Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Serenity NOW!

They say that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I should be as strong as freakin' Hercules after all this.

The sun'll come out tomorrow and all that jazz. Tomorrow is another day.

What I'm saying is that I feel better today. I think I need to take this opportunity to say that I sometimes use this blog as an emotion dump. I think everybody in my real life is sick of hearing me worry about this stuff (not that you guys AREN'T! heh.) and this is a convenient place to just dump everything I'm thinking and feeling.

After my last "woe is me" post, Mr. Daddy asked me "Why do you put all that stuff out there for everybody to read?"

"It makes me feel better for one," I said. "Also, I got at least two "YES, me too!" comments. So it helps me feel like I'm not alone in this and maybe by posting that I'm helping somebody ELSE feel like they're not alone either."

"Oh. Yeah. I can see that," he said.

And that right there, in a nutshell, is why I still blog, even if only occasionally.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Mountains Out of Molehills

So, apparently I do this thing? This thing where I withdraw when I'm feeling stressed. From everything. Even stuff I enjoy? I don't know what this is about, but I'm doing it right now.

We didn't even go to church on Sunday because I felt like I just couldn't deal. I'm only at work because I HAVE to be.

This morning I sighed one of my patented "dragon breath" sighs and Mr. Daddy asked me what's wrong. "I'm stressed," I replied.

"About what?"

"About Punkin." And although he reminded me that really, she's fine, she's healthy, she's smart, she's sweet and really we have NOTHING to worry about, I can't help it.

She breaks my heart. I want the world for her. I look at her little face and she wants to do big things, I can just tell.

Last night I had to nix the violin lessons she's been talking about since she was three. We were at our second lesson and she just wouldn't do anything, again. She picked up the violin and was picking at the strings as the instructor asked her to, but only barely. And when he laughed -- not at her -- she thought that he WAS laughing at her and she melted down. I thanked him for his time and said that perhaps we would try again when she was older. At that point I saw her making an effort to pull herself out of her shell. She reached over to the violin sitting in its case and began plucking at the strings, but when I told her that we were done, she got mad and stormed out of the room.

We went outside and sat on the bench. "Are you sad?" I asked her.

"I wanted to play it," she said, "but I was just so nervous."

I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her. "You have years and years to learn how to play the violin," I assured her, my quivering voice almost betraying me.

Am I making mountains out of molehills? Maybe. Who knows. I think I feel just as lost as she does.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday did not start off well. I had a bad mood hangover that was exacerbated by Bubba's refusal to help walk Punkin into school because he would be "embarrassed." So, instead I made him walk in with his MOTHER (oh my GOD!) and I even made him hold my hand for a few feet. That'll learn him!

But last night when I picked them up, I was resolved to make it a wonderful evening. I asked them if they had a good day and Bubba said "Yeah, except for this morning." I apologized for my irritation and vowed to do better.

Punkin had a great day. In her class they have a Green/Yellow/Red behavior system, but they also can move UP on the ladder to blue and purple and she had moved up to blue. She didn't know what she had done to get moved up, but I guess it really doesn't matter.

When we got home I asked if she wanted to help me make dinner. I thought this would be a great way for us to spend some time together, doing something fun. Well, fun-ish. She poured water for the rice, she used the can opener to open the beans and dumped them into the pot. We made corn muffins from a box (Shhhh! Don't tell my grandmother) and she cracked the egg and poured the milk. She stirred them and then I held the bowl while she spooned the batter into the muffin pan.

The whole dinner itself was delightful. Everyone ate their food with no complaints (somebody mark this date on a calendar!), nobody was fussed at for squirming or standing up. Everybody used their utensils properly. Over ice cream dessert we divided into Team Vanilla (me and Bubba) and Team Mint Chocolate Fudge chunk (Mr. Daddy and Punkin). The look of betrayal on Punkin's face when she realized that Mr. Daddy was in fact eating vanilla was priceless and sent us all into fits of giggles.

All in all, it was delightful. And stress free. And there was no yelling.

And boy did I need that.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


Lost. That's how I feel. Frustrated. That's another good one. Confused. Inadequate.

For the first time in a long time I feel like I don't know what in the hell I'm doing as a mother. I don't think I've felt this way since Bubba was a newborn and that "Who made me a parent" panic set in.

We're still struggling with Punkin's behavior. There are some issues going on at school that have spilled over from last school year and there's her behavior at home and I don't know if the two are related, but based on several things that happened last school year, we are having her evaluated for ADD/ADHD.

I just know that I'm tired. So tired of having every interaction with her be a struggle. Nothing is ever easy with her.

You ask her to go get dressed. Ten minutes later I go upstairs and she hasn't done anything. She's playing or just sitting there. Ask her to brush her teeth and ten minutes later you go up there and she "getting some water" or she'll say "I just started thinking and I forgot to brush my teeth."

You say "Punkin, time to take a bath." Her response, EVERY TIME "I don't wanna, I don't wanna."

No matter what you say or ask her to do she has some kind of push back -- "But I just need to (insert stalling tactic here) first" or "but I don't want to."

I let her choose sometimes whether she can stay up a few extra minutes and watch a little tv or she can go to bed right then and get a bedtime story. If she chooses the tv option she will invariably beg for a story. If I hold to my guns and say no she will ask and ask and ask and ask until I lose my temper. I don't know how many times I've said "I've said no and that is my answer so stop asking." "I can't stop thinking about it!" she'll wail!

And sometimes I probably make things worse by giving in but my God I get so tired of the struggle.

Today I feel at the end of my rope. Things seem to have gotten worse lately and I don't know if it's school starting back, the new school and new teachers, the new routine.

I just know I feel lost.