Can we pretend that I am the kind of Mom that is together enough to get or make presents for T’s teachers? Thanks, I needed that. I feel fictional awesome now.
His last day of school for the semester is tomorrow. Because his preschool is a lab for undergrad and grad students it starts the week after the semester begins and ends the week before exams. A couple of weeks ago I told myself to do something about gifts for the end of the semester. And I earnestly answered myself “Yes! This time things would be different and I will do something!” But there are so many teachers and so many student teachers and I suck. So…nada.
Also, I have no idea what I’m going to do with T next week. He needs school and structure to burn off his endless energy. Even with school he is a destructive tasmanian devil. This morning I was in the kitchen and I heard banging upstairs. I assumed he was in his room. He bangs on shit all the time. His brother was in the living room so I knew that he wasn’t banging on C so what kind of trouble could he be in?
Um, he could be using a wooden block to pound a hole in the plaster wall.
Who does that? How could he think I would not totally freak out when I saw it? And you know what? I walked right by it, didn’t even notice. He pointed it out to me. At which point I did, in fact, freak.
It made me feel like a complete failure at this Mom business. If he is a little turd doesn’t it stand to reason that I’m raising a little turd? He is my job. And I am sucking. I want him to be a kind and productive member of society. Am I not modeling that behavior? I certainly don’t pound holes in the walls of our home. Ok, the house is a fucking wreck. We are filthy slobs. Is that why he thinks it is cool to destroy things? I just don’t know. What I do know is I’m every bit as frustrated at myself as I am at him. I’m his primary care giver. If he isn’t behaving in a way that I find acceptable it is a reflection on me.
Ok. I fully realize I am reveling in an extravagant pity party right now. I’ve got another fucking cold. And I’m a baby when I’m sick. I am a gross, grumpy, resentful pile of pissed off mess who desperately misses being able to call in sick for work.
How about a small bit of positivity? My last class of the semester was yesterday and it was not a disaster
. The practical exam was pretty darn cool. We drew numbers and had to pick a vegetable in order from our CSA basket
. Then we were assigned a protein and a starch and we had to make a meal with those components plus a marinade for the protein. The professors tasted the meal and we were graded out of 200 points. I won’t bore you with the details, but I got 200. And it felt fucking awesome. Unless I totally screwed up the assignment due last week I think I got an A in the class. And damn it, I’m proud of myself.
This kid is lucky he’s so cute. Otherwise he’d be looking for a new home right about now.
Looks like we are in for more of the same behavior with this nut job.
The most patient cat in the universe gets a hug.