Halfway through the day today when Lydia flipped out in the school parking lot, I texted a friend and suggested we meet and get sh*% faced. Her immediate response was "yes, please." Of course, that's ridiculous. I can barely make it through a drink without passing out halfway through because I relax just enough to forget to keep myself awake. Not a good plan when I have to do school pick up at 3pm. What would my excuse be? I took a sip of wine at lunch and just now woke up, don't judge me.
I bet that's just what people would do.
But the whole idea got me thinking about when I was 21 (I waited until the very day to take my first drink... if you knew me back then, please don't comment). I could drink a whole drink and still stay up all night. Ok, yes, it was probably closer to 6 drinks. Like I said: just keep it to yourself....and the next day, I'd wake up at 7 am and go to work. The problem now is, not only do I have to be available 24/7, I also have to be ready for anything. A few examples: Poop everywhere, minor to serious injury's, asthma attacks and strange rashes, pee on the floor (which is just a given), screaming, thrashing mini-people, non-stop begging (which can be a scary trap to watch out for: "But you said Marek could!" Yikes.), and countless other incidents that cannot wait even one more minute for my attention. Sleeping through the night isn't even worth bringing up, let alone a long afternoon nap after a sip of wine.
So, my friends and I, we dream about when we're old and the roles have changes. Our kids have to be ready for us. Just you wait, you little punks, just you wait....but by then the most exciting its likely gonna get is a call from me saying, "come get your kids, they peed on my floor."
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
"I want my mommy"
Lydia and I love each other very much, we just don't show it very often. In fact, the other day while we were having a little spat she looked at me and said, "I want my mommy." I took that to mean that she's done with me and ready for a new one. If only it were that easy...
When I tell my mom stories about Lydia her first reaction is pretty much always laughter and, "you're getting what you deserve." The truth is, she's absolutely right. I have gaps in my memory like everybody else, but I remember some things that I did that remind me of Lydia. The problem is, I remember them like I'm watching a movie, not like I'm involved in any way. Since I can't remember what was going through my mind at the time, I'm very short on ideas for my sweetly insane little Lyd.
I am learning, though. I get mad at Nate sometimes because not only does she keep calm for him, she calms down for him if he gets involved. I've found myself telling on her to him and then adding "will you do something about this?!" Half the time he doesn't even look up, he just says "Lydia, be nice to your mom." As infuriating as that can be, it usually works and we end up laughing about it. Later, after I'm calm. It works better if I stay calm from the beginning, which is what I've been learning. It's tough to keep my cool, though. Here's an example of why:
Lydia: "Can I have some milk?"
Me: "no."
Lydia: "but I want some milk!"
Me: "no."
Lydia: (louder, arms flailing) "I want some milk"
Me: (just as loud) "Lydia, stop saying that! You cannot have any milk."
Lydia: (hysterics setting in): "I want some milk!"
Me: (insanity setting in): "NO, Lydia! Stop. Yelling."
Lydia: (on the ground, screaming, kicking) "MIIIIIILLLLLLLKKKKK!"
Me: (sounds calm inside my head, comes of my mouth as a yell): "For God's sake, Lydia, stop it! That's it, you're going in time out...."
This leads to more screaming on her part, and a lots of muttering and eye rolling on my part. Perhaps a dish placed heavily on the counter.
The moral of the story is...if mom says no to Lydia, go play outside.
I have a hard time figuring out why Lydia doesn't do this to Nate. Most likely it's because he almost never loses his temper so she doesn't bother trying. Also, she's a daddy's girl. This works against me from her side and his. Because sometimes he say's "Oh, poor Lydie." This always makes me choke and gag and yes, laugh because its kind-of funny to see Nate as a softy.
Like I told some friends this morning: Lydia and I will be great friends one day. If we survive each other.
When I tell my mom stories about Lydia her first reaction is pretty much always laughter and, "you're getting what you deserve." The truth is, she's absolutely right. I have gaps in my memory like everybody else, but I remember some things that I did that remind me of Lydia. The problem is, I remember them like I'm watching a movie, not like I'm involved in any way. Since I can't remember what was going through my mind at the time, I'm very short on ideas for my sweetly insane little Lyd.
I am learning, though. I get mad at Nate sometimes because not only does she keep calm for him, she calms down for him if he gets involved. I've found myself telling on her to him and then adding "will you do something about this?!" Half the time he doesn't even look up, he just says "Lydia, be nice to your mom." As infuriating as that can be, it usually works and we end up laughing about it. Later, after I'm calm. It works better if I stay calm from the beginning, which is what I've been learning. It's tough to keep my cool, though. Here's an example of why:
Lydia: "Can I have some milk?"
Me: "no."
Lydia: "but I want some milk!"
Me: "no."
Lydia: (louder, arms flailing) "I want some milk"
Me: (just as loud) "Lydia, stop saying that! You cannot have any milk."
Lydia: (hysterics setting in): "I want some milk!"
Me: (insanity setting in): "NO, Lydia! Stop. Yelling."
Lydia: (on the ground, screaming, kicking) "MIIIIIILLLLLLLKKKKK!"
Me: (sounds calm inside my head, comes of my mouth as a yell): "For God's sake, Lydia, stop it! That's it, you're going in time out...."
This leads to more screaming on her part, and a lots of muttering and eye rolling on my part. Perhaps a dish placed heavily on the counter.
The moral of the story is...if mom says no to Lydia, go play outside.
I have a hard time figuring out why Lydia doesn't do this to Nate. Most likely it's because he almost never loses his temper so she doesn't bother trying. Also, she's a daddy's girl. This works against me from her side and his. Because sometimes he say's "Oh, poor Lydie." This always makes me choke and gag and yes, laugh because its kind-of funny to see Nate as a softy.
Like I told some friends this morning: Lydia and I will be great friends one day. If we survive each other.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Sweeping the Floor
Every night at dinner, Perrin throws his food. Whether he's finished or not, there's always a ring of dinner around his seat. Tonight, Lydia joined in. Of course, with noodles. I should mention that today was a big day for little Lyd. She threw her beloved bottle in the trash. Its a big deal but she did it casually and, honestly, I'm waiting for the break down. I think I got a preview at dinner...
Lydia threw her noodles right along with Perrin. All the kids started yelling for me that noodles were being strewn around, knowing that they are the ones who will clean it up. It sounds a little panicy to me: "MOMMY! Quick, Perrin's throwing his food!" I can't help myself, I hesitate. Not because I'm mean. It's about the future, teaching them to deal with every little disappointing thing that comes along, including cleaning up the noodles that Perrin (and apparently Lydia) threw all over the floor.
When I did make it to the crime scene, Lydia was already pulling out the broom and sweeping all the noodles into the rug right by the door. This became a dreaded teaching moment and I tried to take the broom and show her how to do it. A wrestling match followed. So, I decided to try the "how old are you really?" technique. It backfired. I asked her: "Lyd, are you three years old or are you one?" There was only a slight hesitation before she defiantly says "one". And everyone erupts in exclamations of "ooohhh, Lydie!" and "you are NOT! What the heck?!" and "you don't want to be ONE. Geez, Lydia." We're all laughing too because well, its funny.
In the end, I totally lose. Lydia gets away with being a little punk and I cleaned the floor. What the heck is wrong with me? I think I know, though. Sometimes the kids have to win. If not, they'll gang up on me and hide stuff and all of a sudden they're listening to Beyonce and staying out past curfew. The truth is that right now we can't be friends. There's too much that they have to learn from me. But when they grow up, I want to be able to move our relationship into friendship. And this is where I think I should start, by letting them win every once in a while.
But I'm not sweeping the floor again for a week, at least.
Lydia threw her noodles right along with Perrin. All the kids started yelling for me that noodles were being strewn around, knowing that they are the ones who will clean it up. It sounds a little panicy to me: "MOMMY! Quick, Perrin's throwing his food!" I can't help myself, I hesitate. Not because I'm mean. It's about the future, teaching them to deal with every little disappointing thing that comes along, including cleaning up the noodles that Perrin (and apparently Lydia) threw all over the floor.
When I did make it to the crime scene, Lydia was already pulling out the broom and sweeping all the noodles into the rug right by the door. This became a dreaded teaching moment and I tried to take the broom and show her how to do it. A wrestling match followed. So, I decided to try the "how old are you really?" technique. It backfired. I asked her: "Lyd, are you three years old or are you one?" There was only a slight hesitation before she defiantly says "one". And everyone erupts in exclamations of "ooohhh, Lydie!" and "you are NOT! What the heck?!" and "you don't want to be ONE. Geez, Lydia." We're all laughing too because well, its funny.
In the end, I totally lose. Lydia gets away with being a little punk and I cleaned the floor. What the heck is wrong with me? I think I know, though. Sometimes the kids have to win. If not, they'll gang up on me and hide stuff and all of a sudden they're listening to Beyonce and staying out past curfew. The truth is that right now we can't be friends. There's too much that they have to learn from me. But when they grow up, I want to be able to move our relationship into friendship. And this is where I think I should start, by letting them win every once in a while.
But I'm not sweeping the floor again for a week, at least.
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