I’m still squicked by that TA who was arrested. It takes a lot to get me really skeeved… I mean, I’ve been desensitized to pretty much everything for a long time now. But an overwhelmingly dark and depressing feeling keeps showing up…now and then, randomly. I was changing Isaac’s diaper and got a weird tightness in my chest. How can anyone do that to a baby? How can anyone sexualize them in that way? There are no rational words. All I want to scream is “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” But perhaps the answer is that simple: there IS something wrong. Insanity, some kind of chemical imbalance. In this world there is good and evil and to me, that’s pretty fucking evil.
Three days. In a row. That’s how long Elliot has gone to school and worn underwear. All day. With no accidents. He had one at home but he was in the hall on his way to the bathroom so I cut him some slack. I am sad to say he’s still being a little shit – behaviour-wise – but his potty training is coming along just swimmingly.
Just letting you know:
Let me tell you how much this excites me. I’m excited!!
I took Isaac to the doctor on Monday because we missed his 4 month appointment. You know why? For one, when Ash made it, they didn’t give him a little card. And then, they never called to remind me. Which they ALWAYS do. So when I called them, suspicious about it, they’re like, “Oh yeah we have you down as a no-show.” Bastards. But anyway, his appointment went well. His head is nice and average, which is shocking because we think it’s huge. Like, Mastermind huge. He’s 25th percentile in height. And of course, a mere 5th percentile in weight. My children are just tiny, what can I say? Elliot was the same way. But I have started the boy on jar food. yesterday he had sweet potatoes and god, you’d think he was starving with the way he pulled the spoon into his mouth and gobbled down that entire jar. It was insane.
I just wrote myself a note and stuck it on my desk. It reads: Dear Self – Get to work!
- Say the title of this post in a deep echoey voice. Wasn’t that fun?
- I just left my office at 9 AM and ran to Borders to get this brand new book. Let me tell you how excited I am: >>EXTREME EXCITEMENT<<
- This means I am currently reading three books. I may be slightly overloaded here.
- So, Elliot, who just last week wailed and howled at the unholy *thought* of sitting on the potty, spent all yesterday in underwear and didn’t have one single accident. I can tell that everything is going to be on his terms only. The little brat…
- It was 62 effing degrees this morning! Suffice to say I did a little dance. Then bitched about all those leaves on my deck.
- We met up with some friends Saturday morning for breakfast and I realized, as I watched their daughter – who is only 8 days older than Isaac – that it was time he started eating more foods (other than those weird cereal flakes that get reconstituted into his milk). I gave him some mashed up banana and then jar apples before I remembered you’re supposed to start them on something less sweet first. How quickly you forget from one child to the next.
- Regardless of what anyone says, I really do love Judas Priest.
- Elliot is wearing his AC/DC shirt and shoes with the skulls on them to school today. His CHURCH preschool. There’s something rather satisfying about that. I’m going to hell, I know it.
- Check that out. Heh heh.
Ok, that’s enough. Hope y’all have a great Tuesday!
It is 8:31 AM. I am sitting poised at my keyboard, which creaks on its pull out tray. iTunes is shuffling its way through my partial work library. With only an inch of my iced latte left, I feel both satisfied and yearning for more caffeine at the same time. A stack of 24 freshmen essays awaits my scrutinizing eye. My blue ball-point pen is staring at me; it knows I’ll be employing its ink services in a matter of moments…when my motivation decides to show up.
Mornings are funny; you KNOW what needs to get done. You look forward to that sated feeling once everything is behind you. And yet, getting started is, perhaps, one of the most difficult tasks. Some days, I jump right in without so much as a thought. Other days, something propels me forward without my permission and once there, getting the work done just comes easily. I’ve always been a procrastinator. I have always rather run from problems than address them. If I let myself get too far behind, I get depressed, even though I have no one to blame but myself. I find distractions. I tool around with other things that I convince myself are important.
And all at once, something intangible rises up and I have some kind of magical courage to begin working. I make that phone call I’d been putting off because who wants to talk to people? I open that Word document and start editing. I log into my online class and face their endless questions. I may not want to but in about three or four hours I will be so thankful I got it all behind me.
I have so many things to do that I can’t get started on a single one.The weather was beautiful this morning; cool and dry. I almost got a hot latte instead of iced because it felt Fall-like. There are leaves on my deck. Dead ones. Fallen ones. It’s not *quite* Fall yet, trees. I’d thank you to stop junking up my deck. Elliot was coughing this morning. He’d better not get sick. My knee audibly pops now thanks to this ITB issue. Traffic blew this morning due to an accident. Everything felt weird as I drove to work. The only upside was that XM was playing an awesome slew of songs on my various stations: Def Leppard, then AC/DC and then Judas Priest.
Every night I tell myself I have to get on the elliptical. And then I do something else instead. Like read or watch something stupid on TV. Or fold clothes. I wrote a couple nights ago. In fact, two nights in a row. It feels very liberating to be writing right now. Maybe that sounds vague. It’s my only outlet since I haven’t got running. I take slight pleasure in my morning coffee. Music blaring once the kids have been dropped off. I am eagerly awaiting cold weather.
I think I gained two pounds back during my running hiatus. I want to buy more clothes. I’d rather be reading than doing work. My dogs annoy me. Isaac is going through a growth spurt and woke up at three this morning. Elliot will NOT use the potty. I will NOT make three different meals but lately, I haven’t wanted what Ash wants and Elliot won’t eat what either of us wants. I want someone to make food for me. I’d like a personal chef.
That was yesterday and oh, some days I feel like things are just falling apart. And then I berate myself for being so damned selfish. Isn’t it hard for everyone? I mean, I can’t possibly be the only mom who feels like the very fabric of her life is unraveling some days. Right? Anyway, we went to Outback last night and for the most part, the children behaved. And someone else cooked for me. And when we got home, Elliot said he had to go potty and even though he cried through every heartbreaking second of it, he finally managed to drop the crocs off at the pond. Thank the Lord Baby Jesus! The big breakthrough moment there being that he realized the need to go and then managed to accomplish said task. I’m SO ready to be on the road to stability with this thing. I’m ready to stop buying pull-ups AND overnight diapers (not even counting buying diapers for Isaac). Elliot’s a smart kid and I know he can get this. He just wants to fight it. He’s stubborn like his mommy and daddy…
…who argued this morning about my GD injury. Granted, I was looking for some excuse. I don’t know what to do to make it get better other than rest. But I told Ash that every time he says he’s lost another pound I want to take myself out back and end the misery. The pain is negligible when I am sitting but when I stand or walk or – god, take the stairs – it’s awful. Searing. Radiating. I have never really dealt with this kind of thing before and it’s taken its toll something fierce. After my anger and then the fact that Ash wouldn’t answer his phone (which was the lesson of, “I’ll talk to you when you’re calm”) I finally came to terms with the fact that I need to ice, take Ibuprofen, stretch, and use the elliptical. Time to get back on the horse and shut my yap; stop complaining.
I have two signs on a bulletin board behind my desk at work: “No Loafing” and “Don’t complain, just try harder.” Looks like it’s time to take my own damned advice.
You’ve heard people say that you can’t put your kid in a bubble. As in, you can’t always be there to protect them. And I see the value in setting them loose in the world and letting them experience all there is – both good and bad – so that they’re better prepared for adulthood. But there are times when something has to be done for the child’s own good. And that’s what went down yesterday/this morning.
Ash went in to get Elliot in the afternoon and as is usual, they were in the changing room. The teacher has 5 or so kids in there and they are usually playing or watching the small TV in the corner which has on Sesame Street or something. But the giant in their class – the one who has dislocated Elliot’s elbow and busted his nose – was being bad. The teacher punished him and when he got out of time-out, he shoved every kid in that class, even the other bully! My husband lost it. I mean, I’ve never seen him so seething. Because this child not only shoved the other kids but he did it with hatred and malicious intent. And it wasn’t a little tap but an all-out jam into a cabinet. Not like any ol’ rough-housing three year old.
Ash stewed about this all evening, all night, and then this morning, he decided we needed to have a talk with the daycare director. Now, the afternoon teacher mentioned that this was Big Kid’s last week anyway but Ash felt that Elliot shouldn’t have to be in with him for one day longer. So we had a sit-down (wherein I told Ash I wasn’t going to say anything) and the director fully understood where we’re coming from and will let Elliot be in another class for the rest of the week. I felt it was time to step in but now, I feel sorry for the other kids, having to deal with that child’s horrendous behaviour. He’s obviously learning the violence at home and it’s not good.
I didn’t want to be a part of it because Ash would eventually chastise me for something I said so I stayed quiet, even though I feel quite strongly about this. When Ell’s nose got busted, I told the director that I felt we didn’t have any recourse and it made me feel helpless. I told her I wanted them separated. But like all situations where there’s multiple parties and no clear lines, it sort of didn’t go anywhere. In a lot of ways, I am glad Ash stood up for this. He obviously loves our children, I never doubt that. But I liked his severe concern. He had every right to say something to her. I just wish this sort of thing didn’t happen in schools. I wish it didn’t make Ash and I argue. I wish Elliot could just stay away from the mean kids and grow up to be kind and forgiving. But that isn’t how the world works. And I guess we all have to learn that.
Yup, Random Tuesday again. You know you love it
- SO, I just finished reading a book in my office because I was that close to the end and thankfully, no one came by because I totally cried. <—-LAME.
- I lost to my BIL in fantasy football by 4 points. FOUR POINTS!
- In my other league, I beat a 19 year old boy whose handle is “Big Dick” by 30 points. Suck it!
- Like The UnMom herself, my son’s also seeing monsters. Perhaps toddlers do have an uncanny ability to predict a zombie apocalypse. And when it comes, have you chosen your weapon? Mwuhahaha. (I’m going with double axes myself)
- I am entering a vampire fiction contest. Wish me luck. It’s going to painful to finish what I have written but dammit, I want to win a Kindle.
- Neighbour watch 2010: She’s not dead. But when she resurfaced – back feeding the cats of course – she looked pretty beat down. That’s what sitting on your ass all day will do, I guess.
- Nine days ’til Bones, people. I don’t think you can fathom my excitement.
- Would you say this guy likes like he’d be named Aurelio?
- Ok, now as per Keely’s request, I am off to visit five other Random Tuesday bloggers. I suggest you do the same.
SO, potty training is by far one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to struggle through with Elliot. The biting phase lasted but a short time, as well as the 18 month old hitting phase. But this is so… trying. He cries, he whines, he doesn’t give a damn about bribes with candy or stickers or anything. But we had some success on Saturday. He went in the potty 5 out of the maybe 15 times I had him sit there. And one would think that if he did it once, then the next time he’d go willingly and know he could do it again. Nope. Same old crying and floor flopping as the previous time. The reason I’m so frustrated by this is because people keep saying I have to back off if he’s not ready. This would appear that he’s not ready.
He tells me everything about the situation. “I have to pee in the potty so I have go to the big boy class. And wear my Toy Story underwear. This is what big kids do.” And then he’ll say he has to go but when we get to the bathroom, it’s like a flip switches and he’s back to the howling in abject fear.
So yesterday we didn’t bother with underwear, just Pull-ups but we kept trying to get him to go. We prompted him and he always said no, I don’t have to go. Around 6:30 we were watching football and rough housing on the couch when Elliot started crying hysterically. Ash thought he broke a bone or something so in typical parent fashion we’re barraging him with “Are you ok?? What hurts?? Talk to us!!!” And then he calms for a second to say, “I have to go potty.” Finally, some kind of recognition. Like all things worth doing, this is difficult but we’ll get there. We really take using the bathroom for granted, don’t we?
Aside from the ongoing struggle of using the bathroom, he’s dealing with his first bout of real fear. Apparently he can’t sleep without the light on. Well, I shouldn’t sell him short; last night he was fine. But for the last week he’s been waking – I guess – in the night and turning on his lamp. In a lot of ways I feel sorry for him because if he’s scared, he’s not calling out to us so he’s dealing with it on his own. And to that end, good for him, you know? He tells us sometimes though that he won’t go into a certain room because of the monster but he’ll go with us and agree there’s nothing there. Then the next time, he’ll be just fine. I remember dealing with all those things as a kid and my heart goes out to him. How hard it is to grow up!
Since Monday was a day off, I didn’t mind so much that Isaac decided to be starving at 4 AM, whereas he’s been waking at around 6 for nearly 3 months now. Tuesday began our four day stint of no Isaac daycare (his sitter gets a few weeks vacation each year and whaddyaknow – it was this week.) Every. single. day this week began at 4 AM. Isaac woke crying because he was hungry and had rolled over, which is always amusing because he’s so fricken’ proud of the fact that he managed to flop his body back to front but then a few seconds later, he howls in anger at his inability to flip back over and/or hold his head up longer than 30 seconds. I can handle Isaac’s wakings, because if the baby is hungry, well, that’s just something I must accept. What I cannot tolerate is Elliot being up at 4 and refusing to go back to sleep. Or play. He just whines to watch TV even in the face of my blatant rejection. No, sir. No TV at 4 AM. That’s just irrational!
This morning, at least, he was up by 5 instead. And Ash took the reins and tried to calm him, get him back in bed and reading books. It’s a little ridiculous how much he fights back now when we tell him no. He used to easily give in or refuse half-assedly and then accept fate but lately, it’s all out flailing and screaming. Sadly, I am afraid he inherited my temper.
I can only hope that this phase will end soon. We’ve been trying to wear him our more and push his bedtime back ever so slightly, in hopes he’ll sleep just a tiny bit more in the morning. I can tell you this: 5 AM is not really a time I like to see if I’ve only gone to sleep at 12. My afternoons have been shit this week. Around 4 I start to get a searing headache and feel so groggy. It’s affected my attitude, that’s for sure. There’s only so much that coffee can do, you know? So here’s hoping that I can get some more sleep tomorrow. I’m going to need it; we’re going balls to the walls tomorrow on potty training. Lord help us all…