To Math or Not to Math……

How I ruined T’s life……again…..
Received an email from T’s teacher. He has been struggling to learn math. Understanding the formulas etc. Has not engaged with the help that has been offered to him. Was completely unable to answer questions on last math quiz because he did not understand. Well I sent a note back saying that she should send work home for T and he and I would work on them. And if the work did not make it home with him I was more than willing to pick it up from the school.
Waited for T to get home. Had sent the email to the ex but have heard nothing back from him.
‘Hello.’
‘Hey buddy how was your weekend?’
‘Good. Yours?’
‘Good. We have to talk about your math T. You are not doing well so Mrs. S is going to be sending work home with you.’
‘I am not doing homework.’
‘Yes you are.’
And it began. Drama King came out on his white charger. Surly Boy reared his head too and the attitude poured off of him.
How could I ruin his life like this? Did I not want him to have any fun? And how is it fair that the school can just email the parents? Why can they do that? They should not be able to email parents like this! He went on and on and on. I sat here staring at him calmly. At the end of his rant he went to pick up his bag with the Xbox in it. I stopped him.
He was not getting his Xbox not with that attitude he was throwing my way. But moooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm…….yeah no.
So he goes into his room and begins to kick things around. Throwing things and banging on his door. Until I told him to stop it. At which time he asked me if I had any boxing gloves? Why? I asked (not that I do) He wanted to punch his bedroom door until he broke it. Is this normal boy behaviour? I am not a boy so I really cannot say. Again yeah no.
Chores. Do the chores and maybe I will let you have your Xbox back. Without attitude. Some stomping of feet, muttering under his breath, half-assedly cleaning the cat litter box and feeding the cats. Stared at me while I contemplated……contemplated……..would he like some honey garlic wings if I made some? After a suitable amount of fear time (this is the amount of time one can stall whilst giving child heart attack that you may change your mind) I told him he could take it.
I made the wings. Told T that they were ready and if he wanted some he had to come out to the living room. He did. Sat next to me while we watched some show.
‘Mom I am sorry about earlier.’
‘I know you are and thank you for saying so. You still are going to have to do the homework with me.’
Sigh of disgruntled disgust. We start tomorrow when we get home from his dad’s. There will most likely be a lot of cursing and hair pulling. That of course is just myself on the inside as I work with T to understand these concepts. Wish us luck folks. 
Advertisements

Ruined I say!

***This post was written a few weeks ago but today I was able to finish.***
So….I have decided because he is so funny and a wealth of posts that I will create a new category…..I ruined his Life. T and me have been fighting a lot. And in every instance I ruined his life. These are the stories…..
Let us begin with Monday. 6:41 a.m. my phone rings. It is the school division letting me know that school was cancelled. Had they been any later and I would not have somewhere for T to go. Messaged ex and he stopped to pick T up. Brought him home in eveninng too. I worked 9:30-6. My day was easy. The Ex drops T off at 9:30ish. In the evening.
 So Tuesday morning. All is good until the end……T suddenly cannot find his hat. This hat that means life or death…..if he does not have this hat he is going to die. This is his favorite hat. Okay it is fricken freezing out. There is snow in my car. He is acting like a shit. Do not gasp in disgust…..every single parent out there has had the asshole moment. And you know what, we are going to face the asshole a whole shit load before they turn 18. This applies to daughters as well.
He left the hat on my couch. Nope. I cleaned on Sunday. There was no hat on my couch. 
Now it is 8:50. T has to be at school in 10 minutes. He is refusing to leave because he cannot find his hat. This hat is his favorite. And where is it? What did I do with it? 
So now, I am livid. He is pulling this shit…..the I am going to move slower than a sloth shit……I am boiling. Screaming. 
He finds a hat. Not his favorite but 2nd favorite.
 Wednesday a.m. I run to store to get sugar get home and he is still in bed. See Wednesday is shower day. That was awesome. Screaming. Water every where and how can I be so mean??????
 I get him clean. I thought all was good. All was not good. Omfg where did the hat go? He threw it at the PC last night. It should be on the floor. OMFG I lost it. Like lost it. Stuffed animals flew and T was screaming that I had ‘hurt’ him. The google eyes on his stuffies hurt him. I was seriously pissed.  There was much screaming. Oh holy hell…..I threw it here……you moved it and if not you the cats!! What????? The cats moved your damn hat. So once more there is screaming and yelling and I don’t know who is the loudest….me or him.
More fights. More mom is killing me. Omg she hurt me.I do not deserve this. 
Thursday….Mom……Yes T…..I found my hat…..Really where?…Over here where you looked. I did not look there. You said you threw it over here. You blamed me and my ninja like moves. You accused the cats of moving your hat.  We were totally out to get you.
Sooooooooo…..you tossed your hat….and I am at fault…..oh hell no…..I am calling you out.
Evil mom rides again. Me and the cats…..we deserve an apology. 
 I did not get a sorry. The cats did  not get an apology. However he calmed his shit down.
 Until today (Feb 17/19) Mom did some bad juju. But that is a story for tomorrow.

Splintered

t was another great morning
when I tried to awaken you
for suddenly
out of the stomach grew…..
an ache giving you quite a fright.
Moaning 
groaning 
holding your tummy
you twisted 
pleading 
begging me with teary eyes
to allow you to stay home.
Anger rose within my breast
my teeth grit
this is not first
not even the second
in this impasse.
I yelled.
Well…..
yelling…. 
it was not really yelling
I spoke loudly
harshly
telling you true…..
changes are coming 
you are going to be blue.
As I sit here
thinking
pondering what I have done…..
how I
have become too lenient
so permissive
it pains me to say…..
this mess is of my own making.
As I recall
recollect
words spoken
never to be unsaid
it magnifies
how splintered we are.
January 22/19

Update December 2018

T has gone for a sleepover at his best bud’s place. I decided that I was going to tackle his room. I mean c’mon the smell in that room was a palpabile. Stand at the doorway and you are choking. Yes this is my fault as I allowed it to get this far. But today was ‘D’ Day. I have been warning T that if he did not do something about that room I was going to. So I did. Have to say am right impressed with myself. 48 minutes to clean it, strip the bed, vacuum and voila. Spray a little Febreze and well I can enjoy the illusion for one day that it will not stink of sweaty feet, grungy hair, garbage not strewn all over the floor. Shhhhhhhhhh allow me this please. Just for a moment. 
 
I started a list of things that I found in T’s room while I was cleaning it.
 
1 roll of toilet paper tied up with a yellow rubber band.
2 1/2 full 2lt Pepsi bottles in his bed.
2 pairs (Mr. I have No Socks) of socks and several loose ones. After doing laundry it has been determined that he has approximately 8 pairs of socks. Like seriously?!?
My camera…..in the basket with all his cars. Cause…….movies mom movies.
1/2 of the cutlery I have been looking for
1/3 of the cups/mugs
and last but not least (I am a bit perturbed by this)
a plastic bag containing:
1 sock. 1 only.
Charger Cord
Magnetic Mirror that mechanics use
Tiny screw driver
 
I have to admit that in the grand scheme of things I have been pretty lucky. Yes T is a bit of a pig in a sty. He is getting there though. The other day he brought his cereal bowl out to the kitchen sink and looking over at me says ‘mom I must be growing.’ I am a little confused (he has the same bad habit that I do…..starting up a conversation on a different conversation that may have been 3 days ago but you know we are a little different T and me.)  ‘Meaning?’ ‘Well I brought my dish out of my room and put it into the sink.’ Oh. So you do something I have been nagging you to do for well forever….but now I am suppose to give you kudos for the one time that you brought out that bowl. Dude, I found half my cutlery drawer in your room. Why do you need that much cutlery? Is this a thing that I need to be concerned with? Is that the new initiation? How much cutlery can you hoard before your mom will brave your room? 
 
The beginning of this week was hard on both  of us. Getting use to the rules that differ from mom to dad’s place. Having to once more explain why he has to be off Fortnight at 9 p.m. Again it has gotten better as the week has progressed. Beginning of the week arguments when suddenly…..Wednesday was it? Yes it was. I was in a bad mood in the morning. And T began off with the lip. I was done. LOL I know how many times have you heard me or any parent say that and mean it? Yes there will be times but not when you are 10. We fought. On the way to school he is sitting arms crossed hostile to the end. We are going through the 20 km zone when I hear this pop. I look over at T and asked if he had just farted. Nothing. Than pop pop pop. And he starts to grin. Begins flapping his hands towards me. Where is a gas mask when you need one? I pulled up to the drop off zone (and let me tell you learning how to use the pick up/drop off lane plus the round about has not been easy) he grabs his bag hops out of the car, looks at me and tells me he loves me than slams the car door shut. Really? I was choking, gagging but this may have been the breaking point. 
 
When I told him it was 9 p.m. I expected a fight. No. He told his friend that he had to get off. He is talking to me on the ride home from the Ex’s. Oh yeah neglected to mention that part. I have no babysitter for T after school so I am relying on the Ex to help me out. Now I can return the favor and T will be spending the night here during his dad’s week. We have laughed a lot. Had to explain to T about what tenacious meant. Also how we have to correct the slightest deviation from known facts. Being literal I believe others call it. And than came the weekend. 
 
Friday night we get home. T does what he has to do and goes into his room. Xbox, Fortnight, ya know kid stuff.  I am sitting on the couch t.v. on in the background as I go through my emails. (Tonight is different. Tonight I am listening to my music on shuffle dancing in my seat and writing.) Suddenly I hear T tell his buddy that he is going to go. He wanted to come and hang out with me. Wait? What? I am sorry but who are you and what have you done with my son? I worry about him. Some might say I am overindulgent with him. Permissive. I am working on that. He has not fussed once about the bedtime hours. He has been doing his chores pretty regularly. I mean yes as we drive home I am asking him what he has to do but he is doing them. 
 
My child is so much like me that I hurt for him. He feels things differently. Hoards those thoughts and feelings until something sets it off and suddenly I am the bad guy. I now understand how my mom must of felt when I would go off on her in anger. I am bewildered. Blink rather rapidly as my brain fast forwards to catch up to what he is screaming at me. It is never what he is screaming it is what I have to dig for. Try as I might to not lose my shit I usually do. There are words. There are tears. Than the real talk begins.
 
Last night was not one of the screaming nights. No last night T made me feel short because he can take stuff off the top of the fridge without standing on tip toes. Also on tiptoe is able to reach where the bandaids are. We laughed. Sometimes 10 year old wisdom is so much better than the advice anyone else can give me. He is pretty astute. We had an amazing evening. T made paper airplanes, a ton of them while we chatted and I read emails. Blogs that I follow. It was nice. 
 
Today he is off for sleepover. I cleaned house. And I have written a chatty blog probably terrifying those who only know me through my poetry. Now I am not sure. The night is mine. The only night that is mine lol I will let it play out as it pleases. 
 
 

Middle School Years Ahoy!

Recently I received an email indicating that the Middle School had receieved T’s registration but there was confusion over the address. The house is right on the division line for two districts. I had to go in and show them proof that we paid to their district with the property tax bill.
Actually back right up a second, that email I received was not the first one. The first one was that they had T down on their registration but had not received his paper work as of yet. Yeah me, nearly not registering T for school next year. Although I am sure that he would have thought that was the best thing ever. When T showed up that evening I said okay, here is the paperwork, please take it in and hand it in. And he says to me, no word of a lie, oh yeah mom I kept meaning to tell you that I needed that. So tell me why didn’t you? Well because I forgot.
Alright registration in. Check. Next email is that there is some confusion over where the School tax was being paid. I had to go in and prove that we paid the property tax to the right school division. And yes, I said we because my name is still on the mortgage and the land title. I got the property tax bill from the Ex and stopped in on Friday so they could make a copy of it.
First (yes I know that I am all over and backtracking imagine if you actually were having this conversation with me; confused? Most likely 😄) So when you go up to the school there is a round-about. I hate round-abouts and they scare the hell out of me. But I conquered it. Mind you there was no one else around. Than I get to the school and I am mildly panicking over where I am going to park when I see Visitor Parking. Woh-hoo. Jay is having a good day. I gather up the Property Tax bill and walk into the school.
I am stopping here on my way to work, which means I am wearing my uniform. No doubt where I work. I walk into the office and introduce myself. The Vice Principal was right there to meet me. Oh dear lord what am I going to do? She is asking me questions about T. And me, like the loving mother that I am, I blanked. Right out blanked. No knowledge of T was crossing my  mind. And when I spoke it seemed like I was stuttering.
My son is brilliant. He is funny. He is smart. He tests my patience. He likes to write. He likes video games. He can be a little, okay really, a lot bossy. He takes after me in that regard. He builds vehicles with his lego. He farms on Farming Simulator. He builds ocassionally on Minecraft although I think he is outgrowing that. Now he has Call of Duty. And he figures them out.
He is also a little mouthy. ‘A little, I am going to push mom until she snaps and tellls me that when the office asks why I am late that I am to tell them that I had thrown a hissy fit.’ T was horrified and told me that was not allowed. I laughed and told him that if the school called me that is what I was going to tell them too. Again, not allowed, ha, watch me.
Anyhow, let me get back on track here. I stop in at the school and go to the office. I hand the Property Tax bill over to the Secretary and than boom! The Vice Principal right there to meet me. Shaking my hand. And than asking me about T. And I stalled. I was standing there wracking my brain on how to describe my son.
I stammered and stuttered and did the best I could. Where I am effusive with anyone else, singing T’s praises, I could not think of a thing to tell her. I explained a little about the situation with the Ex and me. I told her Tember could be sensitive. He is going to hate me. I explained how he sometimes felt that he could not go to the teachers if he saw something wrong going on because nothing seemed to be done. I told how he wrote his stories The Life of Pickel. He is still waiting for me to transcribe onto here. That he built vehicles with lego. Had worked with his dad in the shop.
We chatted a few moments more. I gave the secretary the name of two of the boys T had said were going to be going there as well. And than I made my escape.
I love the fact that the Vice Principal knew who I was. I love the fact that they are a hands on working with the students and knowing who each and every child is. I am in awe of the way they are now teaching. Find out how the child learns and using that. I know that T is going to thrive in this environment. Yes he is moving into a new phase. And to be honest not all that sure that I am ready for this.
But I will take a deep breath, and practice my breathing. We will get through this. ☺☺
Picture via: Photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash

Not in her Shadow

***Originally I was going to write about gratitude. But as usual what I assume/think I am going to write about ends up changing.***
I am my very own worst enemy. Forever I am telling myself why I cannot do things. I have an idea. I want to write about my journey through depression. It will be filled with my own brand of quirky writing and some of my blog posts and poetry. I have gotten as far as writing the introduction to myself. I have ideas but I am not sure how to implement them. Little bits and pieces float around in my brain and yet I am unable to bring myself to actually begin to write. Why? Because I keep stopping myself.
Both Grateful Single Moms and Claire S. had posts this morning that basically kicked me in the ass. Once more the universe is telling me to get my shit together. And if I don’t do it, I am going to miss my opportunity. So why am I so scared to begin? What do I have to lose? If I do not do this I am going to spend the rest of my life regretting it. If I do, an entire world will open before me. Yet I am still hesitant.
Today DD and me were talking about kids and how they can feel like they are in the shadows of their siblings. That they feel they will never come out from there, finding their own niche. My response was that I never had to contend with that, baby bro is 7 years younger than me and male. I mean he has payed me the biggest compliments twice in my life. Once when in junior high he found my atroctious first novel, changed the cover page and tried to hand the work in as his own. It was over 200 pages long of the worst drivel imaginable. Although he was looking for an easy out on an english assignment he still chose my work. And than this year, he told me I was talented. I don’t think he realized how much that meant to me. (I am crying as I write this.)
Than I thought about it and I do have a shadow that I have always felt I have been in. My mom is an amazing woman. I know I have written that like a thousand times and I will write it a thousand more. I can never be as kind, helpful, nonjudgemental and wonderful as she is. She coped with being divorced in the 1980’s. She coped with two children who as teenagers were selfish little snots who caused her so much hurt and pain. She found her dream and went for it. 1999 she retired and moved down to Mexico. For a couple of years she sort of floated around not sure what to do. The original plan was to open a beachside clinic as she is a trained nurse. Yet the more she looked around mom realized that the need was to help the families that lived in poverty around her.
Mom decided that she needed to give back to the community that had welcomed her. She set out to and created a foodbank. Mom travels to meet families in need to determine if they are eligible for assistance. She began a prenatal program for pregnant women. She developed programs within the school and has psychology students going in and working with the kids for free. (I maybe a little off on some of this in regards to the programs developed) She plans and co-ordinates the fund raising.
Clothing is donated for men, women and children. There are cruise ships that stop there and there are so many people who have been in touch with her and bring down school supplies and toiletries. Many people who visit her bring down a suitcase full of humanitarian aid. My mom is an amazing and selfless woman. And I know that I am not in her shadow nor do I need to fill her shoes. Yet subconsciously I think that I am not able to live up to her. An interview done on her several years ago called her the St. Sharon of Chixchulub. She will be the first to dispute this title. I am so proud that she is my mom and all the things that she has accompllished. And I am afraid that I am going to fall short.
Please do not think that in any way shape or form, has mom done anything to deter me. Not once has she insisted that I do things her way. Well she really wanted me to attend University but that was not in the cards for me. I did not have the desire to attend more classes. Maybe if I had been smart and gone into a writing program I would have perservered. Or not. Maybe the life that I have lead has brought me to this point. I know that she is proud of me and wants me to live the best life that I can for me. And I need to believe that. I need to believe in myself.
I have written that before . Goodness but my post is a lot of repetition today.
I do not know why I still doubt myself. Why I can talk to others and help them with their problems or issues and yet am unable to deal as effectively with my own. Every time that I start to talk about belief, all I can hear is Eminem singing ‘Believe’ in my head. Not the enitre song but just when he says ‘Believe’ in the chorus. As though even he is telling me to believe in myself.
I began this post saying it would be about what I am grateful for and yet it has turned into another one of my wandering stories. Covering everything and nothing. Yet I learned something within these words. I am going to end this post with one thing that I am grateful for.
I am grateful for my mom. She has shown me the discipline to reach for my dreams. She has shown me that anything I want is possible. She is my mom. And I love her so.
P.S. Mom is going to be horrified by all of this. Most likely will feel an inkling of guilt. I will get a letter or call later in which she will tell me that I am not in her shadow and I do not need to compare myself to her. That I am a wonderful woman in my own right. And she is right. But she is the woman that I look up to the most so inevitably I am going to compare myself to her. I love you mom.
P.P.S. This is the link to the article about mom written in 2012 if you would like to learn more.

Waiting

Something is just not right.

I know this because I sat here yesterday after cleaning my house, listening to country songs about great loves and happy endings. And I sobbed.

This morning, I ripped right into T as soon as he got up. Unleashed the tongue of death and completely ruined both of our days. He is in the bathroom crying and showering and I am drinking my coffee and crying.

I feel like a fraud. I am angry. I feel under-appreciated. I feel like I am the most selfish woman on the face of the planet to be bemoaning my petty little issues while people are facing larger ones on a daily basis. I just want all these feelings to stop. My heart hurts, my body hurts, everything hurts and I do not know what I have done to bring this on.

Because yes, I am falling down that rabbit hole again. And while at this point and time I seem to realize and know, I am unable to stop it.

Is it because it is Christmas? A time of good cheer and joy? A time where people blame me because we ran out of brussel sprouts, or the turkey just is not the right size. I will be worn down, facing the hoards with a smile on my face and joie de vie in my voice. When I get home, I will be numb, unable to talk to anyone, alone in my head.

All I really want to do is curl up in a little ball and hide. Maybe sleep a little longer. I cannot as I will not give into these feelings, but oh my god do I want to.

I bounce from one level to the next. Happy. Sad. Giddy with excitement for Christmas. Cringing because I have to face the hoards. There is no constant. Oh and the anger that hits me out of nowhere like a bolt of lightning. I have been here so many times and I know that a critical factor in this is the amount of pressure that I am putting on myself.

Pressure to:

  1. Be a good mom
  2. Be a good boss
  3. Be a good employee
  4. Be happy
  5. Be perfect
  6. Do everything by the book
  7. Follow all the rules
  8. Smile
  9. Have a kind word for everyone
  10. Smile more
  11. Pay the bills
  12. Provide
  13. Be a good friend

Those are not in order. Except for the be a good mom. That is always at the top of my list and that there, is the one I fail at all the time. I want to be a great mom, one that T is going to hold up as his example to being a parent. But I will fall into the other category I am sure, how not to be like mom.

I also realize deep deep down, that when I come out of this, I will not feel this way. But today, right now I do. As we both cry, and I hold him close and apologize, I know that this is not the real me. That this shrew is a mish mash of shit that I am carting around. That my depression is making one hell of a play for my mind, and I will eventually climb my way free.

But today is going to be a shit day. A hard day. I would rather stay home and stew. Cry. Maybe stand under the shower and scream. Instead, I will stand up straight, paint a smile on my face, and I will pretend.

Pretend to be a good mom, boss, employee, human being. I will hide my tears and speak only of good things, sugar plums and dancing fairies.

And I will wait.