Category: Uncategorized

1.) forget to pee before laying down. This is a sure sign that you will wake up at 12, 1 and finally get up at 3 am. It’s like the old dr. pepper slogan 10, 2 and 4, but with a bladder.

2.) watch the beginning of election returns with your anxious children. Because, when you wake up as afore mentioned, you will be inclined to check your phone to see if “you” won.

3.) comment on yahoo news stories about afore mentioned election. When you pee at 12, 1 and 3 am, it’s not your best brain working.

4.) comment on Facebook friends posts about the election (unless you have the same political leanings). See number 3.

5.) post on your own Facebook wall regarding the election. See numbers 3 and 4.

6.) send emails to teachers about all the things you thought about between 12 and 1, 1 and 2, and 2 and 3 am. Again, brain not functioning at its best.

7.) google. Period.

8.) see number seven, woman. Get off the Internet. Surely, do NOT google symptoms. This will NOT aid in good sleep for the next night!

9.) blog? Probably not. But here I am anyway. Rambling.

Hugs, k

I should put “NT” in quotes. What is “typical.” Cheech is anything but. He’s funny, smart, got lashes that will melt your heart, a genuine smile that can do the same, he’s enthusiastic about all that he does and countless other wonderful qualities. He’s loud. Not just a little…he lives for bacon, he loves his brother with such gusto. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. He hugs him first when he’s released from school for the day. In short, he’s awesome. I know this. It’s a fact. Not pridfullnes on this mamas part ( okay maybe a little).

It is still hard to hear all the wonderful things a teacher might have to say about him (while big brother who you may or may not have taught also) is standing right there with out so much as a “hey Joe.” It’s another clear indication of how life might be easier for Chet. People like him. He’s all the wonderful things stated above and so many more.

He is funny. Did I say that one besides in my title? I have to share the theory he had about where oil comes from ( he knows its a fossil fuel, he knows what fossils are.). So, I overheard this on the way to school the other day : C-“I have a theory (yes he used that word) about where oil comes from.” J- “oh yeah, where?” C- “the butt hair of a t-Rex.” Much, loud giggling ensues. Chorus of. “Butt hair-butt hair-butt hair!!!” More giggles (about 3 side-splitting minutes worth). Then a sigh of content from the boy. He’d succeeded in saying a bad word, but making mama laugh so he wouldn’t be punished. That, my friends is Cheech in a nut shell.

Some days it just doesn’t pay. I must learn to let go of the worry and anxiety. I don’t care (too much) if people don’t like me. I’ve never been one to need lots of friends; I’m good with the few good ones I’ve got. I never went to lots of parties, got invited lots of places, had boat loads of girlfriends. I’m good with that. I need to let the eldest be okay with that as well. We are both the kind of people that you either like (and get) us or you don’t. There is no real in between. If you love us, watch out! We wear our hearts and worries on our sleeves, we are fiercely loyal, and often speak before we think. But, if you don’t love us, that’s okay too. We don’t mind, really…

Really. There never is a dull moment. When I think there may be one, the ensuing tornado of boyness makes me think no wonder they were so quiet.

Today we have 6 and 8 year well checks. This time last year, we were just beginning our journey to an ASD dx . Now, we’re there, in the thick of it. We are dealing with issues for the eldest that both make me chuckle and cringe. He’s expressing disappointment and anger in ways that make his life harder. That’s the crux of it. It’s harder for him. I hate that.

Meanwhile, the wee one is enjoying school so very much. I’m proud and shocked. This is the kid who said he knew enough after preschool and that he didn’t need kindergarten. It’s fun to watch him love school. Isn’t that what kinder is all about. Instilling a love of school. Everyday, he’s so proud of his behavior, his newly acquired sight words…he is so enthusiastic.

I had a minor (not really. At the time, it felt major) heart break yesterday walking in to our parent teacher conference. I don’t know if I’ve blogged about how at the end of last year there was a child who would taunt the eldest. Everyday. When I was there looking on. This child. This child calls my boys name. When my boy doesn’t answer, he continues calling. Then calls him a crybaby. He did it yesterday as we were walking down the hallway. I’ve never wanted to pick a child up by his shirt collar so badly. It hurts. It hurts me. It hurt Cheech. This child. He is so lucky that the “wee” one didn’t beat him up. Chet looked at him…in the eye…and said very calmly (that eery kind of calm he could have only inherited through genetics from his father) “Don’t you. EVER. talk like that about my brother.”

Did it hurt me? Yes. Did it hurt the wee one? Yes. Did it hurt big brother? Nope. Did he notice? Nope. I should learn from that. Words only hurt when you let them. He didn’t even hear because this kid isn’t on his radar. This child. Well, he’s in my sights, none the less. He doesn’t know yet the unsleeping ways of a mama bear.

We are ever moving forward, not having a dull moment. I know, when I’m old, sitting on my porch in my rocking chair, missing the tornado of boyness, I will look back and long for the days of never dull moments.

I see a phasing out of parent/teacher face to face communication. Sure, email is handy. Except, when it’s not. Sometimes, emails go with out a response. We over look them. We (not me, of course) ignore them. Another problem with email is you can’t read tone (unless you are some sort of psychic). In these days of holding pattens for kids in the am before class, and drive through pick up lines (just a heads up, you’d better be there 45 minutes before release or you are at the BACK of the line) there is little to no parent teacher interaction. Somehow, it also eliminates parent/parent interaction. “how’s kindergarten treating little Susie?”. “Just fine. How’s Fred doing with sight words?”. These little interactions help parents (at least this one) feel connected. Now, it takes a formal meeting to get “face time” with a teacher. When so much could be done with a “Hey, I have a quick question about Fred’s math paper. Do you have a minute after you get the kids to their respective cars?”. Please don’t complain about lack of parent involvement (and helicopter mamas who send emails almost daily because i (I mean they) cant ask a quick question) when it’s been made more and more difficult to “see” the teacher.

Parent/teacher parent/parent communication is vital. Communication, the face to face kind, is vital in life. So, as I blog remotely, pretend we are chatting over coffee and are have real face time.

Hugs,
K