Wednesday, October 23

Tuesday: From Good To Bad and Back Again?

The last two weeks, have had that 'back to school' vibe for me. I know it's because there has been a welcomed lull in the appointment juggling, kid tending line up, and being able to actually stay home, for more than a few days in a row.

It feels so good…. it feels nice… it feels so normal.

This morning, I breathed deep the dark, comfy feeling, the house offered. I could have easily throw the words, "perfect start" out there without haste, I did flirt with them a bit subconsciously in my head.

I should know by now, how such complete acceptance of a momentary content feelings often just foreshadows a smug downward spiral.

It was so nice to have a moment to myself, things were quiet, things were calm, things changed, quick like...

Because then, the kids needed to be woken… then re-woken, woken up again, only to have had their rooms marched with threats flying, to be woken finally for this Tuesday.

Calvin's first fit of the day came from me saying, "hash brown and apple" for breakfast to him hearing, "muffins and bacon"…. expectations like that, are hard to come back from… commence freak out.

The boys fought over the shared space between the two sinks in the bathroom, resulting in elder son, smearing his used tooth brush on youngest son's face…. Calvin's second freak out, fits nicely right here… rightfully.

Keeping your own hands, in your own personal space, is apparently harder than you would think.

I was informed about a 'letter M & S show and tell" themed day, a heart beat moment after I stood in the kitchen with hands above my head yelling, "are the expectations of our morning routine so different from day to day, that I have to remind you to even!!"

I can yell loud.
Wesley rolled his eyes.
I woke the sleeping Beanie.
She was pissed.

I scurried to find not too big, not too small, kindergarten appropriate letter themed objects.
I realized I stuffed two 'M's into Calvin's book bag, not an 'M & S'
I'm not above letting the teacher assume this was the 5 year old's error.

The van's back buckle was locked and my aggressive throwing open of the driver's side door, not only didn't help the buckle unlatch, but caused a swing back force, quick enough to punch my knee.

I swore.
The boys exchanged looks.
Found common ground with each other.
They stifled giggles.

The air in the van, on the ride to school, was filled with my silent agitation.
Wesley scream "WATCH OUT! ….. That crow is up ahead in the road…."
In a jerked response to the panicked urgency of the first two words, I spilled my coffee on my lap and bit my tongue back, so I wouldn't bit his head off.

A sleepy, cranky, woken up, Josephine wouldn't move her feet, for Calvin to get out of the van.
She cried when the boys didn't kiss her good-bye.
She typically cries, because they do kiss her good-bye.

They didn't shut their doors after getting out.
I had no shoes on.
The ground has frost.

Right now, I'm on my last cup of coffee, only because the pot has poured the last of it's first brew.
I'm thinking about making another. 

Josephine, much like her Mumma, has had her crankiness taken care of with two helpings of Pumpkin Spiced English muffins {thank you Liz for turning us on to these}.
At least until lunch.

I have intentions of working out the kinks of the drastic turn of this day, but funneling it into productivity.

The back to school vibes has depleted.
We are very much into the throws. 
We are very much back into our normal. 

I have hopes that the yin of a good morning turned bad, has to be yanged by a rough start turned to smooth ending.
I'm an optimist like that.

Tuesday, October 15

Houston: We Have A Grounding.

I wouldn't consider myself 'the fun mom' but I'm fully confident when I say that the kids certainly got stuck with a set of parents who could easily be tossed into the 'kids at heart' category.

Nate's the first to initiate any food fights, I can't resist a good game of tag, and I don't know if there has been a slip and slide, we haven't used the authority of being an adult, to take the first runs down.

I may have a secret stash of glow sticks for bon fire nights and there is always a can of silly string for emergencies.

With that said, I think the kids could easily plead a strong case of having been stuck with a set of parents who could easily be tossed into the 'strict and stern' category.

Simply, we have rules and expectations of behavior for our kids, that involve respect, kindness, fair play, and manners.

I understand finding who you want to be is within the layers of the boundaries you push and I would be disappointed if the kids didn't feel it was important to challenge them. But I also understand my roll as a parents is being consistent with my follow through when these limits are inevitably crossed.

Which brings me to the point of this whole post: Wesley's current grounding.
This isn't his first rodeo with being grounded as punishment, but it is the exact same behavior that has gotten him thrown in this arena, every time.

Sneaking screen time.
Though this time around, I'm a bit conflicted, because he was sneaking …… reading.
That's right, he was hiding under his blankets, reading a book, "he just can't stop {himself} from reading, because it's so good."

If I said I was unhappy I had a kid who snuck book time, that would be a lie. The fact that he loves to read, thrills me.

BUT, I saw him grab the kindle from my night stand, knew the weekend had already been full of late nights and told him it was too late for reading, sleep was the name of the game. I knew he was going to read, the minute he descended the stairs to his room… 10 year olds are predictable like that… and he did…

This is his 4th offense of hiding under his covers in his room, sneaking whatever screen he is able to get away with lighting up… he's a tech addict… I get it… I support it… I allow plenty of it to be indulged in throughout the day time hours… but the guidelines were set… I told him no… he chose to do it anyways… my hands were tied… my follow through was necessary.

And for the next 5 days, this is what I'm left with ….

 photo IMG_7977_zps25d0326d.jpg

A 10 year old, sprawling himself across any area, I'm occupying, heavily sighing, dramatically declaring his unhappiness and boredom for life in general.

You would think, giving him this gift of time, would be more appreciated than it is... seeing as he has all the time in the world to burry himself in that 'must read' of his…

Apparently, reading isn't as appealing to him unless it's taboo, so he's got another day worth of wallow, then I'll have to address this as well with chore delegations, which he'll hate even more…

but being grounded isn't suppose to be fun and what I feel is good parenting, not always fun.

Sunday, October 6

Friday's Last{!!} Chemo Weak

Friday afternoon, I lay in bed, looking at the remote just half a stretch across the bed from me. I really didn't want to watch TV, but it just seemed liked it should be on for some reason.

Maybe I thought the house was too quiet, maybe I thought its distraction would perk my spirit, maybe it's because I felt like I needed to do something and this was all I felt I could muster.

Though I don't know what my motivation was for turning on the TV, I do know, I was offended by the effort that stupid remote, was asking me to make, simply to get to it.

I had a flash of thought about crying…. over a remote… that I didn't even want….

I'd like to say I recognized the craziness in this situation, snapped out of my melodramatic state of mind, hopped right up, popped that TV screen on, and indulged freely into the mindlessness of all that day time TV has to offer, while laughing at my previous self, through mouthfuls of extra salted popcorn.

I'd like to say this… but I can't… unfortunately, I continued to lay there… glaring at the remote, making no attempt to stop the negative thoughts from snowballing into more…

And let me tell you, those thoughts snowballed… avalanche style.

I beat myself up for committing to so much in life…
I laughed at the ignorance of everyone who thought I was strong enough to handle this life's challenge…
I wallowed in my inability to mind over matter 'it', this time around…
I brought to the surface, every disappointment I've felt in others...
I brought to the surface, every disappointment I've felt in myself...
I resented the thought of others taking advantage of Friday's beautiful, sunny offering
I resented the thought of others not taking advantage of Friday's beautiful, sunny offering
I told myself I was pathetic and lame
I had displaced anger
I feel asleep

I didn't wake up feeling better, but I woke up feeling less bad.
And like every chemo weekend before, the more hours that went by, the more myself I felt.

This Sunday morning, I'm back to me.
Though I can't say my present self is impressed I allowed my Chemo myself to be consumed as I did, I think it was almost necessary, for me to have been.

I know I'm not as weak as the person I was Friday.
But I also I know it's important for me to recognize, I'm not as strong as the person I was a year ago Friday either.

As much as I want to ignore the idea that I've been weakened through out this past year, last Friday's unexpected remote rage, proves I have.

But, I'm also certain that from this resolved weak, will also come an unexpected sort of strength.


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