Well the first days of school have come and gone…and with them has gone my sense of *I’m doing the right thing* I felt about sending my kids to public school. I suppose as a parent I tried to convince myself that sending my children to daycare in a cage was a great idea…it was the norm, it was the right thing, it was healthy, it was social. Sure along the way they make some friends, even sometimes a nice friend; and they may learn a few things here and there. But in the end, is it really the correct decision? The jury is still out on that one folks.
With kindergarten registration I was asked to present my daughters vaccination card, which is not fully completed. Not because I forgot to get it stamped, but because we have chosen to forgo the last round of vaccines. Why? Well anyone who has read the news knows of the huge world wide debate on whether or not vaccines are safe. Sure, I see the reasoning behind it…ideally a vaccine would help prevent disease. However, if that vaccine is filled with poisons that may harm my child in any way, shouldn’t I be allowed to say “no thank you”? Or at the very least be able to do the research on my own and make an informed decision? With so many sides of the story, I’m not in any hurry to make that decision just yet. There is just too much unknown and just too much evidence supporting the theory that vaccines cause harm and even death.
So I wrote a paper saying *no thanks*, we will not be vaccinating this year. But my paper wasn’t good enough. They wanted me to sign a State of Idaho paper. Upon reading the above mentioned form, I had to read it again…and then again…and then again. After a few reads, I realized was I would basically be signing was a statement that said “I’m a bad parent, I may be causing my child’s death, I believe vaccines are good and necessary, but I won’t be getting them because I’m purposefully endangering the life of my child”. Are you serious?? Why would I sign a form that would cause my judgment and parenting skills to be questioned and basically go against everything I believed and my reasoning for saying *no thank you* to vaccination? So, I have politely declined signed the form. Thus far, my daughter has been able to attend kindergarten. I wonder how long it will be before someone realizes that form is not in a file marked “Jane Doe, daughter of bad parents”? For now its *no thank you* to vaccines and a big fat *no thank you* to signing my own death warrant.
Back to my rant about public vs. home school…I was happy and excited to be sending my children off to school. Finally some much needed mom time with no kids fighting, yelling, crying or needing. I felt this way up until the night before the big day. Then I began having my doubts and crying about sending my baby off to kindergarten. I tried to reason with myself saying she’s too young, she needs another year in preschool, she’ll get hurt or picked on, etc. But like a good mommy drone, I got them off to school on time and dressed in their best. I tried hard to be excited as I walked my daughter through the masses of screaming hyenas. I tried even harder to be excited as I looked around the fenced play yard and felt like we were trapped animals in a cage full of maniacs. I tried harder still as I left my daughter with strangers and harder still on my way home to solitude. After school as I waited in the bus line with my daughter to make sure she got on the correct bus for the first time, as we stood in the 98 degree heat for 25 minutes waiting for the bus driver to arrive, I was trying so hard to be excited I nearly popped a blood vessel. And I realized, I’m not excited. I’m not excited about sending my children into a place where they are away from the love and protection and guidance of their family, where they learn to cuss and backtalk and forget manners and play with children who think is okay to smoke and start fires and lie and on and on and on. No, of course I’m not saying all children are bad, nor am I saying all schools are bad. What I’m saying is…my children don’t need a daycare. My children need the love and guidance of their parents, while getting a good, solid eduction and also while meeting smart, well-rounded children who are an intellectual challenge and who do have manners and who do know right from wrong.
Do my children enjoy school? Of course my son does. He gets to play with kids we don’t approve of and he doesn’t have to listen to me for 7 hours out of the day. As for my daughter, I’m not sure yet if she likes it or not. And I don’t quite know what the answers are. They need a good education, they need good friends and role models, but what they don’t need is all the bad that comes with it.
So who knows? I’m not sure what the best plan of attack is…but we’ll keep ya posted.
Considering my last post was nothing but a rant about my spoiled, bratty children; I thought I should write an update and pat myself on the back for being so smart and *in tune* with my children. Okay, maybe that is going a bit far, but I am pleased with the turn of events that have happened in my home over the past couple of months.
After much trial and error, blood, sweat and tears, I discovered the origin of my daughter’s horrible temperament. What it all boils down to is….boredom and lack of sleep. That’s it! I suppose I’ve always known that bored children get cranky and irritating and that tired children are whiny and bratty; but for some reason I didn’t link those two things to my daughter’s outbursts and moodiness. How could she be bored? She has 2 older brothers to play with. She goes to bed at 8pm and gets up at 8am, so certainly it couldn’t be sleep deprivation, right? WRONG! She doesn’t have any little play friends to share her secrets with, play dress-up or Barbies with; she needs a little girl to be a girl with. And because she is bored and doesn’t play hard throughout the day, her sleep is restless and she wakes up tired.
So…my solution to all of this madness is quite ingenious. I put out an ad for play-dates and searched the paper for activities for her. I’ve taken her hiking and swimming and biking and made sure she is stimulated and exercised every day. This has helped her sleep become more restful and my once demon-child has now returned as my lil angel! Oh how I’ve missed her! We haven’t found any *girl friends* yet, but we’re working on it. And Kindergarten starts in a few weeks; she’s finally excited about that. So I’m hoping that she’ll meet some friends that live near by and she can play and have fun like all kids need to do. Being lonely is not so fun and not so healthy for a young mind.
And with that, I will stop patting my own back and try to come up with a solution for cleansing my 17 year old son’s mouth; for it is a very dirty dirty mouth that would make a trucker blush. He doesn’t think twice about cursing and cussing in front of his mom and more than once I’ve had to ask (much to my own dismay and horror), what on earth those words even mean! *Note to self: Never ask. You’ll be sorry when you hear the answer. Shame on those darn boys! I keep threatening with a bar of soap and telling him to read the bible if he needs a lesson in a million and one clean words to say; but alas he is determined to shock me and see if my crimson coloring can get any brighter. Each day to my surprise and his, my face can get a deeper shade of red.
We all get to that point in our parenting lives where we wonder where we went wrong. What did we do to turn our precious little adorable, cooing, drooling babies into screaming, crying, fit-throwing, spitting, psycho brats from hell. We’ve all been in a store or restaurant and seen a misbehaving child and given the mother that look of “great parenting job”. Well I am now that mother who gets the disapproving looks of other parents and shakes of the head and the “tisk tisk”. I am now the proud owner of a spoiled rotten, fit-throwing, little brat 4 year old girl.
So where did I go wrong? What happened between age 4 1/2 and almost 5? Sure, she’s always been spoiled and coddled, but for the most part she’s been a good girl. I’ve really enjoyed having my first daughter and have loved every minute of the shopping, nail painting, hair fixing, dress-up part of it. Until recently when I realized she is out of control, she is the new anti-Christ….and who can I blame? That sad stigma of over-spoiling now falls on my shoulders, I have no one to blame but myself. Unfortunately, I love too much, spoil too much, am too soft, hate punishing, and try to compensate for for my shortcomings (and the shortcomings of the other parenting half of this duo) by coddling. I know, shame on me for adding another lazy, crying brat to the mix of countless lazy, crying, societal misfits.
My children are good children, they have just realized that they can ignore me and not do chores and whine and beg and get their way. They have become the master manipulators, the puppeteers. They know right from wrong and have nice manners, but some where they missed the point about working hard without complaining, doing a job right the first time, and that crying, whining, screaming, hitting and fit throwing does not a happy camper make.
We breezed through the “terrible 2’s”, no problems. I had this misconception that once that was over, I wouldn’t have to worry about brattiness. Wow, was I wrong. “Terrible 2’s” aint got nothin’ on the 4’s! I’m embarrassed to take her out in public, I dread taking her any where for fear I will finally lose my temper and give her the ass-beating she so desperately cries for. When my children are not together, they are angels…perfect, well-behaved little angels who bring many compliments from strangers. However, get 2 or more of them together and all hell breaks loose. So what is it about my precious daughter that goes into psychosis when her brothers are around? Is is that they torture her mercilessly? Is it that she has to share my attention with someone? Or is it that I have less patience when they are all together driving me insane than having one on one? Whatever the reason may be, although we have been on summer vacation less than one week, I am counting down the days until school resumes. I have 10 more gray hairs and a dozen new ulcers that my fighting, crying brats have induced in the last week. I count the minutes until bedtime each night and dread the coming dawn when a new set of issues will arise.
And then…I look back at old photos and sob my heart out. I see my beautiful little angels with their bright innocent eyes and their glowing chubby cheeks…and I feel so guilty and sad. I don’t want to look back on this time as an unhappy time where I am constantly grouchy and yelling. I want to enjoy this time in their youth before the innocence is gone and they become unruly teens.
And then…as I sit here, I hear them outside screaming at each other like death is coming, and cringe as I think of my poor neighbors and what they must think of our constant barrage of screams. And realize that though I love them with all my soul, they are over due for a beating. And so…with that in mind, I am off to punish and maim and count down the hours until bedtime.
**No, I don’t really beat them…but maybe I should start?
Over the weekend my children and I visited beautiful Hailey, Idaho. My sister lives there and our children love to play while we visit, cook and catch up. The weather was perfect, the kids were wonderful, and we had a fabulous time. Its always nice to visit my sisters and talk about things only a sister understands. I have been blessed with the two best sisters in the world, and I hope our children stay close as they grow up.
While in Hailey, we decided to walk to the river after we put the kids in bed. It was a beautiful evening and the river is just minutes away from my sisters house. We hadn’t gone far when I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. I thought it was a horse until I saw it moving quickly towards me. As I looked, I saw a huge moose coming at us. I told my sister and just as she spotted the moose, its mate emerged from the trees and started coming at us as well. Had we not noticed them, we would have found ourselves right in the middle of the two lovebirds. We all know how “friendly” moose are, so we turned and decided to go back the way we came as quickly and quietly as we could. Luckily a neighborhood dog with a bark like a lion helped deter the moose and they turned the other way. Not distracted from our want of a walk to the river, we turned back around and cautiously went toward the river.
As we got to the river, I was awed by its swiftness and the incredible view. The river ran along the mountain and the site was just amazing. How lucky to have this in your backyard! Not far ahead we saw a blazer with its hood up and doors open, appearing to be stuck on the way up a mountain trail. We decided to offer our help or at least a cell phone. When we were about 50 yards from the truck, a man stepped out and started shooting toward the mountain. Not one shot, not two and not aiming. He got off probably 6 shots in random direction before we decided we did not need to offer our services and we did not need to go any further. We turned and headed home. We hadn’t walked 10 feet before the blazer (apparently not stuck) came down the mountain and up the road, driving slowly and waving as they passed. They stopped and parked at the mouth of the road, popped the hood, opened the doors and a man stepped out…appearing to be working on the still running vehicle.
We had no other way of getting home but to pass the blazer. I have a bad knee and knew I could not run if I had to save my life. So my brave sister picked up two big rocks, stuck them in her pocket and assured me she’d take out a couple before she ran for help…haha We joked and giggled to help ease our nerves as we confidently walked toward impending doom.
As we neared the blazer, a car was driving up the road. Surely no one would dare be so brazen as to kill us in front of witnesses, right? We kept on strolling and didn’t look back, clutching our rocks and sucking wind. We heard the blazer take off in the opposite direction and breathed a sigh of relief as we slowed our pace and started to laugh. What else could we do? We both agreed it had been the best walk ever! Thrills and chills to boost our heart rates, clean fresh mountain air, and sisters who love to giggle in the midst of adventure.
Thanks sis for picking up the rocks. I know you would have saved my life before running home for help. I promise to return the favor if ever we meet a bear (it’ll be your turn to be unable to run), and hopefully a couple big rocks will do the trick.
I try hard to teach my children morals, respect, kindness, manners, etc. Do unto others and all that. They know please and thank you, excuse me, may I please and so on. Learning right from wrong is very important to us as parents, and we take on the task of teaching them appropriate values with a direct approach and some times a firm hand. So when they do something wrong, as all children must do to challenge borders and authority, we feel like we failed or maybe weren’t as stringent on teaching as we’d hoped.
A couple of weeks ago my 8 year old was over visiting his grandparents. He loves helping Grandpa fix things and make projects. When he came home and proudly showed me 2 beautiful brass hinges, I didn’t question. I said, “Grampa gave you these? Wow, they are beautiful!” He gave me his big smile and bright eyes and said yes, he was allowed to take them. Weren’t they neat? And I didn’t think anything else about it.
A week went by and my mother called to inquire about the above mentioned hinges. Had I seen them any where? Dad has been looking all over for them, as they are for a table project he is trying to finish. A little nagging voice was whispering in the back of my mind…hinges? Hinges? Why does that ring a bell? ALEX!! I told her I would talk to Alex about it and call her back.
My sweet, dear little angel of a boy again insisted Grampa told him he could take them home; but this time he wasn’t quite as insistent and his smile of pride was replaced with his mischievous grin and averted eyes. You little liar pants!! I suppose if you’re like me, a big softie who hates punishing her angels, you feel your heart sink and you feel responsible for not teaching them well enough. You feel embarrassed and sorry and you know you have to punish them or they won’t learn and if they don’t learn they’ll wind up homeless or in prison or hooked on crack.
Here is the reason children need both parents in the home:
My response/punishment: I looked him directly in the eyes and he told me the truth and boy, was he ever sorry. Of course he knows how to melt my heart with that smile and those eyes, oh those eyes!! (He gets that look from his father who knows just how to melt me and get what he wants too! Shame on you both!) Of course he was going to give them back and of course he was ever so sorry and he would call Grampa and tell him how sorry and he even went in and wrote the most adorable apology letter. He felt better, I felt better, and of course Grampa wasn’t mad at all. Boys will be boys and curiosity and all that. Later that day I told his dad about the incident and the punishment and the little angel’s letter and boy didn’t I handle that so great? Well dad didn’t think I handled it so great. He stole, and worse from his Grandfather!? And lied about it?! And all you made him do was apologize?! How is ever going to learn what he does wrong if you are so soft with him all the time?! Do you know what my parents would have done to me if I got caught stealing? And I lied?! I don’t even want to think what would have happened!
Dad’s response/punishment: First with the yelling and the shame on you, that’s your Grandfather and don’t you know stealing and lying are wrong? If this is how you’re going to act, you better find some new friends. You’re a good boy and too smart to be thieving and lying. My parents would have killed me if I would have done something like that! You’re grounded in your room for a whole week. No electronics, no friends, nothing for a week.
This is where I had to interject. I agreed with the punishment, I knew I was too soft on him. If he’s going to do the crime, he has to do the time and so on. But its hard for me to punish my angels, for they are my babies and I just love to hold them and….well yeah, coddle them. BUT! His grounding started on Spring Break and that would be punishing me as well, so sorry that’s a no go big daddy. After much begging and pleading and deliberation, dad decided grounding could start the week after Spring Break, cause you’re lucky your mom’s so soft.
So grounding began this week. I have to say, he’s taken it like a man. He’s done great…it is I who have begged dad to please let him off early for good behavior; please can he play outside, its so nice; and why are you such a hardass? He’s been good, he learned his lesson, can’t he just be done now? But nope, dad is smart, and firm, and great at sticking to the deal. Dad knows that without proper guidance and sticking to what you say, our children will in fact wind up homeless or in prison or hooked on crack.
So my angel gets out of jail free tomorrow. He is a smart little jailbird. His father offered him $5 for every “E” on his report card, which happened to come home on Wednesday. The little jailbird earned $10 and bartered with his father…$10 for 1 day off grounding…and that, Dad thought was a great deal. My little jailbird not only received his first “E”’s for the year (basically an A, with all his other grades being -A to B), he pulled up all of his grades. My little jailbird angel is smart…so smart I bet next time he’ll just try harder not to get caught.
And that is why children need both parents in the home. Mothers to hug them and hold them and call them angel and soothe the owies, and to remind them that life can be grand. And Fathers to hold fast to their punishments for doing bad things, else they wind up homeless or in prison or hooked on crack.
If you are ever in need of a great, psychological thriller to watch; I recommend “Mr. Brooks” (2007). Great cast starring Kevin Costner, Demi Moore, Dane Cook and more.
Brilliant story line, abundance of thrills n’ chills. All around excellent movie.
Genre: Crime/Mystery/Drama/Thriller
Plot summary: A psychological thriller about a man who is sometimes controlled by his murder-and-mayhem-loving alter ego.
I realized I haven’t written anything since my “shitties” post. And that is because I have been faced with a long line of shitties in the preceding weeks. 2008 is definitely shaping up to be a most spectacular case of the shits. It is my hope that with the spring will come a new found hope for happiness in the remaining months of this year.
My beloved of ten years (yes, we made it past the 7 year itch only to find a curve ball waiting in year 10) told me Sunday March 16 that he didn’t think he loved me or our family life any more. And thought he needed a new life, new job and a break from me. In the almost 5 months preceding that moment, my husband has been strange…a bit off you might say. We returned from a fabulous trip to New York the end of October, and beginning in November he was just not himself. I am a reader of feelings and I begged my beloved to tell me what was bothering him and what I could do to help him. He insisted it was not me, that he just had a case of the blues…and not to worry. The months continued on and he grew even more distant. Our 3-4/week intimate sessions (haha! I said that ever so tactfully!) became nonexistent all together; as did the warm embraces, I-love-you’s, and feelings of security. Again I begged for an explanation or reassurance. And again my beloved said it was not me, he was blue and not to worry.
Well I am a woman, and of course I take it personally. And with a pretty much non-existent self esteem, my self doubt, confusion and misery grew. I need love and attention and affection…as a woman, I thrive on it. To feel loved and needed and secure is the backbone of being a woman. Finally I could not take it any more. The negative downpour had to be resolved before my sanity slipped through the floor cracks.
I lay on the bed watching my handsome beloved stretch and groom in the bathroom mirror. I didn’t quite know how to approach the subject, as I had been rebuffed so many times in the last months. Opening remarks and one-liners swam through my head, but in the end I decided upfront directness was the best approach. And I asked him, “Are you happy being married?”
In my mind his 10 year running response would be (and it was), “Of course I am, why?”
Then I regurgitated the past months negative downpour, the lack of love and excitement, and the feeling of unrest that had settled over our home. And asked, “Don’t you love us any more?”
Maybe I should have had a premonition of impending doom, or a woman’s instinct of harm…but I didn’t. I assumed he would say what he always says…that of course he loved me, of course he was happy, our family was most important. But that is not what he said.
I watched as his shoulders slumped and the twinkle in his eye that I love so much went out like a light. His face showed dread and concern and his words seemed to pain him as he said, “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so what? That you don’t love us any more?”
“Yeah. I don’t think so, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you love me any more?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to be married?”
“I don’t know.”
How do you mend a broken heart? For mine literally broke at that very moment. For the past ten years, I have given this man all of me. Blood, sweat and tears have all flowed in to this marriage. Being a wife and mother to his children has been the pride and joy of my existence. I’ve never been more in love in my life and never felt such utter joy at being loved. He swept me away from my private hell and into a world of travel and romance that would parallel even the best novels and mag articles! My heart truly broke…and I stopped living for a moment. Shock and misunderstanding rocked me, and I couldn’t breathe.
To make a long, drawn out and emotional day short, he asked for a “short term separation” to get his head and thoughts together, to figure out how he felt and what he wanted. When I agreed and asked who was moving out, he said no one is leaving just yet; he didn’t know what he wanted, or what he wanted to do. By this point I was exhausted and angry and empty and told him I was packing my shit and leaving and he would have plenty of time and space to figure it out. I assured him the kids would be fine, he could see them whenever, and I wanted nothing from him.
Maybe it was the finality of it all, saying it out loud that snapped him back to the here and now. He came to me and held me and said he loved me, he loved our life together, he loved our family, and he didn’t want me to leave. He was depressed and now 30 and mid-life crisis and this and that and thought if he pushed me away I’d have a better life and on and on and on. Didn’t he see I loved him? Hadn’t I given him all I had and shown him how much I loved him and needed and appreciated him? My confusion grew as he assured me he loved me and wanted to be together…he was just struggling with inner turmoil from work and stress and age….and did I mention my confusion grew?
The end result has been he insists he loves me and wants to be together forever. He’s sorry he said such mean things and can we just forget it and move on? He’s spent the last couple of weeks trying to be loving and give more attention….but the strain is still here hovering over our home like a fog. Things feel the same as they have the past almost 5 months now…uncertain, unsteady and strained. Though he now says “I love you” more and hugs and kisses, the negative vibe is still there starring me in the face. The intimate moments have not yet returned, and I still feel confused and lost. Do I believe he loves me? Of course I do…I’ve always known he loves me. But I guess some times love just isn’t enough. I don’t feel relieved now that he says it more and tries almost too hard to show he cares; I feel sad and lost and alone and empty. My heart is still aching from the rift that cut so deep it stopped beating for a few seconds.
How do you mend a broken heart when I feel he’s only here out of guilt for the children and not wanting to forge a new life because the old one is so safe and secure? How do I help him see how wonderful our life is together and how much I love him, when I can see in his blue eyes his yearning for the excitement of the road? How do let him go to find himself without losing myself in grief and agony and loss for the one I love forever?
How do I mend my broken heart without the love I need from the one who can’t seem to give it?
~Fix Me~
My heart is broken, and will not mend.
My heart is broken from the mixed messages you send.
Ours is a perfect love, that will never end.
Ours is a perfect love, sshhh…just let me pretend.
Fix me, for I feel broken and lost.
Fix me, I don’t care what the cost.
Love me as I have loved your for so long.
Love me, for it is the only thing that keeps me strong.
Hold me and make feel safe and warm.
Hold me, for I know we can weather the storm.
Tell me you love me, make me believe.
Tell me you love me, that you’ll never leave.
Tell me
Hold me
Love me
Fix me
Our perfect love
is broken
Have you ever noticed that when you have a shitty day (or week!), that its not just one shitty thing? It always has one or many traveling companions with it, waiting to make a single shitty thing in to the shitties. You sigh at the shitty thing and pull through it, but then another shitty thing follows in its footsteps. You sigh at that shitty thing and pull through it, but then yet another shitty thing follows in its footsteps. By that time you are frustrated, angry, tired, crabby, mad, sad, irritated, depressed, blue, lost, and empty and say, “NOT ONE MORE SHITTY THING PLEASE!!” but low and behold, you get yet ANOTHER shitty thing!!?? I say WTF!!?? Why isn’t just one shitty thing enough? But then I realize it could always be much much worse and I try to embrace all my shitty things and love them and say thank you shitty things for being the shitty things you are, and not bigger, worse shitty things; that would really be the shits…ya know?
**Sorry for all the “shit” talk. My shitty thing had many traveling companions this week, and it really was the shits!!
For the last year and a half, I have been running an eBay business. Great fun, great money and I get to work my own hours from home AND be my own boss!! What more could you ask for?! My kids have been great help and help with packing, shipping and making sure the packing peanuts are working properly!
