Midwestern Mommy

Lately, I’ve notice something saddening.

My bond with “the boy” seems weakened. We don’t play like we used to. We don’t act silly together anymore. And I’m missing him. I crave time with him. I’ve gotten so into this blogging thing (writing for other blogs, my own and a few other projects) that I feel distracted when I’m with him. I’m always thinking about the next post or what e-mail needs to be written. Or, if I don’t have the quiet time, there’s always one more thing to clean.

It’s getting me down. Especially since first grade is around the corner. He’s growing up fast. I don’t want to wake up years from now and wonder, “Who IS this person?” I want KNOW him. And I don’t want him to question whether his mother loves her computer more than she loves him. (Because he’s started doing that. Breaks my heart.)

I’ve had to pull back before when other areas of my life need to extra attention. And I’ve got to pull back now for a few weeks. I MISS my little boy.

My husband and I rarely talk. He sits in front of his laptop in the evenings. I clean up from dinner, or prepare for the next day, get Seth off to bed, shower then sit in front of mine. By the end of the night, hubby and I have hardly spoken. We seem like roommates. And its sad. We both need to break away from our electronic bonds. And that change is going to have to start with me. I need to take care of my little family first. For now.

Since I’ve made commitments to others, I plan to keep those. But posting here might be sporadic. But I hope to visit everyone as much as possible though.

One of Seth’s favorite things to do is climb the tree in our front yard. He loves to sit on his favorite branch then peer down at us “little people” as if to survey his kingdom. A few weeks ago, when he heard we’d need to trim some branches, he was worried he’d lose his prime spot. But his worry turned to extreme delight. Can you see why?

“Hey Mom,” he said excitedly. “It looks like I have a really big wiener! Take a picture! Take a picture!”

This, from a child who refuses to let me take pictures of him.

And do you see how he’s leaning back? As if to say “CHECK THIS THING OUT!” He did that on his own! (And now all of those pictures at Desperately Seeking** make so much more sense. It must be instinctual!)

Oy.

**This link is SO NOT SAFE for work or little eyes. If you have delicate sensibilities you probably don’t want to click on that link.

P.S. Am guest blogging at A Bun’s Life today while she enjoys (what is hopefully) some rest and relaxation. Oh and there’s a feature on Kim from Parachuting Without a Net on St. Louis Blogger’s Guild up as well.

Recently Kristin’s boys were talking about the phrases she uses most often — so often they’d probably end up on her tombstone. And then she asked her readers, “what phrases will be on your tombstone?”

Here are some of mine:

“Are you wearing underwear? Because we can’t go to grandma’s unless you’re wearing underwear.” (The boy likes to go “commando” and that really freaks out my mom.)

“No being bossy. That’s MY job.”

“Get your finger out of your nose.”

“Dude. Stop giving yourself a wedgie.” (Really, what is WITH that?)

What phrases are you known for by friends and family? What will be on your tombstone?

After almost three hours of hard labor, the doctor held up the newborn as if presenting a trophy. After the baby boy was swaddled and given a chance to nurse, he was quickly whisked away for a wash.

A few minutes later, the nurse walked into the worn out woman’s room carrying the new little person.  

“What will you name him,” asked the nurse.

“Well, we can’t decide. It’s either going to be ‘Trevor’ or ‘Seth’.”

The nurse smiled. Then she looked down at the sleeping infant and said, “Oh. Hello there, Seth.”

The new parents exchanged amused looks.

“Well, then I guess his name is going to be Seth,” said the dad.

And so it was.

Happy Birthday sweet, silly, smart, charming, shy, tender-hearted, loving, snuggly, energetic, handsome Seth.

The hubby and I were one of those couples who couldn’t wait to find out the sex of our baby. I remember the moment we laid eyes on our little boy — and his privates. There he was in black and white, grainy glory — giving us the finger.

My first thought was “What in the WORLD am I going to do with a boy?” Its not that I didn’t like boys. They just sort of scared me because I didn’t understand the them. 

Now that I have a little boy, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Its been an educational and entertaining journey to say the least. But then again, I still don’t understand the boys that are older than Seth — especially the ones that range from 8 to 12-ish.  I call that ”the meat head stage”. Why is it fun to beat the crap out of each other? Why is it hysterically funny to fart in someone’s face? Just. don’t. get.

A few days ago, three neighbor boys (in this age range) were hurling aluminum bats at each other. They weren’t running away from the bats, they were trying to CATCH them. For fun! (These are sweet kids with great parents, by the way.)

Last week Seth’s play date Nick was telling us about his big brother’s best friend “Scooter”. And how Scooter once knocked Nick down and peed in his face. At the time I assumed Scooter was a dog. But nope. Scooter is a person. (Don’t know anything about Scooter. But my guess as to Scooter’s future? Involves at least two trips to jail and if he’s lucky, a stint in some ”g0lden sh0wer” type porn. )

I know my sweet, albeit squirrelly, little boy will have us visiting urgent care facilities in a few years due to his own meat head antics. It seems to be some rite of passage. But thinking about it makes my palms sweat. Who knew the temptation to wrap a kid in 32 layers of bubble wrap could be so strong? 

P.S. Just reviewed a cool new kids toy thanks to Parent Bloggers Network. For my review, click here.

Caution: Bitchy rant that will probably make you think less of me ahead. 

Most mornings, you can find my son and I in the breakfast nook. His brow is furrowed. My temper is tested. There is alot teeth grinding on both our parts. I’m talking homework.

We sit together for almost an hour each morning. Since his kindergarten session starts in the afternoon, we started doing homework in the mornings, when his brain is fresh. (Next year will be a whole different schedule.) But it doesn’t seem to matter - it is still a constant struggle.

Its not that he’s got an hour of homework — he usually only gets homework a few times a week. These worksheets should only take the child 10-20 minutes. But yet… With all of the lollygagging, singing about poopy butts and weenies, screeching, calling the dog, asking for a drink, going to the bathroom, whining, playing with the eraser, arguing, and fussing, these worksheets take more like 30-40 minutes.

And that’s only IF I’m standing right next to him to say, “Seth. Now you need to write a lowercase ‘r’. No, that’s uppercase. You need to erase that. Write a lowercase ‘r’. Seth! You just wrote another capital ‘r’. You need to write a small ‘r’. (He finally writes the ‘r’.) Ok great. Do you see you’re trying to write the word ‘rat’, what comes after the ‘r’. Yes! Its the ‘at’ sound. How do you think that’s spelled? Yes! ‘a’ and ’t’. Very good. Now write the ‘a’ and ‘t’. No, not on this other line. You need to write the ‘a’ and ‘t’ right next to the ‘r’. We’re writing the word ‘rat’ remember? Ok. Dude, what is that? That doesn’t look like an ‘a’. Remember? An ‘a’ is a circle and a stick, Bunny. No that stick is on the wrong side of the circle.

After 20 minutes of this. (I’m losing patience faster as the school year wears on.) I get frustrated and start talking to him in a very irritated tone. And I wonder… Why can’t the child just write out the freaking ‘r’ and the ‘at’ on the same line? Why can’t he just do it without me standing over him? When I volunteer in his classroom, I see kids doing their work by themselves. Why can’t Seth do that? Is this normal? Is there something wrong with me and my approach? Is there something wrong with him? I see other kids follow directions, why can’t he? (We spend alot of time correcting work he did at school - not that he didn’t know the material - he just didn’t follow directions or finish the project.)

And since his skills aren’t up to par in certain areas we do extra little projects. He brings them in to his teacher — mainly so she can see he’s trying. (And also, because I don’t think she’d believe me otherwise.) He’s come a long way with his fine motor skills since the beginning of the year but… There’s alot more that needs to be done. (The bright-side is that his handwriting is more legible than hubby’s chicken scratch.)

I can tell the homework has taken a toll on our relationship. We aren’t as close as we used to be. What doesn’t help is that I’m the one who has to make sure he does all of those things he hates to do - like shower, brush teeth, enforce bedtimes, eat veggies, do homework and so forth. Hubby takes him ice skating for two hours then out for an cream dinner and HE’s the hero. I’m the big, bad bitch.

When I think of the upcoming years of homework help, I start to wonder if I can talk my doctor into giving me a script for a lifetime supply of Valium. Clearly ONE of us needs some sort of medicine to keep from going crazy and strangling the other.

But I have to wonder… Is all of this “normal”?

P.S. I know that the kitchen isn’t usually the best environment for kids to do homework. But we have no other kids. The breakfast nook is one of the quietest places in the house. With all of the construction and remodeling of neighbor homes as well as trash and delivery trucks driving by, the rooms facing  the street are far more distracting than a little room that faces a quiet back yard.

S: “Mom, I’ve been thinking alot lately.”

Me: “What about?”

S: “Well, I just don’t know how anyone could not like me.”

Me: “Well, I don’t know how anyone could not like you either.”

S: “I know! Its like….Its IMPOSSIBLE to not like me!”

Me: “You’re right. You’re cute, cuddly, fun and you’re very kind to other people. You’re also very good at sharing and you’re a good friend. What’s not to like about that?”

S: “I know! And I’m good looking and I have LOTS of cool super powers!”

Me: (trying not to giggle.) “Oh and you’re very humble too.”

S: “Yeah. I sure am.”

Uh-huh.

P. S. Speaking of kids… There’s a review (on behalf of Parent Bloggers Network) of Hip Hop Harry’s “Move Those Feet” on Midwestern Mommy Reviews today. If you take care of tiny dancers, you might want to think about this dvd.

P.S.S.Did you know that your uterus can fall out? Yup. And when it does, it apparently looks like a scrotum. Oy! But you know what can go a long way in preventing that? Kegels. (You’ve just freaked out a little after reading that and you’re TOTALLY doing Kegels right now, aren’t ya? Me too! But that’s one of the nuggets we learned during that little campy-camp thingee in New Jersey. Plan to give you the lowdown very, very soon.)

This afternoon, I have a date with a feisty and funny friend named Dana. (No, not the funny and feisty blogger friend named Dana. Although the two do have lots in common which is probably why I love ‘em both!) It has been decided that we will do a little something called “margarita hair.”

Margarita hair:  Your beloved friend who used to “do hair” (or “hahhhrrr” as some say around these parts) for a living will highligh/color your “hahhhrrr” at her house while you both drink margaritas and your kids run amok and eat junk.

I’m looking foward to the experience, as is “the boy”. (He loves her kids. And her trampoline.)

Being that I’ve been a blondy-girl all my life, the decided color is far different– a warm brunette. Been wanting to do it for awhile now. (Yes!    All     of      you      super     hot      brunettes      have      truly      inspired     me. )

So by 6:30 tonight, I’ll either be laughing, crying, or both. Will I bemoan the color I chose? Is combining alcohol with hair color a bad idea? 

Stay tuned…

Have a little review of The Zula Patrol’s “Explore Space!” dvd on behalf of the Parent Bloggers Network at Midwestern Mommy today. Go ‘head. Have a looky-loo. There’s a virtual margarita in it for you!

My heart is so heavy these days. 

I have a difficult enough time sleeping. But when I travel its far worse. I’m really weird about noise, pillows, texture of blankets, mattresses and a few other things. Usually I don’t manage more than an hour or two a night when on the road. After awhile the stress of being in a new place and no sleep wear on me. My routine is disrupted, I don’t get any time to myself, and I get really edgy and bitchy. I usually end up with at least one migraine during a trip and several after the trip. (Ask poor Kristie. She was my BlogHer roommate.)

Before the trip I was completely stressed. Things only got worse while on the trip. I took on some projects I thought I could finish while on the trip. I vastly overestimated the time I MIGHT have to get these projects done. I barely slept and had a super nasty migraine over the course of the trip. Honestly, I was ready to go home 12 hours after I got there. And no offense to Texas. Ya’ll have great weather but I seem to get this way anywhere I go these days.

During our last day in Texas, my cell phone died in the middle of a conversation with Marc. Our flight got cancelled. I got angry. Because he was trying to make back up arrangements, he was late in picking us up (he dropped us off at a movie while he went to a meeting). And I when my son asked why daddy wasn’t there yet (we’d be waiting almost three hours.) I had no idea and I assumed the worst. I said something very mean and unfair about Marc which Seth repeated within minutes of seeing Marc.

To make matters worse, I felt betrayed by my son for saying this to Marc. I know! He’s five. How stupid. I had no right to badmouth my husband in front of my son, let alone feel hurt by what Seth repeated to his father. The next day I made my son feel guilty for relaying my comment to Marc.

Oh and did I mention that at one point while in the car with Seth and Marc (we ended up driving home. Yes! At least 11 hours in a car — all of those miles covered in about 20 hours.) Seth was talking and I yelled at him to “Shut up.”

God, I can be so ugly and mean. And I’m so horrified and ashamed. I hadn’t packed enough meds for an extra day so that meant no sleep and a raging migraine. I hurt so bad I seriously thought I should go to the hospital. Most of my energy was directed at not throwing up. Turns out I have a nasty sinus infection now which was probably a reason as to why I was feeling so crappy before as well as during the trip.

My husband is really angry and disgusted with me. I patched things up with Seth but my marriage seems as if it might not recover from this. There have been other fights through the years and I think we are both so tired of fighting. I don’t know how to fix this. I fear its a permanent rift between us. And that really scares and saddens me.

My migraines, sinus issues, and insomnia don’t help. Because there are times, after a good week or so of not sleeping and feeling almost constant pain, I start to feel like a raw, exposed nerve. I seriously start to wonder if I’m on the cusps if I’m losing my mind. I start feeling shakey and sick and weak. My husband doesn’t understand what it is like to live with constant pain. (But I can see how it would suck to live with me.) I start to get depressed. I’ve tried all sorts of medications to help. So far what I’m on now has been the best way to stave off migraines but even the meds are no match for all of the triggers that can set off a migraine. (It is better now. But I still get weeks where I’ll have 4-6 migraines in one week.)

But insomnia, sinus issues, and migraines aside, I feel so ashamed of my behavior to the two men I love dearly. When I apologized to Seth again today he said, “Don’t worry mom. You were just having a few bad days.” I feel like I don’t deserve his love. Even now, the whole thing just reduces me to tears. And I’m working on taking some steps that will hopefully prove to be constructive. I feel like I’ve sunk to an all time low. I didn’t control my frustration and got irrationally angry. And I took it out on two people I love the most.

So I’m sorry about not visiting. I’m sorry this is so heavy and depressing. I’m sorry I can be so toxic. Trolls, or anyone for that matter, if you want to tell me what a horrible bitch I am, you are more than welcomed to. Because I deserve it. I did act like a totally selfish, horrible, ugly, hateful person. And I’m so horrified. But I just wanted to let you guys know why I haven’t been around. I felt like I owed ya’ll an explanation.

Oh and I wrote a review for Building Bobland Bay for Parent Bloggers Network. If you are interested click HERE.

A few months ago, when Seth started singing, “Bow Chicka, Bow Woooowwww.” I laughed out loud.

He has no idea what that means. But he learned it on the bus. (And now every time he does that I think of Jess and her park ranger fetish.)

The other day, he came home with a new one…  At dinner he referred to some other kid on the bus (a 5th grader) as being a “bad-ass mofo.” Stunned, I asked him to repeat what he’d just said. Stoically, he obliged.

He’s five.

I tried not to laugh. It was difficult. He knows what curse words are. He hears me swear like a trucker (when I’m in traffic) quite frequently. But he knows that as a kid, he’s not allowed to say those kind of words. (Ah yes, the “do as I say and not as I do” parenting method.) He also didn’t understand what he was saying were curse words, (as ”badass” and ”mo-fo” aren’t a part of my repertoire) nor does he know what “mo-fo” means.

But I can’t help but wonder… How can the boy learn so much from one 10-minute bus ride, yet struggle so much in a three-hour kindergarten session? Maybe I should hire a 5th grade boy to teach him how to read? You know, one of those “bad ass mofo” ones.

 So… Let’s talk about sex. Or more aptly a book called Sex Detox. A review of the book, on behalf of PBN can be found here.

“He has a difficult time concentrating.”

“He’s having a hard time completing his schoolwork during class time.”

“He has a hard time remembering and following directions.

I’ve been hearing these sentences alot in the past few months. At first, I assumed it was the newness of kindergarten as well as a change in his routine. When it persisted, I chalked it up to him being the youngest in his class. I thought I’d give him some time to settle down as well as settle in.  We started working on extra projects to reinforce what he was learning in class. We’d work each day in a quiet place, free of distractions. And yet, amongst optimal conditions at home, Seth has had trouble finishing worksheets that should only take 10 minutes to complete.

We also started taking morning walks or playing games like “red light, green light” in hopes he’d burn off some of that extra energy before his afternoon school sessions.

I started buying organic, thinking his lack of focus and constant movement might be due to the plethora of preservatives found in food today.

There have been days he’s done well at school — completing tasks and keeping focused. These good days gave me hope and caused me to wonder if my worrying was for naught.  But at this point, I can no longer deny — even with a “good” day thrown in here and there? I’m still  hearing the same types of sentiments from his teachers. He’s progressing but not nearly as quickly as his classmates, and that’s with extra help provided by the school. I still see alot of the signs at home. Seth is very social. He’s very sweet. He learns quickly — when he really listens. But… he’s struggling. 

It is time to admit that something is “off.” He definitely needs to get tested for learning disabilities. Kids diagnosed with Sensory Integration Dysfunction typically have other issues that surface over time. So I’m not surprised we’re traveling this path of speculation, research, and testing again.

Is it ADHD? Is it an auditory processing issue? Is it something else? Is it a combination of issues? I don’t know. I have some ideas. But I’m not certain.

This period of limbo conjures up many memories. I remember years ago, feeling intimidated by the various channels we’d have to go through in order to get Seth testing and treatment. I remember setting up occupational and speech therapy sessions and asking therapists countless questions on how I could reinforce their efforts. The task seemed daunting. My biggest fear was I’d fail him. But day after day, month after month, this little boy progressed. Within a year’s time he had vastly improved, catching up developmentally to his peers. (In many aspects, he was even well ahead of his peers.) He was a much happier child. I was a much happier (and thankful) mom.

I now know that the unknowns are much scarier than getting a diagnosis. This quest will require more work on Seth’s and my part. There will be more power struggles and expressed frustration. There will be more meetings with the people who can help him as well as more trial and error. But there will be good days too. We may get through it clumsily, but we WILL get through it.

We’ll just have to tackle it the same way we did before — one day at a time.

Today I’m thinking of Wisconsin babes Cheryl, Ree, Dana, and Virtual Sprite. Go Packers!

 (Click on the pic to enlarge)

While I celebrated Seth’s first day back at school by putting away Christmas decorations and reading blogs the boy’s brain was hard at work. Apparently his brain got NO “exercise” while on Christmas vacation and that first day back was a rough one. The little man fell asleep in a shopping cart at the grocery store. (He used my purse as a pillow.)

 I would have gladly forgone the trip but we were out of a whole slew of stuff. So I just got the essentials and tried to stack them around him. Hey, at least I tried to keep any corners away from his face.

(Note: This is what your grocery cart looks like when you have a husband who travels alot and only one child. Frozen din-dins for everyone! Oh and eggs and brownie mix too.)