Mom to the Screaming Masses

Rubber band brain You

Rubber band brain

You know how, when you try to tighten a rubber band a bit farther than it really wants to go, or you pull a bungee cord just a bit too far, and the end snaps away and you have to chase after it? That's kind of how my mind is lately. I get a thought, grab hold of it, and it promptly slips away. Slides away. Slithers away, and I can *just* see the tail end of the thought, can kind of see how I got there, but not exactly what I wanted to remember. Ever experience that? It's maddening!

I looked at some pictures today of my oldest son on his latest Scout camping trip. I see him every day, of course, but I really don't see the other boys all that often. It took me a minute to realize that these hulking, teenage looking boys, were the same ones that he has been in Scouts with since Kindergarten. My son is one of the only ones who hasn't hit his growth spurt. The others have. Man, they looked huge. And smelly. I never grew up with boys - no brothers, male cousins far away, dad gone alot. This whole "boy" thing is still new to me. As an example, he wanted to get another kid's attention, when the other kid was on the street and my son was in an upstairs room. So, he took the screen out of the window and threw something at the kid. Not surprisingly, the kid won't talk to my son now. While beloved hubster was yelling at our son and punishing him - rightfully so, what WAS the kid thinking? - I felt so unhappy for my son. I hate to see my kids upset, and he was really sad and hurt. I never thought my parents felt any discomfort when they punished me, but they must have.

This parenting thing is hard. The funny thing is, I thought, at the time, that the baby era was so much work; so time-consuming and well, just so much to do. I'm finding that actually, except for the lack of sleep, the baby and toddler part isn't usually overwhelmingly hard. It's the preteen years that are grabbing me by the throat. When I can't make it better with a kiss and a spiderman bandaid, but Ijust have to sit there and listen. Hug and kiss, if they will let me, and just be there.

Movies I went out to

Movies
I went out to dinner tonight with some girlfriends. That was so much fun. I had the baby with me, and she just laid down, stuck her fingers in her mouth and went to sleep. Those of you who know my children know how rare this is. So far, knock wood and praise God, she is the calmest, most content child. Please let it continue!!
I was looking at our selection of DVD's, and we really run the gamut. We've got 8 or 9 Baby Einsteins for the youngest two, Blue's Clues, Bob the Builder, and the Rubbadubbers for next two, Madeline, Arthur, and Barbie movies for the next. Then, the second to the oldest has Kim Possible, Lizzie McGuire, Freaky Friday and Cheetah Girls. The oldest? His taste runs to Stargate, Lord of the Rings, and so on. Try, just try, to find one movie that everyone will watch without an argument. I double dog dare you.

Freedom Moody Mama posted

Freedom

Moody Mama posted something that's been on my mind lately. My oldest will be twelve in less than two weeks. It's a frightening thought, and a scary age. He's straining at the seams to GO - to DO - to BE - anything grown up and older. I remember when I was his age, I'd get on my bike and ride around for a while. Probably gave my mom some much needed peace and quiet. I've just started to give him some freedom, but it doesn't give me peace. There are so many parents who seem to be oblivious to the threats that are out there. These parents let their kids go everywhere, for long amounts of time, with no supervision. That's not my style. But, then we get into the "Everyone else can do it" syndrome. I don't let him ride his bike to 7-11. Even if it would be easier for me; he could go up and get a loaf of bread for me - it's only a mile away. But that 7-11 is on a main road. And everytime that I go there, I seem to see the shady characters. The homeless men, the construction workers, who I am probably making out to be worse than they really are.

He's made some friends in the neighborhood, and they seem to be good kids. But, 6 or 8 kids hanging around in the street is still 6 or 8 kids. I've tried to open the house and backyard - I've bought kool-aid and extra cookies (the good ones, not the cheap ones), and popsicles are on the list. We've got a huge backyard, and it's full of soccer goals, basketball hoops, a huge sandbox and swingset. We've got a volleyball net, badminton, tennis rackets, bikes, scooters, rollerblades, bubbles, chalk, jump ropes, footballs. Eveything that I can buy to make it more kid friendly. I'd rather them be here than on the street.

But, the other parents, except for one family, don't seem to care where the kids are. As long as they aren't at their own houses. When I tell the kids it's time to come in, for dinner and showers, it's usually about 7 p.m. The other kids don't go home, they just move to the street. Or a front yard. Even in the dark. And it bugs my kids that they can't go back out.

But the world isn't what it was. And that scares me, and bothers me. So, I'll be the hard ass and keep my kids with me. Even my almost grown up son.

It's an exercise in patience

It's an exercise in patience

Oh, man. Every morning, I have to "do" child #3's hair. She's not fussy - she doesn't care if it's in a ponytail, two, braids, or in a hairband. Her hair is long too - almost to her waist - so it's kind of fun to play with. I used to have long hair, back a few kids, and I do miss being able to mess around with it. (note: that's all I miss - I won't be growing my hair anytime soon.) No, the patience lies in the fact that she seems to be incapable of being still. While I am brushing it, her head looks to the left, the right, up, down. At first I am patient. I just turn her head back and move on. But, she's kneeling in front of me, and I soon discover that I've had to move all the way forward in the chair to keep my hands on her head. Then I find my arms stretched to their limits. Then she starts to wiggle. And my patience snaps. Every morning, it's the same showing of the same movie. It makes me (almost) want to cut her hair again. Almost.

Mondays Monday always translates into

Mondays

Monday always translates into work. I try not to do too much on Sunday, just enough to get by. But, man, do I pay for it on Monday. It's my first of two wash days, and that means 8 or so loads. Not to mention cleaning up the junk that everyone threw around the day before, cuz we were so lazy. Reading the Sunday paper and clipping the coupons takes some of the time too. I also cleaned out my van, and rearranged car seats. THAT job took just about an hour to accomplish. As an average, each person had ten items in the van. So, at least 80 things - and that was just in the front seats. We also needed to change the seating arrangement, and after spending two nights obsessing about it, I finally came up with what I hope will be a workable solution. Child #2 can't sit next to #3 or #4, and #5 needs to be with either #2 or #4, but not #3. #3 and #4 can't sit directly behind any others, as they like to kick out. It helps if #6 can see any other child. Etc, Etc.

I have my changing table top on the folding counter in my laundry room. I put the baby down on it, changed her dipe, and then left her there (buckled in!) and turned around to changeover the laundry. When I turned back to her, she was sound asleep. I thought, since she was buckled in, I'd let her stay for a while - she usually doesn't sleep that long. Well, today she went for FOUR hours. On the changing table. I've gotta try that one again, just to see if it was a fluke.

Things NOT to do when

Things NOT to do when you come home to a stay at home mom
(these are notes to the young guys (and some girls) who read this blog - you know who you are - and maybe to those guys who aren't so young, but need a brush up on the correct way to be......)

Disappear into the bathroom for a 30 minute break - if it takes that long, try again later
Open up the cabinets and peer into them for food, and then ask said mom to make you some food
Turn on the TV and flip channels
Ask "Why is this laundry always here?"
Ask "Where are my jeans/shoes/glasses/books?" Um, if they are yours, KEEP TRACK OF 'EM!
Ask if you can take a nap, since you have worked soooo hard
Ask why there is so much stuff laying around
Ask if said mom did the things you asked of her - the errands or chores
Ask anything
Pick a fight
Complain about the brand of soap, toilet paper, dinner menu
Complain about said mom's computer usage

Instead of those, certainly annoying activities, try substituting these:
Grab a basket of clean laundry and put it away
Wipe down the bathroom
offer to help with dinner
offer to make dinner
offer to buy dinner
take the other members of the family out of the house
Move the clean wash into the dryer
Change a diaper
Rub said mom's shoulders
pour her a drink - even water

In short, be a help, not another chore waiting to happen.

(not directed at anyone in particular, just musings off the top of my head, after a conversation with a girlfriend.)

Still here I'm still around.

Still here

I'm still around. Not much to post, not much to say. I've been kind of in a funk lately, and I'm not sure why. I've had a couple of really rough days, so it's been hard to get back in the swing of things. Sometimes it feels like I'm bailing a leaky boat in the middle of the ocean, while it's raining. Case in point: Laundry. It's recently come to my attention that it.will.never.ever.ever.be.finished. Even when I think it's done, for a day or two. Unless everyone is going to give up getting dressed for school, those baskets will be filled again. I did take a day this spring break to clean out dressers and closets, and we got rid of a bunch of clothing. There is no reason in hell that a six year old needs 11 pairs of jeans. At least, not one that I can figure out.
I took the kids and went over to a good friends house. She has 6 kids as well, the same ages as my kids. She lives on the other side of town from me, so we don't get together too often. Our kids go to school together, though, so we meet in the parking lot periodically. I invited her daughter to spend the night, and she asked us to come early for lunch before we picked her up. I was really glad to have the invitation. I am a very social person. I need to have lots of adult conversation; I thrive on it. My oldest son was upset that we had to go - he didn't want to be away from his friends at the house. I felt selfish, wanting to go, just so I could have have some conversation. But, I needed it, for my mental health.

At book club this week, a conversation came up about siblings getting along, and one woman said that her kids get along very well. She credits that to staying home with them as a family when they were small. Not going to meetings, book clubs and playgroups, but letting them learn to play together. Maybe that's where I made a mistake. But, at the time, I felt that playgroups were not such much for them as for me. I needed, and still do, to get out of the house on a daily basis. I felt very attacked in this conversation - as if I had done my kids a disservice by taking them out to playgroups. Then I got mad. My mental health is *really* important to how well I can do this for-all-intents-and-purposes single parenting. So, my kids fight.

Humility is so elusive,

Humility is so elusive, as soon as we think we have some, we are proud of it.

Isn't that the truth?

Early morning migraine I

Early morning migraine

I feel it coming on, I swear I do. This has been an exceptionally rough morning, and it's only, what, 8:30? Gabe was up at 6 and beloved hubster took him out to play soccer, along with Energizer bunny child who never sleeps. (Mackenzie) Good for me, bad for the neighbors. Ah, well.
No, the headache comes from Nikolas and Allegra. I've never met kids in my life who fight.so.@#*$.much!! Well, no, I backtrack. ALL my big kids fight too much. Mackenzie and Allegra think that, since I apparently don't discipline the others quite to their liking, they will dispense what they feel to be appropriate justice. They pinch, they hit, they pull the offender by the arms or hair or whatever they can reach. Then the injured cries out to me - whine, whine. Does it make me a bad mom to say that I can't STAND all this whining? In fact, Gabe was complaining, "Mackenzie won't get out of my roooooooom - and she hit me!!" My response was, apparently, less than nice - "G, could you whine ANY more?" Hubster was shocked. "What happened to the relaxed, patient mother?" Um, it's called The Spring Break of Rain, and too much togetherness.
Nikolas wants to play with Emma, and since Allegra has a friend over, she is determined to undermine all her brother does. To make him look bad, doncha know. Add in one preverbal toddler, whose method of communication is to scream, and you've got a winning day planned here.

Well, apparently they've learned the whining from me.

Rain, rain, go away.... Look,

Rain, rain, go away....

Look, I know that our area is overdue for some rain. I certainly can appreciate the fact that, having just gotten out of a drought, we don't want to be working ourselves into another. But, geez, my kids have 10 days off school for Easter Break, and it won't stop raining until the last two days. 8 straight days of rain. And 6 kids stuck in the house. And a son and daughter who did something so monumentally stupid that they are technology grounded for a week - no computer, no gamecube, etc.

I need a bourbon.