Clouds In My Coffeee

Bad day

2011-09-24T19:13:00.000-04:00

I love my kids to death. All of them. But some days are so hard, and I feel like I really really was not cut out to be a mother. Today is one of those days. Actually, there have been more days like this than not lately, and I am kind of at my wits end. And I get so lost in all the "coping" that I don't know where I went for sure.....I need a break bad, and there is no way to get one. On top of all that, the father of my youngest is an alcoholic, and he is on a serious bender right now, and taking it all out on me. I get no support from him, money or otherwise, and never have. And our daughter, who was 3 months premature, has serious sleep issues along with a whole slew of other autistic problems. She is a full time, 24 hour a day job, and according to him I am the cause of all of her problems. I want a quiet day. I want a full nights sleep. I want to cook a meal that doesn't cause one, if not 2 of my kids to have a meltdown. I want to remember who I was before I got all tangled up in doctors and diagnoses and everything in my life being about how deal with the next meltdown. I know there are a ton of people that have it worse than I do, so I feel incredible guilt for even feeling this way.....Gah! I hope it gets better at some point, or that I get better at it. Something.

Although a time machine WOULD be nice.......

2011-08-09T21:28:00.002-04:00

Today my kids were bored. We have 2 different gaming systems, 3 TVs, 4 computers, 2 dvd players, cable and streaming boxes for Netflix, Hulu and Amazon. A microwave oven, a dishwasher, 3 cars, 3 cats and a dog. We even have a swimming pool in the back yard. Not to mention more toys than I even knew existed when I was a kid! How can they be bored????

When I told them we had NONE of these things when I was a kid (except a TV, a car and usually a couple of cats and/or dogs), they were astonished...."What did you DO all day, Mom?"

Well, I'll tell you what I did. I rode my bike all over. I rollerskated for hours. I played hop-scotch and kick the can and ghost in the graveyard. I climbed trees and played in the corn fields. I jumped rope and hula-hooped. I swung from vines in the trees and made a fort and pretended I was a pioneer who lived off the land. I caught fireflies and set them free. I lay on my back on the cool grass and found pictures in the clouds, or the stars. I hunted wild berries and waded in the creek. We watched family shows with our parents at night, and Saturday morning cartoons. Sometimes the day was not even long enough to do everything I wanted to do, before the streetlights came on and we had to go in.

I do realize that a lot of the things I did are not even safe for my kids to do. But I think all the technology takes something away from our kids, and it makes me sad. I wish I could take them back with me for a day, because those days were truly magical!

Goals

2011-06-02T20:08:00.000-04:00

I was thinking earlier that I need to set some goals for myself. I tend to either NOT set them, and fly by the seat of my pants, or set really lame or unrealistic ones. Such as.....

Raise all of my kids to be fully functional members of society who do not grow up to live in my basement.

Get a house with a basement, because I'm pretty sure the above goal is never gonna happen.

Learn a really awesome dance routine for MC Hammers "Can't touch this" and win America's Got Talent with it.

Learn to play the drums and tour with Kid Rock. (If he stays country, scratch that and change to tour with Steven Tyler).

Go on a date with Peter Dinklage. I know I'm married, but Steve assures me that if Peter Dinklage ever asks me on a date, he will let me go.

Run a marathon. I have never run, but every time I see someone running or read about someone running a marathon, I envy them. Or maybe I envy their fabulous tush and legs. Yeah, that might be what it is.

I do have a real honest to goodness goal, and it doesn't suck, but that's a whole nuther blog.

The one where I try to save everyone except myself.

2011-02-05T20:52:00.000-05:00

One of the things I have struggled most with in my life is the need to “save” people I care about, or even people I just met and don’t know at all, from themselves or life in general. Here is a perfect example.

When I was in 8th grade, there was a girl in my class who was painfully shy. She came from a HUGE family of kids. She never spoke. Not that I heard, anyway. She just kept to herself. Sat alone at lunch. Always had her head down. She OBVIOUSLY needs me.

At first, I just started sitting by her at lunch. Not right next to, across from. I would say hi, and she would just nod. Without looking up. Soon, my friends starting sitting by us too. We were always joking and laughing. Sometimes I would catch her smiling at something someone said. Without looking up.

Now, just so you know, my group of friends were not the popular kids. We were the nerdy, kind of misfit kids. People didn’t dislike us, but we were not popular. So I guess I was just presuming that this girl needed a group of friends, and we were perfect for her!

Weeks went by. She had still not said a word, but she seemed to like all of our lunchtime antics.

So I decided to invite her to my birthday party. A sleepover. When I asked her if she wanted to come, she said the one and only word I would ever hear her utter.

“OK.”

I was so exited! Me and the other girls immediately started planning…..This girl would be so happy now! She would have a group of friends! Maybe we should give her a makeover…..teach her to disco dance……..fix her up with a boy!!! ( You see where this is going, right?)

Long story short. She comes to the party. We proceed to scare the crap right out of her. She calls her mom to come pick her up one hour into the party, and practically HIDES from me for the remainder of the school year. I felt really terrible.

I have done different variations of this over and over again in my life. I usually don’t even realize I am doing it until I am so embroiled in someone else’s life that I don’t know how to crawl back out of it. I end up attracting alot of users this way.

I am working on it. I really am. But I am not there yet. I will be, though. Someday.

And the winner is.......

2011-01-19T17:04:00.005-05:00

I'm not sure who's handing out the "Mommy of the Year" awards this year. But I'm pretty sure I'm not winning it. Here's why.

My seven year old is obsessed with death, Dna, and being adopted by Bigfoot.
She has already made me write down specific instructions for her funeral, just in case I am dead and can't be there to organize it. It goes something like this.

1. Beautiful pink dress.
2. Light colored casket with purple silk lining.
3. At least 200 people in attendence.
4. They all have to be singing and crying.

She also talks about Dna all the time. What is hers like. Should we have it tested, just in case. What if it isn't human. What if she is related to Bigfoot, and I am keeping that knowledge from the world, and her from her true parents, by refusing to have her Dna tested.

And her newest thing. Asking random people "If I was an orphan, and lived in an orphanage, would you adopt me?"
She asks people this right in front of me! It's even worse, because they usually can't understand her, and then I have to interpret the question.

Me : She wants to know if you would adopt her if she was an orphan.

Random stranger : Oh! Of course I would, honey! Isn't this your mommy, though?

Me : No, I'm her foster mom.

Uncomfortable silence.

..........................................................................................................................

Then there is my 13 year old son, who is the most angst-ridden teenager on the planet right now. He is questioning everything, and writing all sorts of dark thoughts down. And posting them on Facebook, where my entire family can read them.

His facebook life is some horrible purgatory in which his entire exsistence revolves around being tortured on a daily basis by popular kids, republicans and government spies.

His actual life is pretty laid back. He is homeschooled, only hangs out with people he chooses to hang out with, gets whatever he wants from his Dad, who has that kind of money to spend. And still calls me "Mommy."

By the way, I love my kids. They are just really really strange.

Don't judge.

To Amanda, with love

2011-01-16T23:16:00.004-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I found a homeschool coop in my area, or close enough, anyway. I called the lady who coordinates it, and she gave me the lowdown. Only about 12 families, cool classes. Meets every Friday for 4 hours. It sounded perfect for us!
So I gave her the lowdown. Three kids, one with Aspergers and alot of anxiety, one with a sleep disorder, who may or may not be asleep while we are there, and the tween daughter who gets along with everyone and also sleeps at night.
Last Friday was our first meeting. Nelda (sleep disorder) had been awake since sometime Thursday morning, but was still awake, so I was hoping she wouldn't fall asleep in the car. Jack (AS) got up and was ready to go 15 minutes before we had to leave (miracle!). And Abby, of course, was very excited.
I was excited because I was going to get to spend time with other adults who wouldn't question ANY of this!
We got there early (another miracle). Joy, the very nice lady I had met on the phone gets there a few minutes after us. We helped her unpack her car and carry stuff in.
The first thing she says when we get inside is "You can put your lunches over there!"
Um, lunches??
Yeah, we didn't have lunches. Okay. I happen to have some tortilla strips and cans of Sprite in the car, so minor embarrassment, but not horrible.
Then the other families start coming in. They all have tons of kids. There were 40 kids and only 3 or 4 sets of parents. It was like the Duggars meets Jon and Kate plus 8.
Nelda and Abby are blending right in, making friends and exchanging phone numbers before the thing even started.
Then I look around for Jack. He is standing in a corner of the hallway, pressed as far into the wall as he can go, and he had that blank look in his eyes that he gets when he is trying to magically transport to a different universe.
I try not to panic. I go over to him. "Jack, are you okay?" No response. "Jack?" Finally, his eyes focus slightly, and he says in monotone, "I would be more okay if I was at home now."
I try to explain that we can't leave, because Abby and Nelda would be devastated if we did, but I also realize I kinda need to get him out of the throngs of people right freakin NOW.
So I grab Joy and quickly explain. She is wonderful, of course, and tells me everything is fine, and go take care of your son.
I take him back upstairs where there are no people. He is now on his cell with his friend Daniel, who doesn't have a car or a drivers license, and is begging him to come pick him up. I finally get him calmed down, but he doesn't want me to leave. So now I am upstairs with Jack. Not downstairs meeting other adults or participating in all the festivities.
Thank God for my daughter Amanda. I felt the tears welling up, but I knew I couldn't start crying in front of Jack. He was still on the phone with his friend, desrcribing the horrors of the whole situation and trying to come up with an escape plan.
I called Amanda and explained the situation. I love that girl. She realizes I am about to lose it, and talks me down from it. She points out that it's okay if Jack isn't comfortable. If Abby, Nelda and I love it, we can keep going anyway. Jack doesn't need to love it.
So long story....er....less long, Jack agrees to hang out (mostly in the car) while the girls and I enjoy the rest of the session.
The girls loved it and can't wait to go back. I loved it. Especially the part where everyone just took what happened with Jack as no big deal and didn't have to give me advice on what I needed to do with him, or how I need to make him do things he doesn't want to do, because he needs to learn that.
Thank you, Amanda, because you know I would have left if not for you.
Have I told you lately that I love you?

Sometimes it's just the little things....

2011-01-15T23:59:00.001-05:00

I've had kind of a bad week. You know, soul-searching. Whining. Feeling sorry for myself. Whatever you want to call it.
So tonight, my husband and I were standing outside of our house, and we hear some chaos going on right down the street. It looked like two people were dragging something out of a car. And then they peel off. Now, to me, it looked like it might have been a person....it was dark, and we couldn't actually see. So I go running over there. And sure enough, it was a man, face down on the ground.
I rubbed his back, and he moved a little.
"Are you okay?" I ask, relieved he wasn't dead. He starts crying. He is obviously very drunk. And young. Probably not more that 25 years old.
I didn't really know what to do. I yell for Steve, who isn't coming over to help. So I try asking him if he lives around here. He is making no sense, but I finally gather that he's not from around here. And then starts staggering down the road, crying. He's not even wearing a coat.
I run back to my house, and tell Steve what's going on. He says I should call the police and let them deal with it.
Now, maybe I should have. I really didn't want to, because the guy has already been having a really bad night. I finally convince Steve, who now thinks I am a complete whack job, that we should offer him a ride home.
We get in the car and catch up to him. He is just a little farther up the road, walking around in circles and crying. I talk him into letting us take him home.
He ends up living about 40 minutes away, and it took awhile to get him to tell us where exactly he lived, but we eventually got him home, and I felt better.
Right now I am feeling three things.
The first is relief. I would have been worried about that kid for the rest of my life had we not helped him get home. The second is sadness. Because people don't just help other people anymore...you could actually tell this guy was kind of suspicious of us, and didn't even know if he should trust us to take him home.
And the third is the realization that maybe I don't need to do anything big and shiny to make a difference in this world.
I've been struggling with that a little. Being too hard on myself. Feeling kind of useless.
But because I'm me (even though my husband thinks I'm crazy) somebody's son, brother, nephew or whoever this young man is to the people who love him, got home safely tonight. And if that is the only important thing I ever do with my life, I'm okay with that.

To my children, with all my heart.

2011-01-02T01:01:00.003-05:00

I know I'm not the first person to write about being a mother, and I won't be the last. Motherhood is strange and wonderful...It's like being a member of the biggest club on earth, but it is also the most personal and singular thing you will ever do.

You start off with this tiny little baby, whom you will love with a fierceness that you never knew you possessed, and you will watch that baby grow into adulthood. And that impossible love you first felt for your child will grow by leaps and bounds every day for the rest of your life.

You will go through many seasons with your child. Seasons of closeness, love, joy, wonder, excitement, pride and understanding. Seasons of anger, disappointment, confusion, frustration and hopelessness. But the one thing that will never change is that deep love that you have for your child.

I am the best mother I know how to be. I'm not always right. I don't always do the right thing, and I am definitely far from perfect. Sometimes I don't have the answers, and that is hard. I can't always protect them, and that is the hardest part of being a mother.

I love my kids with all my heart. I want them to know I am always here if they need me, and that I will try to have the strength to cheer them on from the sidelines when they need me to let them go on their own.

According to Sufi mysticism, the soul of the child looks down at the world and sees every soul that resides in every woman. When the child finds the one that will be able to help them fulfill their life's purpose, they make their choice. I believe this with all of my heart, because two of my children told me when they were small that they actually remembered doing this.

Thank you for choosing me. I hope I will make you proud.

A paragraph isn't the whole story. It's just what happens before what happens next....

2010-12-29T00:57:00.003-05:00

This morning I went for an energizing run in the brisk morning air. My husband had fresh squeezed orange juice waiting for me when I returned home, which I sipped while catching up on the news and cooling down. I took a nice, long hot shower, letting the steam roll over me, clearing my head and soothing my muscles. I brushed my teeth, moisturized my skin top to bottom, and combed my hair.

Then I woke up.

I was on the couch, still in my clothes from yesterday. I was sandwiched between two cats and a seven year old child. My right arm was completely numb. My head felt like someone had slammed it in a car door. I was laying on what felt like a huge rock, but turned out to be a couple of Littlest Pet Shop toys. I carefully extracted myself from the heap of cats, toys, and child, and stumbled into the kitchen to make myself coffee.

That first paragraph is not totally a dream...my life used to resemble that at one time. The second paragraph is my life now. I love it, I hate it, I laugh, I cry.......But mostly I just try to get through to the next day without being too hard on myself or anybody else. We are all in this together, and life is just a series of paragraphs. You never know what the next one will be about.....