Tag: frustration

bad day, children, mommyhood

Know Better

WFAM

I’m having a casual conversation with parents that I don’t know very well. This is the point where you let slip some of your parental foibles and see precisely where they land on the recipients’ spectrum of normalcy. For instance, they might self-diclose that their children are impeccably behaved when dropped off at a friend’s home, and you might imply that you fear for your friends when you do the same. You are using humor to illuminate that while your kids are incredibly adorable, they may be less than perfect in decorum or behavior. Your hope is that the other parents will admit the same for their kids (at least a little). Let me tell you it’s a real bummer when you are the only one sharing a horror story and the faces meeting your gaze are blank with incomprehension. It also doesn’t help when you hear the phrase, “My kids would know better than to act up,” or “my kids were taught better than that,” in response to said horror story.

I self-disclosed that Full Speed had an unfortunate use of words when referencing his visiting cousins a while back. “Do you have any problems with bad language from your kids?” is my curious inquiry.

“My kids know better than to use a bad word, and they were taught better than that,” is the response.

Are you getting the same feeling I had? That the implication is that my kids don’t know better and certainly weren’t taught better.

I would try to draw the same conclusion but apparently I don’t know any better.

children, marital blissishness, parenting

The Agreement

WFAM

In the middle of the night Mad Dog and I have the tacit agreement that he is the one who rises with the boys. Within a partnership you have all sorts of agreements to help you figure out who does what. This has worked out fairly well for us. Since I’m mostly in charge of the boys during the day, Mad Dog pitches in by answering their random calls at night. Of course this agreement has emerged over time. Initially, when they were newborns, I was on 24 hour duty because of breastfeeding (which I disliked with extreme intensity; not all the time, just 92% of the time).

Mad Dog is one of those enviable sleepers. He falls asleep seemingly instantaneously and manages to remain deeply asleep through almost anything. I, on the other hand, battle insomnia, the occasional night terror and am clearly a general mess when it comes to sleeping. That’s why it helps tremendously when Mad Dog gets up with the boys instead of me. For me the process of getting out of bed, walking around and becoming fully alert completely messes with my already neurotic sleeping patterns. For Mad Dog it’s a small trip and then he is back in bed quick to slumber.

Another agreement we have is to sleep with our window open (this is Mad Dog’s absolute preference and I mostly don’t mind). So, the other night, I am laying awake listening to a sleeping Mad Dog’s even, peaceful breathing and I am about to doze myself when our window-shade is caught by a sharp breeze and slams against our wall. We both are jolted completely awake. I’m frustrated because I had been listening to the incessant tap, tap, tapping of the shade against the wall for what seemed like hours. I had wanted to shut the window before but knew per our open-window agreement, I could not.

“Could you please shut the window?” I ask in a curt tone. I know for Mad Dog to get up in the chilly room won’t prevent him from returning quickly to a snoozing state. He doesn’t see it that way and we proceed to have an ugly verbal exchange. Soon, I have leapt from the bed and storm over to the shade, slam the window down and return to bed in a huff. Slumber then eluded me for several hours more.

In the light of day, I apologized to Mad Dog for my midnight rant but said I didn’t understand why he was so hostile. He said he couldn’t believe I would actually wake him up to shut the window. He understands he is supposed to get up with the boys but waking him to shut a window was a bit extreme on my part. I tried to explain that it was the wind and the noisy shade that woke him. I still don’t think he believes me. No matter how many ‘agreements’ you have within a marriage, you still are going to find that you disagree.

children, life in pictures, mommyhood

Split Personality

WFAM

The boys had their Tae Kwon Do testing last night. They did spectacular. Full Speed’s focus was laser sharp and he was very loud (this is thought to be good in the land of Tae Kwon Do). Even T.Puzzle impressed the audience with how far he has come in six months (i.e.- he no longer screams and cries for twenty minutes at the beginning of every class). He executed punches and kicks well and even semi-shouted ‘yes, sir’. Usually you can barely here his tiny voice among his classmates. Full Speed legitimately broke his board and little T.Puzzle broke his too (with a smidge help from the instructor). Overall, I was pleased as punch with their remarkable display of self-control, discipline and mastery of the Tae Kwon Do curriculum.

I’m just thankful I’m not on a reality show followed by cameras 24/7. Not fifteen minutes before their great performance was set to start, Full Speed was sassing me because I had picked him up ‘too early’ from school. Huh? I guess he was angry that he didn’t have time to play with his friends outside. He then turned this anger on his little brother and began to alternately kick and hit him. Once I had the two now very unhappy boys strapped in the truck they begin to verbally fight over what rank they are. T.Puzzle kept taunting his older brother by insisting that Full Speed was only going to test for a white belt. This upset an already angry Full Speed who melted down in tears. I had to give one of my big ‘Mommy is Disappointed in your Attitude’ speeches that went on and on and looped this way and that eventually losing any trace of logic. It worked though, at least for Full Speed. He said he wanted a hug before we went inside. Once inside in the tiny torture chamber, oops, I mean tiny changing room, T.Puzzle decides this is the perfect time to tackle his Mommy over and over. He keeps coming at me from the left and then the right. He is relentless.

At this point I say a Hail Mary and do my best to refrain from saying what I really want to (yeah, I’ll admit, some of my thinking was angrily profane) and do my best to regain control of the situation. My hair is a tousled (not in a sexy way) mess, I’m sweating profusely and I’m squeezing my eyes shut so frustrated tears cannot escape.

How is it then, that behind closed doors me and my children are falling apart at the seams but to the world we can present a unified and even dignified front? ‘Why, why?’ asks the woman with the obvious split personality.

health, self care (or lack thereof)

Ocean Drive

WFAM

p2142575So, at five-thirty this a.m. I find myself awakened to a swollen throat. The right side of my neck is throbbing and my right ear is aching like a son of a gun. I realize with dread that this is the day I have to seek medical attention.

First, Full Speed is off to school and then secondly, I have to stop for my allergy shots (I’m so close to maintenance shots which means less future trips to the allergist that I cannot skip). From there I will head to the Minute Clinic at CVS pharmacy. Of course T.Puzzle must accompany me on both of these glorious outings (let the record reflect my sarcasm).

The allergy shots went fine if you think getting poked with a sharp needle three times is fine (which I do not). I think T.Puzzle may have overdosed on Cheerios and Goldfish (the crackers, not the actual fish in the office aquarium) while we waited. I didn’t mind because he was quietly content.

I called Mad Dog and asked him to get directions to the Minute Clinic from the allergy office and text them to me. He did and I sent him a quick text of ‘thanks’.

I think I am delirious. I didn’t trust the directions and felt I knew what I was doing. I went the wrong way for a long, long time. I pull over because I am sensing we are getting close to the ocean which isn’t good unless of course you want to go to the ocean (which I do not). I call Mad Dog and he tells me immediately where I made my mistake and how to correct it. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been sick all week or if I am fed up that I’ve been sick all week, but I didn’t handle this suggested course correction well. Okay, I flippin’ lose it. Don’t worry, Mad Dog has heard worse from me but it doesn’t make it right. We end our conversation and tears are streaming down my frustrated face.

I turn around and I finally stumble upon the Clinic. T.Puzzle and I enter and then wait to check-in at the kiosk. I kid you not; the man in front of us took FOREVER to sign in. I don’t know what he was doing but it took an enormous amount of willpower not to yank the touch-screen stylus from his hand and enter his information for him (as a side note, it took me less than two minutes to sign in and I was holding a squirming, thirty-five pound, two year old).

We wait our turn and I bring out the DVD player for T.Puzzle. That is something I rarely do. Believe me I have weathered enough outings, doctor’s appointments, ophthalmology visits without resorting to digital entertainment for my kids. Today is the exception because I feel like crap. The woman next to me makes some snotty comment about ‘kids today’ and how they need computerized stuff to be entertained and that they don’t know how to exist without it. I felt too crappy to argue but it really cheesed me off.

To add insult to injury when I finally see the nurse practitioner she says there isn’t a darn thing she can do to alleviate my misery. Basically, I had a nasty virus and my body is fighting it off the best it can, hence the enormous, painful swelling of my glands in my neck. The swelling is what is making my throat hurt and probably causing the earache, too.

I realize I should be thankful that it hasn’t manifested into a nasty bacterial infection in my sinuses, ears or throat (which is what normally happens). However, I was hoping for something, anything to make me feel better. Only time can heal all wounds and apparently viruses, too.