Today I got a call from a friend, asking me for parenting advice. Apparently her child has been disrespectful and refuses to follow the rules. She doesn't know what the problem is, she's counting to 3 like the books say and then putting her in time out, what could be the issue?? So I have to step in and say, "The issue is that you're following a book, dear."
Don't get me wrong, I love books, and when I say love, I mean LOVE. I have literally thousands and I collect first editions and classics. I read books over and over again until the covers fall off and I'll read anything you put in front of me, anything- Harlequin novels, WWII history books, self help, religious texts, mysteries, true life crime, college text books (for fun!), I even own the report of the Warren Commission, and, yes, even parenting books- anything and everything. I don't think I'd live without books, and I'd probably save them in a fire before ever thinking to check on my hubby. I love, love, love them, BUT, they are not the be all, end all, and they do not contain the answers to all of life's mysteries. Do you know why? Because each book contains one person's point of view, and one person alone does not have all of the answers. Kind of a no-brainer, huh?
Does that mean I'm the type of parent who flies by the seat of my pants and makes shit up as I go? Absolutely not! I am not nearly that brave- I need a plan, a schedule. I have taken tons of classes, read hundreds of books, and I've learned one thing. Nothing is right all the time. Parenting requires a tool box and each and every "tool" you pick up goes in that box. Some jobs call for the hammer, some for the screwdriver, but none of them will work in all situations, none are suited for all jobs. (By the way, that last part there, I stole it from a Love and Logic course I took last year.) And now I'm all side-tracked...
Back to my friend. She calls today and asks me what she should do with her unruly daughter. Keep in mind, this woman has watched me parent for years, she may not know all the ins and outs of how I do it, but she must have the general idea, you'd think that nothing I would realistically say at this point would come as a shock. You'd be wrong, as was I. I told her that what she needed to do was stop with the chances. Stop counting. Stop warning the child and not doing anything. How scary does this sound? "That is your number one. You can throw that toy at me two more times, but then you're going to be punished." Do you think how you should immediately straighten up? I bet not. Hell, even I start thinking how awesome it is that I get one more freebie! No parent actually says those words verbatim, but let's just assume that our children aren't complete morons and can figure out the basics of 1, 2, 3, shall we?
Here's how that scenario would play out in my house: The child throws a toy at me. I immediately tell said child to march to time out while I think of a punishment. The child sits there until I ask this question, "Are you ready to talk about it yet?" They always say yes, we discuss, and a punishment is handed out. Typical punishments in this house include, but are not limited to, extra chores, early bed time, loss of tv, being grounded to your room, losing game privileges, and the punishment changes according to child. My son would die without tv but doesn't care about being grounded to his room. My oldest enjoys extra chores but can't stand being in her room. My youngest hates going to bed but can live without games. You have to hit them where it hurts, NOT literally, if you want them to make any changes. They're short people, not stupid people. Am I motivated by someone telling me that if I say that again I won't be allowed to do laundry anymore? Nope. In fact, that kinda makes me want to make up a song using nothing but whatever offensive word I've said. (In all honesty, it was probably 'motherfucker' or 'little pussy bitch'. Any song writers here?)
Anyway- Yes, my children will go to time out on their own without dragging their feet and without being yelled at and will sit there quietly until I tell them to get up. That in and of itself was borne from many times being carried to time out kicking and screaming and having time start over repeatedly if they weren't quiet and still. I wasn't handed well behaved children, I worked for them. And for about 18 months I worked really, really hard and I was spit at, kicked, hit, called names, battered and bruised,.. you name it, my kids did it. However, since my kids aren't idiots, they caught on and learned that it's easier and quicker to do as you're told the first time, cause what happens when mom has to tell you more than once is that mom gets angry, and when mom's angry, the punishments get sooo much worse.
So I tell her that that's what I would do and she is shocked. Genuinely shocked. And she says, "Wow. That sounds really mean. I don't think I could be that mean to my daughter." That kinda knocked me back a bit. Am I being mean to my kids or am I holding them to higher standards? Am I crossing a line or showing them where it is? I felt like she had kicked me in the stomach and I started to worry. After all, what's the difference between 'mean' and 'controlling and domineering'? I would prefer to think that my kids make their own decisions about their behavior and I'm just motivating them to make good ones, but am I wrong?
I sat on the couch for about 20 minutes thinking this over, at one point with teary eyes, when suddenly it occurred to me. The difference between my friend and I is that I am not looking for more friends, and she desperately wants them. She wants to be the fun mom, the one who never says no, she wants to be a friend, and I don't think that there is anything inherently wrong with that. I enjoy having fun with my kids, but really I don't care about any of that friend crap. I have the rest of their lives to be friends with them, and if history is any indicator, we'll become friends only after they move out anyway, so right now what I need to do is be their parent. I can't parent them and direct their decisions when they're my age and out on their own because that's my time to be a friend. Right now I can't be a friend because it's the time to direct so that when they're my age and out on their own making decisions they won't need a parent.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that different things work for different kids. My parenting style works in my house, but apparently wouldn't in her house. If I took on her parenting style in this house, I'd be a sitting duck. Just because something isn't going to work in your house doesn't mean you shouldn't listen. You never know how you could modify someone else's idea to work for you. Besides, listening is just plain respectful and modeling correct behavior to your kids is just as important, if not more so, than telling them what the expectations are. Parenting.... Tool Boxes... make sure yours is filled with lots and lots of stuff so that you'll never be in a situation that you don't have a tool for. And THAT last part came right out of the mouth of my father.
(See, Dad, you were right after all!!)
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
In retrospect, I may have over-reacted. I'm admitting that here because I will never actually say it to them.
Tomorrow starts another half-year of homeschooling in this house. sigh. Part of me is really looking forward to having the teacher role again. I love coming up with all the fun activities, playing, and getting dirty with my kids. Less excited about giving up my afternoons alone.
Last Wednesday I got a call from my aunt at 12:45 pm. The school had called her looking for me cause my child had a fever over 101. Here are a few points I'd like to make about that.
~ School starts at 12:30. The bus comes at 12:05. They were not sick when they left. I am NOT a parent that sends sick kids to school. Sick kids do not leave this house. Period.
~ Both my husband and myself were home that day. Nobody called our house or either one of our cell phones, or even my in-laws who live in this city. Instead they call my aunt and my mother, who live in the next county over.
So, I'm fairly pissy before I even get there.
I am getting very, very pissed off at this point, but I have a sick kid that needs my attention so I take my kids home. Once home I whip out the thermometers, four of them to be exact, and do you know what? Neither of my kids has a damn fever!! This is the second time, frickin second time!, that my children have been sent home with a mysterious, disappearing fever this year. I called the office for a few reasons- to ask if the kids had been given Tylenol or something that would help the fever (of course they hadn't been, I knew that) AND to report that once again those damn people sent my kids home for no apparent reason. While on the phone with the office bitch she puts me on hold and I overhear this- the office bitch saying to someone, "This bitch is pissed!" and then the questioning of the teacher. According to the teacher what had happened is my youngest didn't like what was being served for lunch and she wanted to lay on the bean bag chair instead. I know my youngest pretty well and I am certain that it didn't go that nicely, she probably was throwing a fit and stomping her feet and just generally acting like someone who just turned 3. I'm guessing that the teacher didn't want to handle her tantrum and sent her home instead.
Tomorrow starts another half-year of homeschooling in this house. sigh. Part of me is really looking forward to having the teacher role again. I love coming up with all the fun activities, playing, and getting dirty with my kids. Less excited about giving up my afternoons alone.
Last Wednesday I got a call from my aunt at 12:45 pm. The school had called her looking for me cause my child had a fever over 101. Here are a few points I'd like to make about that.
~ School starts at 12:30. The bus comes at 12:05. They were not sick when they left. I am NOT a parent that sends sick kids to school. Sick kids do not leave this house. Period.
~ Both my husband and myself were home that day. Nobody called our house or either one of our cell phones, or even my in-laws who live in this city. Instead they call my aunt and my mother, who live in the next county over.
So, I'm fairly pissy before I even get there.
Now, the original message was that my youngest has a fever. When I get there however they inform me that I'll be taking my son home as well. No, nothing is wrong with him, but ya know, why have any kids in the classroom if you don't have to? Ugh.
While I was there I went to the office to ask why I didn't get a call. The office bitch jumps down my throat about how irresponsible it is of me to leave my kids there with no way for anyone to get ahold of me. She had called me repeatedly.. or at least as repeatedly as you can call someone within 15 minutes of school starting. What if there had been an emergency? Here again, I am NOT a parent that engages in this behavior. I demanded that she show me which number I gave her. She pulls out our file and what do I see? My house phone, cell phone, and my hubby's cell phone all written on the card- complete, legible, and labeled, just as I knew they would be. Grr.
While I was there I went to the office to ask why I didn't get a call. The office bitch jumps down my throat about how irresponsible it is of me to leave my kids there with no way for anyone to get ahold of me. She had called me repeatedly.. or at least as repeatedly as you can call someone within 15 minutes of school starting. What if there had been an emergency? Here again, I am NOT a parent that engages in this behavior. I demanded that she show me which number I gave her. She pulls out our file and what do I see? My house phone, cell phone, and my hubby's cell phone all written on the card- complete, legible, and labeled, just as I knew they would be. Grr.
I am getting very, very pissed off at this point, but I have a sick kid that needs my attention so I take my kids home. Once home I whip out the thermometers, four of them to be exact, and do you know what? Neither of my kids has a damn fever!! This is the second time, frickin second time!, that my children have been sent home with a mysterious, disappearing fever this year. I called the office for a few reasons- to ask if the kids had been given Tylenol or something that would help the fever (of course they hadn't been, I knew that) AND to report that once again those damn people sent my kids home for no apparent reason. While on the phone with the office bitch she puts me on hold and I overhear this- the office bitch saying to someone, "This bitch is pissed!" and then the questioning of the teacher. According to the teacher what had happened is my youngest didn't like what was being served for lunch and she wanted to lay on the bean bag chair instead. I know my youngest pretty well and I am certain that it didn't go that nicely, she probably was throwing a fit and stomping her feet and just generally acting like someone who just turned 3. I'm guessing that the teacher didn't want to handle her tantrum and sent her home instead.
When the office bitch, which is what I called her out loud since she felt free to call me a bitch, got back on the phone I offered to bring my kids and all 4 of my thermometers to the school and test them against the one in the classroom, which had since been cleared so I could see no reading on it whatsoever from my child. The ob, office bitch get it?, told me that it would be unfair to take away from the rest of the kids and spend time on that. Then she said that they had decided at the school that my kids wouldn't be allowed back in school on Thursday either, I'd have to keep them home til Monday cause there is no school on Fridays. WTF!!? That is when I told her, "I'm all done talking to an illiterate office bitch. I want a superintendent or a director on this phone immediately." Come to find out my children's school apparently doesn't have anyone in either of those roles. How is that ok? Don't the teachers need someone to direct them, tell them what the new state guidelines are..someone to do whatever the hell directors and superintendents do??
Had that been the only problem I might have just bit my lip and let it slide, but there is more to the story than that. My son has come home from school twice this year with nasty rashes/welts and I have taken him to the med center. The most recent time was Monday, two days before all this happened. The very first time I had to bring him, in October, he was diagnosed with hives and given anti-histamines, and we went home. No big deal, and I didn't address it with anyone. Shit happens, right? The second time, on Monday, when I brought him he was diagnosed with bug bites. I was told to go home and search our beds looking for bug casings and to check the dog for fleas. I was kinda hoping for chicken pox to be honest. Bugs make me sick, but I went home and did as I was asked, complete with magnifying glass, and there are no bugs here. Not anywhere. He didn't have them when he left for school that day, but was covered in them when he returned.
Had that been the only problem I might have just bit my lip and let it slide, but there is more to the story than that. My son has come home from school twice this year with nasty rashes/welts and I have taken him to the med center. The most recent time was Monday, two days before all this happened. The very first time I had to bring him, in October, he was diagnosed with hives and given anti-histamines, and we went home. No big deal, and I didn't address it with anyone. Shit happens, right? The second time, on Monday, when I brought him he was diagnosed with bug bites. I was told to go home and search our beds looking for bug casings and to check the dog for fleas. I was kinda hoping for chicken pox to be honest. Bugs make me sick, but I went home and did as I was asked, complete with magnifying glass, and there are no bugs here. Not anywhere. He didn't have them when he left for school that day, but was covered in them when he returned.
SOOO.. this school causes my children to break out in hives, is having some sort of bug infestation, and my children fall mysteriously ill and the only thing that fixes them is walking into my home?? I am not ok with that. I find that unacceptable and thus, starting tomorrow, I now homeschool. Ahh, life, what a joker.
Friday, January 6, 2012
My Daughter is Perfect and Where The Hell Does That Come From?!
I don't often publicly sing the praises of my children, but today I'm going to do just that. Well, at least for one of them, because I am seriously the luckiest mom ever and someone just HAS to know about it. And maybe cause secretly I think you should all be just a little jealous. I'm joking, probably.
My oldest child is the most perfect child on the planet and I'm not just saying this cause I'm biased, although I definitely am. Her teachers, bus drivers, friends' parents, neighbors, etc. all tell me so. She's years ahead academically, her behavior is flawless, she's sweet, giving, thoughtful, she's everything that everyone wants in a kid.
I never have to yell at her. I do occasionally have to speak to her about her choices, and by occasionally I mean once every two months or so, but I just say that she didn't make a very good choice and I'm disappointed and we're good to go for awhile. Even her "bad choices" are trivial, ridiculous things. Like she picked up all the toys in the play room but forgot the Barbie in her bedroom or she didn't put the toothpaste in the medicine cabinet, instead it's behind the sink. Nothing major and they happen so rarely that I hate to even say anything to the child at all, but then I start to feel guilty cause I'm yelling at her little brother and sister constantly.. constantly!.. and I don't want them to feel bad cause I never have to say anything to her.
She's sweetness and light and everything right with the world. The only thing that ever upsets her is when she can't help me around the house. She begs to fold laundry, literally cheers when I tell her she has chores, enjoys cleaning, wants to help in the kitchen, and if I don't have anything for her to do at the moment she gets upset. It's the only time her smile fades.
She dotes on her younger siblings. You can commonly find her curled up on the couch and reading books to them, or breaking up an argument, or helping them with buttons and zippers, reminding them to use their manners, the child is amazing. If she's playing with something and someone walks up to her and wants it, she walks away and finds something else to do. No tears, no whining, no arguing, just walks away from it.
I spent years trying to teach that girl to stand up for herself, open her mouth, don't back down.. basically trying to turn her into me, and do you know what happened? She was kicked out of school for not being emotionally ready, she was painfully shy, she couldn't interact comfortably with her peers, she was a mess.
About a year ago I decided that what I needed to do was build her confidence. So I stopped pressuring and reminding her to be more like me and just let her be herself and what has happened has been beautiful. She has blossomed into the most wonderful human being I've ever met. She even volunteers to be in front of the class and she has more friends than I can keep straight. Her teacher is head over heels in love, which is a completely mutual emotion.
The problem I had in parenting my first one was that I thought I had control. Silly me! I control nothing. About the best I can do is suggest things, stand back, and hope for the best. In the end they're gonna do exactly what they were meant to do, be who they were meant to be, and nothing I can do/say/believe/think/force is going to influence any of that. I'm glad that I've learned to step back and let them blossom, and I'm even more thankful that I live with a walking, talking reminder to do so, cause sometimes I really need the reminder. Who woulda thought that the moment that I chose to relinquish control would be the moment that everything fell into place? There's probably a lesson in there somewhere that I can use in the rest of my life... Nah, probably not.
My oldest child is the most perfect child on the planet and I'm not just saying this cause I'm biased, although I definitely am. Her teachers, bus drivers, friends' parents, neighbors, etc. all tell me so. She's years ahead academically, her behavior is flawless, she's sweet, giving, thoughtful, she's everything that everyone wants in a kid.
I never have to yell at her. I do occasionally have to speak to her about her choices, and by occasionally I mean once every two months or so, but I just say that she didn't make a very good choice and I'm disappointed and we're good to go for awhile. Even her "bad choices" are trivial, ridiculous things. Like she picked up all the toys in the play room but forgot the Barbie in her bedroom or she didn't put the toothpaste in the medicine cabinet, instead it's behind the sink. Nothing major and they happen so rarely that I hate to even say anything to the child at all, but then I start to feel guilty cause I'm yelling at her little brother and sister constantly.. constantly!.. and I don't want them to feel bad cause I never have to say anything to her.
She's sweetness and light and everything right with the world. The only thing that ever upsets her is when she can't help me around the house. She begs to fold laundry, literally cheers when I tell her she has chores, enjoys cleaning, wants to help in the kitchen, and if I don't have anything for her to do at the moment she gets upset. It's the only time her smile fades.
She dotes on her younger siblings. You can commonly find her curled up on the couch and reading books to them, or breaking up an argument, or helping them with buttons and zippers, reminding them to use their manners, the child is amazing. If she's playing with something and someone walks up to her and wants it, she walks away and finds something else to do. No tears, no whining, no arguing, just walks away from it.
I spent years trying to teach that girl to stand up for herself, open her mouth, don't back down.. basically trying to turn her into me, and do you know what happened? She was kicked out of school for not being emotionally ready, she was painfully shy, she couldn't interact comfortably with her peers, she was a mess.
About a year ago I decided that what I needed to do was build her confidence. So I stopped pressuring and reminding her to be more like me and just let her be herself and what has happened has been beautiful. She has blossomed into the most wonderful human being I've ever met. She even volunteers to be in front of the class and she has more friends than I can keep straight. Her teacher is head over heels in love, which is a completely mutual emotion.
The problem I had in parenting my first one was that I thought I had control. Silly me! I control nothing. About the best I can do is suggest things, stand back, and hope for the best. In the end they're gonna do exactly what they were meant to do, be who they were meant to be, and nothing I can do/say/believe/think/force is going to influence any of that. I'm glad that I've learned to step back and let them blossom, and I'm even more thankful that I live with a walking, talking reminder to do so, cause sometimes I really need the reminder. Who woulda thought that the moment that I chose to relinquish control would be the moment that everything fell into place? There's probably a lesson in there somewhere that I can use in the rest of my life... Nah, probably not.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Girlfriends
Today on my Facebook page I posted this status-
"I enjoy watching men interact. It's fascinating. One will be talking and the other one jumps in with a bigger, better story, interrupting the first story. Then there's a few insults thrown in and they walk away feeling bonded. I don't get it. If that was my friend, I'd walk away with hurt feelings and thinking that they hadn't heard a word I said.
I believe I've discovered why men's relationships are more peaceful than women's. They're unaware that anyone else is involved in the friendship."
This prompted many comments from my women fans that were basically all slamming other women. You can't find one to trust, it's all drama, they hold grudges, they're too sensitive, so on and so forth.
I must admit that not long ago I felt the same way about women. I found it difficult to have relationships with them. I dreaded meeting someone's new girlfriend because I knew we wouldn't get along. So I know where this is coming from, but this also devastates a part of me.
I made a conscious decision about a year or two ago to go to every new 'meeting of the girlfriend' with a positive attitude and a feeling that we were going to get along, and an amazing thing happened. I have gotten along with every new woman I met. I haven't become super tight best friends with all of them, but at the very least I would have a pleasant evening and enjoy their company. Now there have been a few that I have become super tight with and I value these relationships above most others. I have finally found people who understand where I'm coming from, who tell me to take care of myself, who erase the guilt that comes with being a mom. I could not live without these relationships, without the support and understanding that is bred in these relationships. I think this change was due to my change in attitude. Women, or people in general, are not stupid. We know when you've already made up your mind to hate us. When you think we're untrustworthy, we're gonna be nothing be drama, etc, you carry that air when you meet us. You make us uncomfortable, which makes it very difficult for us to ourselves. In my case, I either become very quiet, or I become defensive, either of these are not conducive to making new friends. I know for a fact that changing my attitude was exactly what changed the quality of my relationships with other women.
The other thing that makes me so sad about this is the loss of support and love for other women. Even in this advanced society women are expected to take on the majority of the cooking, cleaning, and child rearing, and many are holding down full time jobs, or more. As a woman, I think we are charged with supporting each other in the daily struggle. I find that these ways of thinking make that almost impossible. I think any woman out there with kids and/or a job, maybe just a woman with a bitchy significant other, can understand the pressures we are facing. Why are we not taking time out of our lives to build each other up, instead of tearing each other down? How can you look at another woman and, instead of seeing a fellow soldier in the trenches, you see an untrustworthy, dramatic, bitch? How can you make that decision before you've even spoken to her? I will not deny that those women exist, bad people exist in any group you want to talk about, but I truly believe that horrible people are not the majority. If they are in your group of friends, it just might be time for another group of friends. I have learned that my awesome friends generally choose awesome girlfriends.
I am sorry for the women that are missing out on the great quality of friendships that I have been blessed with, and sorry for the women who are torn down by the very people who should be showing the most understanding and compassion. This is a sad thing indeed, for both sides of the story.
"I enjoy watching men interact. It's fascinating. One will be talking and the other one jumps in with a bigger, better story, interrupting the first story. Then there's a few insults thrown in and they walk away feeling bonded. I don't get it. If that was my friend, I'd walk away with hurt feelings and thinking that they hadn't heard a word I said.
I believe I've discovered why men's relationships are more peaceful than women's. They're unaware that anyone else is involved in the friendship."
This prompted many comments from my women fans that were basically all slamming other women. You can't find one to trust, it's all drama, they hold grudges, they're too sensitive, so on and so forth.
I must admit that not long ago I felt the same way about women. I found it difficult to have relationships with them. I dreaded meeting someone's new girlfriend because I knew we wouldn't get along. So I know where this is coming from, but this also devastates a part of me.
I made a conscious decision about a year or two ago to go to every new 'meeting of the girlfriend' with a positive attitude and a feeling that we were going to get along, and an amazing thing happened. I have gotten along with every new woman I met. I haven't become super tight best friends with all of them, but at the very least I would have a pleasant evening and enjoy their company. Now there have been a few that I have become super tight with and I value these relationships above most others. I have finally found people who understand where I'm coming from, who tell me to take care of myself, who erase the guilt that comes with being a mom. I could not live without these relationships, without the support and understanding that is bred in these relationships. I think this change was due to my change in attitude. Women, or people in general, are not stupid. We know when you've already made up your mind to hate us. When you think we're untrustworthy, we're gonna be nothing be drama, etc, you carry that air when you meet us. You make us uncomfortable, which makes it very difficult for us to ourselves. In my case, I either become very quiet, or I become defensive, either of these are not conducive to making new friends. I know for a fact that changing my attitude was exactly what changed the quality of my relationships with other women.
The other thing that makes me so sad about this is the loss of support and love for other women. Even in this advanced society women are expected to take on the majority of the cooking, cleaning, and child rearing, and many are holding down full time jobs, or more. As a woman, I think we are charged with supporting each other in the daily struggle. I find that these ways of thinking make that almost impossible. I think any woman out there with kids and/or a job, maybe just a woman with a bitchy significant other, can understand the pressures we are facing. Why are we not taking time out of our lives to build each other up, instead of tearing each other down? How can you look at another woman and, instead of seeing a fellow soldier in the trenches, you see an untrustworthy, dramatic, bitch? How can you make that decision before you've even spoken to her? I will not deny that those women exist, bad people exist in any group you want to talk about, but I truly believe that horrible people are not the majority. If they are in your group of friends, it just might be time for another group of friends. I have learned that my awesome friends generally choose awesome girlfriends.
I am sorry for the women that are missing out on the great quality of friendships that I have been blessed with, and sorry for the women who are torn down by the very people who should be showing the most understanding and compassion. This is a sad thing indeed, for both sides of the story.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
This Little Blog Discusses My Sex Life - A Lot
I'm sure we've all heard the jokes about married sex, yes? Oh, don't get married... That'll be the end of sex, and then all of your friends sit around and laugh. We've all been there, on one side of that conversation or another, I'm sure. Now, all the articles and advice columns say that that isn't true, or at least doesn't have to be true, and here are 25 ways to overcome it... blah, blah, blah. I'm going to tell you something that they never tell you. It's true.
I don't believe this is due to marriage however. When my husband and I were first married our sex life was uncontrollable, just as it had been before we were married. Then the children came along. That is what changed everything. Let me also tell you that the change in our sex life isn't something we wanted, or enjoy. In fact we discuss it and complain about it all the time, but we feel stuck in a no-sex rut.
I am the queen of day time sex. Come night time I just wanna lay around and watch tv and unwind, but there is something about morning or early afternoon that really works for me. For the last two years what hasn't worked for me are the kids screaming in the morning, knocking on the door, expecting breakfast immediately, and crawling into bed with us. This is not a situation conducive to sex, at least not for me. Daytime isn't any better. Then they want me to fix toys, play cars, watch movies, fill juice cups, wipe their ass, get snacks.. I never have 10 minutes to myself, and I'll admit a quickie here and there is great fun, but I don't want my entire sex life built on those.
We've tried switching it up and having sex at night, but damn, we're just so tired. My hubby gets up stupid early for work and pulls 12-14 hour days and then comes home and does the dad thing and helps around the house. (I'm lucky, I know.) I've been with kids all day, which leaves me physically exhausted, yes, but also stressed to the max and emotionally wiped out. I also have to find moments in between parenting to work. I've been balancing and juggling all day and I am just so done. The last damn thing I want to do is actually put any effort into having sex, and he feels the same way.
We've read the articles and tried it all. Scheduling sex, having dates, having quickies when we can, cuddling and holding hands more often... it doesn't make any difference. We've heard all of the lines about putting your relationship before your children, but that isn't really possible now is it? He doesn't rely on me to make him food, or teach him how to tie his shoes. He simply doesn't need me like they do, so it's very easy to put him behind them in line, on the same level as myself actually. It's not that we don't love each other or aren't attracted to each other, we just don't have it in us at the end of the day.
We talk and dream of the days that the kids will be bigger, making their own breakfast, he'll have a better job with better hours, maybe the kids will be out with friends even, or at least too old to want to have much to do with us. Yes, sex is now in our 10 year plan.
My children have killed my sex life. Someday, when they're all grown up, maybe expecting their first child, I'm going to have them read this.. and I'll expect an apology, and a look of fear, or perhaps disbelief, to sweep across their sweet, unknowing faces. Inside I'll smile as I watch the circle of life take hold and plunge them into their own seemingly endless no-sex rut- and I'll go home and do things that make their dad's eyes roll back in his head. Someday.
I don't believe this is due to marriage however. When my husband and I were first married our sex life was uncontrollable, just as it had been before we were married. Then the children came along. That is what changed everything. Let me also tell you that the change in our sex life isn't something we wanted, or enjoy. In fact we discuss it and complain about it all the time, but we feel stuck in a no-sex rut.
I am the queen of day time sex. Come night time I just wanna lay around and watch tv and unwind, but there is something about morning or early afternoon that really works for me. For the last two years what hasn't worked for me are the kids screaming in the morning, knocking on the door, expecting breakfast immediately, and crawling into bed with us. This is not a situation conducive to sex, at least not for me. Daytime isn't any better. Then they want me to fix toys, play cars, watch movies, fill juice cups, wipe their ass, get snacks.. I never have 10 minutes to myself, and I'll admit a quickie here and there is great fun, but I don't want my entire sex life built on those.
We've tried switching it up and having sex at night, but damn, we're just so tired. My hubby gets up stupid early for work and pulls 12-14 hour days and then comes home and does the dad thing and helps around the house. (I'm lucky, I know.) I've been with kids all day, which leaves me physically exhausted, yes, but also stressed to the max and emotionally wiped out. I also have to find moments in between parenting to work. I've been balancing and juggling all day and I am just so done. The last damn thing I want to do is actually put any effort into having sex, and he feels the same way.
We've read the articles and tried it all. Scheduling sex, having dates, having quickies when we can, cuddling and holding hands more often... it doesn't make any difference. We've heard all of the lines about putting your relationship before your children, but that isn't really possible now is it? He doesn't rely on me to make him food, or teach him how to tie his shoes. He simply doesn't need me like they do, so it's very easy to put him behind them in line, on the same level as myself actually. It's not that we don't love each other or aren't attracted to each other, we just don't have it in us at the end of the day.
We talk and dream of the days that the kids will be bigger, making their own breakfast, he'll have a better job with better hours, maybe the kids will be out with friends even, or at least too old to want to have much to do with us. Yes, sex is now in our 10 year plan.
My children have killed my sex life. Someday, when they're all grown up, maybe expecting their first child, I'm going to have them read this.. and I'll expect an apology, and a look of fear, or perhaps disbelief, to sweep across their sweet, unknowing faces. Inside I'll smile as I watch the circle of life take hold and plunge them into their own seemingly endless no-sex rut- and I'll go home and do things that make their dad's eyes roll back in his head. Someday.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Being a MOM
I am writing this after sending my kids to bed an hour and a half early because I just couldn't take their behavior anymore. The incessant whining, pushing, talking back, rudeness, and the temper tantrums all got to me today and I just couldn't handle it anymore. I felt like a ball of rage. I wanted to scream and hit and kick. I wanted to show them, I wanted to make them pay for the hell that they put me through this week, but I didn't, and even in the midst of that- I love them with a love that they will never comprehend until they experience it for themselves. I still look at them, peacefully in their bed and think, "How lucky am I?" That is what being a mom is for me. It's dealing with torture and smiling, it's going against every bone in my body and functioning solely on love. It is showing love non-stop after my children have done/said something that would have gotten anyone else run over with the van. And sometimes it's knowing when to put them to bed because I've run out of effective, rational parenting skills.
This is my dream come true. It's not rainbows, butterflies, and lollipops all the time. It's real life and sometimes it's gritty. Sometimes I don't know what's going to happen from minute to minute. Sometimes I don't know what's going to come out of my mouth when I open it, and sometimes what comes out of my mouth is neither helpful or true. Sometimes what comes out of my mouth is mean and uncalled for. Being a mom is screwing it up daily and knowing that your kids will still love you tomorrow and give you another chance, just like you'll do for them.
Being a mom is also full of priceless, amazing moments. When you come stumbling down the stairs after being up all night with a puking kid, you haven't showered in 4 days, and you've been wearing the same clothes since God only knows when, but your son looks at you and smiles this amazing smile, sucks in, and says, most earnestly, "Mommy, you're sooo beautiful." Or your daughter picks clovers and dandelions for you and delivers them like they're 12 dozen red roses. Or she says, "Can you smile, Mom? I really love your smile." My two year old will often climb into my lap, put her hands on my cheeks, and just rub my face while looking deep into my eyes. She doesn't say any words, she doesn't have to, I know exactly what's going on. She loves me, despite my imperfections and my quick temper, she thinks I'm the best mommy ever. There are moments, while laying on the couch with a sleeping baby, where even through the sleepless daze, I feel so blessed. My children move me to tears constantly, and usually for all the right reasons. I have never met three people so innocent and pure, so hopeful and resilient. They are my inspiration- even on days when I wish I could bury them in the backyard. My fervent wish is to be the mommy my kids think I am. I'm failing, but I keep trying. Being a mom is real life. It's messy, littered with human waste, and smattered with just the right amount of heart stopping, breath taking, and blinding love- given and received. It's everything I ever wanted, and nothing I expected.
This is my dream come true. It's not rainbows, butterflies, and lollipops all the time. It's real life and sometimes it's gritty. Sometimes I don't know what's going to happen from minute to minute. Sometimes I don't know what's going to come out of my mouth when I open it, and sometimes what comes out of my mouth is neither helpful or true. Sometimes what comes out of my mouth is mean and uncalled for. Being a mom is screwing it up daily and knowing that your kids will still love you tomorrow and give you another chance, just like you'll do for them.
Being a mom is also full of priceless, amazing moments. When you come stumbling down the stairs after being up all night with a puking kid, you haven't showered in 4 days, and you've been wearing the same clothes since God only knows when, but your son looks at you and smiles this amazing smile, sucks in, and says, most earnestly, "Mommy, you're sooo beautiful." Or your daughter picks clovers and dandelions for you and delivers them like they're 12 dozen red roses. Or she says, "Can you smile, Mom? I really love your smile." My two year old will often climb into my lap, put her hands on my cheeks, and just rub my face while looking deep into my eyes. She doesn't say any words, she doesn't have to, I know exactly what's going on. She loves me, despite my imperfections and my quick temper, she thinks I'm the best mommy ever. There are moments, while laying on the couch with a sleeping baby, where even through the sleepless daze, I feel so blessed. My children move me to tears constantly, and usually for all the right reasons. I have never met three people so innocent and pure, so hopeful and resilient. They are my inspiration- even on days when I wish I could bury them in the backyard. My fervent wish is to be the mommy my kids think I am. I'm failing, but I keep trying. Being a mom is real life. It's messy, littered with human waste, and smattered with just the right amount of heart stopping, breath taking, and blinding love- given and received. It's everything I ever wanted, and nothing I expected.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
This is How We Became a Family
I'm not sure where this one will go, so let's just jump in and figure it out, shall we?
The best place to start a story is at the beginning and this particular story begins when I was four. When I was in preschool we all wrote down what we wanted to be when we grew up, drew a picture of it, and then the school made a big book of all of them and sent it out to every family. As you can imagine it was full of fire fighters, doctors, lawyers, veterinarians.. the usual- and then, there was my page. What I wanted to be, really, really, wanted to be, was a mommy. As the years went by that wanting never went away, in fact it just got stronger and stronger and more consuming with every year that passed.
I ended up getting pregnant senior year of high school, not recommended, and I was so excited- and scared. I wanted to be a mommy, but I wanted to be a good one, and I just wasn't ready for that yet. My boyfriend at the time and I argued endlessly about giving her up for adoption or keeping her. As it turned out, we weren't afforded the luxury of making that choice. I miscarried over Spring Break, technically I guess I didn't miscarry and I had to have a D&C, whatever. It was heartbreaking and still to this day brings tears to my eyes. I miss my daughter every day and I wonder what she would have been like, who she would have turned into, what her smile would have looked like, everything and anything. As I always do, I tried to take it in stride and pretend that I was ok with it, after all I wanted to give her up for adoption anyway so it wasn't like I was planning on having her, right? Well, as it turns out, there is a huge difference to the heart between making a choice to give someone up and having that person die before you even meet them. As I got older though I started to look at that as a necessary evil. What other way can you look at it without being depressed? Life went on, I dated, fell in love, fell out of love, and everything was fine.
In 2005, after five years of going to doctor after doctor with no results, I was diagnosed with a neural tumor. Not cancerous or anything, but scary nonetheless. What had happened was the nerves in my spine had just kept growing and growing and created a huge jumbled mess, about the size of a football. (Don't even get me started on how the hell a doctor can NOT notice a football sized growth for five years.) Surgery was scheduled and I was going in to be fixed. Because of the nature of the tumor, and the fact that it had wound its way through my intestines and around my ovaries, fallopian tubes, and bladder, the surgery was very long (14 hours) and I didn't have the best odds. I had about a 20% chance of living through the surgery, a smaller chance that I would retain bowel and bladder control, and an even smaller chance than that that I would ever walk again. I am happy to report that I'm alive, still walking, and do not wear a diaper. The other side effect of the surgery- I cannot have children. My fallopian tubes are crushed and my ovaries are non-functioning. My tumor produced small amounts of testosterone, and when it wrapped around my ovaries, it ruined them. As if being diagnosed with something scary and rare (20th person on the planet to be diagnosed), going through a surgery from hell (I was basically cut in half and put back together- recovery from that SUCKS), and spending an entire summer thinking I was saying goodbye to my friends and family for the very last time.. now my life long dream is gone. I was devastated, and then felt ungrateful because I knew I should have been happy enough to just be alive, but I had serious thoughts that not being able to have children made life not worth it all.
About a year and a half after surgery I met my husband. It was instant attraction and we both knew from the beginning that this was "the one". We knew each other for about 3 months before we started dating, got engaged 6 weeks into our relationship, and were married a year later. The hardest thing I ever did was tell him I can't have kids. He's wanted kids his whole life, just like me, and I was afraid that he'd leave. However, my hubby is nothing if not amazing, and he told me that if we wanted kids we'd just find other ways, and if we decided that we didn't want kids, he'd be happy with just me. He is a wonderful man, and I love him more and more each day.
At first we looked into IVF and other fertility treatments, but, wow, is that expensive and we were young and just starting out. $10,000 a month sounded like a lotto winning, not what you pay for fertility treatment, so that was out. When that went out so did donors, surrogates, and every other medical treatment we were looking at. Next, we decided to look into adoption. That too was astronomical. At that time we could afford to take care of a kid if it showed up on our doorstep, but there was no way that we had $20,000 to $100,000 upfront. We were back at square one and had nowhere to turn. I once again felt my dream fading and I was once again devastated. One day we were sitting on the couch watching tv and it was like one of those brilliant a-ha moments- I turned to him and just said, "foster care". I called the agency the next day and 10 days after our wedding, we started the process of becoming licensed foster parents.
The process of being licensed is intense and feels like it lasts forever. There are multiple visits to your home, some unannounced, there are FBI fingerprint/ background checks, 20 hours of mandatory classes which isn't a lot, but still, you turn over all of your bank info, they talk to your family and friends- sometimes without your knowledge, you have to go to a doctor and be completely checked out to be sure that you're healthy enough- they don't want to put kids in your home and then have you drop dead, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. It is, in short, the most intrusive thing I have ever been through. I viewed it as a test, and I think it is, to see how much you really want to do this. We were told that the whole process could take about 2-3 years before we have kids in our house. I gladly signed up to live like that for the rest of my life if I had to, anything to be a mom, any hoop, any obstacle, anything.
Six months later we got a call at 9pm from our case worker asking us if we wanted three kids. Hell yes we did!! We were told to pick them up at the agency the next morning and that is precisely what we did.
I remember the very first time I saw my precious babies. They walked in with a caseworker and stood with their backs to the wall, wringing their hands, and staring at the floor. They were so scared, so lost.. and so damn beautiful. The two oldest were cajoled into coming and sitting by me to color, the baby was put in my arms and we just got to hang out there like that for about an hour. My son, then 25 months, introduced me to his teddy bear and told me all about his love of fire trucks. The baby, then 5 months, fell asleep in my arms and my oldest, barely 3 at the time, had nothing to do with me. Not that it mattered, I loved her instantly, she was, and still is, my soul mate. I would like to protect my children's privacy, so here's some vague back story. Two of my children were physically abused- beaten and burned mostly.. one of my children was sexually abused and repeatedly raped at the age of 23 months and has permanent physical damage and deformation.. one of my children tested positive for cocaine at birth and has Sensory Processing Disorder, which is a blanket diagnosis that encompasses anything from ADD to autism, and we're awaiting further testing.. all of my children were exposed to mass amounts of alcohol during the pregnancy and we are fortunate that this has had no impact on them, we were also the 8th home for the oldest, 6th for the middle one, and 4th for the baby- and she was only 5 months old. As you can imagine, being a parent is hard enough, but trying to parent three strangers that went through all of that is nothing short of absolute hell. They are angry, with every right to be that way.. they don't trust you, here again, understandably.. they want nothing to do with you and blame you for everything that has happened- not because they truly believe it's your fault, but you're the one that's there so you get the brunt of it. Children are not meant to deal with adult issues and it's not pretty when they're forced to.
Wow, this got long. I'll finish it up quickly.
The statistic is that 50% of foster kids go back to their biological family, so even though I now had them in my home, there was no guarantee that they were going to stay. The next year with them was tough. They came around and accepted us, started calling us mom and dad (NO, we never asked them to, or referred to ourselves that way) but the hard part was their biological dad. Their mother had signed away her rights, but he was still holding on for dear life, not that I blame him at all, I wouldn't let them go without the fight of my life either. He was doing anything in his power to screw us over legally. He called CPS on us for mosquito bites (literally, yes), refused to give the kids their clothing or toys, would show up for his visitation when and if he felt like it and do nothing but try to get info out of them about us and where we were, we were dragged in and out of court for every appeal and every stoppage he and his attorney could think of, it was an insane year, but he finally ran out of appeals and we were cleared to adopt. We adopted our three kids one year after they came to live us to the day. The judge asked me on adoption day if I had anything to say. I was crying so hard that day that I couldn't speak so I never got to tell him, but this is what I would have loved to say...
These kids are my dream come true. I hoped and prayed to have kids some day. I went through a lot to get here, and at no point in my baby dreams was I even close to how incredible this would be. We may not have become a family in the normal way, but we are a family. I was put on this planet to find these children, and they were put here to be with me. My entire life is complete and I love my children in a way that I cannot express with words. Thank you so much for allowing me to adopt them because without them I would be completely lost.
The best place to start a story is at the beginning and this particular story begins when I was four. When I was in preschool we all wrote down what we wanted to be when we grew up, drew a picture of it, and then the school made a big book of all of them and sent it out to every family. As you can imagine it was full of fire fighters, doctors, lawyers, veterinarians.. the usual- and then, there was my page. What I wanted to be, really, really, wanted to be, was a mommy. As the years went by that wanting never went away, in fact it just got stronger and stronger and more consuming with every year that passed.
I ended up getting pregnant senior year of high school, not recommended, and I was so excited- and scared. I wanted to be a mommy, but I wanted to be a good one, and I just wasn't ready for that yet. My boyfriend at the time and I argued endlessly about giving her up for adoption or keeping her. As it turned out, we weren't afforded the luxury of making that choice. I miscarried over Spring Break, technically I guess I didn't miscarry and I had to have a D&C, whatever. It was heartbreaking and still to this day brings tears to my eyes. I miss my daughter every day and I wonder what she would have been like, who she would have turned into, what her smile would have looked like, everything and anything. As I always do, I tried to take it in stride and pretend that I was ok with it, after all I wanted to give her up for adoption anyway so it wasn't like I was planning on having her, right? Well, as it turns out, there is a huge difference to the heart between making a choice to give someone up and having that person die before you even meet them. As I got older though I started to look at that as a necessary evil. What other way can you look at it without being depressed? Life went on, I dated, fell in love, fell out of love, and everything was fine.
In 2005, after five years of going to doctor after doctor with no results, I was diagnosed with a neural tumor. Not cancerous or anything, but scary nonetheless. What had happened was the nerves in my spine had just kept growing and growing and created a huge jumbled mess, about the size of a football. (Don't even get me started on how the hell a doctor can NOT notice a football sized growth for five years.) Surgery was scheduled and I was going in to be fixed. Because of the nature of the tumor, and the fact that it had wound its way through my intestines and around my ovaries, fallopian tubes, and bladder, the surgery was very long (14 hours) and I didn't have the best odds. I had about a 20% chance of living through the surgery, a smaller chance that I would retain bowel and bladder control, and an even smaller chance than that that I would ever walk again. I am happy to report that I'm alive, still walking, and do not wear a diaper. The other side effect of the surgery- I cannot have children. My fallopian tubes are crushed and my ovaries are non-functioning. My tumor produced small amounts of testosterone, and when it wrapped around my ovaries, it ruined them. As if being diagnosed with something scary and rare (20th person on the planet to be diagnosed), going through a surgery from hell (I was basically cut in half and put back together- recovery from that SUCKS), and spending an entire summer thinking I was saying goodbye to my friends and family for the very last time.. now my life long dream is gone. I was devastated, and then felt ungrateful because I knew I should have been happy enough to just be alive, but I had serious thoughts that not being able to have children made life not worth it all.
About a year and a half after surgery I met my husband. It was instant attraction and we both knew from the beginning that this was "the one". We knew each other for about 3 months before we started dating, got engaged 6 weeks into our relationship, and were married a year later. The hardest thing I ever did was tell him I can't have kids. He's wanted kids his whole life, just like me, and I was afraid that he'd leave. However, my hubby is nothing if not amazing, and he told me that if we wanted kids we'd just find other ways, and if we decided that we didn't want kids, he'd be happy with just me. He is a wonderful man, and I love him more and more each day.
At first we looked into IVF and other fertility treatments, but, wow, is that expensive and we were young and just starting out. $10,000 a month sounded like a lotto winning, not what you pay for fertility treatment, so that was out. When that went out so did donors, surrogates, and every other medical treatment we were looking at. Next, we decided to look into adoption. That too was astronomical. At that time we could afford to take care of a kid if it showed up on our doorstep, but there was no way that we had $20,000 to $100,000 upfront. We were back at square one and had nowhere to turn. I once again felt my dream fading and I was once again devastated. One day we were sitting on the couch watching tv and it was like one of those brilliant a-ha moments- I turned to him and just said, "foster care". I called the agency the next day and 10 days after our wedding, we started the process of becoming licensed foster parents.
The process of being licensed is intense and feels like it lasts forever. There are multiple visits to your home, some unannounced, there are FBI fingerprint/ background checks, 20 hours of mandatory classes which isn't a lot, but still, you turn over all of your bank info, they talk to your family and friends- sometimes without your knowledge, you have to go to a doctor and be completely checked out to be sure that you're healthy enough- they don't want to put kids in your home and then have you drop dead, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. It is, in short, the most intrusive thing I have ever been through. I viewed it as a test, and I think it is, to see how much you really want to do this. We were told that the whole process could take about 2-3 years before we have kids in our house. I gladly signed up to live like that for the rest of my life if I had to, anything to be a mom, any hoop, any obstacle, anything.
Six months later we got a call at 9pm from our case worker asking us if we wanted three kids. Hell yes we did!! We were told to pick them up at the agency the next morning and that is precisely what we did.
I remember the very first time I saw my precious babies. They walked in with a caseworker and stood with their backs to the wall, wringing their hands, and staring at the floor. They were so scared, so lost.. and so damn beautiful. The two oldest were cajoled into coming and sitting by me to color, the baby was put in my arms and we just got to hang out there like that for about an hour. My son, then 25 months, introduced me to his teddy bear and told me all about his love of fire trucks. The baby, then 5 months, fell asleep in my arms and my oldest, barely 3 at the time, had nothing to do with me. Not that it mattered, I loved her instantly, she was, and still is, my soul mate. I would like to protect my children's privacy, so here's some vague back story. Two of my children were physically abused- beaten and burned mostly.. one of my children was sexually abused and repeatedly raped at the age of 23 months and has permanent physical damage and deformation.. one of my children tested positive for cocaine at birth and has Sensory Processing Disorder, which is a blanket diagnosis that encompasses anything from ADD to autism, and we're awaiting further testing.. all of my children were exposed to mass amounts of alcohol during the pregnancy and we are fortunate that this has had no impact on them, we were also the 8th home for the oldest, 6th for the middle one, and 4th for the baby- and she was only 5 months old. As you can imagine, being a parent is hard enough, but trying to parent three strangers that went through all of that is nothing short of absolute hell. They are angry, with every right to be that way.. they don't trust you, here again, understandably.. they want nothing to do with you and blame you for everything that has happened- not because they truly believe it's your fault, but you're the one that's there so you get the brunt of it. Children are not meant to deal with adult issues and it's not pretty when they're forced to.
Wow, this got long. I'll finish it up quickly.
The statistic is that 50% of foster kids go back to their biological family, so even though I now had them in my home, there was no guarantee that they were going to stay. The next year with them was tough. They came around and accepted us, started calling us mom and dad (NO, we never asked them to, or referred to ourselves that way) but the hard part was their biological dad. Their mother had signed away her rights, but he was still holding on for dear life, not that I blame him at all, I wouldn't let them go without the fight of my life either. He was doing anything in his power to screw us over legally. He called CPS on us for mosquito bites (literally, yes), refused to give the kids their clothing or toys, would show up for his visitation when and if he felt like it and do nothing but try to get info out of them about us and where we were, we were dragged in and out of court for every appeal and every stoppage he and his attorney could think of, it was an insane year, but he finally ran out of appeals and we were cleared to adopt. We adopted our three kids one year after they came to live us to the day. The judge asked me on adoption day if I had anything to say. I was crying so hard that day that I couldn't speak so I never got to tell him, but this is what I would have loved to say...
These kids are my dream come true. I hoped and prayed to have kids some day. I went through a lot to get here, and at no point in my baby dreams was I even close to how incredible this would be. We may not have become a family in the normal way, but we are a family. I was put on this planet to find these children, and they were put here to be with me. My entire life is complete and I love my children in a way that I cannot express with words. Thank you so much for allowing me to adopt them because without them I would be completely lost.
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