Monday, September 21, 2015

Parade of Hell, otherwise known as the Parent Drop Off Zone

   At the school I drop my kids off each morning there are three areas for parents to drop off their kids.  The kindergarten drop off was the worst.  The first year after Kinder I snuck over to the 3rd grade side.  Those Kinder parents are nuts.  Full of emotions and chaos.  Kids climbing out the wrong side of the door, making a run back into the car if no one is paying attention, parents screaming directions out the windows and lets not forget about the parent who has to park and assist with every jacket/hat/backpack....for all four kids.  While I'm parked behind her.  Giving her death glares because my kid is at lunch already I've been there so long.

                                                 Image result for angry mom drop off zone meme

   Okay...maybe not lunch, maybe I exaggerate.  There is a man who cut me off so many times that every time I see him at a school function I stop short in front of him because....well because I'm like that.   I know I sound kind of shitty but please bare in mind that it's 7:40, I've had only one cup of coffee and likely I screamed like a banshee to get my kids out of the house so I could pull into the parade of hell, otherwise known as the Parent Drop Off Zone.

   Well I hoped the Third Grade drop off would be better, I was wrong.  This morning was no different.  The 3rd grade area is a little different, it's actually a bus drop off area AND a parent drop off area.  Two different areas clearly marked by the painted curb, the letters sent home by the principal at the beginning of the year and third by common sense of your SUV idling by the side of the curb and the BIG ASS BUS in your rear view mirror honking.  At you!   See the bus drop off area is right next to the school gate and is big enough to park three buses.  Then the parent drop off area begins.  The rules are simple; pull up to the parent drop off area, let your kid out and leave.  Now it also means that you pull up behind the car already parked in the parent drop off area.  This morning I worked my way to the front and parked to let my kids out.  Two buses were parked in front of me.  Just as I'm about to pull into oncoming traffic...oh look it's Super Mom in her minivan!  She stealthy pulls right in front of me (not in the parent zone but the bus zone).  Why....because her kid is entitled.  Her kid should not be forced to walk the 8 extra feet to get to school.  Her kid doesn't have to wait in three car line as the other kids have to.  Her kid is special.  Clearly more special than mine.  She should be allowed to drop her kids off wherever the hell she wants too and screw the rest of us. 

Am I a little impassioned about this? Hell yes. Is it justified? Hell yeas.  I hear constantly about our kids being "too entitled" blah blah blah....!  You now why....because of Moms like this.  Follow the rules, how about that?  Make your kid walk the 8 extra feet, how about that?  Don't carry your kids backpack for them while they walk to school, how about that?  Make your kid learn to be responsible for his actions because he saw his parents do it, how about that?

   Needless to say the Third Grade Drop Off Zone isn't going well.  I no longer have hopes that the 5th grade side is any better.  I've considered adding bull horns and bazooka to the top of my car.  Neither will get me better gas mileage though.  So I will have to start dropping my kid off around the corner.  That way they can walk to school, like I did.  Appreciate the exercise and maybe save their Mother from having to get anti-anxiety meds just for school drop off zone.

Friday, September 4, 2015

I Was Wrong

   As a single mother with the task of raising two boys I told myself I could be all that they needed. Granted my boys do get to see their father.  I told myself that weekend contact with their father was enough for two growing boys.  I was wrong.  I underestimated the impact a man has on boys when he is living under the same roof.  I didn’t make the decision to live with a man easily.  I know people who have moved their children from boyfriend to boyfriend’s house and I know the impact can be devastating.  I told myself if I was just worked harder and taught independence it would all work out.  So when I moved in with my boyfriend I didn’t give much thought to the impact I would see.  My own parents were divorced and I knew firsthand the struggle a kid can have with a step parent.  My expectation lay only in that they be respectful and be friends.  Even a friendship I knew could waiver but a level of respect was important. 

Last night my eleven year old son ran downstairs when my boyfriend came home from work, anxious to show him the final step in his braces had happened that day.  I was stunned.  He was exuberant and prideful and wanted to share his news with my boyfriend.  I loved seeing it.  My eleven year old has felt the impact of my divorce the most.  He craved a “house” to live in but I think what he craved even more was a family to have in that house.  Sure we were a family in my apartment but to him it felt like something was missing.  This house, even though it is someone else’s with new people in it, feels more settled and more like a home. 

I watch my boyfriend and I can see the impact he has.  He doesn’t allow whining and says so but does it in a way that the kids know it’s because the behavior is unacceptable and boys don’t behave like that.  He has rules and most come from the same rules his father set forth to him but he passes those down and my kids respond and listen and follow them.  We both know they won’t always and we know the teen years are closer than we care to admit too.  But these rules, this life is being laid out for them.  It’s an expectation of respect, trust, interest in them as people, and fun.  Although as a mother I give that to them, my boyfriend gives it to them differently and it was exactly what they were looking for.  

Monday, July 27, 2015

When Blending Becomes Chopping

"Blending A Family"

I love this phrase.  Such an idealic scene ensues.  A woman baking away in a kitchen with an apron wrapped around her waist.  Her man standing by with a supportive arm around her shoulders and little children gathered around while she gently stirs the goodies in the bowl.

Blending a Family is probably the furthest thing from that image.  I've done a bit of research and no one is talking about it. You know why.....because no one is blending!

We are chopping. Grating. Grinding!!  I admit, "We Are Chopping Our Family" isn't as quite a socially acceptable phrase.

Have you ever baked bread?  You mix a few ingredients together, add the yeast place a towel over the bowl and let it rise.  All that gooey goodness warming and rising.  Several hours later when that beautiful round ball is ready we peel back the towel and beat it into submission.  That is what blending a family is like!!

Some days mixing his and mine are easy, idyllic.  Other days we feel a little war torn and exhausted by the end of the day. The hurtles are real and blind side us usually at the dinner table.  Some days require a bit more mingling, others require a bit more fusing of the ingredients and some days you need to throw out the whole bowl and start all over again the next day.  

Everyday is different.  
Every moment is real.  
Every opportunity is great and I wouldn't miss a minute of it even if I could.  

Friday, July 10, 2015

Conversation Between Boys

Conversations In My Car

Xman: The most funny thing happened. Do you want to hear?  Our new dog was playing with the other dog and she sniffed her in the vageenie.  I mean vagina.

BB: The what?

Xman: You know girl private parts.

BB: Oh.  Where is that?

Xman: Just below the waist.

BB: In the belly button? That’s weird

XMan: Well that’s what a girl has and a boy has the other word.  You know it starts with a “P”.  Don’t make me spell it.

Xman: “P” you know it right?

Xman: “P” “E”, I am not gonna spell the whole word.

Xman: “P” “E” “N”…don’t make me spell the rest.  I won’t do it. 

Xman: “P” “E” “N” “I”…..I can’t tell you the last letter.

BB: What letter is it?

Xman: “S”

Me: (Why do these conversation happen when Mr. B is not around!)

Monday, June 15, 2015

Overheard In The House

The Nightly Battle

Adult: Go brush your teeth, its time for bed.
7 yr old: I am.

5 minutes pass

Adult: I said go brush your teeth
7 yr old: Okay! I am going.

5 minutes pass

Adult: Brush your teeth now.  Do you want me to show you pictures of what your teeth will look like if you don't brush them?
7 yr old: So you want to punish me by showing me nightmarish pictures?

.....having smart kids sucks sometimes.

Kids: 1
Adults: 0

Monday, June 1, 2015

"Here's A Story...."

Here's a story,
Of a lovely lady,
Who was bringing up two very handsome boys.
All of them had hair the color of mocha,
Like their mother --
The youngest one had a faux hawk.

Here's a story,
Of a man named Mr. B,
Who was bringing up one very handsome boy of his own.
There were two men and a cat,
Living all together,
Yet they were all, alone.

Till the one day when the lady met this fellow,
And they knew it was much more than a hunch,
That this group might somehow form a wild, crazy, zany boy-filled family.
That's the way we all became this CRAZY bunch!

So my blog continues with tales of my life........surrounded by boys.  
And our village
And me Wishing for Wisdom!

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

What Not To Say To A Parent at the End of a School Year

What Not To Say To A Parent At The End of a School Year

1. "New Project Due this week."  Please design an exact replica of the White House built entirely out of recycled toothpicks you collectively got from no less than 30 restaurants around town.  Also attach a 5 page document outlining the steps you took to create your house written entirely in your own blood and sweat and tears!!!

2. "Please send in ________ for school tomorrow."  Anything more than "your child" is entirely too much!  I don't have anymore money for gifts, birthday presents or class auctions.  I have no more money left for fundraising, with only 12 days left of the year doesn't raising money seem rather...moot?

3. Fucking Glue Sticks!!!

4. A field trip form asking the same information about Insurance and Emergency phone calls as the last 6 I sent in this year.  Make a copy!

5. Lunch money.  Sweet jesus....the well is tapped dry people.  Let the kid have lunch for free as a celebratory gift for making it through the year eating school lunches.  "Great job on 8 months of successfully eating questionable school lunches, here's a few on us to show our appreciation."  Its clearly time to clean out the cupboard at school...right?!

6. "Could you.....?" No!!  Do you not see the singed hair on my head?  The crazy look on my face?  One eyeball rolling the opposite direction when one of my kids starts talking?  Do you notice that I'm not longer wearing matching clothes and my kids hair hasn't been brushed in a month?  Stop talking!!

7. .....Anything!!
At this point in the game as a parent we are standing on the ledge.  Fourteen school projects are due this month, 3 book reports, 2 collages, 1 animal mask and a cool item kids would want to bid on to buy.  Sanity......can you put a price on my Sanity?  I don't think the entire 5th grade class has enough cash to buy my sanity back.  Lets not forget the highly suggested extra curricular activity strongly recommended for our kids that I'm driving too twice a week.  I've worked out dinner on the go but my "project preparation" in the back of a Honda Civic is proving difficult.

It's May 5 and I'm done.  The kids are done.  Hell, the teachers are done.  Which why I suspect every "home project" is due this month because they are tired too.  So lets call a spade a spade and do like we used to.  Roll that big TV and VCR into the classroom, turn out the lights and hit play.