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More Like Dio-drama.

More Like Dio-drama.

Second grade is going to be the death of me.

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Leave the Hall Light On.

Leave the Hall Light On.

“MOM-my!” My eyes snapped open and I realized what I thought had been a cat meowing in a dream had actually been my son calling me. How many meows was it? At least two. I think. “MOMMY!” I jumped off the couch, found my glasses and looked at the time. Almost midnight. Next thing I knew, I was in his room and lightheaded from the sprint up the stairs and the sinus medication I had taken earlier. “What’s wrong?” “I need water.” He sounded so little, quite unlike the eight year old he actually turned into two weeks ago. I sighed and fetched the water. I held the tiny cup as he drank. “You need to start getting your own water,” I said. “You can do this yourself.” He stared at me wide-eyed but said nothing. I knew he would wake up and call me. I had turned off the big light in the hall. I’ve been leaving it on all night, every night, and changing the bulbs is a pain and we are using too much electricity and he was asleep so, this time, I turned it off. I should have known better, though, since every time he wakes up and it’s off, he calls out for me. What’s more important: household chores and finances or my sanity? I have no idea anymore. I never thought parenting would be easy, but I didn’t think about things like this. I didn’t expect to wonder about the level of normal we were at for every single thing that goes on in our lives. Is it normal to need water? Is it normal for him to not want to get it himself? To be afraid of the dark still? To rely on me so much? Even if I had the data to prove which percentile we were in for each matter related to child development, what would I do with the information? If I were to find out, for example, he’s in the 90th percentile for neediness, I’m not sure if that would help. After all, the best parenting advice I’ve ever heard was to parent the kid you have. As in, it doesn’t matter what everyone else says or does, this is the kid you have so this is the one you have to parent. Of course, I might only think it’s the best advice because it’s insinuating I’m not screwing the whole thing up. Most of the time though, I’m pretty sure I’m screwing the whole thing up. Delivering one small cup of water to a semi-conscious kid upon request will surely create lasting damage, at least that’s what I came up with when I examined my parenting strategy in the middle of the night. I decided, once I made it to my own bed, that first thing in the morning I would confront this child and find out why he cannot get his own water in the night. Then we can get to the root of the issue, address it, and I will have a completely autonomous 8 year old. The next morning, though, I learned he no recollection of the incident and so he couldn’t tell me why it happened. If he doesn’t know he’s doing it, how can he stop? That was his question for me. And it’s a good one. There are no answers or solutions. I can get the water or I can ignore him. It’s probably doesn’t matter. I’m sure it won’t be the last...
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Lunch Shamed

Lunch Shamed

A mother’s fear as she enters a new school year.

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Why I Won’t Cut The (Monitor) Cord.

Why I Won’t Cut The (Monitor) Cord....

I realized my eyes were closed and I didn’t remember the last page I had read, so it was obviously time for sleep. I got up, turned off the light, then crawled back into bed. The sleeping conditions were perfect: a cool breeze and complete exhaustion. I figured I’d be unconscious in five… four… three… two… Mmm-hmmm. No. Over there. Yes. {Unintelligible muttering} My eyes popped open. Out loud, to no one in particular, I said, “You have GOT to be effing kidding me.” It seemed Nathan had been partially awakened by the sound of the light switch or the mattress compressing under my weight and now he was talking in his sleep. His little outburst meant I was now once again wide awake. When he was a baby, the first sound of him stirring meant I needed to immediately stop whatever I was doing, even if that was just  blinking or breathing. If I could remain completely still, maybe he’d go back to sleep. It rarely worked. It seemed fitting though since the sound of him sighing was enough to wake me back then. He and I were stuck in a vicious cycle. The thing was, I’d have given anything to make it stop whereas he seemed to take some sort of sadistic infant pleasure from making sure I never slept more than two hours at a clip. But that was a long time ago and I am no longer so sleep-deprived that I believe my child is evil and deliberately trying to keep me awake. However, I think it’s fair to point out that often as I’m about to drift off, this kid starts to stir and his voice comes over the monitor and- Oh, did I fail to mention the monitor? Yes, so my kid is seven and a half and I still have a baby monitor. I’m aware that these are intended for babies, otherwise they’d be called child monitors or practically-a-tween monitors. I know hearing his every move is a big part of the reason I have trouble sleeping. Everyone has suggested that I turn the thing off. I have yet to find even one person on my side on this one, even with my very good excuses. He hasn’t had a night terror in months, but what if he has one tonight? Or like how my kid doesn’t get up if he needs me, he just calls me from his bed. So if he had a bad dream, or misses me, is too hot or too cold, or just needs to tell me how tired he is at 2am, there really isn’t any other way for me to know unless the monitor is on. This is for his safety, really. I don’t care what anyone says. I’m not a helicopter mom. So what if I still hold his hand until he falls asleep or I chaperon school events just so I can keep an eye on him? And maybe I still listen to him sleep and even use that monitor to spy on play dates when I can’t be in the room. None of this indicates a pattern of excessive hovering. He’s only seven. It’s not like he’s ten. That would be excessive. I’ll turn it off by ten. Twelve the latest. Definitely before college. I don’t need to sleep before then do I? And honestly, what’s there to worry about when he’s in college? Photo credit: ME! (This is a picture of our monitor...
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Emptying the House.

Emptying the House.

When Mommy starts going overboard.

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Sick Day – Part 2.

Sick Day – Part 2.

What do you get when you cross one very rundown woman with the byproducts of a six year old’s stomach virus? You get a very ill woman, that’s what. Happy Day After Thanksgiving everyone. This is NaBloPoMo Day 29. You can read more, and watch a fun video about the poop cycle, here.