We were driving home from Christmas shopping, just me and Mae. We were excited and exhausted. I looked in the rear view mirror to see Mae staring thoughtfully out her window, pondering away as she is so accustomed to doing. I saw an idea spark in her eyes and she suddenly sat straight up (as opposed to her previous slunched-over postural position) and asked, "Mom? Who decided that God gets to be God?" I told her that I'd had that exact same thought many times. She then asked, "And HOW did he get way up in the clouds before there were planes?" I laughed but didn't respond. She sat back and looked out her window again. I figured she had already moved on to new and different thoughts and wonderments.
After a few minutes, she again shot upright, this time with a touch of wild in her eyes. She exclaimed, "I KNOW!!!" I asked, "Know what?" And she said, "I know how he got up there. God. In the clouds." I asked, "Oh...how?" She explained, "Well, he's SO old, right? So he must be SO old that he was here before gravity, just floating around and going wherever he wanted. And one day he must have been in the clouds and that's when gravity showed up. So he fell onto a cloud and he's been stuck up there ever since."
Mae crossed her arms, nodded her head and sat back looking quite pleased with herself. She then moved on to new and different thoughts, having conquered her own confusion.
I really like her way of thinking.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
The fat Alpha Dog
It seems that I have taken a long and unexpected break from my blog. Vegas will do that to you. Somehow, I was the sole person in all of Nevada with no internet access. I'm still not sure why that happened. And as much as I'd love to blog about the time I spent there, I can't. The slogan says so.
It's good to be home. I missed my kids, my house, my dogs, my cats...and my PILLOW. I've never been a fan of the smothering pillows piled across the beds at hotels. No matter which way I lay, I can't seem to breathe and that just so happens to be very necessary. And to let my pillow know just how happy I was to be home, I gave it a good hug and then slept like the dead for twelve hours straight. Vegas will do that to you, too.
Kenny is pretty darn proud of the ten pounds he gained while away. It is the most weight he has gained in all the years I've known him, including the six months he added weight-gainer milkshakes to two meals per day. Yeah, I know...poor guy. He is putting in great effort to ensure the weight stays with him by spending much idle time on the couch with a collage of potato chips, lil' smokies and Nutrageous bars on his lap. I, on the other hand, gained an equal amount of weight so while he is sitting on the couch coveting his new found fat (which is really just a slightly swelled six-pack), I am running and sweating and crying and dying on the treadmill, regretting every last calorie of last week's margaritas and endless buffets.
Settling back into normal life, Mae asked me sweetly if I would paint her left-handed fingernails today. I agreed. As I touched the polish brush to the first nail, she jumped back and screamed, "OOOUuuuuCHHH!!! She gave me a very stern look and told me to be more careful. While stunned, I agreed, though I had no idea what I'd done to hurt her. So I slowly and gently pressed the brush to her nail again...and AGAIN she jumped back and yelled, "OW!! MOM!!! WHY DO YOU KEEP HURTING ME?!!" I was completely baffled. I apologized profusely and told her that I didn't mean to hurt her and if she'd just tell me how I was hurting her, I'd make sure it didn't happen again. She said, "Well, it BETTER not." And then, she smiled just a little and said very quietly, "Man, you can never tell when I'm joking." She was SO pleased with herself.
The neighbors' dogs have been spending a great deal of time in our yard this week. Since I am not a fan of german shepards, I have basically not left the house. Common sense would tell me to just release our dogs outdoors to 'take care of the situation', but not me. No. Instead, I release the Kenny. It is much more entertaining. He runs after them, barking and growling. He even chased one around the entire pond a couple days ago. I sat in the window with a bag of popcorn and enjoyed every second of it. And he gets the job done. Those dogs go right home...except the one that was so terrified of him that she couldn't find her way home, so she went and sat outside of the gate for the duration of the day. Kenny has officially claimed his spot as 'Alpha Dog' in our strange little country neighborhood. Add that to his new fat and he's a pretty happy camper these days.
And that's about it. I have too many thoughts in my head that have yet to be un-jumbled so until that happens, I'll just call it good.
It's good to be home. I missed my kids, my house, my dogs, my cats...and my PILLOW. I've never been a fan of the smothering pillows piled across the beds at hotels. No matter which way I lay, I can't seem to breathe and that just so happens to be very necessary. And to let my pillow know just how happy I was to be home, I gave it a good hug and then slept like the dead for twelve hours straight. Vegas will do that to you, too.
Kenny is pretty darn proud of the ten pounds he gained while away. It is the most weight he has gained in all the years I've known him, including the six months he added weight-gainer milkshakes to two meals per day. Yeah, I know...poor guy. He is putting in great effort to ensure the weight stays with him by spending much idle time on the couch with a collage of potato chips, lil' smokies and Nutrageous bars on his lap. I, on the other hand, gained an equal amount of weight so while he is sitting on the couch coveting his new found fat (which is really just a slightly swelled six-pack), I am running and sweating and crying and dying on the treadmill, regretting every last calorie of last week's margaritas and endless buffets.
Settling back into normal life, Mae asked me sweetly if I would paint her left-handed fingernails today. I agreed. As I touched the polish brush to the first nail, she jumped back and screamed, "OOOUuuuuCHHH!!! She gave me a very stern look and told me to be more careful. While stunned, I agreed, though I had no idea what I'd done to hurt her. So I slowly and gently pressed the brush to her nail again...and AGAIN she jumped back and yelled, "OW!! MOM!!! WHY DO YOU KEEP HURTING ME?!!" I was completely baffled. I apologized profusely and told her that I didn't mean to hurt her and if she'd just tell me how I was hurting her, I'd make sure it didn't happen again. She said, "Well, it BETTER not." And then, she smiled just a little and said very quietly, "Man, you can never tell when I'm joking." She was SO pleased with herself.
The neighbors' dogs have been spending a great deal of time in our yard this week. Since I am not a fan of german shepards, I have basically not left the house. Common sense would tell me to just release our dogs outdoors to 'take care of the situation', but not me. No. Instead, I release the Kenny. It is much more entertaining. He runs after them, barking and growling. He even chased one around the entire pond a couple days ago. I sat in the window with a bag of popcorn and enjoyed every second of it. And he gets the job done. Those dogs go right home...except the one that was so terrified of him that she couldn't find her way home, so she went and sat outside of the gate for the duration of the day. Kenny has officially claimed his spot as 'Alpha Dog' in our strange little country neighborhood. Add that to his new fat and he's a pretty happy camper these days.
And that's about it. I have too many thoughts in my head that have yet to be un-jumbled so until that happens, I'll just call it good.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
My children: polar opposites
Kyler and Mae wake up at the exact same time.
Kyler feeds his cats and gets dressed before he even leaves his bedroom. Mae mosies out of her room, wiping her eyes and yawning. She fills the dog's water dish and spills at least half of it across the kitchen floor. She feeds the dogs, also spilling at least half of their food across the kitchen floor.
Kyler and Mae get ready for breakfast. Kyler pours a bowl of cereal, adds milk, grabs a spoon and starts eating. Mae sits down and in a whiny voice inquires, "Mom, what can I eat?" I'm prepared for this and I answer, "We have three different kinds of cereal and two kinds of oatmeal. You can make eggs. You can make toast. You can make eggs and toast together. You can have a bagel or you can even make a sandwich." She yawns again and says, "That's ALL?" As Kyler's rinsing his bowl, she finally decides on cereal.
Kyler brushes his teeth, puts on his glasses and checks his backpack to ensure he has everything he needs while Mae is eating breakfast. She finishes and exits the kitchen, leaving her milk-filled bowl sitting at the table.
Kyler pulls on his socks and his shoes, then tells me he's going to read a book for thirty minutes. Noticing the unusual silence, I walk into Mae's room to find her changing her doll's diaper. She's still in her jammies. I tell her she has thirty minutes until we leave and she should probably think about getting dressed. She fires back with, "I don't have ANYTHING to wear." I look toward her dresser filled with drawers of stretchy pants, jeans, skirts and skorts. I then look toward her closet where multiple dresses and at least twenty shirts hang. She notices this and says, "Well, I don't have anything I WANT to wear."
I go back to my desk to work and about five minutes pass before Mae yells from her room, "Mom, I need you to get something off of the top of my wardrobe that I can't reach." I ask her if it's something she plans on wearing because all she needs to focus on at this time is getting dressed. She replies with a simple, "Yes." So, I go into her bedroom once again. I see no clothing on her wardrobe so I ask what I'm supposed to retrieve for her and she says, "My Magic 8 Ball." I say, "You told me it was something you were wearing," and she says, "Well, it's going to tell me what to wear." I roll my eyes and hand her the Magic 8 Ball. She says, "Is my mom a big, giant turd?", then she shakes the ball and says, "Yes, it is certain!! Mom, you are! I KNEW it!!"
I go back to my desk. About ten minutes later, Mae comes out of her bedroom and by some sort of Thursday miracle, she is dressed. I tell her, "Now brush your hair and brush your teeth," and she puts her elbows on my desk and her hands under her chin and says, "Tell me about the day I was born." I give her a look and she decides she better just listen this time, so she heads for the bathroom, though all hunched over and dragging her feet.
It is almost time to go now so I tell Mae that she needs to check her backpack and put on her shoes, socks and jacket. She completely ignores me, looks at Kyler and says, "Kyler, you NERD, are you actually reading in the MORNING?!" Kyler's maturity level exceeds even my own, so he just ignores her and continues his reading. Seeing that she cannot get a fight out of him, she decides that now is a good time to stare in awe at her new ant farm. After a very long moment, I tell her, "Backpack, shoes, socks, jacket. Now." She says, "I tried to eat an ant once when I was little. It was a black one. I never told you about it." I set her backpack, shoes, socks and jacket right next to her and give her a one-minute warning.
Kyler now has bookmarked his spot in his book and is fully ready and waiting to walk out the door. Mae slowly pulls her socks on, complaining that they are not the ones she planned to wear today (yeah, like I'd ever believe that she PLANNED something) and as Kyler and I stand there watching her, she says, "What're you guys staring at?!"
We finally make it out to the Jeep, get inside, start driving and Mae says, "Mom, I forgot my assignment book!" I slam on the brakes and she runs inside to get it. We start the leaving process over. Halfway down the driveway, Mae says, "Mom, I forgot my homework!" I slam on the brakes again and let out a long sigh and say, "You've GOT to be kidding me!" I put the Jeep in reverse and start backing up when Mae says, "Yeah, I am. I didn't even have homework. You should know that."
Every morning that we make it to the bus stop before (or at the same time as) the bus, I am amazed. I wonder if the bus driver knows just exactly what it takes to make this happen. We're almost always somehow on time, so he probably has no idea that each and every school morning is a roller coaster for us. Are there other 'Mae's' out there? Do other parents deal with this constant morning drama every single day? I'd like to know. Maybe we could start a support group. PORFF: Parents Of Refusing and Resistant Children. We'll meet in secret and work on our coping techniques together.
Kyler feeds his cats and gets dressed before he even leaves his bedroom. Mae mosies out of her room, wiping her eyes and yawning. She fills the dog's water dish and spills at least half of it across the kitchen floor. She feeds the dogs, also spilling at least half of their food across the kitchen floor.
Kyler and Mae get ready for breakfast. Kyler pours a bowl of cereal, adds milk, grabs a spoon and starts eating. Mae sits down and in a whiny voice inquires, "Mom, what can I eat?" I'm prepared for this and I answer, "We have three different kinds of cereal and two kinds of oatmeal. You can make eggs. You can make toast. You can make eggs and toast together. You can have a bagel or you can even make a sandwich." She yawns again and says, "That's ALL?" As Kyler's rinsing his bowl, she finally decides on cereal.
Kyler brushes his teeth, puts on his glasses and checks his backpack to ensure he has everything he needs while Mae is eating breakfast. She finishes and exits the kitchen, leaving her milk-filled bowl sitting at the table.
Kyler pulls on his socks and his shoes, then tells me he's going to read a book for thirty minutes. Noticing the unusual silence, I walk into Mae's room to find her changing her doll's diaper. She's still in her jammies. I tell her she has thirty minutes until we leave and she should probably think about getting dressed. She fires back with, "I don't have ANYTHING to wear." I look toward her dresser filled with drawers of stretchy pants, jeans, skirts and skorts. I then look toward her closet where multiple dresses and at least twenty shirts hang. She notices this and says, "Well, I don't have anything I WANT to wear."
I go back to my desk to work and about five minutes pass before Mae yells from her room, "Mom, I need you to get something off of the top of my wardrobe that I can't reach." I ask her if it's something she plans on wearing because all she needs to focus on at this time is getting dressed. She replies with a simple, "Yes." So, I go into her bedroom once again. I see no clothing on her wardrobe so I ask what I'm supposed to retrieve for her and she says, "My Magic 8 Ball." I say, "You told me it was something you were wearing," and she says, "Well, it's going to tell me what to wear." I roll my eyes and hand her the Magic 8 Ball. She says, "Is my mom a big, giant turd?", then she shakes the ball and says, "Yes, it is certain!! Mom, you are! I KNEW it!!"
I go back to my desk. About ten minutes later, Mae comes out of her bedroom and by some sort of Thursday miracle, she is dressed. I tell her, "Now brush your hair and brush your teeth," and she puts her elbows on my desk and her hands under her chin and says, "Tell me about the day I was born." I give her a look and she decides she better just listen this time, so she heads for the bathroom, though all hunched over and dragging her feet.
It is almost time to go now so I tell Mae that she needs to check her backpack and put on her shoes, socks and jacket. She completely ignores me, looks at Kyler and says, "Kyler, you NERD, are you actually reading in the MORNING?!" Kyler's maturity level exceeds even my own, so he just ignores her and continues his reading. Seeing that she cannot get a fight out of him, she decides that now is a good time to stare in awe at her new ant farm. After a very long moment, I tell her, "Backpack, shoes, socks, jacket. Now." She says, "I tried to eat an ant once when I was little. It was a black one. I never told you about it." I set her backpack, shoes, socks and jacket right next to her and give her a one-minute warning.
Kyler now has bookmarked his spot in his book and is fully ready and waiting to walk out the door. Mae slowly pulls her socks on, complaining that they are not the ones she planned to wear today (yeah, like I'd ever believe that she PLANNED something) and as Kyler and I stand there watching her, she says, "What're you guys staring at?!"
We finally make it out to the Jeep, get inside, start driving and Mae says, "Mom, I forgot my assignment book!" I slam on the brakes and she runs inside to get it. We start the leaving process over. Halfway down the driveway, Mae says, "Mom, I forgot my homework!" I slam on the brakes again and let out a long sigh and say, "You've GOT to be kidding me!" I put the Jeep in reverse and start backing up when Mae says, "Yeah, I am. I didn't even have homework. You should know that."
Every morning that we make it to the bus stop before (or at the same time as) the bus, I am amazed. I wonder if the bus driver knows just exactly what it takes to make this happen. We're almost always somehow on time, so he probably has no idea that each and every school morning is a roller coaster for us. Are there other 'Mae's' out there? Do other parents deal with this constant morning drama every single day? I'd like to know. Maybe we could start a support group. PORFF: Parents Of Refusing and Resistant Children. We'll meet in secret and work on our coping techniques together.
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