Monday, April 15, 2013

Assumptions. . .

Hello everyone, I hope everyone is having a great day.  This blog will be about assumptions.  I hate when people assume they know things that they don't.  Why do people read into everything?  This has to do with our summers.

OK - two years ago my family moved from Northern Michigan to Florida.  We left the Traverse City area and moved to a suburb of Tampa.  Now, I don't miss the long winters of the Traverse City area but I do miss everything else about that area.  I grew up there and only left for college.  Most of my family is there, although my husband's is not.  I love how pretty it is up there.  I love the lakes, dunes, nature trails, and Michigan people are my people - even if they do piss me off sometimes.  Florida is a different world.  I am deathly allergic to fire ants so I don't like to go outside because I am afraid I am going to be killed.  We live in a suburb so we have little to no property and little to no privacy.  Winters are pleasant out side, but from April to October it is just too hot to be outside not in a pool and it is too hot to have the windows open.  The humidity is oppressive.  I wouldn't trust walking through the woods because Florida is filled with bugs/snakes that are poisonous and aggressive.  Then that brings us to the people - ever realize that all the strange stories come from Florida?  Casey Anthony?  George Zimmerman?  The 2000 election mess up?  Florida is filled with crazy people.  People who eat the faces off of other living people.  Now - I am not saying everyone down here is bat shit crazy - but there are enough of them to where I don't trust these people.  I miss Michigan - my girls miss Michigan - Florida sucks and five of the six people in this house can't stand this state.

So, we moved down here two years ago and we stayed here the first summer.  By the time school started the kids all wanted to kill each other.  Stuck in a house - not going outside because it is too hot - getting on each others nerves.  I don't know why the kids here don't get their break from December to Feb, instead of June - August - because June - August is horrible down here.  At the end of that summer I looked at my husband and said, "I won't spend another summer down here."  What this means is that every summer the kids and I go to Michigan.  We spend about six weeks up there - enjoying family and Grandma's house.  The girls and I love it up there - Gabe being the only one who doesn't want to go.  That being said - my husband can't join us.  He has to work. 

The look on people's faces when they find out the kids and I go up while Nick stays here is just annoying.  You can see it - they think we have marital problems.  Some have even said, "Oh you poor people."  What do you mean us poor people?  Why does it mean our marriage has to be in trouble if we can spend six weeks apart each year?  I know military families who are separated for longer than that.

So here it is - the kids and I go to Michigan for the summer - my husband does not.  We wish he could join us.  We are sad to leave him, but it is better for my kids to go "home" for the summer than to stay down here missing everyone and everything we love up there.  We are hoping my husband can join us for a week or two this summer, but his job may not allow that to happen.  He has to work to support us and we are thankful for all his hard work.  I personally think this makes our marriage stronger, not weaker.  We trust each other to know we will be fine apart for six weeks, and at the same time it makes us really miss each other by the end of it.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Reason #214 as to why I will never win a parent of the year award.

I love my children.  They crack me up, but I realize I am not the best parent out there - not by far.  I don't read to them every night.  When they all start talking to me at once I get overwhelmed and can't understand any of them.  Well - now I will give an example as to some of my inappropriate parenting.

I will start out by saying that Lucy can be pretty profane.  Has been that way since she could talk.  Her first word was "kitty", but not to long after that came her first two work sentence. . . "Damn it".  She loved that phrase.  When ever she would say it she would fist up her little hand and smack it on a hard surface while she said it.  Cute big blue eyes and soft curls yelling out , "Damn it!" as she pounded her fist.  Hard not to laugh.  There were many other profanities, but the image of sweet little Lucy pounding her fist and saying "Damn it" is one that I hope will stay with me long after Alzheimer's has set in. 

So a couple of weeks ago Lucy was in her play therapy, a place she goes every two weeks to learn how to deal with her emotions.  While she was there Evelyn and I looked in the little shops in that strip mall (everything down here is in a strip mall!)  In one of the stores we saw something and I immediately knew I had to buy it for my Lucy, it is something called a Dammit doll.

This doll looks like a Voodoo doll, but is made from a pretty fabric.  It has a little phrase that is on the doll and it goes like this
When ever things don't go so well,
And you want to hit the wall and yell,
Here's a little dammit doll,
That you can't do without.
Just grasp it firmly by the legs
And find a place to slam it,
And when you whack the stuffing out
So, I really debated on if I should get this doll for my six year old.  Evelyn was with me, telling me, "You have to get it for her."  I knew it wasn't appropriate for her, but I just couldn't resist.  I has a momentary thought of, "Well, maybe I will get it now and put it away until she is older."  You know, when she is older we could joke about it being her first phrase.  Of course I didn't wait though and I gave it to her when we got home.  Initially she just hugged the doll and didn't want to hurt it.  Intially.

So I fast forward to lunch today.  It was 12:30 - 30 minutes past lunch time - and she was hungry.   I was going to make mac n cheese and asked her to get the boxes out - so she pulled three boxes out.  She watched me put only two of those boxes into the water - this caused her to unload the missile silos.

"I AM REALLY HUNGRY!  YOU HAVE TO MAKE THREE BOXES!"   I tried to reason with her (haha - I should have known better) and I said, "Lucy, it will only be you, Ellie and Evie eating.  Two boxes will be pleanty."  "NO!  I AM SO HUNGRY I COULD EAT THE HOUSE!  YOU HAVE TO MAKE THREE BOXES!"  At that point I told her I was only making two boxes and she needed to stop yelling.  This sent her to the living room where she cried like a child who  had never eaten in her life for about three minutes.  Then she gets up and stomps to her bedroom where I start to hear something getting smacked on the bed frame and out comes, "DAMN IT!  DAMN IT! DAMN IT!"  She then stomped back out the kitchen, no longer crying but angry, Dammit doll in hand.  She scowls at me and starts beating the doll on the counter repeat the phrase three more times.  She turns to look at me again and stomps back to her bedroom.  Really, all I could do was try to hide the fact that I really wanted to laugh.  When I composed myself I asked her if she felt better.  She yelled, "YES!"

Man - so funny.  I know I shouldn't let her swear - and really we don't generally let her get away with it - but that was funny.  Thus - reason number 214 as to why I will never win a parent of the year award.  Honestly, I hope when the four of them get together to write the "Mommy Dearest" book that they take some of the proceeds and put me in a good nursing home!

Sunday, April 7, 2013

An idiot angered Angel . . .

Sigh.  Here comes another rant.  I probably will be profane, just warning you. . .

OK - believe it or not most of the time I ignore things most people say.  I do have the, "Wow, did they really just say that?" moment a lot, but usually I can just let it roll off and just look at the source.  Really, that is what I should be doing now instead of letting it eat me up and making me ill, but I can't.  I have to get it off my chest.  In part, I am very mad at myself because I didn't confront this person when it happened, but me being me I was just left speechless after hearing the crap spew from her face. . .

I will say I have a good son.  He is a thinker.  He thinks a lot about things.  He has a way of looking at things and seeing things that amazes me.  He may be 12, and when he is not letting his 12 year old emotions get the better of him he is a great person to talk to.  Gabe also cares a lot about people.  It bothers him immensely when he sees animals, kids, and elderly people go without or be treated poorly.  He helps to deliver meals on wheels with me and he loves it.  He is nice to the elderly people, and has made a few really good friends among the elderly people.  On top of all of this, he is probably the smartest person I have ever and ever will meet.  Gabe will be a good man someday.

I will say, I do know my son's flaws.  Gabe does not like to be around a lot of people.  He is a loner - as are my husband and I.  He would be happy if he saw his friends a few times a month, that would be ideal for him.  He is easily irritated and hurt by people.  People who are energetic annoy him.  He gets very upset hearing people fight and yell at each other.  He gets very hurt when friends do pre-teen teasing, he takes it personally.  Gabe is not charismatic.  He says things how he sees them and he won't sugar coat things, and a lot of people see this as rude.  Gabe also works very hard to not let anyone know what he is feeling.  He sees showing emotions as a weakness so he works very hard to never show those emotions.

That is pretty much my son in a nutshell.

Now, recently we had a get together in our neighborhood.  Several neighbors as well as a few other people came, there was food, there was beer, the kids had a lot of fun running around and playing.  My girls, being who they are, were in their element.  Gabe came up to me once the sun went down and said, "Yah, I have had enough.  I am going to bed."  He wasn't being rude, he was being him.

A couple of hours later I was talking to a lady who I have met several times.  She has a boy my son's age and they got into a physical altercation not long after we moved to Florida..  To make a long story short, my son was swimming in the pool with her two boys, one Gabe's age and one a few years younger.  The younger boy kept following Gabe around saying, "Punch me in the face."  Gabe said "no" several times until finally he said to the boy, "Do you really want me to punch you in the face?"  And the boy said, "Yes!  I can take it!  Punch me in the face."  So Gabe, being the literal person he is, punched this younger child in the face.  The boy that was Gabe's age then jumped on Gabe and tried to drown him - and I mean seriously drown him - make him dead.  Now, I do not condone Gabe punching this child in the face, and I had a long discussion with Gabe that he should never, ever hit anyone smaller and weaker then him even if the beg him to do it, but this child tried to kill my son.  Needless to say this woman doesn't think highly of Gabe and Gabe works very hard at to avoid everyone in that family.

Anyway, to get back my irritation, the girls were being social, like always.  I was discussing to this person how social my girls are, they love people, and then I ended it with, "And then we have Gabe."  I meant it to be a joke because Gabe does not hide the fact that a party is the last place in the world he wants to be, he is so the opposite of my girls on this that there is something comical about it.  This person saw this as an opening and at that point she just ran with it going on and on about how I just have to accept what God gave me and bide my time until he is 18 and will be out of the house.  She discussed about how hard it would be to have a child like him but God gave him to me for a reason.  In a few more years he would be gone and I could enjoy life again.

I just stared at her open mouthed as she continued to ramble on, eventually getting to how wonderful her kids are and how smart they are.  I couldn't say anything to her for a while after that.  I tried to tell myself this was the ignorant ramblings of a drunk bitch.  I tried to let it go. . . but now I am just mad.  Mad at her for presuming things about my son, who she knows little to nothing about.  Mad at myself for not spitting in this persons face and gathering my children and going into the house.

I am mad that I didn't tell her this (and again, I am sorry if this is profane but I have to say it somewhere)

Excuse me, how dare you assume that my son is this terrible person who must be endured.  You have no right say or think these things about him, because in all honestly you aren't fit to lick his boots.

That child, that child that I must "accept as he is and bide" my time has the most amazing mind of anyone you will ever meet.  He will some day cure cancer or make a rocket to visit Mars.  He will change the world in ways you have never and will never even be able to comprehend.  Just because you do not understand his ways does not mean that he is bad or wrong, he is just not you or your children.

That child cares more about people than you can ever comprehend.  That child will put his last dollar into the Salvation army bucket without even thinking, he will try to do it so no one notices it for he doesn't do it for the attention, he does it because it is right.  That child begs and pleads with me to bring home every stray cat I see on the streets.  That child turns away from homeless and hungry people sad and upset over their situation and angry because there is nothing he can do about it. 

On top of that, Gable has over come more in his 12 years of life than many people overcome in 50 years.  From being born dead, overcoming autism, and being ridiculed for not being like everyone else - Gabe already has the story that people write books about.  

How dare you?!  How dare you think these things about another person's child.  How dare you have the audacity to say this things to anyone, much less his mother?  What the hell is wrong with you?