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...

A Year Has Passed By

On Feb 18th last year I found out that an old dear friend committed suicide.  I get confused about the exact date because he died in the US and when I got the email I stopped caring about dates.  So I'm just going to say he died a year ago today and say to Hell with the International Dateline.

Time does march on and so does life.  I don't cry nearly as often as I did.  I go about my day whining about my kids and dealing with the woes of cricket, piano and kids who tell lies and of course, that damn Star Wars movie I had to see in 3 damn D.

But I haven't forgotten.  I honestly wish I could.  I'm still furious with you Rob. I can't believe you left such a mess for your sister to clean up.   I still call you a stupid bastard.  My new favorite team is whomever is beating Portugal.  I know much it pissed you off when Portugal lost so I figure their loss means you're as angry as I am.

However I can talk about some good moments.  I remember seeing, "Dances With Wolves" in the theater with you and you commented that my Indian name would be, "She Who Talks a lot During Movies" and I remember all of us going to that bar in New Brunswick for late night beers and I remember you laughing with that insanely huge smile.

I've seen pictures of your daughter Rob.  She's beautiful.  I wish you knew that. 

I wish I had known you feel that she and the rest of your family would have been better off dead than without you.  They aren't you know.  None of us are.

Be at peace Rob.  We all still love you.  You stupid bastard.

Living in the Twilight Zone

Anyone remember the remake of the Twilight Zone tv show?  It was done in the late 80's or early 90's, I can't remember for sure.  The was one episode about a man going about his life and he suddenly hears a word he doesn't understand.  Everyone else around him understands it but him.  It's total gibberish.  Then there are 2 words that are gibberish.  Everyone around him starts to look at him like he's a nutter.

He starts running around frantically trying to get someone to understand him and then of course it ends up that he understands nothing and they lock him away in the nuthouse.  It's a sad and depressing look into the mind of insanity.

I bet that story was written by a someone who has kids.

I shouldn't say that.  Not just kids.  I mean, yes it is the kids but it's also other people too.  At least today anyway.  Today is just one of THOSE days that every chance I've had to interact with some they've either completely ignored me, misunderstood everything I had to say or I don't know, couldn't deal with me.  The kids, well Hell, that's everyday with them.  Hardly worth mentioning.  But the adults around me Hoo Boy.  Makes me a little nervous though as I sent off 3 letters to schools teachers today with the kids.  Now that I know that I am incapable of communicating my thoughts in a rational day I'm wondering if I'm going to have to go pick up expelled children at 3:00.

Sadly, this happens a lot to me.  When I moved to Australia I could chalk it up to language and custom barrier.  We've been here almost 5 years and  I know what chuffed, nutter, struth and blimey mean now.  I don't think that's it.  If I was brimming with self confidence I think I'd say that my mind was running faster than my mouth.  If I was being the Ugly American I'd say that Aussies just need to learn how I speak.  If I'm being honest...well I dunno.

So as any reasonable person would do...and since I'm the most reasonable person I've dealt with today I will go with my suggestion, I am embracing the madness.  Go ahead, hear the words coming out of my mouth and feel free to do the opposite.  I am going to pretend you're doing it my way anyway.  When I pick up the kids today I will tell them to do the opposite of what I want in hopes that they will either be so confused they be stunned into silence (HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA, damn that was a good one) or else they will do the opposite just to spite me.

Dan Murphys, the world's greatest liquor store is open until 9.  That is my mantra.

And like the man in Twilight Zone I will just keep on going until lock my gorstrsap324 up in solitary confinement.

A dabbler in Everything but a Master of Nothing

Ok, that's a little harsh.  It's true but it's harsh.  I have a lot of varied interests.  Some may call me psychotic with a limited ability to commit whereas I like to think of myself as being diversified.

Not in any particular order this are the hobby's and interests right that are floating my boat.

1. Sewing.  Yep, I really love it.  I love to get fabric and pick out patterns and I love to sit at the machine and go.  I swear like Hell almost the entire time I'm sewing but when I'm done, I really feel good.  Feeling good isn't one of my strong points so when it happens man!  It's like suddenly losing 20 pounds, finding a fifty dollar note and your favorite shoe store has a buy 1 get 2 free pair sale.  Sooooo, not that often.  But the feeling I get when I've made something, it works for me.
2. Hair Bow.  I can make hair bows for the girls.  Not the simple single loop with a tie in the middle but good super spiffy cheerleader sorority girls in beauty pagent bows.  It's an awesome task and again I swear a lot during the process but when it's done it's a great feeling.  Sadly, these bows aren't all that popular here in Australia.  The phrase bow heads means nothing here.  I think Aussies get a little put off sometimes when you try to bring in something from your homeland.  But I will keep trying.
3. Woodworking.  I started following this blog: www.ana-white.com last year and love it.  I've built a bookcase shelf thing for my bathroom and some storage stuff.  I desperately need a new bed for Ted and I and I have the plans to build a fantastic one.  A bed with storage and a solid headboard that isn't wiggling and wobbling all over the place.  Plus I have an idea for a kitchen table that has built in storage.  When I'm out in the shed I feel like I'm accomplishing something real.  Something tangible that will be around.  Not like when I'm cooking dinner that I know everyone will hate and 60% of the table won't eat at all.
4. Computers.  Not the IT web design and coding.  That's insane tech crap to me.  Reading 100's of lines of code to see where a T should have been capitalized?  Whatever.  Glad that there are folk who can do that (my husband Ted by the way-a little too awesome, it's scary sometimes what he knows) but I'm even more grateful that I'm not one of the ones doing it.  No my computing interest is in the gadgets and seeing what will work and how it works.  I love using the computer to download music, movies and such.  All legal of course.  I love having a question about something and then diving onto the Net and traveling through time and space to find the answer.  Yes, I have a smart phone.  Yes, I'll kill anyone who gets between it and me.

Now of course these are not all interests that go together.  Well, maybe the sewing and bows but there rest are right in the middle of left field.  Also Enjoying this things is NOT simpatico with ferrying kids to school, cricket, piano and gymnastics.  It is the polar opposite of doing laundry, grocery shopping, cooking dinner, gardening, paying bills, planning events with school and friends and well...general every other aspect of my life.

Today I need to take down 3 loads of hanging laundry.  Put up another 2 at least, plan dinner, clean up the kitchen, finish cleaning out pantry, put laundry away, go to school, pick up one child - other 2 are going to friends house, drive home,feed child snack drive back out and pick up other 2, go to piano lesson, during lesson drive over to basketball place and see if there is an opening for Tessi, drive back to piano lesson, pick up Connor and drive home.  Then make dinner.  Argue at kids for not eating dinner.  I will collapse on couch and Saint Ted will get girls to bed, then Teddy will pout and go to bed and then I will either sit and chat with Ted or just go upstairs and pass out.

See why the playing on the computer is soooooooooo appealing?  Yea, I know.  I'm going, I'm going.  Maybe I can start working on the bed tomorrow.