Archive | April 2013

I Should Have Stayed in Bed

Warning: Profanity

Today was one of those days.  There are days when you just know…Just feel it in the air when you wake up, that it’s going to be a bad day.  

Jacob was confrontational from the moment he opened his eyes this morning and has made it very difficult to like him today.  Normally, he does well with explanations of why things have to be done, when they have to be done and how they have to be done.  Today? Forget it! Asking him to pick up his clothes turned into a shouting match.

To make matters worse, I got very little sleep due to anxiety that I have been tackling this week and I woke up grumpy. Every time Jacob tried to talk to me, it was all I could do to keep from verbally smacking him and I wasn’t doing a very good job.  My sarcasm and anger got the best of me and I managed to piss him off quite a few times.  I know that it’s not exactly a smart idea to say things like, “What the hell do you care, Jacob?  I’ve tried to explain things and you go off on a tangent about something else!  Why should I bother answering your questions?” but I did anyway.

Take it from me that it’s never good to try and discipline your child–who insists on swearing like a sailorto respond in ‘expletive speak’. Let me explain.  The last couple of admittedly, poorly chosen movies have been laced with “Fuck” and “Mother Fucker”, among a few others.  I say the F word all the time but I draw the line at the MF and a few other choice nastiness.  Sometimes, there is just no substitute for Fuck.  Stubbing your toe (and I do that quite often cos I’m a klutz) and trying to remember to say, “Oh fudge, that smarts!” won’t cut it.  A simple expletive like “Fuck” gets the job done quick and eases the pain, albeit topically.

Anyway, Jacob has decided to get under my skin by repeating the nasty words that I hate. He knows I hate them so when he is angry at me, he’ll swear. His excuse? “Well if you didn’t want me to swear, you never should have sworn in front of me when I was little!”  Uh…ya.  Feeble at best but he doesn’t get the old argument, “If I jumped off a bridge, would you follow me?”  

 Logic escapes Jacob because he runs purely on emotions so when my emotions heighten, it’s a lovely kettle of fury that boils over until one of us is crying… and it’s usually me.

My brilliant plan today was devised out of emotion so it was doomed to fail from the start.  In the back of my mind, I KNEW this but DUHHHHH, I did it anyway.Every time Jacob spoke to me, I decided to respond with, “Fuck.”

Jacob: Can I please have my movies back?
Me: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck? (Why the hell should I?)
Jacob: Stop!!!
Me: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! (I can swear if I want to. It’s my house!)

Yup. The Mom. Me…Choosing to stoop to his level. Make no mistake, this was a very conscious choice. I knew exactly what I was doing and there was also my ‘mom’ voice yelling at me to stop being so stupid and even though I imagine the phones recording everything had our neighbors gotten wind of this fiasco, it felt so good in the moment.  

After Jacob yelled at me to stop for the 10th+ time, I finally stopped.  The vengeful and stubborn child in me wanted to have the last word but I reluctantly conceded.

The day just got better from there.  Hahaha! I’m kidding. It really didn’t but my attitude about it got better, which only served to piss off Jacob even more.  I can’t win fer losin’!  

I’ve been on Jacob’s case all week about picking up the dishes in his room and getting rid of the garbage (which I‘m sure hasn’t helped). I refuse to go in there and clean since he has two arms, two legs and a heartbeat. He’s perfectly capable and I do not wear a maid uniform (outside of the bedroom at least. hehe) 

So about 4 days ago, Cayden got Jacob a milkshake which Jacob did not finish.  It was still sitting on his bedside table where he got a real good whiff of it tonight while preparing to watch a movie.  

I heard a cough and a sputter and then heard him clinking the dishes and trash that he gathered up quickly.  He yelled to me that he made a huge mistake with the shake so I told him to take it to the outside trash can.  By the time he got to the kitchen though, he was gagging full force and then made a run for the bathroom.  In between wretches, he yelled,”I’m puking! Somebody help me!”

Me, still in a huff from earlier but feeling totally juvenile and fiendish, asked,”What do you want me to do? Hold your hair back?!”

All I heard was, “{Barf}…I don’t know! Just do something!”  By this time, I was laughing so hard at the cartoonish sounds of his vomiting that I couldn’t speak.  That only served to piss him off even more.  The next thing I knew, he was losing control of all motor functions and the vomit landed on every (well almost every) surface of the bathroom.  Jacob was so angry that he stomped his way through the vomit and into my bedroom and yelled at us, “Well you can clean it all up then!!”


30 minutes of arguing back and forth finally had me calmed down enough to grab the Nature’s Miracle (awesomeness in a bottle) and spray the bathroom down.  Jacob managed to clean up most of it with a towel and I took pity on him and tossed the milkshake cup in the trash for him.

I suppose it could have gone much better than it did had I kept my wits about me today but alas, it did not and I can’t change that. Let this be a lesson in…I dunno. Stupidity? How about; even mom‘s have bad days but if you can laugh and blog about it later, it’s all good. 

For now, all is right with the world…Until next time.

This entry was posted on April 28, 2013, in family.

‘Basket Case’

Fig. A person who is a nervous wreck….

—–(Formerly referred to a person who is physically disabled in all four limbs because of paralysis or amputation.)

Word of Warning: Profanity. Read no further if you can’t handle it.

You’re probably wondering why I began this post with the definition of Basket Case.  Let’s start with the first definition.  “A person who is a nervous wreck”.  This describes me especially when I am out in public with Jacob.  I am constantly on guard and silently dreading what the kid is going to say next.  Is it going to be inappropriate? Will he hijack someones conversation? What will he find offensive that will cause a meltdown?  What might I say to him that will cause a meltdown?  Jacob is almost 21 but it’s like living with ticking bomb.  You know it’ll go off, you just don’t know when, how big and how much damage it’ll do. It’ll make anybody a nervous wreck!

I deliberately left the second definition in because in a strange, metaphorical way, it also describes me. There have been times, especially in Jacobs younger days, that I found it damn near impossible to get out of bed in the morning. The very last thing I wanted to do at night was sleep because I knew that the morning would come too quickly.  Once awake, the pitter patter of little feet sent a wave of dread through my body and landed square in my gut; rendering me paralyzed with anxiety, fear, exasperation, nervousness, excitement, anger and frustration.  I have all of my limbs but somehow, this child was capable of turning me into a spineless jellyfish that had been washed up on shore.  I’ve managed to grow a backbone over the years but there are days that continue to wear me down and wreak havoc upon my sanity. 

I am and forever will be, a Basket Case.

That’s Not What That Means

Our dog Max likes to lay in bed beside me. He’s a total Mama’s boy but that’s besides my point…
Yesterday, Max was napping and usually he either drools or licks the bed in his sleep. I know he’s weird but I’m used to it by now.  Jacob let Molly outside so of course, the other two have to follow. Max jumped off the bed and left a wet spot in his place.
Jacob looked at the spot, then at me and said, “Oh, looks like someone had a wet dream.”
WHAT???
I said, “Jacob, do me a favour and never say that in public!” Story of my life, right there!
Jacob asked me what was wrong, “What? I just said he had a wet dream. Was that the wrong thing to say?”
Ground swallow me whole…Now I have to explain it to him.
I asked,”Jacob, do you know what ejaculate means?”
Well of course he knows THAT! (Wow…I have some serious educating to do with this kid.)
Anyway, after that question, the light bulb goes off above his head
‘DING!’
 He blushes and yells,” OMG! I thought it meant that when you pee your pants in your sleep, it’s called a wet dream!”
Now that we got that straight, let’s hope he remembers it so I don’t have to do more damage control in the grocery store.       
This entry was posted on April 22, 2013, in family.

Our Love Story (In a Nutshell)

I see this trend happening on the Blogosphere lately so I’m jumping on the bandwagon to share my fabulous love story.  
Charles and I met in a bar in January 1988. I was a waitress in that bar.
After a few weeks of flirting, we had our first date February 1988.
A few weeks later in April 1988, Charles spent the night drinking in said bar while I worked and in his inebriated state, asked me to marry him. I said, “Are you kidding me?” Somewhere in our messed up dialogue, I said yes.
We spent the next few months dodging the question from friends and relatives, “Is it a shotgun wedding?”
Tied the knot sans shotgun, August 1988.
Still married April 2013…

Long story short…We met in a bar, got engaged in a bar and after the wedding ceremony, the wedding party celebrated at the bar before the reception. Exciting!
In a Nutshell.