out as my weekly cleaning became a giant purge. The only room untouched by my desire to throw out, get rid of and tidy up is T’s. But I will be putting on the Haz-Mat suit on Thursday and entering the dreaded boy zone.
Back to yesterday. 6 loads of garbage to walk down to the dumpster. 2 large boxes for self-help. 1 bag of bedding for T to take to his dad’s. I used a tool that I learned years ago and until yesterday have never applied. Has it been used in the last year? Or worn? Is it useful to someone else or broken? And with that, the clutter was gone. No more clothing taking up space that I never wear.
I reorganized my linen closet. It is actually a pantry but I prefer to use it for towels and sheets. I first began by pulling all the bags out from the bottom. And I had tons. I have plastic bags in plastic bags in a reusable shopping bag. I had tons of gift bags. I had tissue paper coming out of every corner of the small closet. And the amount of bedding. Where the hell did it all come from? Were my sheets mating and procreating? Hand towels galore. I tossed the really torn and thin towels. Kept two sets of sheets and pillow cases for T’s room. The rest is going to his dad’s.
My bed became a pile of clean clothing I kept pulling from the dryer and throwing there until I could fold it. Towels and bedding I was keeping soon followed. And then I became distracted by my bedroom closet. I began sorting and throwing into the give away pile on the bed. As the amount of clothing began to shrink in my closet and empty hangers were taking up more space, I began to feel a weight lifting.
I admit, I am a haphazard cleaner when I do a clean and purge like I did yesterday. For every time I left what I was doing, to add something to a pile or the garbage, I would become distracted by the room I had just entered.
Take the bathroom for instance. Walked in and opened the dryer to get the clothes out. Dumped on bed. Walked back into bathroom intent on putting other clothes in dryer. Instead I sat down and proceeded to clean out the cupboard beneath the sink. Than I stood up to go get a cloth to wipe out the cupboard, picked up the garbage and came back half an hour later to finish. At which time I also put the last load of clothing in the dryer.
I also did some reorganizing of cupboards in the kitchen. Cleaned the top of the fridge. Moved games out of sight into closed cupboards instead of spread all over. Slowly our apartment is going from an apartment to becoming our home. We are going to be here for some time so there is no need for us to live like transients, ready to leave in an instant.
M the ex came and picked T up early. I thanked him and explained that I was in the midst of a purge/clean. He snickered to himself and I let it pass. When we were together, I despised house cleaning. I was okay with laundry, vacuuming and dishes, but washing floors, the bathroom, made me cringe. I would procrastinate until fights were being had. Now, I clean faithfully. I have a tidy home, with everything having a place to be. Not sure where this phenomenon comes from but there we have it.
It was after 6 when I finally was done. Bathroom cleaned and scrubbed. Floors all vacuumed, swept and washed. Bed (mine) cleaned off. Everything either folded and put away or set aside for the self-help. (I had packed the car with the items to drop off at self-help and for T.) I sat on the couch for a bit, unwinding, and allowing the silence to settle over me.
I felt as though another massive weight was lifted from my shoulders. That in a way I was letting go of things I had clung to from the past. I was purging the misery, the hatred and anger that emotionally I had let go of, but still had material items that retained memories that were not pleasant.
And last but not least, my home was clean.