Tuesday, December 8, 2009

My life (or, Cruel and Usual Punishment)

Tonight we'll begin with a Freudian slip. I would have been back online even earlier, had I not wasted precious time entering over and over, "mymommyneedssometimeoff" instead of "mymommyneedsatimeout." I feel like a total ass.

Friday night, my modem died. It just withered (like my FarmVille crops since) and died. I called ClearWire immediately. This is our third modem in less than a year. This is however, the first one that died over the weekend, so an overnight replacement wasn't an option. Five days people, five days I went without an internet connection. Aack! My sanity can totally not take this shit.

The subject of my sanity leads me to talk about my toddler. Holy crap, that kid is kicking my ass. Saturday morning I was getting the kids ready to go see Santa. Hercules hit my oldest daughter in the face with my hair dryer. She ended up with a cut under her eye and ice eventually brought down the swelling. When I showed him her eye he said, "wowie, wow, wow. That sure is a beautiful wound Jelly Bean!" When my daughter explained that it hurt her, he asked if she had fallen on rocks to get the cut. She told him that he had given her the cut when he hit her with the hair dryer. Then he asked my daughter, "why did I do that again?" In a separate post, I will show our last Christmas picture, our Easter picture, and this year's photo for comparison. Fun times, fun times.

When we finally made it to the mall, we had to stand in line for over an hour to see Santa (made possible by our sponsor, The Sandman) and when we finally made it up on stage, the baby was still fast asleep, The Little Lady was terrified of Santa, and Hercules was in an 'all out' state of tantrum. We hustled off the stage after taking an awful picture to remember the misery magic of this special holiday season by.

Hercules was already freaking out, so I paid no attention to his continued screams of, "bubblegum tree" until we experienced further meltdown in the Food Court. He was completely inconsolable until we gave up and retraced our steps to find the "bubblegum tree" that he was talking about. We tried about 10 bubblegum machines until we found the one. Once Hercules was pacified, we went back to the food court. Where we were enjoying dinner, until Hercules ducked under the table and made a break for it. Mall security had to get involved, and eventually, and blessedly he was found. Seconds people, fractions of seconds, was all it took.

Sunday, we went to the farmer's market where I buy our soap and my dogs' treats. They had Christmas trees there. I was impressed by the size of the tree for the price and so we bought one. It rode home with us, sandwiched lengthwise in the middle of my truck. After buying THREE, tree stands trying to find one small enough to hold the trunk, I realized something. I bought one of those evergreen bushes that people have at the end of their driveways. Yep. That's right. I suck so bad, and we have a six foot tall Christmas Bush to prove it. Fuck me.

Sunday night, my three year old woke up after the rest of us were sleeping and decorated the tree for us. He strung lights, hung ornaments, and dumped the contents of every single box in our storage closet trying to find the Christmas ones. Imagine my pleasure at my [17 month old] daughter's 2 a.m. feeding to find what my little elf had done.

My oldest son stayed home from school on Friday with a tic. The tic has progressively worsened over the weekend until present. He nods involuntarily several times a minute. He has been home from school since Friday, with no end in sight, unless of course you count the first available appointment with a neurologist in two months. What the bloody hell we are going to do until then, I know not.

My middle daughter has given up sleep, and her new favorite hobby is waking up her baby sister so that I am a sleep deprived, overly emotional mess. Yuck! I haven't even the energy to tell myself to, Suck it up Bitch!" It has been a seriously crappy few days. (We have apparently been dropped by our sponsor do to not fulfilling our contract, in reference to our obligation to be good role models.)

We had to go back to the mall today in order to have my son's DS fixed. My three year old made two attempts at running away. The first was on the way in. He jumped out of my truck with his carseat still attached and ran for the fire escape. Fortunately, the seat (which he must have unbuckled) slowed him down and we were able to catch him. The second was on the way back to the car. I put him in the truck, but, was trying to switch out the seat he sits in, so that I could use the floor latch. He opened the driver's side door and made a run for the elevator while I swore and fiddled with the seat. I had the distinct privilege to run down two flights of stairs to catch him before the elevator door opened on the ground floor.

On Tuesdays, my oldest daughter tutors. We were at the cafe waiting for her when my son jumped out of the cart he was strapped in and made another escape attempt. A sales associate caught him as I chased him down. Fun!!! Really flipping fun.

I am so tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally. I feel like I am being held prisoner by my three year old. I am afraid to leave the house with him, and yet, I'm afraid of what he'll do if I don't get him out of the house to run off some of his energy. I wonder how we wound up here. I wonder what method of discipline will ever get through to him. I wonder if I'll ever get to have five consecutive hours of sleep again.

I think that's about all folks. Time for me to head over to FarmVille and plant some crops.


  1. This isn't a discipline issue. He literally cannot control himself is my guess. You're so tired, it's hard for you to see that. Please don't blame yourself.

    And, somehow, you have to raise hell with the doctor's office. I belong to an HMO, and no way would I have to wait 2 months to see a specialist with the condition your son has. That could be something serious.

  2. I agree with S.C. Don't be hard on yourself. Take it out on the doctor's office or your insurance provider and get yourself a closer appointment.

    I wish I could email you a bottle of wine, some Harry and David's dark chocolate Moose Munch Crunch (my wife's favorite), and a babysitter Viv. You'll have to settle for good vibes and best wishes and being in our thoughts and all that other crap. Maybe you can get one of those giant hamster balls like they used to have on American Gladiators and put Hercules in that for a couple hours a day.

  3. My son Owen sounds similar to Hercules. He just turned four though and constantly runs away anytime we are in public. Last spring he actually was knicked by a car while we were picking up my oldest daughter. He outweighs and is as tall as most of the first graders in my daughter's class. People look at him like he's their age too, and expect him to behave in that age category as well.---Greta

  4. Held hostage by a 3 year old....how do you feel about straight jackets, duct tape and dog harnesses?

    Have we tortured every teenager in a 5 mile radius who has a "babysitting service"?

    your husband isn't around much, we could probably get you enrolled in one of those "big brother, big sister" programs where they have to take your kid for a few hours and like "mentor" him...of course we'll have to fudge some things to make them think you are a single mom...but honestly, essentially...when the hubby is away, you ARE! So it's not "really" lying, more like just sliding under the radar on a technicality.

    Hang in there sweetie....I'm rooting for you....


  5. So, this might be a stupid question, but has Herc been evaluated so that you can get some outside help or maybe get him into a special needs preschool?
    You need help with this kiddo, it's sounds like it's not something that he can control. I know plenty of families who have huge locks on their doors and GPS systems on their kids, because it is just so scary and like you said happens too damn fast.
    I wish you beer and babysitters as well, but more than anything I hope that things chill with the big guy!
    Hang in there.

  6. Gosh, ugh, Viv I just want to come hug you and bring a bottle of wine.

    I agree with the others in that there has to be some services out there that can help you. Years ago I remember there was a service that the local health agency or maybe it was the local united way, I can't remember. But they set up single parents who had children with behavioral issues with a local foster parent. Then that foster parent would provide what they called "respite" for the parent. It might be an afternoon, an evening or even a full weekend.

    I'm not saying that's an answer because I believe that was through the Department of Children now that I think about it. However, I know there are other services out there that can help you.

    I also agree with raising hell with your Dr for the neurology appointment. Of course the other thing is it may be stress related. If you are feeling this stressed you know your kids could be feeling some of it too.

    Good luck, prayers are with you.