This is not the Last Memory

T and I were arguing last week.
This seems to be a regular thing of late and I get it.
He is almost a teenager and striving to loosen my grip on his arm.
He wants freedom.
I want school work done.
We are working on this.
 
The amount of work that he has not done or is left half done is unacceptable.
And T knows this.
He has been telling me all along that his work is being done.
Well silly mom believing that he could be trusted to do all the work without my hanging over top of him.
 
My teaching is like my training.
Explain it once and then do it.
Hands on that is my style.
I believe you learn faster and are able to make it work in your mind with your own tricks and techniques.
So imagine how frustrating it is to both T and I when this technique does not work well for him.
His wanting me to tell him what to write and say is not a technique that works at all for me.
I have told him to use Google.
Or go and get himself an encyclopedia.encyclopedia
 
It is his reading.
I look at his test and read the instructions.
All of them.     
T stopped after the first item.
Which meant he neglected to read that three sentences were required for each of the 5 words he was to choose.
 
Next up the fact that I cannot read his printing.
At all.
I mean I am left handed and my writing is hard to decipher. 
When I was younger mom use to say that a course in reading my handwriting should be made mandatory.
Only she and my bestie were able to read it without issue.
I still have funky printing. 
And I do have to print because I work with kids who do not know what cursive writing is.
And my co-workers do not have the experience required to decipher my dips and dots.
My N’s look like D’s when capitalized.
Once I was asked who Dik was?
It was an N.ny
 
He asked me what the food chain definition and example were.
I told him I was not telling him again.
That I have now explained it four times.
He was not listening.
 
Look I get it.
I cannot even tell T why he must go to school and learn all these things.
Subjects and ideas that once he leaves school will never be thought of again.
The Ex too struggles because our son is asking him the exact same questions that he asked his dad.
Why are we learning about things that I do not need to know if I am never going to be using them?
And well I have to agree.
 
New Math was created because it is literally memorization.
Not the new but the old math.
I guess someone out there felt that that meant the little critters were not suffering sufficiently so let’s throw in 
seven steps to get an answer that everyone else in the world can do in one step.
I agree it is stupid.
Teachers everywhere can get mad at me but dude seriously…..
5+6=11.
Not 5 and 5 equal 10 and 6 minus 5 is 1. Now add that 1 to 10 and you get 11.
The answer.
Not only did the poor kid have to figure this out he has to write it all out too.
 
T is trying to get me down to an hour of homework a night.
I told him I would prefer he finish sooner.
For I too am being punished with homework.
I too at 48 am reading math and ELA.
Because I have to now be the drill sergeant.
And I cannot watch t.v. as it would distract him.
He never thought of it that way.
 
It would also stand him in good stead to do the work rather than bitch about it.
Yesterday he lolled on the couch next to me telling me about his day.
About everyone’s day.
When I tried to redirect him he complained that I was not listening to his day.
I get it he is not at all interested in doing this work.
But it must be done.
 
I was stood at the sink last week shaking after another morning of waking The Beast.
Once more I had to go in and wake him four or five times.
He refused to shower.
He cuddled the cats.
He told me the work was easy.
The day before he told me it was too hard to do and he needed my assistance.
I was furious.
I may have called bullshit.
 
Me: You know that I am not going to be here forever right?
T: Yeah why are you telling me this? 
Me: I don’t like starting our mornings arguing. I don’t like it when we argue at all.
T: I don’t like it either.
Me: I do not want that to be my last memory of you. 
T (confused): What?
Me: If this was my last memory of us I would not want it to be of us fighting.
T: Are you dying?
Me: No I just don’t like the fighting. And anything could happen. To either of us. 
And I would never want that to be the last memory I held.
 
This is my week with T.
He will work his way through this mound of work.
I have told him that this will occur this week.
For I graduated 30 years ago.
After learning all the normal Maths (you know) and English.
And I refuse to go back.
It’s like the recurring dream I have.
Where I am back in high school as an adult because it turns out I never really graduated.
 
Yeah imagine that one.
Now realize I am living it.
Out of my head.
In reality.
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.memory
 
©March 2/21
Picture is my own
Pictures via Pinterest

Teenager Girl vs Menopausal Woman (It is not a fight)

Damn not entirely sure which is worse:
Being a teenager with PMS or a woman with Menopausal Emotion Wave.
At least with PMS there was a designated time.
You could count on a calendar and have an aha moment.
Not with MEW.
As I write this it is 6:37 a.m.
I have been up for an hour and a half.
In this time period:
-felt happy
-felt pain (shoulder)
-felt energetic striped bed and did laundry.
-cried
-went in and woke T up for a hug.
Just so one knows he has been awake his dad picks him up at 7.
-cried some more
-admitted to being lonely to a friend
-feeling sexual
-feeling pretty
-felt old
-feeling stupid for feeling lonely
-decided to write about it because it may seem embarrassing but hey it is also funny.
I am teenager again in reverse.
Which might explain the few zits that have cropped up of late.
With the chocolate I eat well…..
Weight gain.
I lost weight as a teen.
Now I am putting it on.
Calmer. More accepting.
I was volatile and angry as a teenager.
I know the reason now but still…..
Man Crazy.
LMAO
Boy Crazy.
Not so much so I spent my high school years in a relationship.
Volatile.
PMS has morphed into MEW.
Also the pain in my shoulder is better and not better at same time.
I have so much better movement and most of the knots have been loosened .
But for the one that was really deep on the right side.
It is moving now.
And while I have a really high threshold for pain this pain has made me cry more than once.
I know what it is.
I know how to deal with it.
This is my fault.
What I cannot do is take anything stronger than Motrin.
I have waivered a couple of times.
When the pain is overwhelming.
And each time I have shot it down with a hard no.
But that is to give you an idea of the pain level I have reached.
Here comes another wave of tears.
Forgetting is wonderful.
Not.
I lose my train of thought in the middle of conversations.
All of a sudden I stop talking or something interrupts me and gone.
I am no longer embarrassed to say to whomever I am speaking with I’m sorry I lost my train of thought. What was I saying? or What were we talking about again?
My girl squad is awesome.
As a teen and now as an adult.
It dawns on (like right now) that marriage and babies start between 25-40.
Friends become partners and then parents.
Time dwindles as school/activities and appointments take over.
Now though most of us our kids are either graduating/teenagers or leading up to tweendom.
Save for one who is pregnant again. And excited.
This is her second marriage. Her husband and children from previous marriage are beyond the moon.
But I digress.
Now we have more time .
Now we are able to relax more.
Now we are able to just be.
No kids to yell at.
No kids yelling at you.
No kids period lol.
Without this girl crew I would be lost.
They are my touchstones.
And last but not least as a certain aged woman I can be friends with a man.
No one is looking at us weirdly.
No one expects anything.
We are friends.
He is my support.
He is my cheerleader.
He is the one who knows what I am like and makes sure I do things like eat.
Take rests.
Not overwork the shoulder.
We have been friends for nigh on a year and I do not know what I would do without him in my life.
I call him Papa Bear.
LOL T thinks that is weird but that is ok it is not his nickname.
One vast difference between teenage hormones and menopausal hormones:
as a teenager they are in excess
as a menopausal woman they are lacking.
And with that lack come the flashes of heat.
And the sweats of the night.
Night Sweats vs Hot Flashes:
Night sweats are horrific.
I wake up soaked and clammy cold.
I got up this morning and my hair was a rat’s nest.
It tried to eat my brush.
I stripped the bed and am washing the sheets.
It is gross.
Disgusting.
There is no way to get comfortable and for some bizarre reason despite my body having so much heat I am now swimming in my bed and yet at the same time I am frozen.
I woke up this morning in a tight fetal ball trying to get warm while everything else was wet.
Hot Flashes:
These I can feel coming on.
There is a general sudden warming of my body.
If I am quick and get the sweater of at work it will not be horrendous.
If I am unable to get the sweater of within two minutes I am flushed pink and sweating like crazy.
Wipe my forehead comes away wet.
I can feel it creeping down my body.
Lasts between two to five minutes maybe.
Not long.
And when over damn if I am not freezing again.
There is one aspect of menopause not shared with being a teenager.
Sudden growth of hair.
Below the chin.
Black.
Thank goodness for masks.
I will leave you with a dream I had not that long ago.
I really did not realize the import of that at the time but I remembered it.
Most likely because of how horrified I was in the dream.
In the dream I removed my mask and looked into the mirror.
And gasping in disgust.
I had grown multiple long black witch type hairs growing from my chin.
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Needless to say when I got up in the morning I was chin first into the mirror making sure that in fact it had only been a dream.
©Jan. 13/21
Picture via Pinterest