Parent Visiting Day

Whew, it feels good to write again. I have been so crazed lately I haven't been able to find the time.

Dad and his wife came in over the weekend. It was weird, and very aggravating, as always. We have, how can I put it diplomatically, an 'odd' relationship. Essentially my father does not know how to relate to people, and his wife is relatively the same way. Check this out. They fly down to DC to visit us on Sunday. We haven't seen them since, like, Thanksgiving. OK, so they fly down, check out the new American Indian museum (which nobody wants to go to but them), take us out to brunch (which is harried because of the time crunch caused by their flight home), do a quick pit stop at the Jefferson Memorial to check out the cherry blossoms (another short stop over because of the time crunch), and then go home. Is that weird, or is it just me? They don't come to my house. They don't spend the night. They don't even make it uptown. I feel like it's a 'lip service visit'. You know like, 'Oh yeah, we should really see the kid down in DC, let's do it and check it off our list' kind of visit.

And to make matters worse, they are terrible at talking. They never ask 'how are you?'. Or 'how's the job?' or the kids 'how's school?'. Not even the superficial small talk that even a stranger would make! Frankly, I really don't know what we talk about! Actually, I do. We talk about them. Because I know how to engage people in conversation! I ask them about them. How difficult is that?! Anyway, we just talk about them for the 5 hours, 39 minutes, and 43 seconds they are actually here, while zipping around DC making sure we don't miss their fight home.

This is really odd, right? I mean it's not just me and some deep seeded, subconscious hostility I feel towards my father rearing itself, right? I mean the anger and resentment I feel towards him is fairly out there, wouldn't you say?

Anyway, both my husband and I both feel very hurt by these visits, and the way they act. They act like there is no desire to come and see us. There is no interest in coming to see us. They just want to do it because it's the right thing to do and they have to. My husband gets even more upset then I do. It's probably because he's not used to it. He comes from an incredibly loving family who can sit around and talk with you all day, and are interested in you, and want to see you, and spend time with you, and make you feel loved.

I just don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to my Dad about it, but he's so clueless he just denies it, or blames it on me (calls me overly sensitive), and eventually it just goes in one ear and out the other. So, my choices are to either put up with it, or continue to steam about it and feel resentful and angry, to cut him out of my life, or to blow up his car while he's sitting in it. Not great choices, but I have decided to go with the first, because he is my father, and he is the grandfather of my children, and he does have some reasonable qualities that are worth experiencing. I also don't think he is maliciously saying to himself 'hey, I'm not going to talk to my daughter, and I'm only going to see her when I have to, and I want her to be mad at me'. He's a very bright man in some ways, but in this arena he as dumb as a jackass. So, I just deal with it, and don't get my expectations up too high. Kind of a pathetic solution but I don't know what else to do. The worst is I just feel parentless. My father is like this, and my mother is crazy and I have to take care of her. All, I have to say is thank God for my in-laws. Now that goes against all stereotypes, doesn't it!

Crazy Mom Fantasy

Man have I been stressed out this week! Too much shit to do! I have to get my tax info. together, which is always a pain in the ass. My practice is rockin' lately: I have been getting tons of referrals. My mother is driving me nuts because she is trying to plan a trip to Manchu Picchu, which is way up in the Peruvian Andes, and which has an elevation of something like 9,000 feet. I am refusing to let her do it (I am in charge of her life - I am her legal guardian) because she can't even walk a city block let alone scale a mountain: she is obese, completely out of shape, has diabetes, and has asthma (and is obviously crazy!). Oh, and this guardianship crap is causing me huge heartburn - the courts are complaining of noncompliance, and I have to go to court to deal with this. This is all on top of the usual stuff: homework, house work, work, play dates, illness, bills, you know.

I feel like I need a personal staff of about half a dozen people. You know, like the movie stars have? Yeah, a personal assistant, a driver, a bookkeeper, a chef, a hair and make-up guy, a few nannies, a tutor for homework help, and maybe an RN on call. I just wouldn't want them all milling around in my house. They would have to be located in another place, like the house next door, so they can run over here whenever I need them. That way no one would invade my personal space. Yeah! They can even sleep there, so they can be available round-the-clock. And check this; I could have a tunnel running from my house to the house next door where they reside. This way they can go back and forth and not have to confront inclement weather, or bump into any stray pedestrians passing by.

Wait a minute, I think they call these folks indentured servants right? Well, how about this as a solution - they can be robots! Yeah! You know, like the ones from Westworld or Futureworld or what ever that creepy movie was called where Yul Brynner was running around as a crazy cowboy robot killing everyone? They can be human-like robots so you never know they are robots, and that way they look like real people but they wouldn't need food, water, rest or pay! The tunnel would prevent them from rust, kidnapping or getting banged up on the treacherous 20 yard journey from the neighbor's house to mine. This would reduce the possibility of malfunction or any sort of crazy killer nanny-robot type situation. Wow, this just keeps on getting better and better.

Uh-oh, my son is asking for homework help. Gotta go. Damb it! Where are those crazy tutor-robots when you need them.

Mental Health Conference

Humm, well everything has gone pretty smooth these past few days. Husband is back from business trip, little son has been behaving normally (what ever that is) and big son is studying hard. Just the usual stuff, but nothing out the ordinary. Isn't it interesting that when everything is going fine I have nothing to write about? What's with that?

Oh, I have something funny to tell. Last week I went to this conference for my CEU's (continuing education credits). I need a certain amount of CEU's in order to renew my social work license, which essentially allows me to work. Well, the amount was recently doubled so now I have to get these thing quick. Anyway, I signed up to this conference which is very convenient and chock full of CEU's. Now, this conference is for mental health professionals, and traditionally has provided some really engaging workshops and dynamic speakers like Tom Wolfe, Cornell West and Mario Cuomo, just to name a few. However, in recent years, it has gotten a little too 'crunchy' for me; there's a little too much yoga, meditation and guided imagery for my liking.

Anyway, the first day was 'creativity day' (see what I mean?) and I went to a conference about 'conscious eating'. Well, as soon as I walked in I saw a room full of obese people and a few anorexics peppered throughout the crowd. I had thought this conference was for treatment providers, but I quickly realized it was for those who suffer as well.

Now I don't want to be a hypocrite. I obviously have my own problems; those in mental health are NOT the bastions of sanity. And, like most women, I have had my issues with my weight. I was a heavy teenager, and lost about 20 lbs. in college thanks to a healthy diet of eating less, partying, dancing, and designer drugs. Then, after I had kids, put on 10 - 15 lbs which I have not been able to take off, no matter how much I exercised or dieted. When I turned 40 I thought that was going to be my moment to stay motivated and to get thin, but instead I resigned myself to being 10 lbs overweight. Hey, I'm 40 for God's sake, enough is enough.

Anyway, back to the conference. So I'm sitting amongst these enormous woman, and listening to this speaker who appeared to be more obsessed with her body and food then probably anyone in the audience. The entire experience felt like a contradiction. Here are all these people obsessed with food and eating, talking about food and eating! We sit in small groups and talk about it, we sit in large groups and listen to the speaker talk about it, we close our eyes and visualize it. What is wrong with this picture!

The final straw was during the final 45 minute guided imagery we had to endure at the end of the day. We had to close our eyes and listen to the corny music she played about loving ourselves and our bodies. Then she told us to get comfortable. I found this impossible to do in a conference room filled with people (big people!), sitting on a semi padded chair with no arm rests to lean on. As I struggled to find a comfortable position, I tried the deep breathing she directed us to do, and almost gagged on the stale, hot, sweaty air which had filled the room through the course of the day. She talked in her best 'mediation' voice (you know, that deep, slow, whispery type of voice) and tried to get us in touch with our bodies and our minds.

Well, as she 'guiding' us, my mind began to drift. All the talk of food began to get to me. Hummm....What should I cook for dinner? And, wow, I could really use I sandwich about now, on a fresh, crunchy baguette....

Then she asked, 'what is your body feeling right now?' HUNGRY! I answered in my head, AND BORED....AND RESTLESS. I'VE BEEN SITTING IN THIS ROOM ALL DAY, AND NOW MY BODY JUST WANTS TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

Then she asked the question, 'If you could give your body and your mind what it wanted, right now, what would you give it? Can you give it?'. I said in my head, YES, I CAN! So I got up and left.

Needless to say, it was very liberating.

The Storm After the Calm

Before I get into today's escapades, I have to say that someone wrote a really nice comment about my 3/15 post. It really warmed my heart. Thank you Anonymous!

OK, now back to business. After his blissful day of playing hookey yesterday it was back to the grind stone for little son. I arranged for a play date after school so he wouldn't have to go to after care while I was at a conference. So I pick him up at 5:00 and he seems happy, playing with his friend. The Mom reports things went pretty well except for a minor excursion into the middle of the street to retrieve a ball (he knows better!). So we leave, and I'm relieved because everything seems to have worked out. Well, as soon as we walk half way up the block a huge tantrum starts. I have no idea what set him off other then it involved his brother. And let me tell you, it was a whopper!

He used to have tantrums like this frequently, but they subsided at least a year or so ago. So this incident was very regressive. Remember, he's 5, not 2. He does some typical maneuvers, like lying on the ground, screaming, crying, etc. But he can also get physically aggressive, hitting scratching, pulling hair. However, the scary part is sometimes he tries to run into the street. Yep. The street. And he'll go for it until I stop him. I don't know if it's a threat or if he'll really go all the way, because I don't let him get that far; I always grab him before he gets into any danger. But it absolutely scares the shit out of me. I don't know why he does this. I don't think he wants to hurt himself (at least I hope not!). It's more like an impulsive, angry, 'take that' gesture. Like 'look what I'm going to do now' type of gesture. It also seems like he's trying to punish me by threatening to hurt himself, though I know that seems backwards. I think it's his way of saying 'fuck you' without having to curse. For whatever the reason it is terrifying, and freaks me out because I think it's extreme, weird, bordering on the demented, abnormal, and the obvious - extremely dangerous.

Well, back to the tantrum at hand. So he starts to completely loose it. He's rolling on the ground, kicking and screaming. Then he starts the 'running into the street' shit. Every time I grab his arm he drops to the ground like a sack of cement, so I start dragging him up the block trying to get him home (mind you, we only live a block away!). Now I'm trying to stay clam but my patients are quickly evaporating. The scene begins to escalate, he screaming and me trying to calm him down by yelling (yeah, that's a smart way to handle it!). Now I'm worried that before someone calls the police for child abuse I'm going to pull his arm out of it's socket while I'm dragging him home, but I can't let him go because I'm scared he's going to run into the street, and I can't stand there and wait because we would be there all night! Well, we're almost home, he's walking a bit now so I don't have to drag him the whole way, but then he drops down again, and as I crouch down with him (because I won't let go of his hand) out of no where, he clocks me right in the face with his foot. Well, that was the last straw. I pick him up, he is screaming and squirming in my arms, scratching me (which drew blood!) and haul him back to the house. I get him inside, lock all the doors and take all the keys. He's going nuts at this point, beating on the doors, trying to get out of the house, looking for hammers, or any sort of instrument to bust the door down. Remember, this kids is 5, and three and a half feet tall.

Well, to make a long story short (too late for that) about 20 minutes later things clam down. He eats dinner (which makes things 100% better), I give him a quick bath and put him right to bed. He falls asleep immediately.

Oh my God. What am I going to do with this kid?! It's times like this I feel like becoming a heavy drinker (I don't drink that much, but let me tell you, I was ready to pour myself something after this escapade). Either that, or run into the street myself.

I'm just telling myself, just like I told him, tomorrow is a new day. Let's be rid of this one, chalk it up to the residual affects of lack of sleep, hunger and previous illness. What more can you do? You have to go on, and you have to give yourself a reason to be optimistic. Otherwise we would probably all be running into the middle of the street.

Game Boy Blues

Whew! We made it through the day. My little one had a rough night, woke many times screaming during nightmares, but slept late and took the day off from school. I figure today was a 'corrective, mental health day'. I think if he misses a day or two of kindergarten it won't kill anyone. And he would have probably been too exhausted to make it through the day anyway. Besides, he's fairly bored there - he already knows most of what's being taught.

So we shared the day, he relaxing and regaining some composure while I did the usual SAHM things, since it was my day off from work. One of my errands was to go to the DMV to renew my car's registration. Assuming this was going to take all day I came prepared. I brought gum, fruit roll ups (a favorite treat) and the Gameboy.

When we got there we hunkered down with a mouth full of Juicy Fruit and a fist full of 'Tony Hawk's American Skateland'. We were ready. Well, shockingly, the whole excursion took 20 minutes. The people behind the counters were amazingly friendly, the security guard was amicable and engaging, and I didn't have any problems with my paperwork.

With all my excitement and jubilation, and a meter filled with an hour and 40 minutes left, I proposed going to lunch across the street at the Dean and Deluca's cafe. 'You'll love it' I said. 'They have everything: sushi (he loves sushi, but nothing raw), great sodas and amazing desserts'. I was so elated by our brief and pleasant encounter with the DMV I was ready to splurge and spoil. No response. 'Come on kiddo, this is a one in a life time chance!'. Nothing. I could not peel him away. What irony - we were stuck at the DMV, and it had nothing to do with my car. It was the Gameboy.

Trying to remind myself that this was 'corrective mental health day' I swallowed my frustration, mustered up my patients, and calmly and gently guided him by the back of his shoulders out of the DMV. Moving him along gently in front of me I piloted him into the elevator. We went up the 2 flights, exited the building and crossed the street to Dean and Deluca's. All the while little son played his Gameboy, not once looking up to venture a gaze as to see where he was going. He was transfixed on the game, eyes glued to the tiny screen, occasionally wincing and grunting when his skateborder fell. While he grinded ollies on the half pipe, I navigated him through the crowded market, jockeying him along by the nape of the neck, occasionally shoving small tastes of various dishes into his mouth until he grunted in agreement that we had found the right one. Not once did he take his eyes off the Gameboy.

People occasionally looked at us and giggled, probably because he is so cute. But I was feeling like the looser mother of the year, engrossing my kid in video games even while going food shopping! And what made matters worse was the fact that he looked like some sort of robot, and that I was using his neck like some sort of control device or joystick. We eventually paid for our food, got out of dodge, made a B-line for the car, jumped in, and scurried home. The Gameboy session finally came to a end as a result of a bout of motion sickness it was causing on the ride uptown.

I guess the moral to the story is never underestimate the DMV.

Stomach Bug

OK, so my little son got this stomach bug Friday night. He was miserable for 2 days: puking, pooping, crying, cringing, buckled over in pain. I was terrified he was going to get dehydrated so I pumped him full of Gatorade. Well, he recovered by Sunday night which was perfect timing so he could get to school Monday morning, right? Well, my husband takes off at 6:00am Monday for a week long business trip, and guess who gets bit in the ass by the stomach bug? Yep, yours truly. Me. So, I am writhing in pain after puking my guts out, unable to get out of bed. My kids are now up, and quite aware that I am sick. They were amazing! The 10 year old was feeding me Gatorade through a bendy straw while my 5 year old was displaying how I should lie on my stomach 'like this' to ease my pain. Meanwhile I am trying to put on a brave and calm face so they wouldn't be too frightened by what they were witnessing. Well, there was NO WAY I was getting out of bed to take them to school, because I couldn't even make it across the bedroom, let alone out of the house. However, with the help of some others and an amazing bit of luck, my kids made it to school and by pick up I was well enough (barely) to retrieve them.

Now for the fall out. I have been a complete grump for the past 24 hours, and my kids have been getting the brunt of it. I have been yelling a little too quick, my patients are way to short, and my mind has been foggy and unable to focus. And now, as I write, my little one is having a bad dream, is screaming, throwing things around his room, tearing apart his bed, and attempting to sleep on the floor. I have tried to comfort him, rub his back, anything, but it is not helping. I feel as though it's all because of me and getting this stupid stomach bug. A year or two ago he used to have night terrors (I'll go into that another time) and I always felt that they were worse when I was not at my best. This, unfortunately, is confirming my theory.

So what started out as a humorous story has now turned into a troubling turn of events. Man, it's just hard having to be 'on' all the time. The slightest fuck up and all hell breaks loose. By the way, I think he's asleep now. He's on the floor, but he's asleep. Whew! I'm glad that's over. I just hope he's not a complete monster tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Private Parts

It's amazing how my children's' behavior and mood affects my daily frame of mind. If the younger one is having a rough time, misbehaving or being just generally difficult, or if the older one is cranky and screeching, my day is shot. I am a bag of nerves. However, on the flip side, if everything is good, I'm fine. I keep on telling myself I've got to shake this habit, because it's not a good recipe for mental contentedness. But, this week, so far, I've been OK because my kids have been OK.

The little one has been doing really well. No complaints from teacher, well behaved, working his 'program' (in child-speak this is the proverbial star chart incentive program, not Alcoholics Anonymous). Teacher said he was doing great today, listening well, participating in class, all the things that make a mother swell with pride - until he pulled his pants down at another kid. Well, I just laughed at that one. That's just him being a knucklehead which is one of the few things about him that actually doesn't worry me. I said this to teacher, who smiled and agreed (thank God she has a bit of a sense of humor about it all, though she seemed to take the incident a little more seriously then I did). Teacher said he was actually very honest about it too. She asked him "Did you pull down your pants at so-and-so?" And he said "Yes. I did". She asked "Why did you do that?" He said "I don't know, I just did it". He's not a flasher, he's just 5.

Let's just hope that for rest of the week he can keep himself contained - in all ways.

Monday, Monday....

Wow, someone responded to my first posting. Thanks!

Well, the weekend is gone and now it's Monday and the shit starts again. The worry begins: how my little one is going to do today, what trouble did he get into, did he keep it together. Every time I pick him up from school I get that feeling in my stomach that says: what is his teacher going to tell me today? Good or Bad? Every day it's essentially up for grabs. It's impossible to predict.

However, it's my older son who is struggling this time. All weekend he was flipping out about homework - crying and panicking. He's got homework, and a lot of it, but he's worrying far more then needed. And much of his work is voluntary - he's taken on more then is required. He's even in good shape - way a head of the game. The poor kid, he's going to make himself crazy with this. Luckily he's got a sympathetic teacher. It could be worse - he could be really behind, or refusing to do any work, or failing. I guess I should be thankful he is so driven. But it saddens me that he is puts so much pressure on himself. I wish he would give himself a break.

And I am exhausted already and it's only Monday. I have a chest cold and was up late watching the Oscars (Yeah - Crash won!) while consoling older son.

I have a feeling it's going to be a long week.

Intro.

OK, so this is my first time posting anything. I hope it works. Damb, does this thing have a spell check? I hope so. If not, forgive my horrid spelling. Oh, there's the spell check. Never mind.

So I want to write about my life, and my kids. Basically my kids (at least for now). I have 2 kids, boys, ages 5 and 10. The 10 year old is amazing: he's bright, hard working, studious, sensitive, handsome. A complete catch. My little one is who troubles me the most. How can I put it - he's a pistol. A complete character. He's adorable, and funny, and smart as a whip. But he's difficult, and can be exhausting, and negative, and nasty. He might be AD/HD, but I'm not totally sure. Sometimes I don't know how to deal with him and it makes me very upset. Depressed even.

I come from a family with some severe mental illness. My mother is bi-polar and my brother has Aspergers Syndrome (we think). Consequently, when my son acts up, I become terrified. Sometimes I don't know if I am perceiving him in a tainted way, or if I'm on target. I guess that's what I am hoping to accomplish here. I want to put down my thoughts to gain some clarity. If anyone out there is interested, or can relate, I would love some feedback.

I imagine other agendas will come up, other then my son. But for now this seems to be prominent on my mind, and seems to be affecting me the most. I worry a lot, become overwhelmed easily, and frankly become a bit obsessed with it all. I am hoping this blog will help clam my nerves a bit, clear my head, and help me gain some perspective.

In editing this post (for the 3ed time) I forgot to mention that not only am I a mom, but a social worker as well. I actually have a small private practice where I provide therapy to people who have problems. Funny - You would think I have all the answers then, huh. Well, guess again. I find many of the people in my line of work are the most troubled of all. But with my knowledge of 'mental health', and my neurotic outlook on parenthood and life, I hope to provide some interesting, engaging and possibly amusing monologues.

Comments are totally welcome.