Category Archives: The Kid, and The Other Kids.

Proud Moments in Parenting

Todays proud parenting moment is brought to you by Laundry and the Letter V.

If you aren’t cool/stalkerish enough to Follow me on Facebook, here’s what you missed:
(Paraphrased and embellished for entertainments sake.)

Me: “One of my kids just managed to trap herself in the laundry hamper. And, no, it wasn’t the baby”

Husband: “I have no children”

12 Random Friends: “Like!”

5 Other Random Friends: “LOL!” (Glad it wasn’t MY kid!)*

Kid in Question: im rite here!

Me: Dear Child, If you don’t learn to spell “Right” correctly, I’ll lock you back in the hamper.

More Random Friends: “Like!” “LOL!”

Husband: Please take pictures for future blackmail use.

Me: I just totally grammarnazi’d my seven year old.

This is parenting at its finest, people.

*Ok, so they didn’t actually SAY this, but you KNOW they thought it.

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Filed under Snark, The Kid, and The Other Kids.

Tomorrow… Part Two.

I’d like to think of it as a testament to my parenting skills that I have managed to stay away from blogging while my kids have been here, but really, I just haven’t had the time to spare.

Tomorrow, they leave again, and while saying goodbye to my children always rips out a little piece of my heart and stomps on it, re-opens old wounds that never really close, and generally feels incredibly awful all around, I must admit, I could use a nap. And a few Valium.

This experience has been many things, but humbling is the probably the first word that comes to mind.  The ex-in-laws had cautioned me that it was going to be “tough,” and that the kids were “anxious”.

How hard could it be? I thought. These are my kids, and even if I haven’t seen them in over a year and a half, really, how hard could it be? I am their mom.  It’s like instinct. Right?

Well, Um. No. I was wrong. Especially when one kid comes with a whole built in set of issues due to her Asperger’s that I was completely unprepared for.

I’m not saying I didn’t figure it out, (Around yesterday at 3pm, approximately)

Or that I didn’t have some wonderful times with my girls. I did. There was plenty of good times and blurred giggling.

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But, it was hard. A whole new kind of hard, compounded by the fact that I’m  seven months pregnant, and permanantly ill and … well.. cranky.

I had days where I screamed at them. And days where I locked myself in my room and cried.  Part of me is ashamed to admit out loud, that I had days where I thought I couldn’t handle my own kids. The only reason I am, frankly, is because I know, know, that I am not the only one who has felt like that.

We all get overwhelmed. Granted, my situation is very different than most, but sometimes, we all want to scream and cry and we all feel like failures for some reason or another.

And sometimes we give in, and vent, and then we go back out and do the best we can with what we have.

So here’s to doing it all over again.

More later, after the goodbyes.

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Tomorrow

Yes, tomorrow, after a year and  8 months,  I get to see my girls! This is the first time they will be visiting me here. I can’t freaking wait. I mean, yeah, I am full of all sorts of paralyzing fears emotions and such, but mostly I am excited.

In other news, I know everyone wants belly pics and ultrasound shots, but seriously, I am gigantic and camera shy right now, and I feel a little weird about posting pictures that all seem to have arrows directed at my son’s genitalia.

Wow, my son.  Sounds weird.  I am going to have a son.

Um, anyway.  Ill try to find some non genital pointing pics to post, and perhaps a belly shot, though don’t plan on seeing my face until this kid is oh, 6 months old or so.  (For some reason that’s where I tend to gain weight when pregnant, don’t ask me why. Yes, besides the scary gihugantic belly of doom. )

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Twelve days and counting

“How soon until my sisters get here, Mommy?” Asks the kid.

“Twelve days.”

Holy shit. Twelve days. I can’t help but feel a surge of joy (and a drop of panic) at this news. I can’t wait.  It has been one year and six months since I have seen them last. And in twelve days, they will be here. Here. For three whole weeks! This is the longest stretch I have had them since the divorce.

And every time I see them, it is wonderful, absolutely, but also the most emotionally explosive thing I have ever had to deal with. Every time they come back to me, we have to relearn each other, for we have again become relative strangers while we passed the years apart.And we do, but it takes time, and its tenuous.  And then I have to leave them all over again. Every time. Without a promise of when we will meet again. Sometimes I wonder if it does more damage than good. My heart is harder, but they, they are young and fragile. And the voice inside my head constantly plagues me with doubts and worries. You know the one. It never, ever shuts up.

But what if he doesn’t send them? It asks.

Shut up little voice. I say. He already told them they were coming. Even he is not that cruel.

…” Says the little voice.

Shut up, little voice. I repeat. Like a mantra.

What if they hate me this time? What if they hate The Kid?

They won’t. I say, trying to sound sure. Also: Shut up.

…Hey! What if he doesn’t pick them up? The voice ponders.

Sigh.

Has anyone out there invented a time accelerator yet?

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Random Mom Thoughts

So, I had this whole depressing post lined up to auto-post today. It was actually meant for yesterday, because I have sort-of arbitrarily decided that Wednesdays are now going to be “Depressing Wednesdays”, and therefore the only day I allow myself to talk about the crappy crap. Though, the post will probably go up tomorrow, or over the weekend, or maybe even later today, because If I wait until next week, it will be too late. That’ll make sense later. Also, I have a few announcements coming up too, so stay tuned.

Anyway, since like a zillion and twelve new people stopped by yesterday for the “Gap Can Suck It” post, and the solidarity of us moms V.S. Stupid T-Shirt makers, has put me in an awesome mood, I decided to go with something a little less morbid.

Which, well, gets you a completely random stream of conciousness rambling, apparently.

I had this parenting epiphany this morning. Some people, they can’t wait, absolutely can not wait until their children can talk. Or walk. Or play video games. You know what I can’t wait for?

Her to be able to do her own hair.

As I’ve maybe mentioned, I’m so not a girly-girl. I hate, hate hate hate doing hair.  My own hair, is generally washed, brushed and then tied in a knot. Where it stays, until I untie it a day later to rinse and repeat. Literally.

No matter how much I mess with her hair, no matter what product or clip or accessory I use, it looks like crap in 4.2 seconds flat every time.  And her hair is so thin and wispy, it just pulls out of any hair-tie immediately. And ends up looking rather like a bird’s nest. Look, she even made birds for it. (Butterflies too, because all the animals live in harmony in this kid’s head)

My superhero. With famous sidekick, Super Chihuahua.

No that you can tell there, but the kid’s hair is down to her butt. And I really don’t want to cut it, because it’s beautiful and awesome. But I also don’t want it to look like crap all of the time. So: Help!

(Yes, that is the aforementioned “Dinosaurs are People Too” shirt from Target, in case you were wondering. Which reminds me: Must go check out Kohl’s boy’s shirts.)

~~

The other day, she jumped in the car, after school and announced proudly:

“I’ve decided what I am going to be when I grow up!”

Me, warily: “Oh?”

Her: “A super-jaguar.”

Me: “Hmmn. What made you decide this?”

Her: “Because I want to save people, and also, fight. Hiiiiii ya!”

Me: ” That’s my girl.”

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Filed under Rants, Rambling, and Musing., The Kid, and The Other Kids.

Things fall apart

Last night, I wrote a very long post, about my children. It was one of those things I needed to write, but that I probably do not need to post.

You see, I’ve recently had another,  let down crushing defeat. I got my hopes up that someone was going to be able to help me, that something was going to get done. And then had those hopes crushed.

And, if you can’t tell from my writing lately, I just can’t handle it any more. I know, it sounds incredibly selfish, but it’s the truth.

I love them, so very much. I miss them with all of my being, and my soul, well, my soul is always going to have this hole in it. Even if, 10 years from now (provided I’m alive then) we are finally over this and have a relationship, this will always be there. I have missed five years, five years of their lives. And counting. Nothing is ever, ever going to make up for that. Nothing is ever going to give us that time back.

Now, his mother is claiming the youngest has Reactive Attachment Disorder, (which, frankly, I doubt for many reasons, but that’s a different rant entirely.) They also claim she has ADHD. And that this is all somehow my fault. (Of course) Um, she wasn’t broken when I left her with you people. And yes, losing a parent from their lives at a young age, can cause problems, but fuck… Don’t you get it?

It didn’t have to be this way. It doesn’t have to be this way, and these people, well, they make me sick. How can they not see that what they are doing is so wrong? Everything they do makes it worse for those kids. They don’t give a fuck what is best for them, they just care about having control.

These kids are visibly suffering because I am not allowed to be in their lives. How can they not see this? They just want to keep throwing blame on everyone but themselves, instead of trying to, oh, I don’t know, fix the problem. (And, I’m not saying I’m blameless in this, I will be the first to admit I’ve made mistakes, but I have taken responsibility for those mistakes and I live with the consequences of them every fucking second of my life.)

Don’t you think, that if they cared for those kids half as much as they claim to, they would be working with me to find a way for this to work, to find a way to help make this easier on them. Putting their needs first. Instead of lying about everything under the sun, calling me names and telling me what a fucking failure I am while simultaneously destroying the lives of two children. If it were you, and your child was having problems and missing one of their parents, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to fix it?

I left him, not them, and him and his mother need to get over this fucking petty ridiculous bullshit and step the fuck up and do what is BEST for these kids. How can they not realize how much more damage they are doing by wallowing in their hate and self-rightousness?

So, um, yeah, you can see why I shied away from posting a whole long post about the girls and what is going on with them. (Hmmn, wait…)

Nothing I do makes a difference. And I simply can not think about it every second of every day. I will fucking lose it. Selfish, maybe, but I’m also thinking of the family I do have. They need me sane. I will probably write about it here from time to time, because, I need a place to vent. I need to get it out, because otherwise it will eat me alive.

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Filed under The Kid, and The Other Kids., Things That Suck

To My Children:

I love you. That will always be true.  All of you.

I know that this is so very hard sometimes, and I know that you don’t really understand why I am not there, or why you can’t see your sister.

The truth is, I don’t understand it either.

There are days,  where I want to give up.  When it overwhelms me. When I go over and over and over again everything in my mind, wishing I could go back and do things another way, wishing something would give already.

Not a second goes by where I don’t see the way things should be. When I’m with her, I see the place where you both should be. There is this emptiness in me where my children belong, and, I’m sure, a hole in you where your Mother belongs.

The fact that I can’t stop this, that I can’t change this, that I can’t seem to make this right, no matter what I do, well, it kills me.

Sometimes, I admit, I want to hide from it. I want to make it all go away.  Sometimes I can’t even bear to think about it, or talk about it. Sometimes, I am a coward, and I can’t face the pain, and I put it down. And then I realize that that’s not fair to you, so I pick it back up again. Because this isn’t about me, not really.

And then I get angry.  I get angry at them, for making this so much worse for you than it has to be. They could fix this all with a word, they could do the right thing, they could make this better for you. And sometimes I rage for awhile.

But I have to admit,  I’m mostly angry at me. Because I should be able to do something. Moms are supposed to be able to fix things. And no matter what I do, it seems like this will never end. This is something I just can’t seem to fix. I don’t have what it takes to be able to fix this. And I hate myself for it.

But still I try.

And I need you to know just how much I have tried. I need you to know that I didn’t abandon you. I didn’t give up. No matter what they say, this was never how things were meant to be. And someday, somehow, things will be right. I promise.

But for now… I love you. And I’m sorry.

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Filed under The Kid, and The Other Kids., Things That Suck