Single Parenting

My husband flew to San Fransisco yesterday and will be gone for a few days.  His company Atlassian, is having their annual Summit conference/meeting/group meet/corporate kegger, I'm not sure what it's all about.   I do know they announce all the cool stuff they are working on and geeks around the world oooh and awe.  In a few weeks he's going to fly back to San Fransisco and attend Google's conference/meeting/group/corporate kegger and do the same thing.  Only more geeks and more ooohing and aweing.

I'm happy for him, going to Summit is a big deal and preparing for it is a major part of his job.  Plus the added bonus of getting a personal invitation and free pass to attend Google's play date is a major coup for him.  It's wonderful that he's working with incredible people in a strong company with a strong future. 

But damn it!  It really is a pain in my butt when he goes away.  Now instead of seeing the kids for an hour at night and spending lots of time with them on the weekend it's me.  Every single bloody moment we're home.  Now, before you start with the, "Sheesh, quite whining, I LOVE my kids and cherish every moment with them" just don't.  I really am not even listening anymore.  I don't trust ANYONE who can say with a straight face, "I don't mind listening the same story about a bit on iCarly 14 times in 20 minutes" and "It doesn't bother me at all to listen to them voice their dismay about what's for dinner" and "Really, is doing 4 loads of laundry a day, every day all that bad?"  It's not normal, ok.  Even when I had a paying job I got 2 fifteen minutes breaks and an hour lunch break every day.  It's expected to need a breather from work....vacations/ holidays anyone???!!!  Human being are simply not meant to do one thing all day, every day and not flip out a bit.  It's the curse of having a brain...it doesn't like monotony.  Also, I have insanely high standards of personal space.  I always have, I can't stand close talkers and when I have people crawl all over me my skin starts it itch.  By the end of the day I do NOT want any one sitting on me, fighting with their sisters and smacking into me and DO NOT STEP ON MY FEET.  I will hurt you.

So here I am and my breaks are when the kids are in school.  6 hours of freedom to do what I what, when I want.  So how did I spend today's breather?  First hour at school.  AWESOME!  I had to schedule a meeting with Tessi's extra reading teacher today as it's the only day she's in and I really wanted to make sure she was on board with the dyslexia stuff and see what we need to be doing.  Then I met with the new school counselor.  I don't want to post a lot now about that meeting as nothing is for sure but let's just say we had an excellent conversation about Cyber bullying and what parents can do about it.  More accurately, what I may have a chance to do about it.  Will fill you in later.

Next on my whirlwind Sans Children Tour?  Westfield shops.  I hit 2 stores looking for warm quilts because I found out this morning that my darling son-WHO I SHOWED HIS SISTER'S CHARRED SHEET FROM USING THE ELECTRIC BLANKET - forgot and left his on all night.  Claimed he wasn't warm enough.  So I tried to find him a good heavy quilt so I can ditch the electric blanket.  Sadly, so is everyone else in the Hornsby Shire and the only ones left were the lovely $200 ones.  Again, before you do-gooders ask, "Can you really put a price on your child's safety?"  Yes, I can.  $200 for a quilt is too damn much.  Especially the week before one kids birthday and we're STILL recovering from Teddy's sudden growth spurt and needing new school shoes, sneakers, jumper (sweatshirt) and pants.  Leave me alone, I'm trying here.

The bit of shopping a bust I head on over to next part of my fun-filled morning.  Grocery shopping!  Hot8diggedy damn!  No, actually I'm serious about that one.  Anyone with kids will know my next statement is true: After you have shopped with your children, especially after school and they are at their BEST, you will kill whomever you have to not to do it again.  You can always spot the moms who have forgotten this rule.  They are standing at the counter waiting to pay, voice horse from screaming, children either sullen or still fighting but ALL out of arm's reach and she has the LOOK on her face.  The mom look that says, "Oh yeah, shopping with kids is the 9th Circle of Hell.  I forgot that.  My bad." The resolution in her eyes not to make that mistake again is unmistakable.  So yeah, I did my shopping during the day.

The one saving grace was Dan Murphy's.  The holy land of liquor stores.  Huge, lots of selection and right between the grocery store and the parking deck.  I really couldn't ask anything more.

Now that I'm home I will spend 1 precious hour doing what I WANT! - ie play on the computer and then some chores and back to pick up the minions.  Then we will begin our afternoon performance of "Fight and Argue Until Mommy's Head Explodes"  I used to think they did many shows a day of that particular piece but I've come to learn that it's one long act with the occasional intermission.  I don't know if it has the staying power of Cats but I suspect it will be a top-billed show for quite a few years. The reviews on it are mixed but you know what rat-bastards critics can be.  How can you judge art?

Tomorrow is my last chance at freedom as then we have the weekend and it will be All Mommy, All the Time.  What's making me a little nervous is that Connor was complaining that her head hurt today....first symptom of nasty virus that's going around.  Which with my luck means she'll be home tomorrow. Since Connor is afraid to be alone in her room if she's home sick she will be attached to my hip.  That means a 3-day weekend of Up Mummy's Bum.  I've changed my mind...that is art I'm willing to judge.

So watch the news tomorrow night people, you may be in for a rare treat, "And the crazy American, before turning the gun on herself....."

Just write on my tombstone, "Here lies Cecelia, she would have made it if her husband didn't have to go to a corporate kegger play date.  Hope he chokes on the booth weasel trinkets!"

Dyslexia....

....because Autism times two kids, Sensory Integration Disorder, debilitating anxiety, food allergies, pre-teen mood mood swings, an international move and being away from all your family wasn't enough for one family.  We now add Dyslexia to our laundry list of maladies.

Eh, much like having more kids in the house, what the Hell is one more?  As I talked to the doctor today and listed why I thought my little girl has this issue he lamented, "Sadly, knowing about won't make the living with it any easier"  I snorted a bit and he thought I was agreeing with him.  Get serious. I've spent almost 7 years in and out of doctors and therapists offices, thousands of hours searching online at Google University for anything that will make our lives better.  I know that the next 11-15 years of getting the girls through school are going to be mind-numbingly difficult. 

Finding out we have Dyslexia is like finding out there's a rash with a fever.  We're already sick here Mate, what the Hell is one more symptom.

I'm actually relieved.  I've known for a while that something was "off" with Tessi and her reading.  I couldn't put my finger on what exactly the problem was but as she's been growing up the problems have been more pronounced.  Now she's noticing there's a problem and it's just feeding her anger and that is never a good idea.  Tessi handles rage about as well as I handle sleep deprivation...it gets ugly, very quickly. 

However now I have something to grab onto and run with, so to speak.  We meet with the pediatrician in 2 weeks and get a plan of attack, hopefully.  I'm looking into pediatric occupational ophthalmologists, Dyslexia support groups, the school reading support teacher; whatever I need to.  This part is always the scariest with a new diagnosis - learning what to do.  When you get the Autism label you usually need a few weeks to get your head around the horrible word.  It was a full month before I could say it out loud without crying.  Then learning who you had to talk to, what therapies there were to try, deciphering the language of doctors, support groups, therapists and technicians.  You can have all the educational degrees in the world but in that beginning bit you are as lost as Kindy the first day of school.  Not to mention trying to breathe while under the enveloping veil of the death of your dreams for your child and the birth of the terror about their future that doesn't ever really go away.

But I'm not throwing up tonight.  I'm not laying my head on the table sobbing and begging for it to be over, not this time.  If we hadn't endured the last 7 years I very well might be.  I might be consumed with terror worrying about her having problems learning to read and therefore not being able to finish school on her terms.  Instead I'm realizing that my little girl's brain is playing tricks with her and I have to help her learn fight back.  That doesn't even sound that hard.  Oh, I know that there will be many, many hard days ahead and Tessi will have to work her hardest to retrain her brain, eyes, whatever she needs to do in order to survive.  But at least we know what is going on.  She's been fighting for years to be normal and like everyone else; at this point we really don't know any other way.

So bring on another degree from Google Uni!  If I keep this up I'll have more degrees than Ted and I'll be much less a snob about it.  Ok, maybe not.

Things Not to Wake up to On a Monday Morning

I'm not a morning person.  I don't mean that I have a hard time waking up, I mean I HATE waking up and I hate anyone who wakes me up.  It's in my genetic makeup I think.  My mother wasn't a morning person, even though my father was.  In fact, I remember her telling me that when they were first married she thought she would have to kill him, because he was "so damn cheerful"  Instead my mother decided to take a hit for love and every morning woke up 30 minutes before my dad so she could get her coffee and a cigarette in so she didn't drown "the simple son of a bitch in his corn flakes" - her words not mine.  She decided to do this one morning after she made him eggs for breakfast and his hap-hap-happiness made her lean over the table and stab the yolks on his plate and storm off.  The females in my family could get rather pissy about things.

So it's nothing personal.  For the most part I can't even see who it is trying to get my attention in the morning so it could be my kids, my husband, Mother Theresa or Ed McMahon with the Publisher's Clearing House check, I still hate them and am trying to use my mind powers to make their heads explode.  Don't panic though, so far I've failed miserably at using my telekinesis powers to force unwelcome sleep disturbers to have their heads go up in a fire ball so you should be clear.  But I'll tell ya, it hasn't failed from the lack of effort on my part. The good news is that by the time my mind registers that can't use my mind to incinerate someones head  and I start to turn to find a baseball bat I usually have woken up enough to remember that it's bad to kill people and that I probably shouldn't do that.  Also, pretty much everyone knows to stay out of arms reach of me...well, MY arm's reach any way.

This morning began as all school mornings do in my house, me desperately trying to ignore the bellowing cat demanding food and ignoring the girls fighting about....oh Hell, I have no idea what they were arguing about.  They were in their rooms screaming at each other through their connecting bathroom so I just enjoyed the simple pleasure of them NOT being in the same room with me.  Giving up the ghost,  I stumble out of bed and head into the bathroom.  On the way I trip over the damn cat as Monty has given up any pretense of meowing for food and was out-and-out trying to trip my ass into his food container.  Lovely cat.  Next time I catch him sleeping peacefully I'm going to put a lizard on his nose.  Well, I would if I'd actually touch the lizard, but the idea amuses me.

There's a banging at the door and the female offspring charge in.  I'm awake enough to remember that I'm related to them so I don't start my full on frontal assault.  I do remind them that they should wait until I say, "Come in" before entering but in all honesty, none of us are listening right now.  That's when Tessi demands that I go to her room and look at the black thing that cut a hole in her sheet.  Hmmmmm, this is an usual demand so I try to wake up a bit more and counter, "Um, wait....is it alive?"  In Australia this is a crucial piece of information and depending on it's answer my plan of attack will alter dramatically.  "No, no Mummy, that's silly.  It just ate a hole in the sheet and bit me during the night.  But it's not alive"  Riiiighht.  Being an avid fan of Doctor Who, that statement did NOTHING to ease my mind.  At all.  I know perfectly well to be shit-scared of inanimate objects that may or may not bite.

So I went to her room and saw this.

My daughter's electric blanket bunched up under her sheet and burned a hole in the sheet during the night.  That's what "bit" her. 

I don't care how much you hate mornings, how hard it is for you to wake up, even if you've had no sleep for a week....seeing a real fire hazard and a threat of serious harm and even death so close to your baby's little body....you will wake the HELL up.  As I was standing there it dawned on me how close this was to being bad.  She could have been horribly burned or killed.  Fire is so quick and so deadly.  If it ignited she would have been dead before I woke up...even if I did wake up like a normal person.

But it didn't.  There was no fire and she didn't even have a red mark.  This was one of those moments that occur a thousand times in a person's life.  Something horrible almost happens but in the end nothing bad occurs.  You can choose to learn from them or you can ignore them.  Many times I do ignore them.  Usually because of lack of time, money or usually just there is no  realization of the seriousness of the matter.  However this time, I'm going to go with learn from this moment and make sure that this morning is as bad it's going to get.

 Tessi had no idea how much danger she was in. I told her the electric blanket did it but that it was OK.  She wasn't even phased by it.  In fact her biggest concern was that her sheet was ripped and she wanted to know when she was getting a new one...also would the new one be cute and not that horrible blue color.  Also, she wanted to make sure that Connor DID NOT get a new one.  Only her.

I got her rainbow polka dots...hope it's OK.

Another Morning of Insanity or as I Call it, Friday.

Some times I wake up in the morning and think this is good.  I'm in a warm safe bed and I'm happy.  I know that maybe everything isn't alright but that's ok, we're all healthy and Life is pretty good.

Then I get jarred rudely awake from that fantasy dream and have to face what my morning actually is like.  3 kids, 1 dog and cat.  All in my face.  Fortunately I married well and my husband is already out the door so I don't have that silly "take care of the husband' crap.  Right now Ted, I love you.  Top of the list Baby.  As for the bottom of the list...

This morning started off bad a few days ago.  2 days ago I got a note from school saying there was a teacher's strike this morning.  SIDENOTE!  They strike differently in Australia.  Instead of going out on strike until demands are met and grievances aired they announce a work stoppage - teachers go to meetings and then go back to work.  I'm not sure what it accomplishes.  I'm very pro teacher but I fail to see how this forces the government to back down and do the right thing.  But that's another issue.  Back to my whining....I usually find the strikes a bit annoying but I support them - 2 generations out of the Pennsylvania Railroad and coal mines...yes, I'm pro-union.  But this time I had scheduled the washer repairman to come to my house between 9:30 and 12 and now the kids wouldn't be going to school until 11.  Grrrr.  If he gets here late there's no point in me dragging them out to school for just 2 hours.  Bugger.  Ok.  I've accepted and and we're moving on.  At least I can sleep in.

6:15 am  WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP!  Connor kicks in the door.  "Morning, Mummy.  Can I come in?  Tessi had an accident and weed on her bed.  Ooooh, is that the cat?  HERE KITTY!!!  Why doesn't Monty like me Mummy?  Why is he running away?"

I respond the only way I can, "Ahrump"

She leaves and a few seconds later another WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP!  Tessi kicks the door in, "Mummy, I WEED!!!!!  I don't know why, please mummy why did I wee?  Ooooh, is that the cat?  Hi Monty!  Come back Monty!  Mummy, Why doesn't Monty like me Mummy?  No one wants me around!!!!  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

I get a little more of Mummy Gumption raised and respond, "Ummmm"

This time I do wake up and stumble around until I get things cleaned up.  This is when I noticed that when Connor was sent to her room yesterday to clean she hasn't done a God.Damned.Thing.  You know how I know?  Her brand new Star Wars Fighter Pods are on the floor and under my feet.  Marvy, something new to hate more than LEGO and Littlest Damn Pet Shop.

I heard the kinder downstairs and begin the day.  No one wants to eat breakfast and honestly I don't care.  Every time I let them skip out of breakfast I can hear my mother's voice, "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" scraping through my brain.  It helps to put ear buds in at that point so you can't hear that crap.

We move along and as I get tired of listening to the fighting over what show to watch - Really?  Does it matter that much if it's "Total Drama Island" or "iCarly"  Really?  Both are total shite....  So I start dispensing chores.  Yes, I became popular real quick.  Teddy takes Damn Dog on death march and the girls are sent to ignore the crap...er um, I mean clean up the crap in their rooms.  I dont' care if they are ignoring it, I just want quiet downstairs.  Teddy returns with a happy dog and I send him off to his room to clean.  That's when the next phase of my morning began.

"Oh God!  REALLY?  Sasha, REALLY??!!  Why??!!", Teddy's bellows can be heard throughout the house.  Well, so much for my quiet moment.  Now I know this isn't good.  I grudgingly head to the boy's room and yes, Sasha has pooped ALL OVER THE FLOOR.  Now I'm not one for scatological humor because I just don't see that there is anything funny but I must share with you what I learned about animals on the floor there.  I learned that when you find that the 2 gallon container of rice in the pantry is contaminated with weevils because some dumb ass didn't close the lid right you should NOT take the rice and put it out in a secluded section of the yard so the possums can have some dinner.  No.  Don't do this because instead of 5-10 possums finding it one large damn stupid pain-in-the-ass dog will find the.entire.ever-loving.batch.  Now, we do know that rice is ok for dogs to eat but it would seem that a large amount, say about 2 gallons or about 7 litres worth of rice is not ideal for one rat bastard puppy's sensitive digestive system.  It was at this point that Monty and his "drag the squealing mouse under my bed during the night" punk-ass was redeemed a bit and he moved back above Sasha in my "I Will Kill You With My Bare Hands" list.  Congratulations Monty.  

So, as I am standing there cleaning this up Teddy, God love him, is standing next to me saying, "Oh Mom, thank you so much.  I'm so sorry, Thank you."  It's sincere.  I did say, "Next time you wonder why I send your little ass over to the expensive table for Mother's Day presents, I want you to remember this"  We shared a moment there I believe.  A connection.  Don't know how long it will last but after I was done cleaning and I washed my hands in Napalm he made me a cup of tea.  I was very grateful and said so in between my shouting at Sasha, "Some day you're going to die Dog and when you do I'LL DANCE ON YOUR GRAVE!"

For my animal loving friends out there...I know many of you will find that last bit disturbing.  Please try to cut me some slack and keep in mind that I didn't hit or kill the dog.  Nor did I open the gate shouting, "VIA CON DIOS!!!"  That HAS to count for something

It's now 9:30 and now Connor is pestering me for food.  When I tell her she can't have candy she wails, "But I'm hungry!  Won't you let me eat ANYTHING??!!"  I respond, "Yes, damnit!  Go eat your breakfast!"  Sigh...damn it Mom.....

The Force was Strong with this Party

To quote Shrek, "I don't mean to brag...."  well, maybe I do.  You see, I am a bit of a Jedi Master with Star Wars parties.  Kids parties to be exact as my party tricks wouldn't work so well with the older set.  I can't see too many grown ups taking a whack at a pinata.  But then again, you never know.  Maybe I will have to think about a grown up party.  However for now, I will stick with kids.  This past Saturday we had Connor's birthday party with the Star Wars theme and all bragging aside it kicked major ass.  You know you have a winner when 2 kid leave saying, "This was the best party ever!"  And a few more pissed off when they heard it was over.

We began with this:

 Padme Amidala and Ashoka Tano in the house Ladies and Gentlemen!  Teddy was there also but starting his duties as Cabana Boy.

Of course one of the coolest parts about a party like this is naming the food.  Hoth Dogs, Sith Sushi, Qui Gon Chips, Vader Tators and Wookie Cookies.  The Wookies Cookies were the biggest hit and almost didn't happen as I was running out of time.  Tim Tams and Writing Gel go a LONG way.

The first part of our party was a welcoming in session and to entertain the kids in small groups as they arrived I put on the Xbox Kinect Star Wars game.  If you have an Xbox, Kinect and even the tiniest interest in Star Wars leave the computer now and go buy this game.  It is stunningly awesome.  Seriously.  If you are a serious gamer, in fact if you have desecrated the English language and actually turned the word game into a verb, ie, "Yes, I game on the weekends and every moment in between"  No, this game isn't for you.  But then again, neither is this blog so leave now.  But for the rest of us mere mortals, yes, this game is full of sheer brilliance.  See below.

  When the baddest man in the galaxy, Lando Calrissian is leading the troops in a Galactic dance Off - you have a winner.

We also played Star Wars Bingo.  A classic game with an extra flair.  Since not all of our guests were die-hard Star Wars lovers (I know, I thought that was weird too) I had to describe the pictures as I drew the cards out of the box.  When I called out Y-Wing on Yavin, of course my son, Head Cabana Boy Teddy, had to correct me and shout out, "She means Yavin 4!"  Thank you Pumpkin, I see where that might have been confusing to some.

Next up the traditional "Make Your Own Lightsaber and become a Jedi" section.  A hit with all ages.  This is my FAVORITE party trick because it's insanely easy.  You don't need too much fuss.  Cut a pool noodle in half, hand them a strip of duct tape to make the handle and hand them a colored circle sticker to put on to make the on/off switch.  That's it.  You really need nothing else.  Keep your eye on things though as the swinging starts immediately.  We headed across the street to get some Jedi Training - ie, Beat the Hell out of the Cabana Boys.  My older boys who were too cool for the party but not old enough to drive off on their own.

Of course, being from Texas, you aren't allowed to have a home birthday party without a pinata.  Of course, we couldn't just have a regular pinata so here is Connor and me with the Death Star Pinata.  Yes, I'm aware it looks more like the egg shaped thing from Jimmy Neutron, SILENCE!  I've decided that glitter fixes everything and the more glitter there is the more gets fixed.  Be quiet.

Then the party shifted to your more traditional fare.  Eating cake and opening presents.  Where we shifted back to our odd little universe was after the presents opened.

Another war was declared on the Cabana Boys and they were forced to flee into the rocky backyard.  As you can see Connor decided the Force wasn't enough to vanquish her enemies so she and her friends brought out the Nerf guns as back up.  Run Cabana Boys, RUN.

A great evening was had by all.  My beautiful Connor had her Star Wars party and hopefully learned that girls are allowed to be Scifi geeks too. If nothing else, thanks to this blog if someone else Googles "Star Wars Girls" there will be one normal listing amongst all the geek fan boy weirdness.

I know Teddy learned a powerful lesson as he went to bed early lamenting the speed and strength of Connor's friends and their lightsaber fighting skills.

Let that be a lesson to all:  Never underestimate a chick's ability to whack the Hell out of you with a pool noodle lightsaber.

Happy Birthday Connor.  You were the prettiest Padme I ever saw.

Parenting VS Music

I have a wicked head cold today and MUST be up and moving tomorrow and Saturday so I'm spending today doing nothing more constructive than sitting on my ass and reading.  So blogging of course came to mind.

Teddy presented me with another dilemma yesterday.  He asked me to get him the song Whistle.  Sure, I thought no problem.  As the song was downloading I noticed that the singer was Flo Rida.  I'm not into hard core rap but I have heard of him.  So I listened to the song.  Pretty, catchy, well bubble gum music.  Hmmm, very odd considering this dude's rep.  I have a hard time catching all the lyrics so I searched Google and came up with the lyrics.  Here they are case you don't know the tune.


Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Let me know
Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Here we go

I'm betting you like bebop
And i'm betting you love creep mode
And i'm betting you like girls that give love to girls
And stroke your little ego
I bet i'm guilty your honor
But that's how we live in my genre
When I hell I pay rottweiler
There's only one flo, and rida
I'm a damn shame
Order more champagne, pull it down hellstream
Tryna put it on ya
Bet your lips spin back around corner
Slow it down baby take a little longer

Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Let me know
Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Here we go

Whistle baby, whistle baby,
Whistle baby, whistle baby

It's like everywhere I go
My whistle ready to blow
Shorty don't leave a note
She can get any by the low
Permission not approved
It's okay, it's under control
Show me soprano, cause girl you can handle
Baby we start snagging, you come in part clothes
Girl i'm losing wing, my bucatti the same road
Show me your perfect pitch,
You got it my banjo
Talented with your lips, like you blew out candles
So amusing, now you can make a whistle with the music
Hope you ain't got no issue, you can do it
Give me the perfect picture, never lose it

Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Let me know
Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Here we go

Whistle baby, whistle baby,
Whistle baby, whistle baby

Go girl you can work it
Let me see your whistle while you work it
I'mma lay it back, don't stop it
Cause I love it how you drop it, drop it, drop it, on me
Now, shorty let that whistle blow
Yeah, baby let that whistle blow

Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Let me know
Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby
Here we go

Whistle baby, whistle baby,
Whistle baby, whistle baby


Okay - yes this song is about exactly what you think it is. Since my mother-in-law reads this blog let's just use the polite terminology and say oral sex.  Teddy wasn't trying to pull a fast one on me and sneakily get me to get him a naughty song.  I know this because I talked to him and I saw his face when I asked him if he knew what, "blow my whistle" meant.  Horror doesn't quiet describe it.  He really just heard the song and thought it was catchy.  Like a Bruno Mars song.

Here's my dilemma.  I like all different kinds of music.  ALL kinds, Hell there are even 3 or 4 country songs I listen to.  I listen to some pretty out there kind of stuff too. Songs I don't think people would associate with Mom Crowd. Rob Zombie, Godsmack, Rammstein and the like.  I also love songs with obscene lyrics.  Cee Lo Green, LOVE THAT SONG!  I also love Monty Python and South Park songs.  My husband used to be a serious thrash metal devotee.  Is this one of those times I should be hypocritical and deny my son a song he likes simply because the lyrics are a bit risque?  I know I have to be a hypocrite about drinking, speeding while driving and some of my computer keyboard antics.  I get that.  I'm constantly temding Ted, "Don't laugh at that!! We are not on his side any more!!!" Also I have NO problem about cutting out songs because they extol the virtues of "beating the hoes"  No problem whatsoever.  I also ban music because in my opinion it sucks.  Sorry, step back Boy Bands, just not cool with it.

Where is the line drawn in the parental hypocrisy?  I'm not for censoring music.  Be who you are.  If I don't like it I won't drink the cool aid.  I WANT my kids to be that way.  I want them to grow up and have them want artists to be free.  I want them to scream against injustice.  Champion the little guy.  Be superheroes...no capes though.  Incredible taught me that was dangerous.

On the other side I really don't want my kid learning about sexual techniques yet.  He's not even 12.  He has his whole life to be a grown up and deal with grown up issues.  I want him to be a kid, a real kid for as long as it's helpful to him.


Of course what's sticking in my craw is THIS song:

Come out Virginia, don't let me wait.
You Catholic girls start much too late.
Aw, but sooner or later it comes down to fate.
I might as well be the one.

Well, they showed you a statue, told you to pray.
They built you a temple and locked you away.
Aw, but they never told you the price that you pay
for things that you might have done.
Only the good die young.
That's what I said,
only the good die young.
Only the good die young.

You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd.
We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud.
We might be laughing a bit too loud,
aw, but that never hurt no one.

So come on Virginia, show me a sign.
Send up a signal, I'll throw you the line.
The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind
never lets in the sun.
Darlin', only the good die young.

I tell ya,
only the good die young.
Only the good die young.

You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation.
You got a brand new soul,
mmm, and a cross of gold.
But Virginia, they didn't give you quite enough information.
You didn't count on me
when you were counting on your rosary.

They say there's a heaven for those who will wait.
Some say it's better, but I say it ain't.
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,
the sinners are much more fun.

You know that only the good die young.
Whoa, oh, baby.
That's what I said,
I tell ya,
only the good die young.
Only the good die young.

Said, your mother told you "All that I could give you was a reputation."
Aw, she never cared for me,
but did she ever say a prayer for me?

Come out, come out, come out Virginia, don't let me wait.
You Catholic girls start much too late.
Sooner or later it comes down to fate.
I might as well be the one.
You know that only the good die young.

I'm telling you baby.
You know that only the good die young.
Only the good die young.
Only the good,
only the good die young.

Only the good die young.
Only the good die young.



I remember the furor this song caused. People went bat-shit crazy about this song. A song about a young guy desperate to hook up with his girlfriend. I remember even years later when I was in high school hearing how this song was banned in most schools-are these really the people I want to line up along side?

The Effect of TV on a Normal Mind.

Being a child of the seventies I have watched a fair amount of TV.   Alright, a LOT of TV.  I grew up watching wholesome (because it was the only thing on) family entertainment.  Well, at least what passed my mother's eyes as wholesome.  I only watched Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley and Brady Bunch behind her back because she hated those shows.  I saw All in the Family, Soap, MASH, Masterpiece Theatre, Monty Python, Battlestar Gallactica, Star Trek, and re-runs of the the classics, Leave it to Beaver, Bewitched, I Dream of Jeanie and some other shows in black and white, I just can't remember.  Hmmm, maybe that list of shows does explain a bit about my personality.

It's true, what you see does influence you.  Watching those shows I saw family life portrayed in ways that were hideously NOT like my life.  One would think that would have taught me that TV is not reality but no.  Instead I grew up hoping to have that idyllic setting in my house.  At least that's what I think I did.  I have no conscience memory of pining for this Utopian lifestyle but I think I must have.  I mean why else would my reality drive me so damn crazy if I wasn't secretly wishing for a better way.  If I knew and understood that in reality kids are psychotic - especially in the morning, wouldn't I have accepted years ago that it will not be any different? 

No.  Obviously, deep seated in the recesses of my mind there was a message implanted that gets triggered like the sleeper agents in Battlestar Gallactica, the new one, not the old one.  Yes!  That's it.  Messages get turned on and off in my brain telling me that families don't have to act like this and if I keep struggling like the stupid spawning salmon I will achieve the goal..the Harmonious Family.  That must be it.  There is no other possible rational explanation for me to keep trudging along trying to correct this insane destructive  behavior and instead embrace it and just try to keep the house standing.  It's TVs fault.  Whew.  What a load off of my mind.

So tomorrow when Teddy and Connor start sniping at each other 30 seconds after waking I will just sip my tea.  10 minutes later when they are still going at it I will casually play on my phone.  I'll do that instead of what I did today which was snapping, "Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph you two!  Stop talking to each other.  Don't look at each other, don't stand near each other, don't touch each other, DO NOTHING!!"  See that got me nothing because not 2 minutes later Teddy starting griping at Connor for dropping the bread bag on the floor and Connor retaliated by yelling back.  See, I would have saved myself the aggravation if I had just accepted the futility of it all.

This is liberating.

The next time Tessi starts sobbing because Connor never lets her talk instead of me replying, "Pot, meet Kettle, nice of you two to meet"  Now the sarcasm is funny but it doesn't help.  Because deep inside I'm hoping that Tessi will some day realize, "Hey, does she mean that I do that too?"  Of course she won't.  And why?  Because life is nothing like TV.  Real kids don't learn life lessons in 22 minutes.  It takes YEARS, if ever.  Right now, I'm voting on never.  I've had Teddy in my life for 11 1/2 years and after all this time he still doesn't understand that whatever he does I will find out about it and I will get angry when he gets caught.  He honestly believes he can fool me.  Teddy is utterly baffled when I know that when he's been sent to his room to clean and 20 minutes later he stumbles out and it looks the same I know that he hasn't done anything.  I'm not exaggerating.  He stood there yesterday seething with anger when I told him I knew he was lying about cleaning.  He could not imagine how I had figured it out.  But now I see what my mistake was...it was when I yelled threatened and argued with him.  Now I know that watching happy  TV families has led me to believe that when you tell someone to clean their room they will do it.  What I should have done was walked in, seen the filth and tell him to try again.  When he starts to sputter that he has been cleaning I will just use the Air Horn app on my phone.  Then I will say, try again and walk out.  Rinse, lather, repeat.

See, no yelling.  I accept that he's going to lie and I get to use my iPhone in a fun way.  This could work. I have a constant battle with sore throats and headaches.  Maybe implementing this acceptance of lunacy will help me cut down on that.  Just walking around the house tripping on Littlest Pet Shop pieces, the Nerf bullets and more Barbie shoes than Mattel ever meant one household to have I see that all my yelling and cajoling have not helped.  Because I have been searching for that Norman Rockwell picture of the life I've ended up with physical pain and a near permanent eye-twitch.

So join in with me people.  It's time to lower your standards.  When you feel the need to ask, "Are you out of your mind?"  Remember the answer is yes.  It's them, not us.    Accept the lunacy and ride the wave of stupidity.  You will have to remind them flush the toilet 4 years after they've started using it.  They will pour milk into the bowl until it overflows for no other reason than they can.  Your two oldest children will get into a screaming match with each other over who has to turn the TV off AND then glare at you and say they weren't fighting.  As sure as death and taxes these are the absolute truths of life with kids.

Save your sanity people.  Speak softly and carry the Air Horn App.  And watch TV about psychopaths.  THAT'S reality TV.

The Truth of Parenting

STOP!  

Before you read any further I would like to suggest that if you do not have children please don't read.  In fact, step away from the computer and run like Hell to the nearest pub or whatever you do for fun when you don't have kids.  Go now.  You'll find out why later.

I say this because I'm going to reveal a parenting truth.  If this gets out to the wrong people the population growth will come to a grinding halt.  We'll be like China 30 years after the 1 kid rule...only a little less barbaric and evil in their methods of forced birth control.

There are 1000's of parenting books already printing to share the cumulative wisdom of generations about child rearing.  However the joke is that they never tell perspective parents what they really need to know.  I have purchased many of those books and all they tell you about is the basic mechanics of things.  Food, illness and potty-training.  The trifecta of child rearing.  But let's be honest.  Any jackass can keep a healthy child alive.  Food in one end.  Clean up the the other end.  Every so often give them some Tylenol/Panadol and some ice cream.  It's really not that hard.  You know that's true.  Remember that complete moron you overheard at the shops the other day?  The one who didn't know that  bananas are a fruit or maybe thought that the police would come and arrest them for taking those tags off of the pillows?  Maybe they announced that they didn't know the capitol of the state they grew up in.  Usually it's the person who tries to draw you into a conversation nice Walmart is for remembering all the holidays when they advertise ham for Chanukkah (yes, they did...google it)  Well my friends, those people have kids.  Kids that have survived.  So by Christ, if those yahoos can do it so should you.

The problem those people don't get bogged down by the real challenges in parenting.  The truth of it all.  See I can keep a kid alive day to day.  What I'm having trouble with is the quirky nuances that no one warned me about.  I'm only going to talk about one today as it will do my head in to list everything.  So here goes.

 Memory 

Kids have either have an eidetic memory and will quote things that happened 3 years ago at totally inappropriate times or have no recollection of the the events that have occurred longer than 10 seconds ago.  There is no middle ground.  Connor will tell me exactly what I said about someone's mother 3 years ago when I didn't even think she was in the room.  She will tell me this in front of the person I was talking about.  In fact Connor reminded me yesterday that two years ago, on a Tuesday, she asked when she'd be allowed to stay up until 8pm.  I said when she was 8 she could stay up until 8.  She turns 8 in a few days.....damnit.  I tried to tell her that it was probably her dad who said that so it didn't count but neither of us really believed it.  This is the same child who can not remember where her shoes are.  She has STEPPED OVER her shoes to walk to me crying to ask me to look for them.   

My poor Tessi is having such a hard time with her reading that it's really upsetting her.  She's having trouble doing her favorite subject of math because she can't read it.  So I read the questions to her and she does it all in her mind. She forgets nothing.   It's scary to watch her do it.  Of course on the other side today she put her sports uniform on and her regular shoes because she couldn't remember that she should wear sneakers.  This same child who has learned the ingredients for and can make a bacon quiche by herself can not remember to flush the toilet.

Teddy?  Ahhh yes, the boy.  He can remember every single time I've sworn in front of him and remember every word I don't want him to say.  And then he forgets that his Steam and iTunes account gets emailed to me so I know when he buys a new game, song or app without telling me.  This is the same child that got confused at his high school orientation when we were told to get in a group by school....I had to remind him that he went to Normanhurst Public.

The trick of parenting is handing the trips between perfect memory and no memory without going ballistic and killing everyone in your path.  So far I think I'm handling things well because the worst that's happened is that I've gotten a massive headache and my eye starts twitching.  I haven't' actually killed anyone yet.  Although it has been close some days.

So when you're out and about don't judge someone's parenting skills by the health or appearance of their child.  Look at the parent.  If she has a twitching eye or blinks a little too much THAT's the good mom.  She's being driven completely insane and the kids are still alive.  Who cares if the shoes all match or if there's dirt on someones face or shirts?

So Last Night Was Interesting

My Monday afternoons are chaotic. I don't say busy because technically we only have 2 activities and I do get to come after school before we head out so I do have time to organize things.

Yesterday started no different and at 4:40 the girls and I headed out for Piano and Basketball. Now that gets tricky because piano is at 5 and basketball is either 5:00 or 5:15. They are only 2 minutes away from each other so I've been juggling. I either have a pissed off Tessi sitting in car with me during Connors lesson or I'm racing to get Tessi to game but I always have a pissed off Connor sitting with me during Tessi's game. Thea beat part about that is the basketball court is so loud I can hardly hear Connor whining. Sadly though, it's so loud that I can feel my ear drums liquefying.

So we're driving along and I make the same right hand turn I make 4 times a day when suddenly there is this god Awful FWAPOW!!!!!! sound coming from (I think) the engine of the car and then this strangling, dying, robotic cat scheme echoing sound starts belching from the car.

Immediately I figure this can't be good so I try to pull off the road so I can safely stop-many thanks to my fellow drivers decided to teach me a lesson and try not to let me over. Sadly for them I learned to drive on the New Jersey Turnpike and I drive an SUV. Suck it boys, Mamas changing lanes.

Of course what made this even more fun was Connor and Tessi's reaction to all of this. Obviously using Kenny G's circular breathing technique together they launched into a verbal tirade.
Girls: MOMMWHATDTHATNOISE? DIDYOUHEARTHAT? WHATISHPPENINGDONTYOUTHINKYOUSHOULDSTOPDIDYOUCRASH? I REMBERWHENDADYCRASHEDTHEBKUECAR! ITWASALONGTIMESGOYOUWERENTINTHECARDIDHETELLYOU? WHATDIDWEHITWASITALIVEOHNODIDYOUKILLNATURE???!!

Obviously I am in tune with my girls and I know the best way to handle them in a difficult situation.

Me: JESUSCHRISTWHATWASTHAT? CHRISTDIDIDROPTHETRABSMUSSIONLEYMEOVERYIUBASTARDS!!WILLYOUTWOSHUTTHEHELLUPIDONTKNOWWHATIHIT! HOWCANIKNOWWHATIIHITITSUNDERTHECARAMIUNDERTHEDNCAR?

As you can see we were having a reasonable conversation considering the situation.

I get the car pulled over and stop and start looking around the car. This of course happens after I tell the girls if they get out to help me I will kill them dead. Looking under the front of the car I see a cooler (esky for my Aussie friends) wedged under the engine. It's one of those soft aided ones with a hard plastic bucket interior. I'm sure it worked quite well when it wasn't under my car.

Here's where the interesting part comes in. I can't pull the damn thing out. The plastic is so solid that I cant bend it and since I just wanted to stop the car quickly I didn't pay attention to the raid and I've parked on a slight decline so I can't even see well enough it try and find a way to get it out.

So I dug out the jack and set it up to lift up the car. I calmly ask the girls to de-car and I jack up the car, despite the decline and ask the girls to pull out the offending cooler.  This was a great way to include them as now as they tell people about the story, and yes they have told many, many people, the story now ends with them saving us by getting the cooler out.  I guess I was more of a producer/director rather than an actor.  That's ok, I don't need the glory.  What I do need is a drink however.  And yes, I do now consider this particular Monday a busy afternoon.