Category Archives: can I have a normal day

This Is The Speech I Want To Hear Someday

 

Like I’ve said before, there are times when doing the emperors bidding wears you down and makes you long for a two week vacation to Tahiti.

Il Duce was especially demanding today when his needs were not getting met within milliseconds of the request going out so it should  come as  no surprise that I’m wrapped up tightly  in a blanket on the second floor of my house typing quietly so he cannot find me using the powers of his super human ears.

Nobody told me there would be days like these. Strange days indeed.

Okay, so I’m being melodramatic but every once in a while I imagine that all the backbreaking work yields spectacular results and he goes supernova during adulthood.

Supernova enough to get mommy a beach house and a jet.

So it is with this in mind that I let myself pretend that I’m sitting in the back of a lavishly furnished hall filled to capacity while my son gives his retirement speech at 25 years of age after selling his gazillion dollar company to some shmuck who REALLY  wanted it.

*Tap* *Tap*

“Is this thing on?”

(muffled laughter)

 

Wow thank you Bill , for those kind words.

It was indeed four years ago that I came into this building through the creaky industrial metal front door. If I had known then what a roller coaster ride we were in for I might have turned tail and run my motherfucking ass RIGHT back out into the street but thankfully for all of us, I did NOT.

 Ignorance was bliss in those days and we forged ahead with this radical new plan, completely chuffed that we were getting a chance to spread this new groundbreaking technology throughout the world.

I’ll keep it brief but I do want to tell you how much I have appreciated some of the things that make this company so special – not just the business end of things but the people as well.

Comrades, I am leaving but I will be watching your mind-blowing progress with interest from afar. And by “afar” I mean the beach of an uncharted tropical island I’ve purchased.  I am certain you will all go on to achieve far better things than I did. If my legacy to you was time spent building this place up, your legacy to me is one of friendship, loyalty and promise.

I have just one final point to make – that is to thank the only person who is 100% responsible for everything I have achieved in my life, my beloved mother.

There were times that I drove her completely insane, screamed, yelled demanded of her and she never gave up on me. It is by some kind of divine intervention that she did not leave me on a highway overpass after four mind melding hours in traffic that I spent loudly mimicking  the noise  made by the creepy dead child from The Grudge.

I consider myself lucky to never have tasted the punishing tang of soap for the string of jaw dropping profanities that came so fast and furious out of my small mouth from the moment I could speak and the fact that I was never tied up outside on a dog leash to work off excess energy is a testament to her superior parenting.

Those threats I made to throw my siblings into a lava pit that I would purchase when I grew up and got rich were clearly never acted upon and I send my love to my sister and brother who couldn’t be here today.

So here’s to you mom and that sparkling new glass and steel structure I built you overlooking the clear crystal blue sea.

I now raise my glass to you and say farewell.

Get in! I'll drive you to my lava pit!

 

 

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Filed under am I doing anything right?, bad parenting, beach house, boys with serious attitude, can I have a normal day, difficult child, disasters, failure, il duce is five, inability to think on my feet

We’re Making Plans For Nigel

 

At some point I’m going to get a phone call from various defunct 80’s bands demanding some sort of restitution for all the titles I’ve stolen after a morning listening to Sirius XM’s First Wave.

I like to use the drive back from drop off to think about what needs to be done during the day and to formulate a plan of attack for whatever bizarre circumstances or unforseen disasters will fall in my lap thanks to my smallest child.

You see, despite the best laid plans and extensive help from all the most expensive professionals he still has some issues that prevent him from being ready for prime time.

Like the Saturday Night Live players but with less parody and more physical pratfalls.

So here I am, the grown up, struggling to hack my way through the thick brush surrounding the path back to normality for this kid.

Never have I been so confounded by another human being.

I lie in wait for the ramifications of each decision I’ve made on his behalf  dreading the large casualty laden explosion that is clearly imminent. Nothing is clear-cut and never have the stakes been so high.

Imagine if laid before you are a deck of a thousand cards and you must pick five or six to determine the path that someone takes at various important crossroads in their life.

Now take a look at the possible outcomes.

Steven Hawking or the Unibomber.

Churchill or Mussolini.

Yes, perhaps I’m exaggerating his potential but his propensity for extremes is legendary and being in his service for these long five years has taken its toll on the staff here.

It would be accurate to say we live in fear.

Fear of the next step.

Fear that the wrong choice will cause everything to go up in flames (don’t laugh, it’s happened)

Usually I have these things set up far in advance of the actual decision-making event but I happen to be in the middle of a long period of wait and see fence-sitting that’s really starting to hurt my ass.

And so, as I perch here and think about making plans for Nigel I’m still frozen with doubt and remorse over things I’ve not even done yet.

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Filed under adhd, am I doing anything right?, average is so much easier, bad parenting, behavior problems in kids, better skills, boys with serious attitude, can I have a normal day, crazy ramblings, delinquints, difficult child, difficult kids, discipline, failure, fight or flight response, foul language in preschool, four year old love, getting it together, here we go, I have 3, I have HOW many kids?, I'm not as effective in a bad situation as I thought I would be, I'm all over the map, il duce is five, It's embarassing when you suck at something, keep the expectations low okay?, kids, kids and parenting, kids that don't fit the mold, kids that like cursewords, kids with warped minds, kindergarten options

The Horrifying Incident Involving the Boy, His Mouth, a 44 Minute Wait on Line, The Word Vagina and Fifty Scandalized, Hungry Patrons

Hey, remember me?

Super freewheeling summertime girl with the wind in her hair, not a care in the world and the family that looked like it jumped off the J. Crew end of summer catalog?

 Yeah, well she shriveled up into a ball and fucking vaporized in a puff of smoke this evening while trying to exert what little parental authority she was still clinging to during a mortifying incident at the jam-packed Friendship Heights Chipotle.

The scene opens with a sun-kissed, seemingly relaxed mother and her cute tanned energetic child engaging in playful banter  and games to bide the time at the end of a very long slow-moving line.

Area power outages have taken out the restaurant computer system and they seem to be processing transactions on some sort of Fred Flintstone rock and chisel credit card contraption.

Mother: Sam, get off the ledge, you might fall.

Sam: This line is long and I’m going to cut it. Let’s walk up there and just give the stupid order. This is terrible AND boring.

Mother: I know, but all these people are waiting just like us so that’s not fair.

Sam: Life is not fair. You say that to your kids all the time so I’m saying it to you now. (sing songy voice) Gonna drive my steamroller over all these stupid people and make them flat, then I’m gonna walk right over them and get my rice, la, la, la…

Mother: Sam! That’s not nice. Stop.

Sam: (under breath) It’s what we really need to do. Make pancake people and less line.

Fifteen more agonizing minutes pass with the levels of buffoonery increasing exponentially.

Mother: (sensing danger) Sam, you want me to pick you up?

Sam: (smiling) sure!

Sam: Hey, I can see your boobs from up here!

Mother: Okay, it’s time for me to put you down now.

Sam: (now rolling on the concrete floor and swatting at the bottom of his mothers sundress) Hey! I can see your vagina if I lift up your dress right?  Gavan taught me that girls penises are called vaginas! You have a vagina (then looking around and pointing to the surrounding women) and you have one, and you too. All ladies do!

Mother smashes her hand over Sam’s mouth

Sam: HEY! mrphh, machina, shtop, I CNTBREAFFFF!!!!!!!!

Mother: Shut it or you will NOT get a Mr. Pibb you fucking deviant animal, hiss.

Mother: (to employee) yea, I’d like three chicken…

Sam: VAGINAS!!!!

Mother: Burritos and one..

Sam: Lady vaginas! We want lady vagina on our burritos.

Mother: (covering Sam’s mouth with the iron force of a thousand livid parents) Just give me four burritos!

Employee:(quizzical look, cartoon question mark over head) burritos?

Mother: YES! Four of them, please hurry for the love of Christ!

Sam: (tearing at his mother’s fingers) pah chinas!!!!!

Mother: throwing cash at the checkout girl) QUICKLY! These four and a small Dr. Pibb.

Sam: Mr. Pibb doesn’t have a vagina cause he’s a boy and he’s got a penis. Mom, don’t you wish you could pee standing up?

Mother: no.

Defeated, she leaves the Chipotle with her head hanging in shame and her small son singing a remarkably catchy song about penises and why they are much more fun than vaginas.

Fade to black, end scene.

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Filed under Adventure, adversity, am I doing anything right?, bad parenting, buffoonery, can I have a normal day, delinquints, difficult kids, disasters

Things are Not as They Appear.

This Sunday I had myself a true Judas Iscariot moment.

I denied knowing my own children at the grocery store.

Then I stopped after reading that last line and asked myself  “Hey girl who spent her whole life chained to a pew in parochial school! WHO was it now that denied Jesus three times?” “Why YES you moron that would be Peter.”

Judas sounds so much more theatrical though, so I’m keeping it even thought it is not historically accurate.

While waiting patiently in the checkout line my two boys began to act a little squirrely.

They were redirected to the front of the store near the exits brought there by my beleaguered mother who was lacking her usual sharp tongue and was hanging there like a limp dishrag due to a debilitating migraine.

 This means that the boys were running in circles, screaming about having a girlfriend, punching each other, jumping off the bench my mother was passing out on, smashing the video machine with the dollar rentals and accosting the automatic lotto dispenser.

Two über uptight couples with pursed thin lips were starting to shake their heads in disbelief and exchanging disgusted looks with each other at the volume and sheer audacity of the two unruly boys and their comatose caretaker.

“So rude and disrespectful” noted one.

“Why isn’t she doing anything to control them?” asked the other.

Then Il Duce let loose with a rank profanity followed by a roaring hysterical cackle and I watched them gasp with horror.

They were truly disgusted.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!” they croaked, looking at me.

I thought for a moment. There were thousands of ways I could go here but I opted for betrayal.

“I know!” I commiserated, as I lugged the rest of my fresh produce onto the belt.

I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I know I should have but it was just so much easier to cut and run regarding knowing this lot than to try to explain them to someone who wouldn’t care.

After scooping my mother up off the bench and driving her back home so she could suffer her mind exploding agony alone on her couch I spoke briefly to the boys about minding their behavior in public. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as they were both fast asleep in the back.

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Filed under 1, adversity, am I doing anything right?, bad manners, bad parenting, being shallow and crass, boys with serious attitude, buffoonery, can I have a normal day, cowards, crazy ramblings, disasters, discipline, giving up, I complain too much, I don't know how to end a blog post, i don't like mondays, i love kids, I REALLY DO, I'm not as effective in a bad situation as I thought I would be, kids, kids and parenting, kids that like cursewords, random observations

Superpower Summit

Hey, at least my kid didn't destroy Tokyo....yet

Well ladies and gentlemen, yesterday all the players converged in one small conference room with all their thick reports and strange customs to talk about the big issue. Il Duce.
What this boiled down to was lots of advice, tons of useless jibber jabber, and ultimately, a woman wearing an honest to god Kate Gosselin coif telling me my son was the antichrist.
Because I was having a hard time not being distracted by her hair (did she ask for that cut on purpose?) I began to wonder if some of my sons attention issues were inherited directly from me. 

The list of infractions was long but not suprising including things like stopping others at the threshold and screaming “no  ticket, no entry” and “I am an Imperial Guard, you may not pass”.  They did however confirm some of the sensory and executive function issues we had pretty much known about for ages and  made some useful suggestions for OT and behavior modification. 

Honestly, I preferred the  warm less abrasive style of the nice lady that looked like my aunt Marion so I was  leaning a little bit more toward her rather than the “shock and awe” approach of Kate Gosselin who gave a jarring stream of conciousness tirade of “ten minutes in the life” where she never failed to show her disdain for the tiny classroom monarch. When we asked if she, as a behaviorist, would help train a shadow to assist in the classroom she immediately talked about how she was “far too busy”. 

They ended the session with a shameless book plug (yes, these two penned a book and they mentioned that it was on sale at Amazon!) and a handshake while we were left to sort through two massive reports, an endless list of specialists (none of whom, I found, are taking any new patients) and the cold sweats about the effect this is going to have on our bank account. 

Now comes the long expensive road toward getting this kid the RIGHT kind of help.

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Filed under 1, adhd, can I have a normal day, executive function, meeting with the big guns, meetings and bad news, reasons why I need a vacation, your kid is superbad