I Don’t Know

I don’t know what to call this post. It’s probably going to be a rambling of wild, insane things.

Or it will be a lot of vague-blogging. Is that even a thing? I blissfully deactivated my facebook account, so I can’t vaguebook anymore.

The boys.

They’re growing like weeds. Kindergarten & third grade & IEPs & Bulldog Bucks & awards for being respectful & homework battles & “What do you MEAN you left your papers at school again?!” That’s what our year has been. They’re finally in the same school, which is a major plus for this mama. I like where they are. They like where they are. We all like their teachers. It’s a change for Butter because he’d been in the gifted program for a few years, but now. Now he’s doing so much better. His handwriting could still use a little work, but whatever. I’ll gladly take that battle over dealing with teachers who seemed to want to pretend they cared, but didn’t at all.

They’re fighting like brothers. [Duh.] This morning I had to remind them that we don’t threaten to pee on our brother’s head & no, I don’t care that it’s because he wouldn’t let you play with the multitude of Legos on his bed.

We’re planning birthday parties & trips to Pittsburgh to see Mommy’s home city & lots of other things. All in the next few weeks, because our summers don’t look like most people’s. We are a food truck family.

There are a thousand other things I want to discuss, but can’t. Because they’re not public knowledge yet & frankly they’re not really for public consumption. There are things I want help with, but I’m too afraid, too introverted, too . . . something to ask for it. So I’ll keep plugging along. Like I always do. Like the good little worker bee I am.20161106_025


I Think I’m Ready.

I think I’m ready to step back into the world of blogging.

I know terribly few people care about what I have to say, but I don’t think it matters. I use this as a way to chronicle my kids’ lives.

They start school again in a couple of weeks. I’m going to start going batty again in a couple of weeks. I really should take them out to get things like backpacks & school supplies, but I don’t want to. I want to live in denial for a little longer.

The Time I Learned to Breathe

“Mommy? Can you hook up a monitor to this computer so I can use it?”

I looked at the pile of work around me on the only day I’m in this particular office & told Butter that no, I couldn’t. I thought I had to take the monitor off of my computer & I had no idea where my new one was & besides that we didn’t have any cables, so I told him I didn’t have time to search for things.

He seemed fine. He went back upstairs to watch the Olympics, leaving me to work in peace.

For five minutes.

Then he came downstairs & told me he knew where the cables were & was going to go get them. I told him no. I had an epic pile of stuff to do & I knew he wouldn’t let up. When Butter gets focused on something, he is FOCUSED. Things done right away aren’t being done quickly enough. That was when I burst into tears.

I love working a flexible job. I love having my kids here with me when I’m working. I don’t particularly love that they seem to think all of Mommy’s attention needs to be on them. All of it. They’re constantly asking me to play with them, completely oblivious to the piles of paper that surround me & how much I have to do.

I reached a breaking point. I reached out to a couple of friends & told them how frustrated I was. I told them I was sobbing because I know. I know I’m too hard on Butter & I don’t want to be. I want to have more patience with him. I want to be there for him when he needs me. I want to be the fun Mommy, not the Mommy who just yells & says no all the time.

The advice was to breathe & give myself a time out before making any decisions.

So I did.

I took a breath.

And then, I made a decision.

This work will be here tomorrow. It can be done tomorrow with little consequence except my energy level. But that’s what coffee is for anyway, right? So I took time. I watched from my desk as he got his computer set up with some help from a friend & learned what’s missing. We need some cable or another & then he’ll be on his way to coding with the best of them. 

I can come back & get the work done tomorrow. I won’t ever have that time back with my son.

I’m trying, Butter.