I was at work the other day and an client issue came up. The client happens to be from a very specific ethnic background. In my very extensive experiences with people from this ethnic background I have found that when there is a complaint or issue it needs to be dealt with a certain way or else very bad word of mouth ensues. So I went to my boss and began the conversation like this:
Me: I have to begin this conversation my saying that I am racist.
B (boss) You're what?! You're racist?!
Me: Yes. I'm being honest. I'm racist. And this has been my experience with people of XYZ background...
The shock was amazing. I mean, have you ever heard anyone say that they are racist? No. Most people say: I'm not racist, BUT... Come on now. We're all racist. Or sexist, or ageist, or size-ist, or lots-of-things-ist. Let's be honest about it. Stereotypes are around for a reason, they stem from somewhere. Now I'm not saying that there aren't people who are more open minded than others. And some who are more close minded. I'm just saying that different people react to things and deal with things in different ways. A lot of how we do things come from how we are raised and what we learn. And those of us who have been raised in small ethnic communities often see things in a similar way.
I was giving my cousin's girlfriend a ride to the big city of Winnipeg the other day. She was born and raised in a small town. And does it ever show. I'm sure she's a very nice girl, she just happens to buy into lots and lots of very negative stereotypes. She's also very young, has been sheltered, and has not yet had the opportunity to learn about the world, the amazing range of people in it, and see the beauty in our differences instead of feeling the fear of them.
I have been persecuted for being many different things. For being fat, a woman, smart, short, dark, and Jewish come to mind. And frequently once people get to know me they lose the stereotyping and think of me as a person who happens to also be XY or Z.
I once worked selling encyclopedia in Australia. The company I worked for had people all over the country working. There was a newsletter 'The Bulletin' that went out every week and it had the top sales people on it. I happened to be very good at selling encyclopedia and was on the Bulletin every week. A few months into it I went to a training weekend where all the top people in the company were. Because I was generally the top top sales person every week people knew my name. And every single person, after meeting me face to face, said: I thought you'd be taller. Seriously, Every Single Person said that. And it's probably because in our society we equate height with success. There are studies that show that. Where did that stereotype come from? Who knows, but it exists.
I worked as an assistant manager at a resort in Vanuatu. I lasted less than a week. I have olive skin. I tan very easily and when I'm sick and get pale I have a strong greenish tinge. When I got to Vanuatu I was Canadian Winter White (not white but not Dark). After having spent a few days in the sun over there, I got very dark. One of the resort owners pulled me aside one day and said: You need to stay out of the sun. I asked why. He said that my skin was getting too dark and that if I got much darker they would have to pull me out of management. I asked why. He said: Blacks can't be in management, they're not smart enough. To which I incredulously asked: You mean you actually believe that as my skin gets darker my intelligence level drops? And he said: Yes. And he meant it. Really?! So I quit. There were lots of other reasons for my leaving but really - how could I possibly get past that?! And then I was stuck on the island for another few days because Air Vanuatu had one air plane and it was damaged in a hail storm in Sydney. I did love the island though. I went kayaking every morning and watched the sun rise over the water. I went snorkeling and saw the most amazing ocean life, I climbed a waterfall, I saw amazing things at the markets. It was a phenomenal experience but unfortunately was cut short because of my intolerance for the extreme ignorance I was subjected to.
It has been recently brought to my attention by a blog reader that I generally use this medium to rant. I have to admit I really enjoy that I can. But the things going on right now that I want to rant about all have to do with the legalities of my pending divorce and should really not be put into writing. So I will have to hold off. But rest assured, the rants will begin again. And soon.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Inconvenienced?!
Tuesday morning I dropped my daughter off at school and, instead of taking Z to daycare I kept him with me. It is part of my new routine of making sure spend one on one time with him. We went grocery shopping and I have been putting it off for a while so it was a pretty big shop. I came home with a trunk full of groceries and Z who has been sick with a cold. Normally when a kid has a cold it's not a big deal, but when Z gets a cold he sometimes ends up in the hospital with breathing issues (although that hasn't happened for quite a while so maybe the fact that he's no longer dealing with the stress of being abused his body can fight the virus harder). I haven't been sleeping great and have been dealing with a huge moral dilemma and have my period so I'm not at my nicest or most patient right now.
Anyway, when I got home there was someone parked in my spot. It is clearly marked that it is private parking but apparently someone figured it didn't apply to them. I called my super but he wasn't there so I asked my neighbor, AB, if I could park behind her for a while because she is in the spot next to mine. I parked behind her car and the idiot who took my spot's car (heretofore ((I speak legalese now!)) referred to as The Idiot) . I can see my spot from my place and I glanced out the window every so often to see if anyone came. After almost two hours I saw The Idiot (TI) go to her car and look all confused. I went to my balcony and it went something like this:
Me: You parked in my spot
TI: It was only for half an hour
Me: It was for way longer than that but that's not the point. The point is that I pay $50 a month for that parking spot. I'm a single working mother with two little kids and I need that spot so when I get home with groceries and little kids I have somewhere to park that's close.
TI: Sorry (really snotty)
Me: Sorry's not good enough.
TI: What do you want me to say, that I won't do it again?
Me: I want you to have not done it at all. You inconvenienced me and I'm angry about it.
TI: Sorry if you were inconvenienced (again, really snotty).
I gave her and her friend a dirty look and came back inside my apartment and locked the balcony door behind me. And I waited almost half an hour before I went to move my car so she could get out. And when I did go out she was all - what the f--k is your problem? And I said in a sickeningly sweet voice with a smile on my face: Oh, I'm sorry, did I inconvenience you? And then I very slowly moved my car out of the way.
Now, normally I am the type of person who says: Oh, it's all right, just please don't do it again and smiles and walks away. But I'm tired of being nice. I want to say it like it is and f--k anyone who has a problem with that. I'm not sure if this change of behaviour means that I need more anti-depressants or if it means that it's good I'm finally letting out the anger. I'll ask my therapist...
I do know that I have so much inside me right now. Blogging is a great way to get it out and I need to make it a priority again but work keeps getting in my way. If I'm not working I feel like I should be and I have to maintain the apartment and have clean clothes and healthy food and all that jazz too. Oh - and raise two kids and take care of myself. I need a massage so badly and I just don't know when I'm going to have a chance. I made my work schedule so that I can take Fridays off but something keeps coming up. Today I had no childcare for A so I had her with me and that is not conducive to working. So tomorrow I have to work.
I also know that if I start to exercise I'll feel so much better and have more energy. I just don't seem to have the energy to start. I'm giving myself until after my stupid period and then I will start doing something. I like aerobics and I have some good dvds so I will start doing those. And it's something the kids can do with me. They think aerobics are awesome. I'd like to keep them thinking that way...
In terms of the moral dilemma, I know right from wrong. In most cases it is pretty clear cut. But what if I'm tired of doing the right thing and I just want to be selfish for a while? I think that if you asked most people who know me at all to make a list of words to describe me, selfish would not be on any of the lists. But I think it's time for me to be selfish a little and to do what I want and what feels right for me. I'm so tired of doing what's right by everyone else. Don't I deserve a little of my own?
Now - who's coming over to give me a massage and a pedicure. Because selfishly, those are the two things I could really use right now. (Although to be honest, I'll settle for the massage).
Anyway, when I got home there was someone parked in my spot. It is clearly marked that it is private parking but apparently someone figured it didn't apply to them. I called my super but he wasn't there so I asked my neighbor, AB, if I could park behind her for a while because she is in the spot next to mine. I parked behind her car and the idiot who took my spot's car (heretofore ((I speak legalese now!)) referred to as The Idiot) . I can see my spot from my place and I glanced out the window every so often to see if anyone came. After almost two hours I saw The Idiot (TI) go to her car and look all confused. I went to my balcony and it went something like this:
Me: You parked in my spot
TI: It was only for half an hour
Me: It was for way longer than that but that's not the point. The point is that I pay $50 a month for that parking spot. I'm a single working mother with two little kids and I need that spot so when I get home with groceries and little kids I have somewhere to park that's close.
TI: Sorry (really snotty)
Me: Sorry's not good enough.
TI: What do you want me to say, that I won't do it again?
Me: I want you to have not done it at all. You inconvenienced me and I'm angry about it.
TI: Sorry if you were inconvenienced (again, really snotty).
I gave her and her friend a dirty look and came back inside my apartment and locked the balcony door behind me. And I waited almost half an hour before I went to move my car so she could get out. And when I did go out she was all - what the f--k is your problem? And I said in a sickeningly sweet voice with a smile on my face: Oh, I'm sorry, did I inconvenience you? And then I very slowly moved my car out of the way.
Now, normally I am the type of person who says: Oh, it's all right, just please don't do it again and smiles and walks away. But I'm tired of being nice. I want to say it like it is and f--k anyone who has a problem with that. I'm not sure if this change of behaviour means that I need more anti-depressants or if it means that it's good I'm finally letting out the anger. I'll ask my therapist...
I do know that I have so much inside me right now. Blogging is a great way to get it out and I need to make it a priority again but work keeps getting in my way. If I'm not working I feel like I should be and I have to maintain the apartment and have clean clothes and healthy food and all that jazz too. Oh - and raise two kids and take care of myself. I need a massage so badly and I just don't know when I'm going to have a chance. I made my work schedule so that I can take Fridays off but something keeps coming up. Today I had no childcare for A so I had her with me and that is not conducive to working. So tomorrow I have to work.
I also know that if I start to exercise I'll feel so much better and have more energy. I just don't seem to have the energy to start. I'm giving myself until after my stupid period and then I will start doing something. I like aerobics and I have some good dvds so I will start doing those. And it's something the kids can do with me. They think aerobics are awesome. I'd like to keep them thinking that way...
In terms of the moral dilemma, I know right from wrong. In most cases it is pretty clear cut. But what if I'm tired of doing the right thing and I just want to be selfish for a while? I think that if you asked most people who know me at all to make a list of words to describe me, selfish would not be on any of the lists. But I think it's time for me to be selfish a little and to do what I want and what feels right for me. I'm so tired of doing what's right by everyone else. Don't I deserve a little of my own?
Now - who's coming over to give me a massage and a pedicure. Because selfishly, those are the two things I could really use right now. (Although to be honest, I'll settle for the massage).
Monday, October 18, 2010
Bonus Time
I did take some time to spend with Z after that crazy tantrum. I didn't go into work the next day although I really felt like I should, because I knew that I should also spend alone time with Z. Should should should. I once had a therapist who said: Stop 'shoulding' all over yourself. Anyway, I took the day off and I thought that Z and I would take A to school, then hang out and do something fun for a while and then he would nap and I would work from home.
We got home at about 10:30 and he was super tired because he hadn't slept that well the night before. He screamed and screamed and screamed some more at least until noon about going to sleep. But hysterical screaming, his eyes didn't even focus after a while because he was so deep into his tantrum. He finally napped for about 45 minutes (which I spent curled in a ball in the corner after having listened to him scream for so long) and then was up. Thankfully I had child care and I dropped him off. I didn't work that afternoon but I was feeling so guilty about it that I did work that night and for a few hours on Saturday. It's interesting this single parent who has a job thing. No matter where I am I feel like I should be in the other place. I mean, I could have gone to work instead and at least have been paid for getting screamed at all day! (They don't scream there, it's actually quite civilized for an office).
That's actually not true. There are times when I know that I should be at work or I know that I haven't clocked the hours I said I would work, or there is a project that I want to get done. But for some reason I'm not there, I have an appointment, a sick kid, a guilty conscience about not being a good enough mom, something. Maybe it's that I have never had to juggle a job with another big priority before so I could dedicate myself to my job without having to balance. Thankfully work is pretty understanding about it which is good because if they weren't and I had to choose, I would obviously choose my kids which would make me feel like I was making a huge sacrifice because I like my job a lot. So I will put in the hours I can from home and go into the office as much as I can and hopefully make my weekly hourly quota (if that makes any sense).
I was at my neighbor's place (AB) for dinner tonight and we were talking. We smoked a bit and I seemed to be talking more than I generally do. I was saying that I'm realizing how strongly I believe in renegotiating contracts/lifestyles/work/parenting methods and such. It's mostly because I am truly understanding that things only go in small spurts. I know I've written about this before, about how I need to start doing things for short term gain and deal with the long term pain later because most of the time it's only the short times that exist for me. Does that make any sense? So regular renegotiation will keep the short term on the right track. If I'm not mistaken, that might actually lead to long term fulfillment...
So here I am at a point in my life that I had planned to be completely different from how it is. I had planned to be a stay at home mom until both kids were at school full time which is in about another three years. And I would be a wife and mom and... and... ? I really didn't think about life outside of those two things. I forgot about being Tamar and where I want to go and what I want to see and do and feel and think and be. So now I've been forced into looking at my life and making those decisions. I'm doing my best not to just get scared and hide from everything behind my kids depression and food. In the past I've done just that (but not the kids part). Basically what I am trying to say is that I find myself in a lovely and unique position.
As long as I take my kids into account, I can make decisions based simply on what I want without having to consult another adult. I lost that ability when I got married and I sure missed it. I realize that I really prefer being single. I like to date and a casual relationship will probably work in the future when my kids are older, but I can't see myself getting married again. I saw a coaster that said: Any woman looking for a husband has never had one. And that's how I feel.
So here I still am with this unplanned time ahead of me. And I'm deciding what to do with it. I have made some decisions:
1. I am going to register each kid for one extra-curricular that does not involve the other. I think A would like to take a dance class and maybe Z would enjoy gymnastics or something like that.
2. I am not going to work on Tuesday mornings even though it means I will have to work some evenings and I will take Z swimming without A.
3. I am not going to work on Wednesday afternoons and will take A swimming without Z.
4. I am going to start doing aerobics in the mornings to feel better. I know that I was the most energetic and productive I've ever been when I was working out in the mornings. I will update my progress on my blog.
5. I am going to actively date and let myself be me and have fun again.
6. I am going to take the time to get to know my kids as individuals and not just how I see them. I want to know how they see themselves and help them be proud of who they are inside and to thrive as those people.
7. I am going to save as much money as I can without being too stingy with us right now so we can do some traveling as a family and I can do some on my own.
When I was a kid and my mom asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I always said: happy. And then at some point the answer changed to: I just want to hang out and be cool and be myself. I don't know how many jobs there are like that but I'd totally do it if it ever came up (or I could find a way of making it happen). I can be quite entertaining. Also sometimes very annoying. I remember my aunt once telling me I was driving her crazy and I said she was lucky because at least she could leave, I had to be with myself all the time! I don't remember her being very sympathetic about that though...
In order to even be able to just hang out and be cool and be myself I still have a lot of finding out about who I am to do. And that is the journey we are on as we sally forth together.
We got home at about 10:30 and he was super tired because he hadn't slept that well the night before. He screamed and screamed and screamed some more at least until noon about going to sleep. But hysterical screaming, his eyes didn't even focus after a while because he was so deep into his tantrum. He finally napped for about 45 minutes (which I spent curled in a ball in the corner after having listened to him scream for so long) and then was up. Thankfully I had child care and I dropped him off. I didn't work that afternoon but I was feeling so guilty about it that I did work that night and for a few hours on Saturday. It's interesting this single parent who has a job thing. No matter where I am I feel like I should be in the other place. I mean, I could have gone to work instead and at least have been paid for getting screamed at all day! (They don't scream there, it's actually quite civilized for an office).
That's actually not true. There are times when I know that I should be at work or I know that I haven't clocked the hours I said I would work, or there is a project that I want to get done. But for some reason I'm not there, I have an appointment, a sick kid, a guilty conscience about not being a good enough mom, something. Maybe it's that I have never had to juggle a job with another big priority before so I could dedicate myself to my job without having to balance. Thankfully work is pretty understanding about it which is good because if they weren't and I had to choose, I would obviously choose my kids which would make me feel like I was making a huge sacrifice because I like my job a lot. So I will put in the hours I can from home and go into the office as much as I can and hopefully make my weekly hourly quota (if that makes any sense).
I was at my neighbor's place (AB) for dinner tonight and we were talking. We smoked a bit and I seemed to be talking more than I generally do. I was saying that I'm realizing how strongly I believe in renegotiating contracts/lifestyles/work/parenting methods and such. It's mostly because I am truly understanding that things only go in small spurts. I know I've written about this before, about how I need to start doing things for short term gain and deal with the long term pain later because most of the time it's only the short times that exist for me. Does that make any sense? So regular renegotiation will keep the short term on the right track. If I'm not mistaken, that might actually lead to long term fulfillment...
So here I am at a point in my life that I had planned to be completely different from how it is. I had planned to be a stay at home mom until both kids were at school full time which is in about another three years. And I would be a wife and mom and... and... ? I really didn't think about life outside of those two things. I forgot about being Tamar and where I want to go and what I want to see and do and feel and think and be. So now I've been forced into looking at my life and making those decisions. I'm doing my best not to just get scared and hide from everything behind my kids depression and food. In the past I've done just that (but not the kids part). Basically what I am trying to say is that I find myself in a lovely and unique position.
As long as I take my kids into account, I can make decisions based simply on what I want without having to consult another adult. I lost that ability when I got married and I sure missed it. I realize that I really prefer being single. I like to date and a casual relationship will probably work in the future when my kids are older, but I can't see myself getting married again. I saw a coaster that said: Any woman looking for a husband has never had one. And that's how I feel.
So here I still am with this unplanned time ahead of me. And I'm deciding what to do with it. I have made some decisions:
1. I am going to register each kid for one extra-curricular that does not involve the other. I think A would like to take a dance class and maybe Z would enjoy gymnastics or something like that.
2. I am not going to work on Tuesday mornings even though it means I will have to work some evenings and I will take Z swimming without A.
3. I am not going to work on Wednesday afternoons and will take A swimming without Z.
4. I am going to start doing aerobics in the mornings to feel better. I know that I was the most energetic and productive I've ever been when I was working out in the mornings. I will update my progress on my blog.
5. I am going to actively date and let myself be me and have fun again.
6. I am going to take the time to get to know my kids as individuals and not just how I see them. I want to know how they see themselves and help them be proud of who they are inside and to thrive as those people.
7. I am going to save as much money as I can without being too stingy with us right now so we can do some traveling as a family and I can do some on my own.
When I was a kid and my mom asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I always said: happy. And then at some point the answer changed to: I just want to hang out and be cool and be myself. I don't know how many jobs there are like that but I'd totally do it if it ever came up (or I could find a way of making it happen). I can be quite entertaining. Also sometimes very annoying. I remember my aunt once telling me I was driving her crazy and I said she was lucky because at least she could leave, I had to be with myself all the time! I don't remember her being very sympathetic about that though...
In order to even be able to just hang out and be cool and be myself I still have a lot of finding out about who I am to do. And that is the journey we are on as we sally forth together.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Tantrums from Hell
At this very moment Z is having the biggest most intense tantrum I have ever heard or seen. And that's saying a lot because A is pretty good at them herself. He is screaming and crying and kicking and coughing and choking and snotting and crying some more and freaking out. He has been having a really hard time lately. I think there are a few reasons for it. One is that we have had very little time together, it feels like we are always rushing around and there is always something I need to be doing. What I need to be doing is making him my priority. I make sure I get time alone with A but I haven't been doing that with Z. As of tomorrow I will again.
We live in an apartment and thankfully only have neighbors on one side of us. If I heard a kid screaming like this and didn't know why, I would be worried. In fact, I know why he's having the tantrum and I'm still worried. The only thing that makes me know that it will stop is that eventually he will have to fall asleep from exhaustion. He is that gorgeous combo of over-tired, over-chocolated (we were at my mom's who gave the kids chocolate milk and chocolate ice cream), and angry because I put the railing back up on his bed. He also has a dirty diaper that can't feel good but I have to wait for him to fall asleep before I can change it or he'll get poop all over the place and that's one of the last things I want to deal with right now.
When we moved into the apartment from the house I sold his crib and put him in a bed. It's a bunk bed but they are not stacked. I have had the guard rail up on his bed so he didn't fall out. He decided that he didn't want it anymore but I had to put it back on because he kept getting out of bed instead of going to sleep. So now he's trapped in his bed screaming his head off. And since the kids share a room and A needs to go to sleep, I sent her to sleep in my bed. I'll move her later if he ever stops screaming. Just for the record, I have been going in and checking on him every few minutes...
It is now 50 minutes later. It took me this long to get him calmed down and able to go to sleep. When I went into his room this last time he actually let me pick him up and hold him so at least I felt like I was comforting him somewhat even though he was still crying. He wanted a tissue so I gave him one to hold and he was holding it up in front of him completely open. Every time he would start to fall asleep it would fall and he would get all upset and start crying inconsolably again. Obviously to you and me that's a no-win situation but I couldn't explain it to him. It happened four or five times before he got mad at the tissue and threw it on the floor. I still haven't changed his diaper but I will when I know he's really asleep because I am not doing that all over again.
There are a few reasons I know of that Z has been having such a tough time lately:
1. He hasn't been feeling well
2. He's super tired and that makes it hard for him to sleep
3. He misses me. We haven't had any alone time together and I have been trying so hard to get my 20 hours a week of work in that I got my priorities mixed up
4. I think he's bored at daycare. He goes to a home daycare where there are only a few kids and I think he needs more than that. He needs to move into somewhere bigger but he also needs less time at daycare and more time with me. For now I will leave him where he is and make specific times to have just me and Z time.
I just read back and see that I wrote about getting my priorities straightened out earlier in this entry. Obviously it's on my mind. I have to find a way to spend time with both and each of my kids, with myself, and at work all while keeping a clean house, having fresh clothes to wear and cooking healthy meals... It was so easy to write that down but how am I going to do it? Any readers out there? I'll take suggestions!
When I started seeing my therapist she asked me if there was anything in my life that validated me. I told her that I had two kids. She told me that kids are way more invalidating than validating because we always feel like we're always doing something wrong. And I agree with her. But one thing I know for sure: spending more time with my kids when it's not time to eat, clean up, have a bath, etc. but time just for us to be doing stuff together is a win-win situation. And if I only get in 16 or 18 hours a week in at work until I figure out a good balance, so be it.
Now a story that defines my kids:
Last night the kids were so awful that I actually went to my room, curled up on my bed and cried and cried. The sobbing kind of crying. A came over and told me she wanted to watch a movie. I told her I was crying. She said: I want to watch the Lion King NOW! I said: No. She said: FINE in this awful angry voice that I'm sure she hears from me when I've had it. And she stormed out of my room. Then Z came up to me and said: Mama crying? I said: Yes, honey, Mama crying. And he handed me a tissue.
But tonight A was all love and hugs while Z was a complete nutbar. At least they aren't both jerks at the same time. I'm not sure how well I'd be able to handle that.
And to top it all off, I have a yeast infection. And that, as they say, is the icing on the cake. (Yuck!)
We live in an apartment and thankfully only have neighbors on one side of us. If I heard a kid screaming like this and didn't know why, I would be worried. In fact, I know why he's having the tantrum and I'm still worried. The only thing that makes me know that it will stop is that eventually he will have to fall asleep from exhaustion. He is that gorgeous combo of over-tired, over-chocolated (we were at my mom's who gave the kids chocolate milk and chocolate ice cream), and angry because I put the railing back up on his bed. He also has a dirty diaper that can't feel good but I have to wait for him to fall asleep before I can change it or he'll get poop all over the place and that's one of the last things I want to deal with right now.
When we moved into the apartment from the house I sold his crib and put him in a bed. It's a bunk bed but they are not stacked. I have had the guard rail up on his bed so he didn't fall out. He decided that he didn't want it anymore but I had to put it back on because he kept getting out of bed instead of going to sleep. So now he's trapped in his bed screaming his head off. And since the kids share a room and A needs to go to sleep, I sent her to sleep in my bed. I'll move her later if he ever stops screaming. Just for the record, I have been going in and checking on him every few minutes...
It is now 50 minutes later. It took me this long to get him calmed down and able to go to sleep. When I went into his room this last time he actually let me pick him up and hold him so at least I felt like I was comforting him somewhat even though he was still crying. He wanted a tissue so I gave him one to hold and he was holding it up in front of him completely open. Every time he would start to fall asleep it would fall and he would get all upset and start crying inconsolably again. Obviously to you and me that's a no-win situation but I couldn't explain it to him. It happened four or five times before he got mad at the tissue and threw it on the floor. I still haven't changed his diaper but I will when I know he's really asleep because I am not doing that all over again.
There are a few reasons I know of that Z has been having such a tough time lately:
1. He hasn't been feeling well
2. He's super tired and that makes it hard for him to sleep
3. He misses me. We haven't had any alone time together and I have been trying so hard to get my 20 hours a week of work in that I got my priorities mixed up
4. I think he's bored at daycare. He goes to a home daycare where there are only a few kids and I think he needs more than that. He needs to move into somewhere bigger but he also needs less time at daycare and more time with me. For now I will leave him where he is and make specific times to have just me and Z time.
I just read back and see that I wrote about getting my priorities straightened out earlier in this entry. Obviously it's on my mind. I have to find a way to spend time with both and each of my kids, with myself, and at work all while keeping a clean house, having fresh clothes to wear and cooking healthy meals... It was so easy to write that down but how am I going to do it? Any readers out there? I'll take suggestions!
When I started seeing my therapist she asked me if there was anything in my life that validated me. I told her that I had two kids. She told me that kids are way more invalidating than validating because we always feel like we're always doing something wrong. And I agree with her. But one thing I know for sure: spending more time with my kids when it's not time to eat, clean up, have a bath, etc. but time just for us to be doing stuff together is a win-win situation. And if I only get in 16 or 18 hours a week in at work until I figure out a good balance, so be it.
Now a story that defines my kids:
Last night the kids were so awful that I actually went to my room, curled up on my bed and cried and cried. The sobbing kind of crying. A came over and told me she wanted to watch a movie. I told her I was crying. She said: I want to watch the Lion King NOW! I said: No. She said: FINE in this awful angry voice that I'm sure she hears from me when I've had it. And she stormed out of my room. Then Z came up to me and said: Mama crying? I said: Yes, honey, Mama crying. And he handed me a tissue.
But tonight A was all love and hugs while Z was a complete nutbar. At least they aren't both jerks at the same time. I'm not sure how well I'd be able to handle that.
And to top it all off, I have a yeast infection. And that, as they say, is the icing on the cake. (Yuck!)
Sunday, October 10, 2010
I took a 25 minute nap...
And this is what happened:
A was doing pipe cleaner art while watching tv and Z was asleep so I told A that if she was all right with it I was going to lie down for a bit. We had a birthday party to attend at 2 and I just needed a quick pick-me-up nap. When I got up I heard Z talking so I went to check on him. He had coloured all over (and I mean ALL OVER) the wall next to his bed with a brown crayon. It's spectacular. It may have put me off naps. And then I came into the living room.
A had taken a pair of scissors (kid scissors, of course) and cut the fuzzies off all the pipe cleaners. And then she cut the metal parts into tiny little pieces. All over my new couch. (Yes, I got a couch and I love it. The kids are allowed to sit on it but not eat on it or jump on it. And they know it.) I had put a thin blanket folded in half on the seat of the couch so that it might protect it a little bit. And protect it, it did. Because A had cut through it with her scissors and made holes in it. But not right through into the couch cushion covers. Which is good. I may have had to sell her to the gypsies.
The couch is the first nice piece of furniture that I have ever bought myself. I know that buying something nice while I have small children and expecting it to stay nice is just dumb but as I wrote in a past entry, I'm tired of doing things for long term and giving up short term pleasure when the majority of my life ends up being short term (even when it's 'supposed' to be long term).
My neighbor who lives upstairs, we'll call her AB, is the single mom of a four year old boy. The kids usually get along pretty well and our parenting style is very similar which makes it easy to hang out. This morning AB was pretty irritated because she slept in a bit and her son was mad that she was sleeping and stepped on her head in bed. I would be pretty irritated too. I used to get pissed when I had a cat and she stepped on my head and she weighed way less than a four year old boy. When AB told her mom what happened her mom told her to be thankful that was all he did. I mean, he could have completely destroyed the apartment. And she said that made her think of me and the awful paper/glue/popsiclestick/puzzle piece mess that I had at my place a couple of weeks ago and she felt better. I texted her about the pipe cleaner and crayon mess. I hope she can see the humour in it and also be happy that her son doesn't do that kind of thing.
My kids are watching The Lion King one and a half again. For the zillionth time since I bought it a few weeks ago because I needed some quiet time and am scared to lie down unless they are both completely asleep. I'm sure you can understand why. So I am taking advantage of that time to do this writing and then I am going to make dinner. Fancy dinner. Chicken fingers and frozen peas (that they eat frozen). And then they are going to sleep at Baba's and I am going to watch an R rated movie with lots of violence and swearing and sex (the kind of thing I can't watch when they are here) and have a nice night in. And maybe, just maybe, by tomorrow I'll have it in me to deal with the crayon-wall without curling up into the fetal-position in a corner.
A was doing pipe cleaner art while watching tv and Z was asleep so I told A that if she was all right with it I was going to lie down for a bit. We had a birthday party to attend at 2 and I just needed a quick pick-me-up nap. When I got up I heard Z talking so I went to check on him. He had coloured all over (and I mean ALL OVER) the wall next to his bed with a brown crayon. It's spectacular. It may have put me off naps. And then I came into the living room.
A had taken a pair of scissors (kid scissors, of course) and cut the fuzzies off all the pipe cleaners. And then she cut the metal parts into tiny little pieces. All over my new couch. (Yes, I got a couch and I love it. The kids are allowed to sit on it but not eat on it or jump on it. And they know it.) I had put a thin blanket folded in half on the seat of the couch so that it might protect it a little bit. And protect it, it did. Because A had cut through it with her scissors and made holes in it. But not right through into the couch cushion covers. Which is good. I may have had to sell her to the gypsies.
The couch is the first nice piece of furniture that I have ever bought myself. I know that buying something nice while I have small children and expecting it to stay nice is just dumb but as I wrote in a past entry, I'm tired of doing things for long term and giving up short term pleasure when the majority of my life ends up being short term (even when it's 'supposed' to be long term).
My neighbor who lives upstairs, we'll call her AB, is the single mom of a four year old boy. The kids usually get along pretty well and our parenting style is very similar which makes it easy to hang out. This morning AB was pretty irritated because she slept in a bit and her son was mad that she was sleeping and stepped on her head in bed. I would be pretty irritated too. I used to get pissed when I had a cat and she stepped on my head and she weighed way less than a four year old boy. When AB told her mom what happened her mom told her to be thankful that was all he did. I mean, he could have completely destroyed the apartment. And she said that made her think of me and the awful paper/glue/popsiclestick/puzzle piece mess that I had at my place a couple of weeks ago and she felt better. I texted her about the pipe cleaner and crayon mess. I hope she can see the humour in it and also be happy that her son doesn't do that kind of thing.
My kids are watching The Lion King one and a half again. For the zillionth time since I bought it a few weeks ago because I needed some quiet time and am scared to lie down unless they are both completely asleep. I'm sure you can understand why. So I am taking advantage of that time to do this writing and then I am going to make dinner. Fancy dinner. Chicken fingers and frozen peas (that they eat frozen). And then they are going to sleep at Baba's and I am going to watch an R rated movie with lots of violence and swearing and sex (the kind of thing I can't watch when they are here) and have a nice night in. And maybe, just maybe, by tomorrow I'll have it in me to deal with the crayon-wall without curling up into the fetal-position in a corner.
The Surprise Fairy
My kids have a Surprise Fairy. She comes at night and leaves surprises under their pillows if they have been good that day and go to bed nicely. I made her up "found out about her" about 2 months ago and she is the best threat ever! Because really, most threats I make to my kids are empty. 'Stop hitting your brother/sister or I'll... I'll... I'll what? Hit you? No, not acceptable. Especially when CFS is already on my ass. I won't let you go to Baba's house. Who is that really punishing? Me. Not them. You can't watch tv. Same thing - punishing me, not them.
BUT - if I can say that the surprise fairy won't come... that is the best threat and is so easily followed through. The surprise fairy leaves things like a marshmallow, three smarties, a coloured pencil, a hair elastic, a penny, a little thing of bubbles, a keychain... under the kids' pillows (any food products are put in little baggies). They don't care what they get, they just care that something is there. And it's easy for me to do. Bedtime has never been easier. But it's not just about bedtime. It's about the whole day. If they have been really hard on me during the day I will tell them to ease off or the surprise fairy (heretoforthwith SF <that's my legalese coming through!>) won't come. On those days SF leaves a note. The one they got this morning says:
Dear A and Z,
I am sorry but I could not bring you any surprises. You yelled at your mommy for no reason and you were mean to her. You also hurt her feelings. You have to be nice kids if you want me to come back. It is signed The Surprise Fairy.
They hate when there's a note under the pillow instead of a surprise. In fact, today A didn't even want me to read the note to her. She knows it's going to tell her to be nice to me and she just doesn't want to hear it.
I'll tell you though - since SF has been on the scene, bedtime and daytime issues have been so much more easily resolved. Just a note to parents: the surprise fairy ROCKS!
The mean girls issue at school seems to be resolved. Those yucky girls told A that she could be 'in their group' again. So she's happy. But it sure bothered me because what about when they change their mind again? And what about the next little girl they boot out of 'their group'? Girls suck. There's no way around it. But speaking of the kids, there are some funny things I've been wanting to post.
A speaks very well and she always has. When she was just over two she dissed me for the first time. It went like this: We were eating pizza for dinner and she asked me if she could have a piece off my plate. I said sure and gave her one. She took one tiny bite and didn't eat the rest of it. The conversation then went like this:
Me: Are you going to eat that?
A: No.
Can I have it back please?
No.
When it was mine I shared it with you (stress on the word share because I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to teach her)
So go find another piece and you can share it with yourself.
Seriously?! She was just over two. So I did the only thing I knew how to do: I laughed. Because really, it was funny.
When she wasn't quite three she out-logic'ed me.
A: Can I have some chocolate?
Me: No, not right now.
But when I eat chocolate it makes me happy. And you tell me that when I'm happy you're happy. So if you give me chocolate then you'll be happy.
So I gave her chocolate. How could I have possibly not given it to her. Her reasoning was sound and logical.
Because she is so articulate and is a perfectionist, she never had many baby-words or malapropisms. These are the ones she has now:
Lost and Fountain = lost and found
Zucchini = bikini
That song that the frog made famous: hello my baby, hello my darlin', hello my ragtime gal becomes gagging gal. Which I think is hilarious.
Z doesn't speak clearly enough to say funny things yet, but he simply is funny. And the more tired he gets the funnier and sillier he gets. Last weekend the kids slept at their Baba's and A told Baba that when Z gets tired he gets sillier and sillier. And Baba asked what happens when A gets tired? A replied: I just get miserable. To which Baba, trying very hard to keep a straight face, said: That's honest.
But the two kids have always been like this. A's first word was No. Z's was Tickle Tickle. Unfortunately, now that he's two I get a lot more No from him than anything else, but as I've learned through the good and the bad, it's just a phase and this too shall pass.
BUT - if I can say that the surprise fairy won't come... that is the best threat and is so easily followed through. The surprise fairy leaves things like a marshmallow, three smarties, a coloured pencil, a hair elastic, a penny, a little thing of bubbles, a keychain... under the kids' pillows (any food products are put in little baggies). They don't care what they get, they just care that something is there. And it's easy for me to do. Bedtime has never been easier. But it's not just about bedtime. It's about the whole day. If they have been really hard on me during the day I will tell them to ease off or the surprise fairy (heretoforthwith SF <that's my legalese coming through!>) won't come. On those days SF leaves a note. The one they got this morning says:
Dear A and Z,
I am sorry but I could not bring you any surprises. You yelled at your mommy for no reason and you were mean to her. You also hurt her feelings. You have to be nice kids if you want me to come back. It is signed The Surprise Fairy.
They hate when there's a note under the pillow instead of a surprise. In fact, today A didn't even want me to read the note to her. She knows it's going to tell her to be nice to me and she just doesn't want to hear it.
I'll tell you though - since SF has been on the scene, bedtime and daytime issues have been so much more easily resolved. Just a note to parents: the surprise fairy ROCKS!
The mean girls issue at school seems to be resolved. Those yucky girls told A that she could be 'in their group' again. So she's happy. But it sure bothered me because what about when they change their mind again? And what about the next little girl they boot out of 'their group'? Girls suck. There's no way around it. But speaking of the kids, there are some funny things I've been wanting to post.
A speaks very well and she always has. When she was just over two she dissed me for the first time. It went like this: We were eating pizza for dinner and she asked me if she could have a piece off my plate. I said sure and gave her one. She took one tiny bite and didn't eat the rest of it. The conversation then went like this:
Me: Are you going to eat that?
A: No.
Can I have it back please?
No.
When it was mine I shared it with you (stress on the word share because I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to teach her)
So go find another piece and you can share it with yourself.
Seriously?! She was just over two. So I did the only thing I knew how to do: I laughed. Because really, it was funny.
When she wasn't quite three she out-logic'ed me.
A: Can I have some chocolate?
Me: No, not right now.
But when I eat chocolate it makes me happy. And you tell me that when I'm happy you're happy. So if you give me chocolate then you'll be happy.
So I gave her chocolate. How could I have possibly not given it to her. Her reasoning was sound and logical.
Because she is so articulate and is a perfectionist, she never had many baby-words or malapropisms. These are the ones she has now:
Lost and Fountain = lost and found
Zucchini = bikini
That song that the frog made famous: hello my baby, hello my darlin', hello my ragtime gal becomes gagging gal. Which I think is hilarious.
Z doesn't speak clearly enough to say funny things yet, but he simply is funny. And the more tired he gets the funnier and sillier he gets. Last weekend the kids slept at their Baba's and A told Baba that when Z gets tired he gets sillier and sillier. And Baba asked what happens when A gets tired? A replied: I just get miserable. To which Baba, trying very hard to keep a straight face, said: That's honest.
But the two kids have always been like this. A's first word was No. Z's was Tickle Tickle. Unfortunately, now that he's two I get a lot more No from him than anything else, but as I've learned through the good and the bad, it's just a phase and this too shall pass.
Monday, October 4, 2010
I'm a fetish?!
A few weeks ago I was out at a little coffee shop I frequent. There was this guy there, another regular, and he started talking to me. He had asked me out sometime last year right after I was separated and I told him no, I was married. Because in my mind I still was. Let's call him P. So a few weeks ago he asked me why he never saw my husband with me. I told him I am not married anymore. He asked me for my number and I thought, why not? So I gave it to him. As I was leaving he asked my why the last time he asked me out I said I was married. I looked at him like he was simple and said: Because I was married.
He gave me his number too but I threw it out because I knew that I would never call him. If someone wants to go out with me then he can call me. I'm not chasing anyone. I don't want to be with anyone who doesn't want to be with me. But that's a conversation for a different time.
Tonight P called. I saw it was him on call display, wasn't going to answer, but then I thought, what the hell? So I answered. We chatted a bit about his work, he runs his own company doing seasonal work. I told him about playing in the park with my kids.
Then his voice got all... not intimate... more sexy but not in the good way, and he told me that he loves women who are plump and round and that I'm his fetish. He said that he really wants to take me out and feed me a meal. That I'm like a cute teddy bear. And that he wants to take me out for chicken wings. Seriously?! Chicken Wings?! It was a first phone call out of a bad sitcom. He basically told me that he likes that I'm fat and that he wants to watch me get fatter eating chicken wings. I'm not sure what dating book he's reading but it really should be taken off the market.
Let's talk about this. I am fat. Some people say: Oh, don't talk negatively about yourself. But I'm not. I'm just speaking the truth. I'm fat. It's not an insult, it's an adjective describing my body. I've always been fat and my weight has been an issue for as long as I can remember. But I've reached a point in my life where I just don't care anymore. I don't diet, I don't freak out about what I do or don't eat, I don't keep food journals or obsess about what I ate or what I should or shouldn't eat next. I eat reasonably healthfully. I don't exercise enough but I don't spend my days on the couch doing nothing. I make sure I have clothes that fit me, feel good and are flattering. And I don't read magazines or watch tv advertising. Yes, I am fat, but that is not my defining characteristic. There's a whole lot more to me.
I guess what I'm saying is that if someone is interested in me and wants to get to know me for who I am and also happens to be attracted to my body type, then that's awesome. But if someone just wants to be with me so he can fatten me up even more because that turns him on... Well, that turns me off.
He gave me his number too but I threw it out because I knew that I would never call him. If someone wants to go out with me then he can call me. I'm not chasing anyone. I don't want to be with anyone who doesn't want to be with me. But that's a conversation for a different time.
Tonight P called. I saw it was him on call display, wasn't going to answer, but then I thought, what the hell? So I answered. We chatted a bit about his work, he runs his own company doing seasonal work. I told him about playing in the park with my kids.
Then his voice got all... not intimate... more sexy but not in the good way, and he told me that he loves women who are plump and round and that I'm his fetish. He said that he really wants to take me out and feed me a meal. That I'm like a cute teddy bear. And that he wants to take me out for chicken wings. Seriously?! Chicken Wings?! It was a first phone call out of a bad sitcom. He basically told me that he likes that I'm fat and that he wants to watch me get fatter eating chicken wings. I'm not sure what dating book he's reading but it really should be taken off the market.
Let's talk about this. I am fat. Some people say: Oh, don't talk negatively about yourself. But I'm not. I'm just speaking the truth. I'm fat. It's not an insult, it's an adjective describing my body. I've always been fat and my weight has been an issue for as long as I can remember. But I've reached a point in my life where I just don't care anymore. I don't diet, I don't freak out about what I do or don't eat, I don't keep food journals or obsess about what I ate or what I should or shouldn't eat next. I eat reasonably healthfully. I don't exercise enough but I don't spend my days on the couch doing nothing. I make sure I have clothes that fit me, feel good and are flattering. And I don't read magazines or watch tv advertising. Yes, I am fat, but that is not my defining characteristic. There's a whole lot more to me.
I guess what I'm saying is that if someone is interested in me and wants to get to know me for who I am and also happens to be attracted to my body type, then that's awesome. But if someone just wants to be with me so he can fatten me up even more because that turns him on... Well, that turns me off.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
mean little girls
Girls can be so mean. I mean, I know that boys can be too, but girls seem to mean for no reason at all. Maybe there are reasons and I just don't know them. I'm not mean unless I'm given reason to be. Then I can be Really Mean. But I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, I consciously try not to judge people based on what they look like, how they dress, or what they do for a living. (I do judge people based on spelling though). But I'm talking about little girls. For instance:
Last week at school when my mom picked A up the teacher said that A had been pretty quiet. A told my mom (her Baba), that some of the other girls were being mean to her. They called her a knucklehead and told her that all she does is make scribbles. And that those girls wouldn't let her play with them. I found that out this morning right before I took A to a birthday party for one of her classmates. She was so excited to go to the party. She wore her best dress and I could see how excited she was.
The party had one of those huge bouncy things and the kids were playing on it. They would go in, jump, climb around and then come down a slide. I saw her come out the slide side a couple of times but then when I didn't see her for a few minutes I went to check on her. She was by herself and really upset. I asked her what was wrong and she said that the other kids told her she can't play with them and they pushed her over. I know that she's four and I also know that she makes up a lot of stuff, but she was really upset. So I took her over to one of the kids who I know she is friends with but A was so sad that she didn't want to play anymore. She asked me to take her home. She didn't even want to stay for cake or get a loot bag. Now anyone who knows A knows that there must have been something pretty bad going on for her to not want cake.
I tried to get her to play with some of the other kids who weren't bouncing but she was so dejected. So after trying a few different things, we left. These are the things I did:
1. Asked her what happened.
2. Suggested she play outside of the bouncy with some of the other kids.
3. Took her by the hand to a different area of the gym to get her involved with some ball kicking (aka soccer).
4. Gave her hugs and told her that there were lots of kids to play with and she should ignore those other kids.
I have not seen A so sad for a very long time. And it made me really sad. This is the first time I am dealing with this and I know that it will not be the last. And I want to know what different ideas there are out there. I know that I can't change the behaviour of anyone, but I do want to teach A how to react differently. For instance:
I want her to know that there are lots of people out there and if someone doesn't treat her nicely then she can walk away and will find someone else to play with. I want her to know that when people say mean things to her or leave her out that it's a reflection of them and not of her. I want her to be proud of who she is and not question that based on someone else's opinion. And want her to have the kind of self worth and respect that will make her not want to be with people who aren't good to her. I know there is more for her to take from this but I don't know what right now.
I am going to speak to her teacher in the morning about what happened so she can keep an eye on it. I'm also going to kick those little girls' asses. No, not really, I just want to. And I'm going to talk to A on a regular basis to know what's going on there and make it really easy for her to talk about it. I'll give her the best advice I can, and if I can't then hopefully her therapist can.
What?! A four year old in therapy?! Yes, she was actually there when x hurt Z and saw and heard the fracture happen. And then her daddy was gone and she isn't allowed to see him, talk to him, write to him, or hear from him in any way. So therapy it is. And if she can learn tools for dealing with meanies while she is there, then all the more power.
A is also going through a hard time because she is remembering her daddy less and less. She asked me the other day why her daddy died. I said: Your daddy didn't die, honey. I said it in a very gentle voice. She said: I know. I said: Is it easier for you to pretend that he's dead? She said: Yes. I said: As long as you know that he isn't really dead then it's fine to pretend he is. And I thought (but didn't say) it's easier for me to pretend that he's dead too...
I have no idea who, if anyone, is reading this blog. On the off chance that someone is and has some wisdom to share about any of this, please be in touch. Thanks.
Last week at school when my mom picked A up the teacher said that A had been pretty quiet. A told my mom (her Baba), that some of the other girls were being mean to her. They called her a knucklehead and told her that all she does is make scribbles. And that those girls wouldn't let her play with them. I found that out this morning right before I took A to a birthday party for one of her classmates. She was so excited to go to the party. She wore her best dress and I could see how excited she was.
The party had one of those huge bouncy things and the kids were playing on it. They would go in, jump, climb around and then come down a slide. I saw her come out the slide side a couple of times but then when I didn't see her for a few minutes I went to check on her. She was by herself and really upset. I asked her what was wrong and she said that the other kids told her she can't play with them and they pushed her over. I know that she's four and I also know that she makes up a lot of stuff, but she was really upset. So I took her over to one of the kids who I know she is friends with but A was so sad that she didn't want to play anymore. She asked me to take her home. She didn't even want to stay for cake or get a loot bag. Now anyone who knows A knows that there must have been something pretty bad going on for her to not want cake.
I tried to get her to play with some of the other kids who weren't bouncing but she was so dejected. So after trying a few different things, we left. These are the things I did:
1. Asked her what happened.
2. Suggested she play outside of the bouncy with some of the other kids.
3. Took her by the hand to a different area of the gym to get her involved with some ball kicking (aka soccer).
4. Gave her hugs and told her that there were lots of kids to play with and she should ignore those other kids.
I have not seen A so sad for a very long time. And it made me really sad. This is the first time I am dealing with this and I know that it will not be the last. And I want to know what different ideas there are out there. I know that I can't change the behaviour of anyone, but I do want to teach A how to react differently. For instance:
I want her to know that there are lots of people out there and if someone doesn't treat her nicely then she can walk away and will find someone else to play with. I want her to know that when people say mean things to her or leave her out that it's a reflection of them and not of her. I want her to be proud of who she is and not question that based on someone else's opinion. And want her to have the kind of self worth and respect that will make her not want to be with people who aren't good to her. I know there is more for her to take from this but I don't know what right now.
I am going to speak to her teacher in the morning about what happened so she can keep an eye on it. I'm also going to kick those little girls' asses. No, not really, I just want to. And I'm going to talk to A on a regular basis to know what's going on there and make it really easy for her to talk about it. I'll give her the best advice I can, and if I can't then hopefully her therapist can.
What?! A four year old in therapy?! Yes, she was actually there when x hurt Z and saw and heard the fracture happen. And then her daddy was gone and she isn't allowed to see him, talk to him, write to him, or hear from him in any way. So therapy it is. And if she can learn tools for dealing with meanies while she is there, then all the more power.
A is also going through a hard time because she is remembering her daddy less and less. She asked me the other day why her daddy died. I said: Your daddy didn't die, honey. I said it in a very gentle voice. She said: I know. I said: Is it easier for you to pretend that he's dead? She said: Yes. I said: As long as you know that he isn't really dead then it's fine to pretend he is. And I thought (but didn't say) it's easier for me to pretend that he's dead too...
I have no idea who, if anyone, is reading this blog. On the off chance that someone is and has some wisdom to share about any of this, please be in touch. Thanks.
Anniversaries - friends or foes?
Tomorrow is an anniversary for me. It is the one year mark from when I came home from work and my 13.5 month old could not sit up or roll over because it caused him too much pain. After being very confused and upset as to why my husband at the time, we'll call him x (he doesn't deserve to be capitalized), hadn't called me when Z got hurt, or taken him to emergency, I took him to emergency myself. And was told that he had a compression fracture in his spine. When I told the ER doc what x had said happened, the doc said that spinal compression fractures happen when a 14 year old falls off a roof, not when a dad is playing with his kid. I figured that this was one of those anomalies in life. Because of course it must have happened the way x told me it did. He would have never hurt anyone. He went out of his way to not hurt people and to help them. The doc said that Z would be admitted overnight for observation so I stayed with him. x had taken A to stay at my mom's for the night but he did not stay at the hospital overnight, it was just me and Z.
The next day we were told that Child Family Services (CFS) would be investigating the injury. When the woman came in to talk to us about it, x was out of the room for a few minutes. She explained to me how they have to look into any injuries that look suspicious. I said of course they did. I said do what you need to, ask whatever you want. We have nothing to hide. At this point they must have known that Z had been hurt on purpose. They knew I wasn't at home at the time of the injury and they must have been thinking: Oh, you poor woman. Because I had no idea what was coming but I think she knew.
So tomorrow is the one year anniversary of Z's injury. He is fine now. He didn't walk until he was almost 19 months and had physio and I did lots of exercises with him. He is completely healed and the docs have said that because he was so young when it happened he won't have any permanent damage from the injury. Thank the universe for that one.
The next day after we were released from the hospital, x told me that he had been hurting Z since he was born. I'm not going to get into any details because it makes me sick and you don't need to read things like that. Especially not when you know it's fact and not fiction. I lost it on him. I screamed, cried, keened. I asked him why. He said he didn't know. He said that he tried to find a pattern, tried to figure out what triggered it and he just couldn't. I said: You were lucid enough to try to figure out why but you didn't ask for help?!
Then he said that now that he told me, he didn't think he would do it anymore so I could still leave the kids alone with him. I told him that until he got himself sorted out that he couldn't live with us so either he would have to move out or else the kids and I would. He said it was a family home and we were the family so he would leave. I didn't make him leave right then, it was the middle of the night. And I was so shocked, so hurt, so... I don't think I know the words that apply here. But I do know that I was in denial. And shock. I felt so alone so I asked him to lie down with me and hold me. And he did. As soon as he touched me I tensed up completely and knew that I could never let him touch me or our kids again. We were both up all night and the next morning he called his mom and she came to get him and he left to stay with her until he knew what his next steps were.
I will not go any further in the actual story of what happened and what has happened since because it is an active criminal case but suffice it to say that was just the beginning.
So here I am now, the day before the first of a three day anniversary: Z injured, x telling me it had been continuous abuse, and my last time seeing x. And I've been thinking about anniversaries and what they mean to people.
I am taking this time to look at where I am, where I was, how I got here, and where I'd like to go. Thankfully I have only myself and my children to think about in making these decisions. And although the kids are a huge part of these anniversaries, they don't really get it.
But then I started thinking about happy anniversaries. Like wedding anniversaries. Most couples go out for a nice meal, go away for a weekend, buy each other flowers, jewelry, bon-bons, whatever. And it's very romantic because you need to remember the romance of the day you got married. I have a different take on anniversaries. Now, I know I had a conversation with someone about this and I can't remember who it was or whose idea this was, but here's the basic idea:
Take the opportunity of knowing that this is a yearly event and take the time to talk about the last year. What made you happy, what didn't. What you accomplished, what you didn't. What promises had been made and not kept or wonderful surprises. But mostly, talk about whether or not you want to remain in this situation for another year. If there are changes you need to make or have made by your partner in order to be happy, then this should be the time to voice them. And then decide if you want to take the next year to work on things or if you want to walk away. And then, if you do stay together to work on things, on the next anniversary go over what happened. A year is long enough to make changes but not so long as to hold you up for the rest of your life.
I'm specifically thinking of marriage. Once you get married and are legally bound, it's almost like it doesn't matter anymore. You can stop giving foot rubs, stop cooking or cleaning, or start doing things you had never done that might be detrimental to the relationship. And it doesn't matter because you are have entered into a LIFETIME contract. Which is ridiculous. No one in his/her right mind would sign a lifetime contract for anything, but we still do it for marriage.
I think that in every relationship, be it business or personal, there should always be an exit clause and always room for negotiations. Perhaps that's unrealistic, but I really think that overall, there would be more short time pain but way more long term gain. And isn't the pursuit of happiness what it's pretty much about?
The next day we were told that Child Family Services (CFS) would be investigating the injury. When the woman came in to talk to us about it, x was out of the room for a few minutes. She explained to me how they have to look into any injuries that look suspicious. I said of course they did. I said do what you need to, ask whatever you want. We have nothing to hide. At this point they must have known that Z had been hurt on purpose. They knew I wasn't at home at the time of the injury and they must have been thinking: Oh, you poor woman. Because I had no idea what was coming but I think she knew.
So tomorrow is the one year anniversary of Z's injury. He is fine now. He didn't walk until he was almost 19 months and had physio and I did lots of exercises with him. He is completely healed and the docs have said that because he was so young when it happened he won't have any permanent damage from the injury. Thank the universe for that one.
The next day after we were released from the hospital, x told me that he had been hurting Z since he was born. I'm not going to get into any details because it makes me sick and you don't need to read things like that. Especially not when you know it's fact and not fiction. I lost it on him. I screamed, cried, keened. I asked him why. He said he didn't know. He said that he tried to find a pattern, tried to figure out what triggered it and he just couldn't. I said: You were lucid enough to try to figure out why but you didn't ask for help?!
Then he said that now that he told me, he didn't think he would do it anymore so I could still leave the kids alone with him. I told him that until he got himself sorted out that he couldn't live with us so either he would have to move out or else the kids and I would. He said it was a family home and we were the family so he would leave. I didn't make him leave right then, it was the middle of the night. And I was so shocked, so hurt, so... I don't think I know the words that apply here. But I do know that I was in denial. And shock. I felt so alone so I asked him to lie down with me and hold me. And he did. As soon as he touched me I tensed up completely and knew that I could never let him touch me or our kids again. We were both up all night and the next morning he called his mom and she came to get him and he left to stay with her until he knew what his next steps were.
I will not go any further in the actual story of what happened and what has happened since because it is an active criminal case but suffice it to say that was just the beginning.
So here I am now, the day before the first of a three day anniversary: Z injured, x telling me it had been continuous abuse, and my last time seeing x. And I've been thinking about anniversaries and what they mean to people.
I am taking this time to look at where I am, where I was, how I got here, and where I'd like to go. Thankfully I have only myself and my children to think about in making these decisions. And although the kids are a huge part of these anniversaries, they don't really get it.
But then I started thinking about happy anniversaries. Like wedding anniversaries. Most couples go out for a nice meal, go away for a weekend, buy each other flowers, jewelry, bon-bons, whatever. And it's very romantic because you need to remember the romance of the day you got married. I have a different take on anniversaries. Now, I know I had a conversation with someone about this and I can't remember who it was or whose idea this was, but here's the basic idea:
Take the opportunity of knowing that this is a yearly event and take the time to talk about the last year. What made you happy, what didn't. What you accomplished, what you didn't. What promises had been made and not kept or wonderful surprises. But mostly, talk about whether or not you want to remain in this situation for another year. If there are changes you need to make or have made by your partner in order to be happy, then this should be the time to voice them. And then decide if you want to take the next year to work on things or if you want to walk away. And then, if you do stay together to work on things, on the next anniversary go over what happened. A year is long enough to make changes but not so long as to hold you up for the rest of your life.
I'm specifically thinking of marriage. Once you get married and are legally bound, it's almost like it doesn't matter anymore. You can stop giving foot rubs, stop cooking or cleaning, or start doing things you had never done that might be detrimental to the relationship. And it doesn't matter because you are have entered into a LIFETIME contract. Which is ridiculous. No one in his/her right mind would sign a lifetime contract for anything, but we still do it for marriage.
I think that in every relationship, be it business or personal, there should always be an exit clause and always room for negotiations. Perhaps that's unrealistic, but I really think that overall, there would be more short time pain but way more long term gain. And isn't the pursuit of happiness what it's pretty much about?
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