I never got suspended from school. I had a couple of detentions but learned from them and kept my nose clean in school. Mostly because I was afraid of my parents. Afraid that I would disappoint them. I never wanted to hand my mom a paper from school that said I had misbehaved or hurt someone. The look of disappointment from her would have been a hundred times more of a punishment than the penalty from the school.
Today my youngest got suspended for 3 days. He pushed someone down a couple of steps because the kid called him a name. He was afraid to tell me and hand me the notice from the school but not because I would be disappointed. And I am! But because knew something else would be taken away from him as a penalty. I did restrict him from the TV. I'm not sure how long that will be withheld just yet, but long enough to make a point anyway. I've already taken away his video games and computer and phone privledges for his unacceptable grades.
I've come to a point where I don't have anything else to take away. It just seems to go on and on. Soon it will become the norm for him to have nothing to do and he won't recognize these as punishments. Do I make him read? I don't want reading to be a punishment. I want him to enjoy it. I really feel like I'm up against a wall and he's only 13. We have many years of school left and there is no where to go but up, I'm just not sure how to get us there.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up
I *may* have witnessed the following scenerio today and I *might* have come thisclose to peeing my pants at work. Don't judge! You would have peed too.
We had a plus size lady (read: holy stretched polyester pants) come to our facility today. She was a little out of breath from waddling from the parking lot to the lobby. We have wheelchairs just inside the door so she grabbed one to hold herself upright (kinda like a walker). Also she was not there for any leg and or breathing related problems cause that would just be sad not funny.
It was crystal clear that there was no way she could walk to the back of the building where the reason for her visit awaited. Out of necessity, she was asked if she would like to ride in the wheelchair so we wouldn't have to call 911 by the time she was nearly exhausted and completely unable to breathe from walking down 2 hall ways.
Riding IN the wheelchair is an understatement. As she sat down her extra poundage settled into every crevice and empty space of the wheelchair frame. Have you ever seen the foam that they sell at home improvement stores that EXPANDS when you squirt in in a hole? Yeah, picture that!
Pushing her down the hall was like pushing a 500 pound boulder up a mountain with a drinking straw. At the end of the hall she said she thought something smelled like it was burning. IT WAS! Her thighs were rubbing the wheels! Melting polyester is not a pleasant scent. How could she not feel her legs warming up from the friction?!
Getting her out of the wheelchair was a whole nother sight. It took 3 people to unwedge her from her chariot as one person held on to the chair trying desperately not to giggle and allow pee to run down her leg. That person *probably* wasn't me.
She survived but we did not offer a wheelchair for her departure.
We had a plus size lady (read: holy stretched polyester pants) come to our facility today. She was a little out of breath from waddling from the parking lot to the lobby. We have wheelchairs just inside the door so she grabbed one to hold herself upright (kinda like a walker). Also she was not there for any leg and or breathing related problems cause that would just be sad not funny.
It was crystal clear that there was no way she could walk to the back of the building where the reason for her visit awaited. Out of necessity, she was asked if she would like to ride in the wheelchair so we wouldn't have to call 911 by the time she was nearly exhausted and completely unable to breathe from walking down 2 hall ways.
Riding IN the wheelchair is an understatement. As she sat down her extra poundage settled into every crevice and empty space of the wheelchair frame. Have you ever seen the foam that they sell at home improvement stores that EXPANDS when you squirt in in a hole? Yeah, picture that!
Pushing her down the hall was like pushing a 500 pound boulder up a mountain with a drinking straw. At the end of the hall she said she thought something smelled like it was burning. IT WAS! Her thighs were rubbing the wheels! Melting polyester is not a pleasant scent. How could she not feel her legs warming up from the friction?!
Getting her out of the wheelchair was a whole nother sight. It took 3 people to unwedge her from her chariot as one person held on to the chair trying desperately not to giggle and allow pee to run down her leg. That person *probably* wasn't me.
She survived but we did not offer a wheelchair for her departure.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Everyone on HGTV is a BIG FAT LIAR
Once upon a time I had a kitchen in my house. It wasn't perfect but it WAS functional. Now? Ummm, NO!
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| Note: Not normally this messy. Really! |
Some time in the last month I lost my mind. I allowed my husband who is soooo NOT Bob Villa to remove walls. You know those things that construction people build that hold the house up? I'm sure when I kill him sometime during this renovation my attorney will decide that the insanity defense is air tight because who in there right mind allow this:
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| Goggles! Safety first when your wife is about to kill you with a ladder. |
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| See that hole? It goes to the roof! |
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| Holy crap! |
He's making stromboli on my pool table as I type this. Nick had to ask if the flour the dough was on was sawdust. I'm afraid, VERY afraid!
Friday, September 24, 2010
I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues
Elton John was on to something when he wrote the lyrics-
Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever
Between you and me I could honestly say
That things can only get better.
I have the blues or what I hope is just the blues.
I can't shake them. Everything seems out of my control.
Maybe it's a 5 day vacation coming to end? Except I have Saturday and Sunday off too.
Or family going back home after having an awesome visit.
It could be knowing that in a few weeks we will have 3 kids living at home in a house that is barely big enough for 2 kids.
I could pinpoint it to having my mom and sister within a half hour drive of our house but not seeing them nearly enough. But that's not it either.
Impending home renovations with not nearly enough time to complete them. Anticipation of a giant mess. I can't say that's why I feel this way.
Having my job move from everything that is familiar. But that's still a month off too.
Nick's performance at school. Grades that need to be better but fearing that he's doing the best he can.
I want to run but I'm not sure where I'd be running to. I can't escape depression. I know this. I guess that's what I'm most afraid of. What if this is depression and not just the blues? I just want it to go away. I want to laugh easily and not just spend my time waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever
Between you and me I could honestly say
That things can only get better.
I have the blues or what I hope is just the blues.
I can't shake them. Everything seems out of my control.
Maybe it's a 5 day vacation coming to end? Except I have Saturday and Sunday off too.
Or family going back home after having an awesome visit.
It could be knowing that in a few weeks we will have 3 kids living at home in a house that is barely big enough for 2 kids.
I could pinpoint it to having my mom and sister within a half hour drive of our house but not seeing them nearly enough. But that's not it either.
Impending home renovations with not nearly enough time to complete them. Anticipation of a giant mess. I can't say that's why I feel this way.
Having my job move from everything that is familiar. But that's still a month off too.
Nick's performance at school. Grades that need to be better but fearing that he's doing the best he can.
I want to run but I'm not sure where I'd be running to. I can't escape depression. I know this. I guess that's what I'm most afraid of. What if this is depression and not just the blues? I just want it to go away. I want to laugh easily and not just spend my time waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Baths and Binkies
I can't get enough of him. From his kicks in the bath water sending a spray all over me and the bathroom to the sweet sucking sounds of his tiny lips around his blue pacifier.
I laid him on the bear shaped, yellow sponge in the bathtub with barely enough water to cover his tiny bottom. With the washcloth I gently squeeze warm water on his belly while he kicks his feet splashing water everywhere. He giggles as I wash the formula catching creases of his neck and wipe the water from his face that his toes delivered just seconds before. I think he could lie there throwing water around with his kicks for quite a long time. He doesn't even mind when the water cools. He just keeps splishing and splashing like the cutest duckling ever. After carefully rinsing the soap from all his crevices and creases I wrap him in a thick towel and smell his downy soft hair. He's not in a hurry to get dressed, I think he likes being naked. But I'm quick to put on a clean diaper because little guys will send a stream of pee several times their body length without any warning. I learned that the hard way!
He likes to be swaddled. Cuddled in a cocoon of soft blankets. He makes the sweetest little noises like he's singing himself to sleep. Even after he falls asleep with shallow milk scented breaths I hesitate to take him off my chest and lay him down to sleep peacefully by himself. His closed eyes dart around behind his itty-bitty lash lined lids. I can only imagine what he's dreaming of. Sometimes he takes the shortest of catnaps and wakes up smiling and watching his hands as he tries to put them in him mouth. His pacifier cast aside as it's not nearly as amusing as his ten little fingers and apparently doesn't taste as good either. When I talk to him he watches me like he's known me forever. His smiles make me feel like the luckiest gramma ever.
In a couple of days his mom and dad will pack up he and his brother and take them 1200 miles back home. I'll hold on to the days and evenings that we spent drenching my bathroom. And I may not wash my favorite blanket for a while, until the smell of him fades. The next time I see him he will be several months older and will have forgotten our short week together but I won't forget those memories anytime soon.
I laid him on the bear shaped, yellow sponge in the bathtub with barely enough water to cover his tiny bottom. With the washcloth I gently squeeze warm water on his belly while he kicks his feet splashing water everywhere. He giggles as I wash the formula catching creases of his neck and wipe the water from his face that his toes delivered just seconds before. I think he could lie there throwing water around with his kicks for quite a long time. He doesn't even mind when the water cools. He just keeps splishing and splashing like the cutest duckling ever. After carefully rinsing the soap from all his crevices and creases I wrap him in a thick towel and smell his downy soft hair. He's not in a hurry to get dressed, I think he likes being naked. But I'm quick to put on a clean diaper because little guys will send a stream of pee several times their body length without any warning. I learned that the hard way!
He likes to be swaddled. Cuddled in a cocoon of soft blankets. He makes the sweetest little noises like he's singing himself to sleep. Even after he falls asleep with shallow milk scented breaths I hesitate to take him off my chest and lay him down to sleep peacefully by himself. His closed eyes dart around behind his itty-bitty lash lined lids. I can only imagine what he's dreaming of. Sometimes he takes the shortest of catnaps and wakes up smiling and watching his hands as he tries to put them in him mouth. His pacifier cast aside as it's not nearly as amusing as his ten little fingers and apparently doesn't taste as good either. When I talk to him he watches me like he's known me forever. His smiles make me feel like the luckiest gramma ever.
In a couple of days his mom and dad will pack up he and his brother and take them 1200 miles back home. I'll hold on to the days and evenings that we spent drenching my bathroom. And I may not wash my favorite blanket for a while, until the smell of him fades. The next time I see him he will be several months older and will have forgotten our short week together but I won't forget those memories anytime soon.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Are we there yet?
Vacations where we pack suitcases and actually travel somewhere accomplish more that just reaching a vacation destination. Things like showering daily and brushing my teeth. I haven't figured out why that is but I can say its a real phenomenon. Maybe since I'm in my own home my brain thinks it's not so important for me to be clean. Ummm, brain, IT IS!
Its hard to get these things done when I'm on vacation at home. I took a week off to spend with family from out of state. We're having a great time except I can't seem to motivate myself to get anythings else done besides cuddling and playing with the littles. I have a strict schedule on the mornings that I have to get ready for work. I know exactly how much time each step takes until I can walk out the door. This time off has derailed any normal schedule I might have had.
I have managed to get dressed everyday (GO ME) but not so much before noon. I've taken a couple showers but bedhead is pretty much the style of week. Brushing my teeth has fallen waaaay down on the to-do-list. I probably should go do that since it didn't happen yesterday. Gross! And for the most part my house looks like a disaster zone. Okay so that part is normal but usually I make at least a half-hearted attempt at picking stuff up off the floor. The last few days I've just been kicking it out of my way.
I love vacations!
Its hard to get these things done when I'm on vacation at home. I took a week off to spend with family from out of state. We're having a great time except I can't seem to motivate myself to get anythings else done besides cuddling and playing with the littles. I have a strict schedule on the mornings that I have to get ready for work. I know exactly how much time each step takes until I can walk out the door. This time off has derailed any normal schedule I might have had.
I have managed to get dressed everyday (GO ME) but not so much before noon. I've taken a couple showers but bedhead is pretty much the style of week. Brushing my teeth has fallen waaaay down on the to-do-list. I probably should go do that since it didn't happen yesterday. Gross! And for the most part my house looks like a disaster zone. Okay so that part is normal but usually I make at least a half-hearted attempt at picking stuff up off the floor. The last few days I've just been kicking it out of my way.
I love vacations!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
300 Pound Gorilla
Webster defines punishment as suffering, pain, or loss that serves as retribution.
I'm not sure how to deal with a punishment that's being served for something that isn't my fault. I've been punished for things that I'm sorry for. And I live with those things because even though I'm sorry it's not always enough. But being penalized for a decision that someone else made is breaking my heart. The wrong was done by someone else with no penalty. How is that fair? Simply glossed over like it never happened. The ultimatum was given to lose everything or accept the unacceptable. I never give enough, I'm not willing to forgive. Quite honestly I'm tired of trying. A physical wound can be bandaged and waited on to heal. The heart doesn't work like that. All the bandaging and medicine in the world won't make it hurt any less when in one breath the words "I love you" are thrown into the wind but in the next second it's made more than clear that that love really isn't enough. Crumbs are dropped, carrots dangled. For what? To entice or to remind that I can hurt you more? I suppose the decision was made for me and I'll learn to live with it. I've cried and swallowed hurtful words because the effort won't make it better. I've let go of wishes for occasions that will never be. Disintegrated before it ever happened. I can't keep wearing my heart on my sleeve while my arm feels like its being forcefully removed. Maybe I'll continue to live with the what ifs and what could have been or maybe it'll get easier. I really don't know.
I hurt. I'm angry and that anger is destroying a love that barely had time to blossom. For that I am sorry! It's wrong and I know it but I'm defenseless to keep it from happening. One relationship is nurtured while several others decay. I can't force it and I must accept it. I'm giving up so much. There can't be any other outcome. I'll smile and remember that what never was won't be missed. I hope!
That 300 pound gorilla in the corner? Just pretend it's not there. Nevermind that it's taking up all the space in the room and making it hard to breathe. Ignore it and it will disappear. If only......
I'm not sure how to deal with a punishment that's being served for something that isn't my fault. I've been punished for things that I'm sorry for. And I live with those things because even though I'm sorry it's not always enough. But being penalized for a decision that someone else made is breaking my heart. The wrong was done by someone else with no penalty. How is that fair? Simply glossed over like it never happened. The ultimatum was given to lose everything or accept the unacceptable. I never give enough, I'm not willing to forgive. Quite honestly I'm tired of trying. A physical wound can be bandaged and waited on to heal. The heart doesn't work like that. All the bandaging and medicine in the world won't make it hurt any less when in one breath the words "I love you" are thrown into the wind but in the next second it's made more than clear that that love really isn't enough. Crumbs are dropped, carrots dangled. For what? To entice or to remind that I can hurt you more? I suppose the decision was made for me and I'll learn to live with it. I've cried and swallowed hurtful words because the effort won't make it better. I've let go of wishes for occasions that will never be. Disintegrated before it ever happened. I can't keep wearing my heart on my sleeve while my arm feels like its being forcefully removed. Maybe I'll continue to live with the what ifs and what could have been or maybe it'll get easier. I really don't know.
I hurt. I'm angry and that anger is destroying a love that barely had time to blossom. For that I am sorry! It's wrong and I know it but I'm defenseless to keep it from happening. One relationship is nurtured while several others decay. I can't force it and I must accept it. I'm giving up so much. There can't be any other outcome. I'll smile and remember that what never was won't be missed. I hope!
That 300 pound gorilla in the corner? Just pretend it's not there. Nevermind that it's taking up all the space in the room and making it hard to breathe. Ignore it and it will disappear. If only......
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