DOES NOT COMPUTE! DOES NOT COMPUTE!

Let me start by saying that no one parents exactly like I do.  That is probably good.  Honestly, I probably fuck up from time to time.  All that said, even with my ego - I'm pretty damn good as a parent.  No lie.  But in the last 24 hours or so I realized that I REALLY  look at parenting different than some people.

My view is pretty basic really; get these little humanoids ready for life on their own.  That is pretty much it.  Life on their own, don't kill 'em first.  Yep, that is it.  Emphasis on the first of course.  So, with that in mind (that and the fact that I have seven of these small humanoid forms... ok, some aren't so small anymore...) they are expected to show some independence pretty early on. 

I was seriously challenged over last night and early this morning to realize that my parenting is THAT far off from some.  Yes, we had overnighters.  My son's overnighter.  No problems.  Didn't even really know the kid was here.  He fit in like the second son I didn't get to have.  Son had a great time.  Yeah, son! (yes, they have been watching Suite Life reruns during these HOT days... sadly) 

My newly turned 8yr old daughter's overnighter however... WOW!  She ran the gamut! Rude, check.  Disrespectful, check.  Played exclusion games with siblings, check (including shutting one out of her own room and locking the same one out of the house).  TOTALLY FUCKING CLUELESS, check, Check, and DOUBLE FUCKING CHECK.  She was seriously stressing my self constraint levels - unwittingly, of course.  From asking when we would have ice cream, SIX FUCKING TIMES.  The first when others were still eating dinner!  (The best part is when I served the ice cream she didn't even eat it) Then to tattling that the four year old hit her with a balloon and it "hurt!"  REALLY?!? Weird, fucking shit! Um, I mean, "Is there blood? No? Ok, you're not hurt then."  To the creme-de-la-creme, being totally and completely helpless. 

Ok, maybe I am a bit extreme...

The girl didn't take her empty plate or bowl to the sink except this morning when prompted 3x to "Please take care of your bowl."  Despite being told where to find the glasses and the water, she didn't seem capable of getting herself a glass of water.  The same holds true with breakfast.  Really?   Here are the bowls, here is the cereal AND you just watched my four year old, you know some one who is HALF YOUR FUCKING AGE get herself a bowl of cereal and you are still staring dumbfounded... really? 

My screen went blank, like the early Windows blue screen - DOES NOT COMPUTE, DOES NOT COMPUTE... WINDOWS IS SHUTTING DOWN, WINDOWS IS SHUTTING DOWN! (slowly, and painfully, of course)

Do these parents really think they are doing themselves any favors by doing everything for her?!?  Um, one, they are doing everything and two, WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE GOING TO DO WHEN SHE GETS OUT ON HER OWN? 

Yeah, yeah.  Ya all think that I've gone a little ape shit batty over a minor thing.  Maybe.  But I can tell ya - my kids can get their own breakfast at 4, do their own laundry at 10 (or earlier) and will do just fine in college without momma there to hold their hand.  My kiddos are gonna be heads and shoulders over most and leave 'em eating their dust.  My kiddos are smart, they are thinkers, and they can fend for themselves!  How-a-bout yours?

From mice to frogs

My son's dear darling kitty came into the living room meowing.  Meowing in itself is not unusual for this cat.  It is ALWAYS meowing for something.  Damn whiner.  But this was that meow.  The one where you know she has a critter in her mouth. 

She stops about a yard from me and proudly drops a frog.  Um, good kitty?  The frog was little, not more than 3 inches including stretched out legs.  He resembled a small version of the frog you disected in 9th grade biology.  Including being on his back all spread eagle, except he did not smell of chemicals - thankfully.

Hubby was of course at work.  So I found a couple paper napkins and dropped them on the little green guy.  I squatted down to pick it up and that's when it happened... the little fucker MOVED!  I squealed "FUCKITSALIVE!" (yes it came out as one word) as my two youngest looked on. 

Now I was faced with the dilemma of how to rid my house of this near death kermit while not touching it.  I finally decided on using the above mentioned napkins and a plastic lid to a food container.  I mangaged to get kermit on the lid and ran him outside to very unceremoniously drop him, the lid and the napkins in the strawberry patch.  And there the lid remains.  My brother-in-law attempted to reason with me that I could just wash the lid.  Does he really not know how I work?  If I know it has been used on dead or near dead animals it is now useless to me and it will find it's way to the garbage. 

People like me should not read Inkheart before going to bed

This is more about me than the book - way more.  The book is very good, better than the movie.  Of course that is no surprise. 

But you see I am crazy - not the good kind - well I am good crazy but that is not the crazy I am talking about.  I am crazy, coocoo, looneytunes - possibly shut me away and drug me out, kinda crazy.

I see things in the night, I hear voices too but we'll save that for another time.  This has gone on for a long time.  As a kid I could convince myself that the things I saw were shadows dancing on the walls when a car drove by, or the cracks in the wall playing tricks on my eyes.  And maybe they were then.  But ever since the imaginary spider that was as big as my head, well, it was just too real, even in my fully awake state.  I don't get many visits from spiders anymore, but floating images above my bed - (they have the presence of a person but look more like a glowing blob of mist) bugs climbing out of the walls- beckoning me to follow them, images like wooden replicas of ships that are supposed to call to mind something I have forgotten.  That is really the feeling most of these visits share - that I have forgotten something and it is critical that I remember it.  My most recent visit were glowing lights in the wall telling me to protect my shoes and put them in the bathtub.  Guess where I found my shoes the next morning...

Anyway, now that you have gotten a glimpse into my own personal form of dementia, onto why I shouldn't have been reading the book before bed.  First, for those not familiar with the story, it is about a guy who can pull parts of the story out of the book when he reads aloud.  So, he has pulled (quite by accident) a few guys out of a story and when that happened, his wife was pulled into the story.  Really that is all you need to know about the book I read before bed.  I was sleeping and felt a great sucking/whooshing along my back.  I felt I was getting pulled into another time or place. 

There ya are, a glimpse into the private crazies of me - that I've never really shared with anyone before.

6 year old proof that I'm getting some things right

I just love when I see proof that I'm getting through to my kids!  Around here we are pretty safety conscience.  Mainly about those things that could choke, strangle or suffocate you if the proper attention is not being paid.  Probably the item I think that is most overlooked as a danger by most parents is the balloon.  You see these bad boys could be sucked into your throat and cover the windpipe.  They create such suction that it requires emergency surgery to remove it -- IF you can get to the hospital quickly enough.  My spouse and I are quite dilegent about balloons that find their way into our home, or our "watch."  Yes, I have upset a nephew by telling him that he had to stop blowing up the balloon only to let it go so it would fly around the room and do it all over.  Yes we were at his house, but I was THE adult there and NO WAY can he continue that game when I am the only adult to 12 kids.  Play that game on YOUR parents time. ;-) 

Anyway, back to the proof that I'm getting through... we were at the beach last weekend.  My 6 year old had decided she didn't want to swim and had not brought her suit.  She was standing near me with just her feet in the water.  Another group had small balloons that they were playing with.  Some child popped a balloon and left the pieces laying in the lake.  My daughter picks up the pieces and yells (and if you know my 6yr old you know she has NO SHORTAGE of lung capacity.) "Hey! Don't pop the balloons.  Don't you know that is a choke hazzard?"  My pride swelled like a balloon in that moment. :)  So proud of my girl!

How much pressure to pop a balloon

Science Fair Project

(dispite her look, the balloon got a good bit bigger before bursting)

I think I'll be scarred for life

So last night I let Shaggy the Roomba loose on our living room.  A vacuuming was desperately needed.  Shaggy was doing his job, minding his own business when he started beeping like a mad man and yelling "ERROR! ERROR!"  I finally figured out that between the beeps and errors he was telling me "Bitch, clean out my wheels!"  Ok.  I turned him over and immediately spotted the problem.  A twig was projecting from his right wheel.  I started to pull on it and realized that it was not a twig, it was a (are you sure you're ready for this, cuz it still curls my tummy to think about it...) LIMB OF A DEAD MOUSE!  Yes, you read that right.  A leg and paw of a dead mouse was sticking out of the wheel housing and I JUST TOUCHED IT WITH MY BARE HANDS!

 I screamed.  It sounded a little opera-ish.  I think my 9yr old got screwed on her science fair project - it seems I CAN hit higher notes than previously thought.  Sorry girl, you still got and A - and you teacher may never know that I can get an octave higher than was recorded.

The hubster and kids hollered "What?"  But I couldn't formulate an answer.  I just sat there stairing at Shaggy upside down and rocking, rocking, rocking, rocking... 

Eventually some kids crept cautiously into the room.  I could only point.  "Eww, it's a mouse!"  Oh, thank the purple unicorn, someone stated the problem - maybe I can speak now.  "Yes, please get dad to remove it."  Dad at least did not have to touch the thing bare handed.  I gave him a rag.  Then I spent 15 minutes scrubbing my hands in hot, soapy water.

Those of you considering a quaint older home in the country.... think again!  We constantly have mice (even with two active hunting cats).  Other animals previously found in our home, uninvited: a family of chipmunks, a 4ft(ish) snake, 2 birds, crawdads (or are they crayfish? - who the fuck cares, they don't belong in my house!) 

For your viewing pleasure, an oldie, but goodie of child 5 during our homestead battle with the Chipmunks.  To quote her "I get 'em, mommy! I get 'em."

REVOKED: 1 scary mom card

I guess my being a card-carrying member of the "Scary Mom Club" was tenuous at best.  But the sucker has officially been REVOKED.  When you are inches from your daughter's face yelling at her, nigh, daring her to roll her eyes at you again when you are talking ...

and she bursts out laughing - it is a pretty clear indication that the fine thread holding your SMC card has been severed.  To add insult to injury the older daughter was laughing and saying "You're NOT scary mom!" 

Really? I was scared of my mom for a really long time, I mean I was like 10 when I quit bein' terrified of her - oh, my daughter IS nearly 10.  How'd that happen?!?

My association with SMC has been a slippery slope all along.  I have always wanted my kids to feel like they can come to me about anything - but if they are scared of me, they won't come to me... Yah, see how it can easily be revoked?  A few compassionate moments and WHOOSH gone.

"That's ok. I-I-I didn't want it anyway, but you know, sometimes I'm a liar."

A sea of genius - not always an awesome place to be

Ok, I admit it.  I frequently feel a little outta place in my own home.  Hubby is a freakin genius and our kids show tendencies toward geniushood as well.  We are at the point that I really can NOT help my older two with their math unless they bring their books home - and I did well in math.  I just haven't used anything past the basics in so long.  Then enters my third child...

She is smart.  Well above average smart.  She just isn't quite to the level that her older sister and brother were at her age.  Our school district has a gifted and talented program that is AWESOME! Oldest did it, second oldest is doing it.... she passed round one of testing and did well on round two, 80ish percentile.  She was not accepted into the program.  That is ok.  I told her of the decision, she said she wanted to appeal. 

Um, ok.  We started the process but I always felt "off" about it because I know deep down that she isn't ready for that program.  Today hubby realized it as well.  We talked to her.  Explained we would still support her appeal, if she chose, but that we felt she would be better served waiting a year and retesting.  We did this with her brother and it worked great.  She was very disappointed.  Crushed even.  I feel so bad for her.  Not only have both of her older siblings done this program, her twin cousins that are one week older than her, have both been accepted.  Yep, smart in a sea of genius.  I know she often feels she isn't smart - but it is a perception problem.  She is swimming in a small bay off the main ocean.