My Kids...
2004-02-12 at 9:54 a.m.
I'm sitting here, typing, deleting, typing, deleting. Today is one of those days where I can't seem to articulate what I want to say.
I'm frazzled. I'm overwhelmed. I need a vacation.
I adore my kids and staying home with them, but this is one of those times I question my decision to do so. Sometimes I think I'm just not cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. Or maybe a mom at all.
Yesterday, my kids all conspired against me and agreed that having me a babbling, drooling blob of goo by the end of the day was the ultimate goal. They succeeded.
Let's dissect this on a child by child basis, shall we?
G. G is two. Need I say more? He's sweet, cuddly and adorable. I've never seen a more angelic child. But don't let the golden blond hair and sparkling blue eyes fool you. He works for Satan himself. He transforms in the blink of an eye. He goes from heart-melting smiles and sweet as sugar hugs to sprouting horns and a tail. As I type this masterpiece stuffed Teletubbies are whizzing past my head because I refuse to allow him to play with my DVD collection.
J. Oh boy... J. There's more going on with this child than can be seen. He's complex, troubled and the most brilliant person I've ever met. This child can look at a group of 30 to 40 items and in an instant, tell which, if any are missing or out of place. He can tell you which billboards are where on the highway. He can remember how many times we've been to the library in his entire life, how many days he attended school since he began at age four and how many times we've eaten at the McDonald's on Main St. It's fascinating and frightening all at the same time. I'd probably shudder to learn the boy's IQ.
But as I said, J is troubled. Things out of order perplex him and cause him pain. If one of those billboards on the highway get replaced with a new advertisement, and he didn't want it replaced, his world comes crashing down around him.
J is also the most defiant human being on earth. He'll do nothing he's told. Things must be his way or the world as he knows it, ends.
E. My Valentine baby. Sweet, smart, funny and filled with rage. Sometimes... Not always, but sometimes. If he gets it in his head that he's going to do something or not going to do something, that's it. That's how it'll be or watch out! Take yesterday for example. He had a half day at school, for some reason not cleared, nor authorized by me. Upon arriving home, E decided to cop an attitude. He refused to take his medication, for which he was due. He fought with me. He yelled at me in defiance. I gave him the choice of taking his meds or going to his room, away from the family to calm down on his own. He refused.
He wanted to fight.
In his rage, he did this:
This is a solid oak cabinet in my kitchen island. You'll recall, of course, that this is a brand new home. You'll recall, of course, that I have no extra money to replace brand new cabinets.
I don't have the strength to keep up with these types of people. I just want three normal boys. Ones who do what they're told once in awhile and who aren't smarter than B!ll Gates. Ones who don't destroy brand new homes, simply for sport.
Is it too much to ask?