The Queen's Rambles

I made a Weight Watchers friendly potato soup tonight. I was scared it would be terrible because my amazing potato soup recipe is so full of fat that it makes me sick (I haven’t made it in years) and this new recipe is pretty low in fat. Surprise, surprise! It was delicious! It was waaaaaay better than the fatty recipe–no one felt sick or guilty afterwards. Even Erik semi-enjoyed it.

He actually ate potatoes for the first time ever last night (not counting french fries). In the past he has claimed to hate all potatoes, so I was shocked when he scarfed them all down and said they were the most delicious things he ever ate (they were just roasted with a little olive oil and ranch dressing powder).

It was my mom’s birthday today so I talked to her for quite awhile on the phone. I haven’t talked to her for more than five minutes in a very long time. I just can’t handle her drama and dysfunction. I used to feel so sorry for her and so guilty that I wasn’t helping her have a better life, but I’ve given up on that. Now she just pisses me off. Why can’t she ever make a good choice? In 64 years of living I don’t know if she’s ever made a single good choice. Her excuse is always the same–“I didn’t know people wouldn’t do what they say they will do!” Really? Seriously? Of course people don’t do what they say they are going to do. People suck. Sadly, there are very, very few responsible people in the world.

She sold her house a few months ago with the idea that she was going to move into my grandma’s old house. Problem? That house had tenants–her “friends” (though I use that term loosely since it was really just my dad’s old drinking buddy). They’ve been living in my grandma’s house for four years. My mom had never did a single inspection in that time and they basically destroyed the house by living in filth.

So guess what? Since they were her “friends” she didn’t give them written notice, just verbal notice. If you have been reading long, you may remember that my mom obsessively watches all those awful judge shows. What on earth was she thinking?

Of course they did not move out. My mom lived like a homeless person for about three months. She holed up in my dad’s alcoholic best friend’s shop building which had a cot and a mini-fridge. Sounds like luxury! I hated to think of my mom living like that, but if she’d just used a single modicum of good sense it never would have happened.

She’s now in my grandma’s house and doing repair work. She also bought two puppies. She bought small dogs so they can travel on the plane with her when she comes to see us. Ummmmm. No. Just no. We don’t have room for dogs, even small dogs. And I know exactly how she goes about picking up dog shit when she takes her dogs on walks. She doesn’t. We’ll end up with all the neighbors hating us and a huge dog poop fine!

****Trigger Warning for neglect/abuse*******
As for my sister, I don’t even want to think about her poor children. A few weeks ago Erik was talking about his cousins and said “Mom, I’m so glad you’re my mom and not Aunt Lexie.” I started crying (we were in the car so he couldn’t see me and it wasn’t loud sobs or anything like that). No child deserves the life those poor kids have been given. I don’t understand how they haven’t been taken away yet. Oregon is very much a mother’s rights state from what I understand, so unless someone presents hard evidence of complete abuse they won’t do anything. Missing school? Who cares! Lice for months? Who cares! Sleeping on the floor because the feral cats in the house kept pooping under the bed so she got rid of the beds? She’s their mom, of course it’s ok! Mother knows best!

The oldest boy is living with his dad in a trailer park and the youngest boy generally stays with my mom. The daughter is usually with my sister and I imagine she is being sexually abused. I think both she and the oldest boy have probably been molested. I have no proof. I haven’t even seen them in 2 years. Just a gut feeling.

I’ve always said I wanted to get the kids and take care of them, but at this point my sister is still kicking, the dad is still in the picture and they kids are getting older. How could I possibly bring a sexually abused tween into my family? I have my own children to consider. I don’t think it will ever come to that point, but I sure do wish I could have got them all when they were babies and raised them in a normal, loving family. It is so hard to think about them and what they are going through. I am just glad I don’t know the specifics because every time I hear the specifics it makes me come unhinged and cry and plot and plan, but there is not a thing I can do other than call CPS and have CPS tell me that unless I present hard evidence there is nothing they can do other than keep an eye on things.

My niece has had lice for months. Isn’t that a sign of neglect? It’s hard to get rid of lice when you live in a hovel.

I don’t know how my sister can live with herself.

Supposedly my mom is done giving my sister money and now my sister is panicked because her lights and gas are being shut off. I’ll believe it when I see it. How many times have we heard this song and dance? I no longer have any sympathy for my mom’s financial situation. She has chosen to blow her money on someone who will never change. Someone completely incapable of change. I understand it is hard to watch your child and grandchild suffer, but better a little suffering up front than creating a monster.

If only family members could have a mentally ill adult committed against their wishes. My sister has so many mental issues that she needs to finish out her life in an asylum. She could paint and put together puzzles. I don’t know. She’s got one foot in the grave, but death by drugs and alcohol can be a low, slow process.

*****End Trigger Stuff*******

Ok, enough of the doom and gloom.

I made a mistake.

I stopped shopping at Zulily months ago b/c I was having more misses than hits. And the misses were really, really bad.

Somehow I forgot all of that and ordered a few purple things for Elsa.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

I got two of the items today and they are horrid. First up is a brown fleece coat that looked adorable on the site, but in reality makes Elsa look like she stole Ron Weasley’s dress robes.
It’s not musty and moldy, but I started laughing the second she put it on because all I could think of was Ron Weasly going to the ball. On closer examination, it is actually more of a Snape cut. I’ll have to take a picture tomorrow if she’ll let me and you can be the judge.

The other thing is a fall shirt/jean combo. Only the shirt is some horrific see through, scratchy material and the pants seem to be made out of some kind of fake silk.

No more Zulily for me. They make things look so cute on the site, but so many of the items I’ve received have been completely sub-part. I wouldn’t pay 5 cents for the shirt/pants combo thing. Ugh.

I was thinking today that I never really feel the need to write here anymore and tried to figure out why. I’ve got it! Aside from being busy, I have two really true and authentic friends that I love. We hang out a lot and decompress with each other. We all work well together and have created some pretty tight bonds. The funny thing is that between the three of us we have six children–which means three perfect pairs age wise! One of them is having a baby any day now, which makes me want another baby so we can have another set of twinkle friends. Not going to happen, but I will be really sad when Elsa is in Kindy and I don’t have an excuse to hang around being a SAHM anymore. I really love my life right now, even if the kids do step on my last nerve by the end of every day. If I hear “I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry!” one more time, I may stuff a blackberry bar some place unspeakable. And the crying. Ugh. Elsa cries over every little thing and I can’t take it. I really need to go and read a book or something and re-set my expectations. I have no patience for little games to make her happy. JUST STOP CRYING, CHILD!

So yes. Friends! I haz them! I like them! What a difference it makes to my happiness. I have some true, authentic online friends and would love to spend real life time with them, but nothing beats a local friend for happiness levels.

Oh! And I had an amazing compliment yesterday. One of the teachers came up to me and asked if I was a professional public speaker because of my speech at the Back to School Nights. I have to say, that felt pretty damn awesome. I am so glad I am no longer the scared, shy wallflower I used to be.

It’s already mid-September! My PTA job has been a complete time suck for the past few weeks, but the current push (membership) is winding down so I might have some time to breathe for a couple of months. People can join the PTA at any time throughout the year, but if you don’t get them signed up by the end of September there is not much chance of getting them signed up at all so I should be able to rest soon.

This week was nerve wracking because I had to give two speeches. We have so many students that our back to school nights are split into three parts. The kindy speech was back in August. The G1-2 speech was Monday and then the G3-5 speech was last night. The 3-5 speech was the hardest because they are the parents who are not going to be convinced to be new PTA members. They either join the PTA or they don’t–my speech is not going to inspire them to do anything. The former board was also in that audience, which was nerve wracking. They are fully expecting us to fall on our faces and we are not falling on our faces. They seem to want us to fail and keep throwing up obstacles at every turn. It’s a weird dynamic and I hate it. My plan is to win the lottery, move into a super mansion that has room for a very small private school and hire some tutors for the kids and their smartest friends (with non-annoying parents).

Erik is doing fine now. He is happy and healthy and having a good time at school. He is doing his homework without too much teeth pulling and generally being a pleasant fellow. I think his teacher finally has a grasp on what to do with him. For Back to School night the class was supposed to color a big cut out of themselves to tape to their chair, and then bring in t-shirts to hang over the chairs, so it would look like the child was sitting in the chair. . . with a little imagination. The teacher was telling me that Erik did not think this was a good project and told her very clearly that it was not ever going to work, the parents would never be fooled by cardboard kids and besides the parents would know that the children could not get to school by themselves and why would they come to school at night? I’m glad she was amused and not upset. She said he kept asking “Are you sure this is supposed to be fun? I don’t see how this is fun. This is not going to fool anyone. The parents are really going to think this is fun?”

That’s my boy! Mr. Logical.

Elsa is having a much tougher time of it. She’s got some kind of cough going on that doesn’t sound too great. It’s not enough to stop her from going to school or out to play, but it keeps her up at night and sounds bad when she’s crying and upset.

And she’s always crying and upset.

My happy little girl has turned into a super-sad cranky pants this week. Her best little friend, Connor, has preschool opposite of our schedule so she’s not seeing him very often. We are making it a point to get them together for park playdates in the late afternoons, but it’s just not the same as spending all day together. We used to go over to their house several afternoons a week while his little brother napped.

She doesn’t like school and does the whole kicking, screaming, tantrum thing on the way to the car. I almost wish I would have found a way to make morning preschool work because she spends all morning worrying about her afternoon preschool. Bah. At least she doesn’t tantrum at the school. She hides behind me and clings, but does end up going in without tears.

It is so interesting to see how Erik and Elsa continue to be polar opposites in every way. Erik was such a cranky pants at home and loved preschool. He wanted the social interaction and hated being alone with just me (unless I was 100% engaged with him 100% of the time–and no toys allowed!). Elsa, on the other hand, is perfectly content to play with all her little toys all by herself. She plays well with certain kids and enjoys them, but overall she sees no reason to seek out their company (Connor excepted, of course). Today she told me that she doesn’t like to play with kids and doesn’t like to learn anything so she doesn’t need to go to school.

I have a hard time trying to “teach” her anything like letters and numbers. She completely refuses to listen or engage with me. A few months ago I bought a thing called a Quiz Pen book and thought it would be way too hard for her since I didn’t think she knew her letters or numbers. I was shocked when she got almost every answer in the book right. I don’t know where she is learning things from, but she is certainly learning! That’s the one thing they both have in common–they are both very bright. But where Erik was competitive and wanted to prove that he knew it all, she keeps it under her hat. I just hope she adjusts to this new schedule soon. I miss my happy, easygoing girl. The constant crying is really wearing on my nerves.

I guess that’s all I’ve got for now. I’m hopeful that I can go back to writing here more often, but I need topics!

This has been a pretty good week, overall, thank goodness! Erik had a rough start to the school year, but we seem to have a handle on it now. I’ve talked to his teacher and really like her (at the moment. Hope I don’t live to regret those words).

I’ve been trying to get us out of here after Erik gets home from school. There is no one in this neighborhood that he needs to play with, so we’ve been going to playgrounds with MOMS Club friends, having swimming lessons and going on walks. Yesterday we had Irish Lad and his family over, but our electricity went out and the living room was not big enough for two adults, two three year olds and two seven year olds. We had the bright idea of driving out to Irish Lad’s house for dinner, since power was not likely to be back up for awhile.

Holy shit.

Talk about a white knuckle drive. Erik was in the back seat screaming that we were in a hurricane and I’m not sure he was wrong. It was nuts and a lot of the traffic lights were out. I was really regretting our decision to leave the house, but we made it out to their place in one piece and had a nice dinner.

I was proud of myself this week because I said “NO!” a couple of times. I have doormat tendencies. I take on too much responsibility and make way too many excuses for people. I get it from my mother, but I am working very hard to get out of this mindset. A lack of preparation of your part does not equal an emergency on my part. The no’s felt good–not an ounce of guilt involved! I’ve been running myself ragged doing my own volunteer jobs. I don’t have time to do other people’s volunteer jobs.

Erik brought home a paper that had his goal for the second grade. It’s one goal I hope he fails! He wants to hold his breath for 100 minutes. He’s been working hard on it and has only gotten up to 30 seconds.

Elsa’s preschool is ok, I guess. She is reluctant to go and one day I didn’t think she would release her iron grip on my legs, but she’s managed to go in each day without tears. She is always happy when I pick her up and gives me a big hug! With Erik it was always the opposite. He ran right in and screamed and cried when I picked him up. It is much more endearing when your kid acts like they like you!

Weirdly enough she had a crying fit when I left her at the gym daycare this morning. I think it’s because she’s had so much time away from me this week. She started gymnastics as well and I am not with her for that. She is begging to go back to her mommy and me MyGym classes instead. Hopefully she’ll get over that.

I have a new dream in life: moving away to a new school zone and never showing my face at a single PTA meeting. I wish I never would have got involved in that whole mess. There is one big advantage to being in the PTA: the principal will know who you are. That’s worth it’s weight in gold, but all this other non-sense is making me wonder how the human race hasn’t gone extinct. People are stupid.

I’m reading a new book that I’m really enjoying! It was a totally random purchase (thank you, Kindle, for good sized samples) so I wasn’t expecting much, but it is right up my alley. It’s called Enchanted by Alethea someday. I think it is YA. It’s a mashup of a bunch of different fairy tales. Looks like it’s a series, but I can’t find much information (not that I had a lot of time to search).

I did have one major, major problem this week: Yahoo. Oh good lord. Yahoo Groups has completely changed it’s interface to make it easier for mobile users and now mobile users can’t use it at all. Great way to meet their goal! Our MOMS Club was using Yahoo for all our communications and we have a ton of members (especially new ones) pissed off because e-mails are showing up 12 hours late, many aren’t going through at all, yadda yadda yadda. We sent out an e-mail to every single e-mail address, by-passing Yahoo completely to explain what was going on and giving them some contingency plans. It’s a major pain, but we will limp through until we can come up with a better solution. But see my point above: people are stupid. A lady stopped me in the Target parking lot to try to make me fix her Yahoo on her phone. As if I have that power. I looked at it and it wasn’t even a Yahoo e-mail that was giving her trouble. So many of these people do not understand that we do not have a personal phone line to the Yahoo tech team.

What we really need is a cheap/free program that has a mobile app. We need it to have some kind of group chat, a calendar function, a place to upload files, a way to RSVP to events, and a way to sign-up to bring things to parties. Privacy is also a huge concern.

MeetUp is out b/c we don’t have the money.
FB is out because too many of our members refuse to sign up for an account.
Other MOMS Clubs say Big Tent is too cumbersome and members hate it.

Do you think Google Groups would work?
What about a thing called tabup?
Something else?

We use signup genius a lot, but we need hosts to be able to change their events, not just go through one person. We like to have everything in one place.

Ok, my dear sonny is sitting on me saying we have to play Candy Crush. Guess I better go let ourselves be crushed by this evil level.

I thought I was having a nervous breakdown Sunday morning when my computer finally gave up the ghost for real and true. No matter how much I played with the function keys and boot options, I couldn’t get it to boot. Finally, finally after three hours of trying it booted. Success!

But. . .

It took at least 3 minutes between each mouse touch to actually move anything. Obviously that is terrible for productivity. In fact, the whole past two weeks has been a mess of inefficiency. Not having a good working computer was costing my family hours and hours of my time and all of my patience. When it takes an hour to do a simple ten minute job, you know you’ve got to do something.

So here I am! No more Dell! I went out and bought myself a Toshiba. I have no idea if it is a better computer or not, though the sales guy (name tag said Big Mike, but I don’t believe it. I did laugh, though!) at Best Buy assured me it was a million times better than a Dell ever could be. He also tried to sell me a laptop with a touchscreen, but I am old school enough that I don’t need or want a touch screen. Why add one more thing that can break?

It’s amazing how fast I can get things done! I have free time back! And less stress! I swear I thought someone was going to have to call the paramedics for me on Sunday so they could escort me to a padded room.

Now if I could just figure out how to make the font a lot bigger, I’d be very happy. This OS is really modern and strange and I can’t find anything.

What else?

I took MommyProf’s advice and contacted the counselor at Erik’s school. It wasn’t so much that I wanted someone to fix my kid (though that would be nice!) but he refuses to talk to me and I was hoping a counselor would be professionally trained to elicit a response from a very stubborn seven year old.

The experience was very enlightening.

She called me after talking to him and recounted the whole conversation back to me. Let’s just say it was a very “Erik” conversation and she was totally stymied. The kid is like talking to a brick wall.

His main problem is that the teacher does not let them touch the walls in the hallway. She is new to the school and he believes she doesn’t understand that this is not a school rule. How can she just come along and deem the walls untouchable? So he does what he does best and tests the limits Every. Single. Time.

And guess who always wins?

The teacher, of course. Which means he gets sent to the back of the line every single time they walk anywhere, which makes him hate the teacher more. But if he would just follow the rules he would not be sent to the back of the line!

The counselor tried several approaches to get him to understand that if he just follows the rules he’ll be happy and that the teacher may be new, but she does have a right to create her own classroom rules. He rebuffed them all and told her that school is really hard because he doesn’t have any rules at home.

She suggested to me that perhaps we could institute some guidelines and rules at home so he could get used to structure and authority.

Every single person who knows our family in person has been just as baffled as I am at this assertion that we have no rules. I did let the counselor know that we have plenty of rules and that I wouldn’t believe half of what he says about school as long as they don’t believe half of what he says about home.

Apparently he is also talking non-stop at school, which is not surprising. The other kids are telling him he’s annoying and the teacher has gone from her cutesy little “pretend you have a bubble in your mouth that can’t escape!” routine to basically telling him to stick a bubble in it.

When we got home I talked to him a little bit more and got something big out of him. There is another boy named Eric in the class and this boy is very well behaved. Apparently the teacher compliments this child a lot and Erik thinks she is talking to him but then realizes she means the other Eric. Also, she calls him Erik with a K and the other boy just plain Eric and he wants to be the just plain Erik.

This is something I will address with the teacher later this week if necessary. I can see how that would be upsetting, especially when he is not used to sharing a name with anyone. The rest of it? Well. . .I guess he’ll have to learn to regulate himself. I want his school experience to be as positive as possible. I want him to be happy. But I can’t help the kid if he refuses to help himself.

I’ve been dealing with him for almost 8 years now. Getting him to cooperate with me requires every ounce of my creativity and energy. I could probably write a whole book about the psychology of dealing with his personality. I guess I can’t expect every teacher that he runs into to have the kind of patience and skill that’s required to keep him happy and semi-complaint. We got really lucky with his teacher last year. She was such a master at her craft. I can only hope that as he grows older he’ll learn some skills to make himself happy.

And now I have a big decision to make! Go to BodyPump and hope the childcare doesn’t notice the snot running out of Elsa’s nose? Or do the right thing and skip it? I want to go so badly, but I know they’ll kick her out of childcare so I don’t really have a choice. They are hard core in the childcare with their “two wipe” rule.

Today is her first day of preschool, so it was going to be stressful going straight from BodyPump to school this afternoon. She was going to have to eat her lunch in the car, which is not ideal, but since Gold’s Gym bought out our local gym they don’t let kids have food in the childcare room.

Do I send her to preschool with a snotty nose? I think they would be fine with that. You can’t keep a kid home from school for every little cold that comes along.