Well, not really waiting anymore. I think I’m going to stay put until Monday when my boss can get here to cover me. As is the way of the universe lately, everything that could go wrong at the buildings I manage today, DID go wrong. That’s one of the only things I hate about my job. I have long periods of quiet, where things run smoothly and my boss’s investments take care of themselves pretty much. But then, WHAMO…everything blows up in my face all at once. And I’ve got tenant issues coming out of my ears on top of that, so screw it. I called The Ex and Wife and told them that I was grateful, but that they had their weekend to themselves. They’ll come stay here and cover for me when my boss goes back home.
My relationship with The Ex and Wife provides me with endless amounts of blog fodder, let me tell ya. The Ex is my high school sweetheart, so there’s more history there than in any other area of my life. He’s basically a good man…we just couldn’t make it work together. Not surprisingly, we work together better now that we’re apart. We have our moments, but for the most part I appreciate him more now than ever before. He’s an old fashioned kind of guy, stubborn as a mule and loyal to a fault. It’s an unspoken agreement between us that we back each other up and work as a team.
The Wife is the voice of reason and neutral party. We get along well and I often joke that I like HER better than The Ex. She’s around 10 years younger than The Ex and I (yes, I was traded in for a new model…can you believe that?), so the whole situation took some serious effort on her part to deal with. I’ve always empathized with her situation…it’s not easy for a woman to accept another woman’s children. The Ex expected it to happen overnight and tried to force the issue. I told him to back off and be patient. It took her a year to warm up to the kids and another year to figure ME out on top of that. She called me one night, completely out of the blue and we had a good talk. I told her that as long as she treated my kids and I with respect, she would always recieve the same in return. I also told her that I’d value and consider any input from her regarding the kids but that, ultimately, I’m their mother and I make the final decisions. I’ve only had to overrule her once and I really hated to do it because she truly wanted to do what she believed was best for my kids.
We’ve had a few smaller bumps along the way though. Like the time she implied that my youngest wasn’t eating right with them when he was two years old because he wasn’t being fed right at home with me. I told her that two year olds that did ANYTHING their parents wanted were a disgrace to the species and that he wouldn’t die of malnutrition if all he wanted for dinner were more freakin bananas. She has no children of her own and has limited experience with little kids. I understood this at the time…and I didn’t laugh my fool head off until she had left. And, yes, I DID call all of my friends and share the giggle. But there was also the time that one of my kids, in typical kid fashion, stated that he didn’t have to listen to The Wife because she wasn’t his mommy. I hit the roof and I’m sure there will never be another repeat of THAT episode.
Anyways, ultimately The Wife and I get along famously. We’ll never be best friends but as long as she loves my children like she would her own, I wouldn’t ask for anything more.
Archive for July, 2005
Still trying to get all of my ducks in a row before I get out of here and head to NY. I might leave this afternoon, but I might have to hold off until Monday. This is a bad time of year for the shit to hit the fan really. I’ve got 3 major remodeling projects going right now in 3 different buildings and it makes me nervous to just up and leave, so I’ve recruited The Ex and his wife to take over in my stead. Unfortunately, they’ve been out of town all week and are trying to figure out if they want to come back tonight. If not, I’ll have to wait for my boss to get here Monday.
The good news is that we’re all packed and I think I’ve finally figured out how to fit 10 pounds of shit in a 5 pound bag.
You scored as Sirius Black. You are a gifted wizard and very loyal to your allegiance. Whilst you have a big heart and care very much about those around you, you can be a little arrogant and reckless at times.
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Sirius Black |
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85% | |
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Severus Snape |
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80% | |
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Harry Potter |
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80% | |
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Remus Lupin |
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80% | |
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Hermione Granger |
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70% | |
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Albus Dumbledore |
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70% | |
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Ron Weasley |
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50% | |
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Ginny Weasley |
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50% | |
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Draco Malfoy |
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50% | |
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Lord Voldemort |
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20% |
Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is…?
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Found via Witnit.
No TagsMy youngest son never fails to amaze me. I sat them down earlier tonight and told them that we’d be going to Kay’s for a little while to help her take care of her mom, who everyone calls Nana. Her eventual death will be the first human death for either boy to experience (we’ve already been through the drama of losing the family dog but they were both very young) and I wanted to be sure that they aren’t blindsided as to what to expect. I’m no good at this ‘talking about your feelings’ bullshit, so I’m pretty much flying blind.
Anyways, after going through the rigamarole of questions regarding heaven and other fairy tales that we tell each other to make ourselves feel better (hehe), my youngest says something that broke my heart.
“Has Nana’s hair fallen out like the Skin Horse said it would?”
It took him a minute to make me understand what in the hell he was talking about. When he was born, Nana gave us a huge boxed set of books with coordinating stuffed animals of the main characters of the books. We still have Stellaluna, The Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Velveteen Rabbit animals and books on the bookcases in the kids’ room. When he was little, we read those (and many other books) over and over again, but the Velveteen Rabbit was always his favorite. For those that haven’t read the books 30 gazillion times, this is a pertinent quote:
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
Some how, in his 8 year old mind, he equated ‘becoming real’ as dying. The saddest part to me is that, not only did Nana give him that book, but the description of what happens when you become real is exactly what is happening…with the exception of the eyes dropping out bit.
Through the wonders of science and chemotherapy, Nana has lost most of her hair, has no strength and, to a child, will look very, very shabby.
No TagsI just received a call from a girlfriend of mine. Her mother had recently been diagnosed with lung cancer and she’s reaching the last stages of her life as I write this. I will be driving out to NY as soon as I can make arrangements for someone to cover my job here for a while.
My friend, Kay, is in rough shape. The care of her mother has fallen strictly on her shoulders and I don’t know how she is doing it while also raising a family. Several people in my life are also dealing with sick and dying parents while trying to maintain their own lives and I am awestruck. I was 15 when my mother was diagnosed with cancer and 17 when she died and taking care of her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. EVER.
It makes me feel guilty to even think this way, but sometimes I am grateful that she died when she did.
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I’ve been meaning to post this picture that earned me an A on my Photo I final last spring. Out of every class I’ve taken, the photography class was the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced. It was an actual hands-on, from beginning to bitter end type class. We had to take the pics, develop the film, do the test pages, use the enlargers and develop the actual pictures. Not only did we end up working with some pretty shoddy equipment, halfway through the course I messed up mixing the chemicals and ruined 6 rolls of film that had the bulk of all of my assignments on them, so I had to retake all the shots.
I enjoyed the class but it was harder than any programming or networking class I’ve ever taken. I’m just not cut out for that right-brain shit.
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As much as Shadow is an aberration from the norm, she is still subject to normal kitty desires. A full belly and a sunny window and she’s a happy girl.
She continues to be well behaved and hasn’t really fucked up yet. If I could get her to stop weaving in and out of my legs while I’m trying to carry my morning coffee, we’d get along just fine.
No TagsNothing gets peoples panties in a wad like the old Discipline Versus Child Abuse debate. I again bow to the Master of Controversy:
Some people, maybe because of the way they were raised, were appalled, because they don’t understand the difference between discipline and child abuse. And ANY fucking fool who says you never have ANY reason to spank a child is a complete loon.
I recieved 3 memorable beatings when I was a kid/teenager. The first one happened when I was around 7 or 8. We had a Walk-A-Thon at school and I somehow managed to find myself sponsoring one of my classmates. I didn’t fully understand what that meant at the time I don’t think, but when the day came to pay up, I went into my parents checkbook, took a check and filled it out. I even signed MY name to the fucking thing and the bank honored it. About a month later, my mother found out and all hell broke loose. I vividly remember her chasing me around my bedroom with a hairbrush, threatening to beat me within an inch of my life. She got in a few good whacks when my father, ever the voice of reason, realized that (although I had done something wrong) I didn’t realize it was wrong. But boy oh boy did the message hit home.
The second time was shortly after my father died. My mother was stressed out as it was and this wasn’t a time when I should have been fucking around. I skipped school one day with some friends and hid out at a fort that we had in the woods. We accidentally set the fort on fire (it had been built out of dead pine tree branches with the pine needles still mostly intact). We burned down 2 acres of woodland with that little stunt and it didn’t take long for the cops to figure out who was involved. I got slapped around good for that one.
The third incident was for shoplifting…this was the same year that I had taken part in the fire incident, so I must have been 13 or so. I was quickly heading down a path that I shouldn’t have been going and my mother was (rightfully) pissed off. That was my 3rd and final smackdown and it’s not one I’d ever forget either.
With my own kids, I take a much more measured approach. I don’t wait for the shit to hit the fan and then overreact. What my mother did to me was fine, but the punishments always came in the heat of the moment. I decided many years ago what lines I wanted to draw in the sand for my children and I haven’t deviated from what I originally planned. My boys know that there are 3 things that will get their asses warmed: creating a danger to themselves, blatent disrespect of an adult in charge and taking/hurting other people’s property. Everything else is taken care of by loss of priviledges. I always give a warning, but ONE is all they get. If they still refuse to listen, than that’s their choice and they can deal with the consequences.
My oldest son has always been very EASY to raise. But, as luck would have it, puberty is sneaking up on him. He’s only 12, but the eye-rolling and heavy sighs have already started. I can tell you one thing though, I’ve raised him with an eye towards this period of time and I’ve always known that I wanted discipline instilled in him BEFORE this period of time. There’s nothing worse than trying to retrain a kid that’s in the midst of puberty when he’s been allowed to run wild his whole life. I’m fairly certain that he’ll eventually choose to pick a fight that he can’t win with me. I can also be fairly certain that if he EVER raised a hand to me, I’d open up a can of whoopass on him the likes of which he has never experienced. That’s the key to raising kids right there: you save that can of whoopass until you really need to drive the point home. If you’re opening that can every time the kid does something wrong, THAT is abuse.
There’s always been a huge difference between abuse and discipline in my mind. I’ve worked in both the child protective services field and the juvenile justice field. Ask any veteran of those fields and you’ll hear “CPS workers deal with the children who are beaten too much and JJ workers deal with the children who weren’t beaten enough”. There are HUGE swaths of difference between the two mindsets wherein lies the truth of the matter. Occasional physical discipline is NOT abuse. I’ve never actually met a CPS worker who believes that NO CHILD should EVER recieve a spanking. I know that there are those types out there, but most hold a much more realistic, middle-of-the-road approach.
Yes, there are children out there who have never had a spanking in their lives because they’ve never needed one. That’s wonderful and I’ve even met a few of the anomolies myself. Every child is an individual and needs to be treated as such.
It’s time that the world got back to common sense parenting.
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