Changing Job Title but Keeping Job Description

A few weeks back I said that I had finally defined my job. A mission statement if you will.

I reject your reality and I substitute my own.  I stole it from Adam Savage from Mythbusters.  Proudly so I might add.

I think it sums up a lot of what I've been doing the last 11 1/2 years. A toddlers reality is pitching a fit in the store to get a toy, I reject this reality by thumping  a tush or ignore and move on. My daughter at 6 is still pulling the same crap because in sense of self-development she still is a toddler -another joy of Autism, you get to have a 2 year old for YEARS!!!, for her I use the latter technique. I say that because while the darling expert parents insist that all these brats pretending to be Autistic just need a good ass-kicking, sadly it doesn't work that way. I know, it's a shock you people are wrong, what with all your years in early childhood education, but there it is. Sorry, learn to live with disappointment.

The next reality to be crushed is the little girl "bitch" movement that sadly is starting earlier and earlier with our daughters. My girls will pick on someone to make themselves feel better and I crush that reality by demanding apologies, saying same crap to them and ask how they like and of course the classic, "You can't make of her shoes because you are all wearing the same black death school shoes...you twit". In a loving caring kind of way of course. It's awful to watch and I LOATHE gender stereotyping but it's true.  Girls, even the nicest, sweetest ones will turn on each other like feral harpies looking for a slow painful kill.  And they'll do it over jewelry and hair bows.  Several of my mom friends and I are on constant patrol for Bitchygirlitus and work with each other and sometimes the teachers against the girls and crush their plans.

Now onto my current reality rejecting job. The crushing of coolness and awesomeness. It is Connors reality that at 7 she knows she must own and wear strapless dresses. This I have compromised and have only partially crushed. Yes, I caved and made the dress but she can only wear it around the house. That way it can constantly fall to her waist in relative obscurity. She feels adult and fashion forward and I feel like I've done my part to keep away the pedophiles.  The other coolness I crush is Teddy's self perceived awesomeness.   Arrogance doesn't really accurately describe his behavior.  I'm starting to believe that he believes he would walk on water but right now he doesn't feel like doing all the exercise.  He thinks he is too evolved to do chores and speak to his sisters in a civil tone. I crush that reality do my best "the Lord Giveth and Mom Taketh away" spiel.  It's a pretty good spiel.  I can't stand uppity prats so it's fairly easy to come up with ways to torment them.  Hell, I've been doing THAT JOB since I was a teen.

But enough about job titles descriptions.  I am slowly learning that my actual title of MOTHER is changing and I can't seem to do anything about it.  If I was in a paying job I would at least have the recourse of filing a complaint with HR or more subtly talk to my boss about the change in my title and or duties.  Now my job title is being altered by the people who work for me.  This is a shift in management dynamics that I never knew was an option.  I know a lot of companies are doing the whole, "We are all equal on the same team nonsense" but in the end, NO ONE is telling the boss to change their title to SUCKY BOSS....at least not to their faces.  See I've gone from MOTHER to BAD MOTHER.  By that I'm not talking about the piddling, "I don't like my mother, she makes me eat veggies"  No, no.  I'm talking about the, "My mother is a bad person.  She hates me and it's her or me and I chose me"  The writing on the wall in my house is that Teddy is in terrible torment because of the oppressive rule of the MAN.

That last statement should be WOMAN I know but the historical context of the MAN just was too good to pass up.  I say, let's take a little poetic license, live Life on the edge and be done with it but hey, maybe you want to add to my list of crappy things I've done today.  That's cool.  The list is growing longer by the minute.

Back to our story.  By oppression I mean he is completely disheartened and downtrodden by my insane insistence that he stop trying to argue with his 6-year old, mildly Autistic sister as he does with his peers and me.  He thinks those last two terms are synonymous but that's part of that reality crushing gig I have going right now.  It's a work in progress.  Teddy actually thinks that it's reasonable for him to tell his sister to "Stop being a slacker" and "hang up more clothes on the line" even though he is 1. A good foot taller than her and she can't reach the line like he can and 2.  Because of her glasses she can't see as well as he can, certainly not rows and rows of thin clothes line and 3.  He needs to hang up the damn clothes too.  For me to actually insist on telling the both of them to knock it off and hang up the damn clothes before I find more chores for BOTH of them to do is blatant favoritism towards his cunning sister and an obvious attempt on my part to extract free slave labor from his sensitive hands.

If that isn't enough I had the gall to suggest that if he slammed one more thing or rolled his eyes or flipped up his shoulders I would keep finding chores for him to do.  The Hell never ends.  Then dear God, I did it.  I ACTUALLY saw him answer yes when I asked, "Is anyone still planning on being crappy to each other?" and I sent him outside to sweep the leaves off of the steps .  Then, the bitch I am, I went outside and declared publicly, where everyone in the world could hear the shame, that he continued with this crap that was fine with me I'll find chores for him to do all damn day so we didn't have to be around each other.

What.the.Hell.is.going.on.here? Truly it is a world gone mad.  Hmmm, that's actually what BOTH Teddy and I keep saying.

What I find most amusing and no, there isn't a lot, is that what I'm doing isn't really that different.  I've always been an pain in the kids' asses....collectively speaking.  I have always expected certain things and come crushing down down like the fist of God when the expectations haven't been met.  Hello?  Is he new?  When have I EVER let him get away with being an ass to me?  I'm the mom who tore him a new asshole in front of half the school when he was 7 and he tried to run away from me and make me chase him down the street.  I destroyed his soul that day,  I did it publicly and I was happy to do it.   About 6 months ago I overheard a friend of his ask him why he didn't have Minecraft yet.  Teddy replied that I had said no.  The friend said, "Just keep asking her, she'll cave"  - yes he did.  He really said that.  I heard Teddy snort and whisper, "Are you crazy, you know what she's like"  and yes, I AM LIKE THAT.  Nag me for crap I've already said no to?  I'll get it for everyone else in the family BUT you.   I'm the one one who just a few weeks ago froze his computer, xbox and tv privileges and laughed at him while I did it.

However now, doing the exact same things has given him the authority to think me even more monstrous, more evil.  OK...well...I'm afraid Teddy, my darling Love that it is you or me and I chose me.  See, if I don't spend the next few years being the enemy from Hell for you I'm afraid that you are going to turn into the arrogant, megalomaniac, snot-nosed, "The World Owes Me" and "all should kneel before Zod" type of jerk that no normal person can stand.  I can't handle a lifetime of that.Apparently we get to have you back in a few years.  I've heard several moms say the kid you have as a child returns as an adult if you can survive the teen years.

7 1/2 more years to go.  Until then my darling, ask not for whom the bitch tolls, the bitch tolls for thee.


I wonder if John Donne was a bad parent too...

Rejecting Realities

I have canteen duty today and sometimes I like to wear a funny t-shirt.  Something that amuses me and usually makes people stare at me a bit.  This is getting harder and harder to do as 1) I've already worn my cool ones and haven't bought  more and 2) it's harder and harder to raid Ted's closet 4 out of 5 shirts are Atlassian ones with jokes that only Atlassian employees get.

I found this one this morning, "I reject your reality and substitute my own"  A classic Mythbusters one.  As I was debating it's merits I realized that it was more than a funny saying, it's my damn job description.  That's the stage I've reached with the boy, formerly known as my son.  I'll type his name again when I can stand to see it or his face without gritting my teeth.

Yesterday, nope still too pissed to type it all, let's just say he did something so stupid that it's almost impressive.  The impressive part lies in his reasoning for doing it and his thoughts for being sure he'd get away with it.  Mainly that he forgot that I get email conformations when he buys games and he was sure he could convince me that he actually bought it months ago with his dad's approval.

See his reality now is that he can lie and get away with it.  He doesn't like something and he will lie.  He lies when it makes more sense to tell the truth.  It's bizarre to watch him spin his web of deception and think that another human being will believe him.  He really becomes quite enraged when I am so discourteous as to not only point out the lie but then have the gall to call him a liar. 

Mainly because the more he says it the more it becomes real.  His reality.  My job is to reject it.  And oh I am.  I told him yesterday that we both knew I could not force him to stop lying.  It's silly to even suggest that I can.  What I can do is make his life a living HELL when he is caught.  He tried to be cool and come back with, "My life already is Hell"  Funny, that one is.  That one almost made me smile.  He really believes that this is the worst part.  I'm not going to do what that parent in North Carolina did and shoot his computer...but I do plan on making him wish for it.  At least then it will be over.

So from now on when someone asks what I do as a Stay at Home Mom I will answer with an official, t-shirt sanctioned job description.  I reject your reality and substitute my own. 

I need to get it printed on different colors though....constant black might be intimidating.