Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Pavlov--yes, I'm your bitch apparently

Why is it that whenever I see an email from my ex in my inbox I get a visceral response akin to facing a lion alone in the wild.  Hands get sweaty, heart starts racing, stomach tightens.....and I am instantly defensive and pissed, even before I open it.

How do I get over this?

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Random statements made by my child last night

Bug was at his dad's for the weekend, and I picked him up after work last night.  I usually pepper him with questions about how his weekend went, did he do anything fun, etc.; just trying to get him to start talking.  So yesterday being MLK day, and me being all about the teachable moments (cough, yeah, right), I asked him if he knew why he didn't have to go to school that day.  He replied, "Cuz it's Martin Loofer King Day."  I then asked if he knew who that was, and he did not, but did know, "Well, he was a king!" 

Ummm, no, his last name was King.

"So his mom must have been really rich if her son was a King, so I should call her up an' ask her for a million dollars.  Can I have an iPod for my birthday?"

No, sweetheart, you're turning 7 you don't need an iPod.

"Well, its my birthday and I am the King on my birthday and so I am going to tell everyone to get together and give me an iPod.  No, wait, I want an iPad.  No, I know, they will get me a phone!"

You are not getting an iPad, I don't even have an iPad.  And you will get a phone when you need one, like when you are 16 and are driving.

Such horror and disbelief is emanating from the back seat.  Mother, you are SO unreasonable.

So, my life lesson from my son last night:  my son is a demanding little punk.  Not sure that was the message Dr. King was hoping to spread.

Monday, January 16, 2012

life s a divorcee mom

Hey there.  So today when I picked up R I was told that "because I had R for the long weekend, you can have him all week until Friday" which is when he picks him up for his normal weekend visit.,  He acts as if this is altruistic, but in essence, he is saying that the one extra day means he shouldn't have to drive the 23 miles to visit his son Tuesday and Thursday this week.  I am fine with this, however R feels that this sucks...leaving me with the chore of saying why his father doesn't want to see him when he is scheduled.  Such is the life of a divorced mom.  but when the child then says that he wishes you hadn't divorced, one starts to question the choices made. And I realize, divorce sucks.  For everyone involved.  Regardless of intent, desire, or repercussions.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The joy of a dead battery

As I have mentioned, my son is obsessed with a capital O with his Nintendo he received from Santa (watch the cookies at our house next year, old man).  Well, I "forgot" to charge it for a few days (ahem) and last night after about a half hour of play the battery died.  "Mom, can you plug this in for me?"  Why certainly, son, but now what?  And instead of asking to watch TV or play the Wii my delightful little baby boy said to me, "Mom, can we play Lego Ninjago?"  And after we defeated the purple bad guy, he said, "and now, mom, can we play Skip-Bo?"  And delightedly I said yes.  After we finished with our fun and games, I looked at the clock, and saw that it was 45 minutes past his bed-time.

Well played, young man, well played.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

my so-called ex-life

On September 11, 2007 my divorce was final, just shy of making it to four years.  I was reading another blogger today (Rubber Chicken Madness, btw) who was revisiting her decision to divorce, and acknowledging that it was the right decision for her and it made me think:  was divorce the right decision for me?

I will admit, had I stayed married, my depression more likely than not would have gotten so bad that I would not have been an effective parent.  In fact, I'd probably be dead.  Or he'd be dead and I'd be in jail (I jest).  Suffice it to say I don't regret filing for divorce and kicking him out.  But that is not what this post is about.

I do not co-parent well at all.  Granted, my ex isn't all that great at it either.  But the question at the forefront of my mind is why, after all these years, does he still piss me off so much?  All it takes is one snarky email, one line in said email, that will send me over the roof and bother me for days?  Why is it so bothersome to me that he has to have the last word?  Or always be "right"? 

Does anyone have the answer for me?  How can I just let my ex-husband's words just roll of my back?  Inquiring minds would love to know!

Thursday, January 5, 2012

The curse of the Nintendo DS

All my son asked for from Santa this year was a Nintendo 3DS and an X-Box 360.  I say "all" like this is inconsequential, but he literally only asked for these two items.  He's 6 and doesn't really get the concept of "several hundred dollars" when Santa's elves are making the crap in their workshop, thereby eliminating my "mommy doesn't have any money" defense.  So I told my sweet cherub that if Santa asked I would tell him that he was not allowed to give him an X-box because he was not old enough, we have a Wii, and he doesn't need more time gaming.  But the DS, that I could live with.  Famous Last Words.

A bit of a back-story here:  I have only allowed R to have LeapFrog electronic toys.  He has a Leapster and a Didj, and a handful of math and spelling games to go with said hand-helds.  And until this year, he was fine with those toys.  This year's plan was to have Santa bring him the LeapPad.  But then he looked at me with those big blue eyes and said, "but mommy, I want games that don't make me do math or read."  So I acquiesced and "allowed Santa" to bring him the DS on Christmas morning.

Since the day after Christmas, I have had to take that G...D... effen thing away from him constantly because he becomes obsessed to the point where he doesn't do what he is supposed to do around the house. Or listen to me. OMG, so freaking frustrated.  But today, today my friends, I hit my limit.  First he wouldn't get dressed (cartoons made him comatose and unable to dress himself apparently).  So after telling him a dozen or more times to get dressed over a 30 minute time frame, he's dressed.  Then I finally get him into the car and he has his DS in his hand.  We go to school, he gets out of the car, no backpack.  Where's your backpack R?  I don't know, I couldn't find it.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????  So busy was he playing Madden Football that he forgot his backpack.  So back in the car we go, drive home, I calm the dogs down AGAIN, put his DS on top of the fridge, grabbed his backpack, and got back in the car.  And that is when I unloaded on him big time (this is why I don't spank, I have absolutely no control).  My rant went something like this:
All you have to do in the morning is get dressed, brush your teeth, grab your backpack and get in the car.  You failed today to do even ONE of those things without me having to ask you a dozen times.  NOT ONE!  And all because of this DS.  From now on, consider the DS a library book.  You have to wait to use it until I have determined you have earned the right to play and it must be surrendered to me when I determine it is due.  In addition, since you obviously have forgotten how to get dressed and watch TV at the same time, the TV will remain off until you are COMPLETELY ready for school, down to hair and teeth being brushed. 

Oh yea, completely stellar mom-moment there.  I was so pissed off, and reading this, I'm thinking it is not so much the content, but rather the delivery of the message that I consider the mommy-fail.  But the kid threw his shirt at me and asked, "do you expect me to wear this jersey without a shirt underneath?"  Umm, yes, it's going to be 76 degrees today and you have a jacket in your backpack.  Wait, did you just THROW YOUR SHIRT AT ME?????"  So in a period of 40 minutes all of this occurred and I just flipped the shit out.

Sorry for the all-over-the-place post, but that's how I've felt all day after this cluster of a morning. 

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

My vow for 2012

If I had an "audience" who read this blog, I'd probably be more likely to actually blog.  However, journaling is supposedly cathartic, and should be for the unloading of emotional burdens and not to humor vast numbers of "followers" so I vow this:  I will put something up on this here little slice of the interweb on a weekly basis if not more often.  More likely than not I'll be slamming my ex, or telling you something disgusting the kid or the dogs did, and you'll think to yourself, "self, based on her life (or lack thereof) yours really isn't all that sucktastic."  And that will be my gift to you, my non-existent readership.  You are welcome.

So if there is anyone who stumbles across this here little blog o'mine, riddle me this:  boy you were in LOVE with in junior high finds you on FB, tells you his marriage is over, and wonders if we could you know, "rekindle" what we had (you know, hand holding with sweaty palms under the bleachers at football games).........do you do it, or not? Remember you are single and haven't had sex in a year--I think that's a relevant fact to be considered.....you don't want your lady-bits drying up and blowing away, do you?

Happy New Year!