I'm wrapping up my week in Atlanta. I think my kids have had a good time. I've had a good time. I've gotten to hang out with my dad and see a bunch of friends. I've tried my best to be a good mom, but I've lost my patience on quite a few occasions. I feel really awful when I get impatient with my kids. Everything is going along just fine and everyone is in a good mood and then someone does something to push one of my many buttons. It's hard being in the deep South and yelling at your kids in public. I guess everyone does it behind closed doors, because I got some looks in Blockbuster today for reprimanding my middle son after he pulled about 3 dozen glow-sticks of a shelf (I don't know why a movie store is selling glow sticks). We are deep in the heart of Dixie and these folks around here do not seem to share my parenting style. When I got back to my dad's house he could tell that I needed a cold one and immediately put a beer in the freezer for me. I question my mothering abilities at times. I wish that I didn't loose my temper.
The kids and I watched a double feature tonite; Nacho Libre and Blades of Glory. The oldest one especially seems to get the subtle humor. Earlier this week we camped out in my dad's yard. Otherwise we've done some swimming and the kids have ridden their scooters on my dad's driveway. The boys had a blast earlier this week by crushing rocks in my dad's vice (spelling?) in his work shop. They were convinced that they had found gold and collected the rock dust into ziplock bags. My daughter has had a field day tormenting my dad's 3 dogs and she has decided that she wants a chinchilla. Every couple of days I make the kids write in their journals and despite all of the activities that we have done, my eldest chose to write about the meal he had eaten at Cracker Barrel the nite before and my middle wrote about some plastic toy he wanted to buy. My daughter has immunity from journal writing, but has to do dot to dots.
What I hate the most is when my kids argue with each other and when they pick on each other. Generally they get along well, but they do get on each others' nerves. I don't know how to handle it. I think I try to remain rationale, but after awhile I am driven beyond reason (because my gentle pleas to them to get along don't work) and then I start yelling like a crazy woman. I'm no better than they are and I'm certainly not setting a very good example. The tactic I used tonite exploded in my face-when I tried to tell them that after their father and I were gone they would only have each other (so they better learn to love and appreciate each other). All 3of them burst into tears at the thought of a future that didn't include Lee and I. Earlier today, I was sitting in the van with them as my mom ran into a store and they started up with each other and I put them "on silence". No one could talk for a good 5 minutes and then I made them each come up with 5 things they liked about their other siblings. Each one of them has their own tactic that they use in battle with the other two. The oldest always has to be in charge and always has to be right. He exasperates the younger two because he always corrects them and he almost always has the other two under his thumb. The middle one is a cry baby. He has learned that the quickest way to get people to do what he wants is to start screaming and pitching fits. Literally, his sister can look at him wrong and he will start yelling and crying. We are all kind of scared of him because he tends to make everyone else miserable when he is miserable, so we all cave into his ploys (b/c no one wants to deal with his meltdowns). The youngest just has no concern or regard for consequences so she does whatever she wants to do and generally doesn't listen if you are trying to reprimand her. I wish I knew what I was doing. God needs to infuse me with his grace and patience.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
How to Torture Your Brother, Part 2 (and give your Grandmother an ulcer too)
I'm not sure Martha is going to make it. Someone is going to be victorious in the battle of wills and I'm wagering on my kids. Hearing her scream brings back all sorts of childhood memories. My kids have never heard their grandmother use her 'mean' voice. She's already made two thirds of them cry today and we're only on day two of our journey. She is not sympathetic to middle son's footwear issues nor his inability to keep a pair of shoes on his feet or within a 500 yard radius of his person. After I let him walk barefoot thru the streets of New Orleans, she made us stop at an outlet mall so she could buy him flip-flops (the crocs were rubbing blisters).
Female child continues to engage in psychological warfare against her older brothers. Everytime a song comes on the radio that one of them wants to hear, she suddenly has a question for me. Brothers beg her to be quiet so they can listen to the Jonas Brothers for the 862nd time. Grandmother has little patience for the bickering and for girl child's tactics. Not sure if grandmother will ever choose to vacation with us again. She has issued all sorts of proclamations today; "We must never unload the car again!" and "If you loose your shoes again, I will spank you!" and "If you bother your brother one more time, you will sleep on the sofa."
Walking around New Orleans today was akin to walking on the surface of the sun. It was 800 thousand degrees in the shade at 9 am. As we walked down Bourban Street the smell of urine and warm beer permeated the air. My oldest has a penchant for endless questions so the scenery provided him with a well-spring of intrigue. "Why do people drink so much beer?" and "Why are there naked ladies that dance for people?" and "Why do homeless men pee on the side of the road in broad daylight?" and "Why are there so many poor people?" and "Why is this place so dirty?" I was able to take a walk down memory lane and that was fun and satisfied that urge for the next 15 years, especially since very little has changed since I started college in New Orleans 22 years ago.
Gotta love Americana! Ain't nothing quite like it. What a glorious day!
Female child continues to engage in psychological warfare against her older brothers. Everytime a song comes on the radio that one of them wants to hear, she suddenly has a question for me. Brothers beg her to be quiet so they can listen to the Jonas Brothers for the 862nd time. Grandmother has little patience for the bickering and for girl child's tactics. Not sure if grandmother will ever choose to vacation with us again. She has issued all sorts of proclamations today; "We must never unload the car again!" and "If you loose your shoes again, I will spank you!" and "If you bother your brother one more time, you will sleep on the sofa."
Walking around New Orleans today was akin to walking on the surface of the sun. It was 800 thousand degrees in the shade at 9 am. As we walked down Bourban Street the smell of urine and warm beer permeated the air. My oldest has a penchant for endless questions so the scenery provided him with a well-spring of intrigue. "Why do people drink so much beer?" and "Why are there naked ladies that dance for people?" and "Why do homeless men pee on the side of the road in broad daylight?" and "Why are there so many poor people?" and "Why is this place so dirty?" I was able to take a walk down memory lane and that was fun and satisfied that urge for the next 15 years, especially since very little has changed since I started college in New Orleans 22 years ago.
Gotta love Americana! Ain't nothing quite like it. What a glorious day!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
How to Torture Your Brother, Part 1
The kids and I are on our latest trek. This time we have my mom as our travel companion. God bless her. The first leg of the journey has been largly uneventful. My hotel choice has been a huge disappointment to the children because there is no pool nor does the TV have Nickelodeon or Cartoon Network. They could care less that it is on the historic registry and that I got it for a rock bottom bid on Priceline. I have failed in their eyes. They are harsh critics. I promised that I would take them to the McDonalds that I used to eat at when I was in college(it has 2 stories), so that is a bright spot on the itinerary for tomorrow.
My daughter has taken great pleasure in keeping her older brother awake. She invents all sorts of ways to irritate him while passing it off as routine behavior. It is very sly and underhanded and it drives him to the brink of sanity. Of course she loves it because he is such an easy target and every time he shreaks her face lights up with glee. Just a slight stretch of the foot to the right barely touching his leg sparks a litany of whines, protests and complaints from his half of the bed. My mom suggests putting a pillow between them but she has a whole artillary of ammunition. If she scissor-kicks her legs up and down just a half inch above the bed, but with a high enough frequency, this causes the sheets and the covers to move up and down like waves on the ocean and can knock her big brother out of that pre-REM state to wakefulness. It's almost as fun as Christmas morning and brings as much satisfaction as watching your lab rat go through the maze correctly to get to the cheese. Once she has completed that task on her agenda (big-brother torturing) she moves on to grandmother mocking. My mom, her grandmother, has fallen asleep much faster than the target-brother. She lets out occasional snores and my daugher, knowing what this sound is, keeps asking, "What is that?" and then laughs hysterically. Whether she bores of her sadistic activities or just tires out, she finally falls asleep.
Once again I've stayed up much later than I intented to just to have some time to myself. Huddled over the computer in the dark at nearly midnite, this is about the only way I can have a small little slice of time that is just my own. I can be alone with my own thoughts without any interruption and I so cherish that luxury. This is my way of recharging and the sleeplessness is nothing that can't be fixed in the morning by a Grande Latte from Starbucks. Even though this is the mental equivalent of channel surfing, it's like eating the last bite of something really yummy that you've waited for all day. I'm savoring every morsel before I turn out the lights and hug my little bed bugs (who are huddled together as tightly as they were trying to stay apart).
"Sing a Song" by Third Day
verse: I want to sing a song for You, Lord
Lord, for You I want to sing a song
And I want to lift my voice to Heaven
And listen to the angels sing along
chorus: A song of Your faithfulness
A song of Your grace
And of Your loving kindness
To the glory of Your name
With everything that's in me, Lord
Listen to me say
I want to sing a song for You
I want to sing a song
verse: I want to live my life for You, Lord
Lord, for You I want to live my life
And I want to praise the name of Jesus
And Pray above all things You're glorified
go to chorus
And I sing about Your mercy
And I sing about Your love
Your goodness, Lord
Your righteousness
I want to sing...
go to chorus
And we'll sing holy, holy, holy
We'll sing holy, holy, holy
We'll shout holy, holy
Are You Lord almighty
My daughter has taken great pleasure in keeping her older brother awake. She invents all sorts of ways to irritate him while passing it off as routine behavior. It is very sly and underhanded and it drives him to the brink of sanity. Of course she loves it because he is such an easy target and every time he shreaks her face lights up with glee. Just a slight stretch of the foot to the right barely touching his leg sparks a litany of whines, protests and complaints from his half of the bed. My mom suggests putting a pillow between them but she has a whole artillary of ammunition. If she scissor-kicks her legs up and down just a half inch above the bed, but with a high enough frequency, this causes the sheets and the covers to move up and down like waves on the ocean and can knock her big brother out of that pre-REM state to wakefulness. It's almost as fun as Christmas morning and brings as much satisfaction as watching your lab rat go through the maze correctly to get to the cheese. Once she has completed that task on her agenda (big-brother torturing) she moves on to grandmother mocking. My mom, her grandmother, has fallen asleep much faster than the target-brother. She lets out occasional snores and my daugher, knowing what this sound is, keeps asking, "What is that?" and then laughs hysterically. Whether she bores of her sadistic activities or just tires out, she finally falls asleep.
Once again I've stayed up much later than I intented to just to have some time to myself. Huddled over the computer in the dark at nearly midnite, this is about the only way I can have a small little slice of time that is just my own. I can be alone with my own thoughts without any interruption and I so cherish that luxury. This is my way of recharging and the sleeplessness is nothing that can't be fixed in the morning by a Grande Latte from Starbucks. Even though this is the mental equivalent of channel surfing, it's like eating the last bite of something really yummy that you've waited for all day. I'm savoring every morsel before I turn out the lights and hug my little bed bugs (who are huddled together as tightly as they were trying to stay apart).
"Sing a Song" by Third Day
verse: I want to sing a song for You, Lord
Lord, for You I want to sing a song
And I want to lift my voice to Heaven
And listen to the angels sing along
chorus: A song of Your faithfulness
A song of Your grace
And of Your loving kindness
To the glory of Your name
With everything that's in me, Lord
Listen to me say
I want to sing a song for You
I want to sing a song
verse: I want to live my life for You, Lord
Lord, for You I want to live my life
And I want to praise the name of Jesus
And Pray above all things You're glorified
go to chorus
And I sing about Your mercy
And I sing about Your love
Your goodness, Lord
Your righteousness
I want to sing...
go to chorus
And we'll sing holy, holy, holy
We'll sing holy, holy, holy
We'll shout holy, holy
Are You Lord almighty
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
I've been thinking about publishing lately and I have to admit that there is a lot of ego involved in that thought process. Writing on this blog and my previous blog has mainly been like an on-line journal allowing me to air my thoughts. It brings clarity to my mind and it is a way to chronicle the lives of my children. I don't know why I think anyone might want to read (on a grander scale) the schlock I write. Actually, I do know why; because someone else just published a book about their breast cancer experience and I'm horridly jealous. Certainly this person can't be funnier or more clever than me? Are we all like that or is it just me? Petty and insecure? I am a supremely competitive individual and mostly it has served me well in life, but sometimes I am obnoxious to even myself and this is one of those times. At least I can recognize it, right?
I worked in the emergency room today and I almost came unglued on one of my colleagues. The fact that he is a supreme asshole was my justification for wanting to snap off his head. His lack of compassion was truly mind boggling and makes me wonder why he still practices medicine. I was able to keep a level head throughout our entire interaction though hot molten lava was simmering just below the surface. I think when you start considering your fellow man to be the scourge of the earth it might be time to take a step back to do some introspection. He didn't want to admit (to the hospital) some poor, young guy who almost certainly had a malignancy to prove a point regardless of whether or not it was in the patient's best interest. Unfortunately that is how it gets in the emergency room. People argue just to argue. I'm no patron saint of the poor and uninsured, but you would have had to have a heart of stone and a ridiculously guilt-free conscience to sit in my colleagues's judgement seat. He basically said that people who don't have insurance don't deserve to get diagnosed or treated for cancer. Resources need to be limited to those people who have a third party payor. Those were almost his exact words. Though it was extremely unprofessional, I told the residents that I thought he was an asshole. Apparently I'm not the first to think this about him.
My middle son told my husband that he (middle son) is a professional butt-wiper. When Lee asked whether he needed checking (after doing his business) this is when middle son informed Lee of his new title; "No dad, I'm a professional. I was in a butt-wiping contest and I won first place." This is the same kid who told us the itsy bitsy spider lived in his bottom and demonstrated by bending over and pulling his butt cheeks apart. I think he intends on going the whole summer without putting on a pair of shoes (which gets rid of the sock issues). Literally we can not find a pair of his shoes and if they allowed him to go barefoot at school, I would rejoice. Today he was at a friend's house and they were riding bikes on a newly paved street (but still blocked off) and he told the friend's mother, "I prefer not to ride bikes on roads that are under construction. I think I'll go inside now."
The aftermath of breast cancer comes at you in waves. I've compartmentalized and closed off that part of my brain-the part with all the memories from last year. I have a couple of friends and acquaintences who are going through treatment and diagnosis and it is difficult for me to relive a lot of that stuff. For instance, I haven't gone back to read what I wrote last year. I don't think I'm ready to do that (yet I want to publish it in a book?). I started this blog with the intention of it being my spiritual journey and I haven't really written too much about my relationship with God. All I can say is that I have to keep the line of vision perfectly clear because the moment I loose sight, I falter.
"I Have Decided to Follow Jesus"
(Folk Melody from India)
I have decided, to follow Jesus,
I have decided, to follow Jesus,
I have decided, to follow Jesus,
No turning back, no turning back.
VERSE 2
Though I may wonder, I still will follow,
Though I may wonder, I still will follow,
Though I may wonder, I still will follow,
No turning back, no turning back.
VERSE 3
Though none go with me, still I will follow,
Though none go with me, still I will follow,
Though none go with me, still I will follow,
No turning back, no turning back!
VERSE 4
The world behind me, the cross before me,
The world behind me, the cross before me,
The world behind me, the cross before me,
No turning back, no turning back!
VERSE 5
Will you decide now, to follow Jesus,
Will you decide now, to follow Jesus,,
Will you decide now, to follow Jesus,,
No turning back, no turning back!
I worked in the emergency room today and I almost came unglued on one of my colleagues. The fact that he is a supreme asshole was my justification for wanting to snap off his head. His lack of compassion was truly mind boggling and makes me wonder why he still practices medicine. I was able to keep a level head throughout our entire interaction though hot molten lava was simmering just below the surface. I think when you start considering your fellow man to be the scourge of the earth it might be time to take a step back to do some introspection. He didn't want to admit (to the hospital) some poor, young guy who almost certainly had a malignancy to prove a point regardless of whether or not it was in the patient's best interest. Unfortunately that is how it gets in the emergency room. People argue just to argue. I'm no patron saint of the poor and uninsured, but you would have had to have a heart of stone and a ridiculously guilt-free conscience to sit in my colleagues's judgement seat. He basically said that people who don't have insurance don't deserve to get diagnosed or treated for cancer. Resources need to be limited to those people who have a third party payor. Those were almost his exact words. Though it was extremely unprofessional, I told the residents that I thought he was an asshole. Apparently I'm not the first to think this about him.
My middle son told my husband that he (middle son) is a professional butt-wiper. When Lee asked whether he needed checking (after doing his business) this is when middle son informed Lee of his new title; "No dad, I'm a professional. I was in a butt-wiping contest and I won first place." This is the same kid who told us the itsy bitsy spider lived in his bottom and demonstrated by bending over and pulling his butt cheeks apart. I think he intends on going the whole summer without putting on a pair of shoes (which gets rid of the sock issues). Literally we can not find a pair of his shoes and if they allowed him to go barefoot at school, I would rejoice. Today he was at a friend's house and they were riding bikes on a newly paved street (but still blocked off) and he told the friend's mother, "I prefer not to ride bikes on roads that are under construction. I think I'll go inside now."
The aftermath of breast cancer comes at you in waves. I've compartmentalized and closed off that part of my brain-the part with all the memories from last year. I have a couple of friends and acquaintences who are going through treatment and diagnosis and it is difficult for me to relive a lot of that stuff. For instance, I haven't gone back to read what I wrote last year. I don't think I'm ready to do that (yet I want to publish it in a book?). I started this blog with the intention of it being my spiritual journey and I haven't really written too much about my relationship with God. All I can say is that I have to keep the line of vision perfectly clear because the moment I loose sight, I falter.
"I Have Decided to Follow Jesus"
(Folk Melody from India)
I have decided, to follow Jesus,
I have decided, to follow Jesus,
I have decided, to follow Jesus,
No turning back, no turning back.
VERSE 2
Though I may wonder, I still will follow,
Though I may wonder, I still will follow,
Though I may wonder, I still will follow,
No turning back, no turning back.
VERSE 3
Though none go with me, still I will follow,
Though none go with me, still I will follow,
Though none go with me, still I will follow,
No turning back, no turning back!
VERSE 4
The world behind me, the cross before me,
The world behind me, the cross before me,
The world behind me, the cross before me,
No turning back, no turning back!
VERSE 5
Will you decide now, to follow Jesus,
Will you decide now, to follow Jesus,,
Will you decide now, to follow Jesus,,
No turning back, no turning back!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
The Pachanga, Part II
Once again I have to withdraw my nomination for mother-of-the-year award. When you are a graduate of the Joan Crawford School of Mothering, you're not gonna get a lot of accolades. The kids did well during Mass. On the way in I used bribery to entice them to behave. We've set up a reward system at home-dried pinto beans in a plastic cup. Proper behavior earns you more beans-the more beans you have, the quicker you fill up your cup. Once you've filled up your cup you get to do fun stuff (I haven't figured that part out yet-what they actually get to do). It's like dangling a carrot in front of their nose. On the way into the church I told them if they acted properly and didn't embarrass me they would each get 10 beans. My oldest wanted 19 beans. "No way" I told him. The Mass was in Spanish. They got 19 beans. Seven kids all under the age of 7 sat thru 45 minutes of liturgy en espanol. God himself must have orchestrated that one for Fina. When the Mass was over I told my eldest that now we had to do the most important part; go give Fina a kiss. Without the proper salutation she would have never known we were there and our trip to the church would have been pointless, I explained. With the kiss, we got brownie points. It's not just me who follows this protocol. Everyone understands the manipulation that is involved. As we walked over to Fina's wheelchair I overheard my aunt tell her 5 year old granddaughter the same thing.
After almost getting thrown out of the church (Apparently you can't stand up where the priest stands-pulpit?- to get a better angle for your group photo-even after the Mass is over. The priest yelled at my cousin's wife, who was taking the picture, to get down. It was less important to him that one of his elderly parishoners had 30 plus family members gathered around her for photodocumentation of some milestone in her life than it was to ensure the sanctity of his little man-made platform. I'm most certain that God could see the irony in the situation), we headed back to our cars. This is where the situation starts to unravel. My middle son has a propensity to mischief-making. As we were walking out he saw some lady bless herself with some holy water, so he thought it would be appropriate to do the same and to tell his cousin about it also. Sticking to our family motto of "If some is good, more is better", he opted for the large-volume blessing practically bathing in the holy water as he attempted to do his version of the sign of the cross. No problem, I could roll with that one-Jesus himself had a soft spot for young children. Certainly he would be watching and smiling even if the humorless priest was scowling as he caught a glimpse of the 2 boys splashing in the holy water. Forty-five minutes of Spanish Mass and 10 minutes of posing for pictures, a little spillage of some holy water wasn't going to hurt anything.
My Mommy Dearest impersonation happened as we approached our cars. My eldest asked to ride with his grandmother after his cousin had asked to ride in our car. Hind-site tells me I should have said 'no' since his cousin was going with us, but he caught me in a moment of weakness when I had my guard down. As soon as middle son found out oldest son was going with the grandmother, middle son had an old-fashioned melt down. Once middle son gets going, no one can talk him down off that ledge. This is precisely the way to raise my irritation levels to threat level red. He wouldn't stop boo-hooing. He went on and on about missing his big brother and wanting to be with his grandmother and no amount of rationalization, bribery or ultimatum-making was going to get him to stop. Making matters worse, my mom drives up and offers to take him in her car. When I say 'no' she looks at me as though I've just told him that there is no Santa Clause and he can see the look of injustice she is giving me. She doesn't know anything about the whole cousin scenario, all she knows is that I am being horribly unjust to her grandson. At this point, because he won't stop throwing a fit, I tell my oldest son to get out of his grandmother's car b/c otherwise middle son will have to be dragged away from the grandmother's car or I will have to cave and let him go with the grandmother and leave the cousin all alone without my 2 sons in my car. My kids love to do this. None of them want something until one of the other ones has it. If one of them is going in the car with the grandmother, suddenly the other wants to go also, but the first doesn't want the second to go with him and they argue about it to the death. Meanwhile all I can think is "You ungrateful little shits. There are people in this world with real problems." Compassion is not one of my better qualities. So, back to the situation-because middle son is being a royal pain in the ass, I have to play my wild card and have the older, more compliant child pay the price and he sacrifices his seat in the grandmothers car b/c his younger brother is not able to deal. Still, even after the older brother gets out of the car (with absolutely NO argument I might add. At this point he could see the crazy, rabid dog look in my eye and he could hear the tone in my voice. He just said, "Yes mam" and got out. Not even my own mother argued with me). The middle son is still pitching a fit. At this point, he just wants his own way and he is going to hold his breath until he gets it. So, I do exactly what I had been hoping to avoid. I pick him up, kicking and screaming, and carry him to my car while he is crying for his grandmother as though I were about to exile him to Guantanamo Bay. This is were I do my very best Joan Crawford imitation in front of God and my whole family. I believe my exact quote was, "Shut-up and get in the f_cking car before I beat you." Alec Baldwin eat your heart out. Shockingly (not) this has the effect that I was going trying to achieve. He immediately stops crying (for the moment) and gets in the car. My cousin, who has been helping me with the kids, asks, "Did you just drop the F bomb?" She knows the situation has reached critical levels and knows the solution. "I'm getting you a drink as soon as we get back to the hotel!"
As quickly as the situation erupts, it calms back down again. Two minutes into the ride, middle son, oldest son and cousin are talking and playing in the backseat as though nothing has happened and I am gripping the stearing wheel so tightly that I'm leaving imprints of my hands. Middle son and I get back to the hotel, have a pow-wow, I apologize for blowing my stack and we make a deal that he's not going to boo-hoo anymore and I'm not going to loose my temper. Now, middle son, oldest son and cousin are all sleeping in my hotel room b/c they all wanted to spend the night with each other. Daughter, cleverly, flew the coop and is staying with her grandmother. Somehow she managed to avoid the conflict and still get the prize; staying the nite in the grandmother's hotel room.
The rest of the nite was good. Dinner at a restaurant (again, well-behaved children) and then back to Fina's house for more food (dessert), charades and watching the kids play. No I must go to bed b/c tomorrow it is shampoo, rinse and repeat...
Proverbs 30:17
The eye that mocks a father and despises a mother’s instructions will be plucked out by ravens of the valley and eaten by vultures.
Ephesians 6:1-4
1 Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord, for this is the right thing to do. 2 “Honor your father and mother.” This is the first commandment with a promise: 3 If you honor your father and mother, “things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.” 4 Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord.
After almost getting thrown out of the church (Apparently you can't stand up where the priest stands-pulpit?- to get a better angle for your group photo-even after the Mass is over. The priest yelled at my cousin's wife, who was taking the picture, to get down. It was less important to him that one of his elderly parishoners had 30 plus family members gathered around her for photodocumentation of some milestone in her life than it was to ensure the sanctity of his little man-made platform. I'm most certain that God could see the irony in the situation), we headed back to our cars. This is where the situation starts to unravel. My middle son has a propensity to mischief-making. As we were walking out he saw some lady bless herself with some holy water, so he thought it would be appropriate to do the same and to tell his cousin about it also. Sticking to our family motto of "If some is good, more is better", he opted for the large-volume blessing practically bathing in the holy water as he attempted to do his version of the sign of the cross. No problem, I could roll with that one-Jesus himself had a soft spot for young children. Certainly he would be watching and smiling even if the humorless priest was scowling as he caught a glimpse of the 2 boys splashing in the holy water. Forty-five minutes of Spanish Mass and 10 minutes of posing for pictures, a little spillage of some holy water wasn't going to hurt anything.
My Mommy Dearest impersonation happened as we approached our cars. My eldest asked to ride with his grandmother after his cousin had asked to ride in our car. Hind-site tells me I should have said 'no' since his cousin was going with us, but he caught me in a moment of weakness when I had my guard down. As soon as middle son found out oldest son was going with the grandmother, middle son had an old-fashioned melt down. Once middle son gets going, no one can talk him down off that ledge. This is precisely the way to raise my irritation levels to threat level red. He wouldn't stop boo-hooing. He went on and on about missing his big brother and wanting to be with his grandmother and no amount of rationalization, bribery or ultimatum-making was going to get him to stop. Making matters worse, my mom drives up and offers to take him in her car. When I say 'no' she looks at me as though I've just told him that there is no Santa Clause and he can see the look of injustice she is giving me. She doesn't know anything about the whole cousin scenario, all she knows is that I am being horribly unjust to her grandson. At this point, because he won't stop throwing a fit, I tell my oldest son to get out of his grandmother's car b/c otherwise middle son will have to be dragged away from the grandmother's car or I will have to cave and let him go with the grandmother and leave the cousin all alone without my 2 sons in my car. My kids love to do this. None of them want something until one of the other ones has it. If one of them is going in the car with the grandmother, suddenly the other wants to go also, but the first doesn't want the second to go with him and they argue about it to the death. Meanwhile all I can think is "You ungrateful little shits. There are people in this world with real problems." Compassion is not one of my better qualities. So, back to the situation-because middle son is being a royal pain in the ass, I have to play my wild card and have the older, more compliant child pay the price and he sacrifices his seat in the grandmothers car b/c his younger brother is not able to deal. Still, even after the older brother gets out of the car (with absolutely NO argument I might add. At this point he could see the crazy, rabid dog look in my eye and he could hear the tone in my voice. He just said, "Yes mam" and got out. Not even my own mother argued with me). The middle son is still pitching a fit. At this point, he just wants his own way and he is going to hold his breath until he gets it. So, I do exactly what I had been hoping to avoid. I pick him up, kicking and screaming, and carry him to my car while he is crying for his grandmother as though I were about to exile him to Guantanamo Bay. This is were I do my very best Joan Crawford imitation in front of God and my whole family. I believe my exact quote was, "Shut-up and get in the f_cking car before I beat you." Alec Baldwin eat your heart out. Shockingly (not) this has the effect that I was going trying to achieve. He immediately stops crying (for the moment) and gets in the car. My cousin, who has been helping me with the kids, asks, "Did you just drop the F bomb?" She knows the situation has reached critical levels and knows the solution. "I'm getting you a drink as soon as we get back to the hotel!"
As quickly as the situation erupts, it calms back down again. Two minutes into the ride, middle son, oldest son and cousin are talking and playing in the backseat as though nothing has happened and I am gripping the stearing wheel so tightly that I'm leaving imprints of my hands. Middle son and I get back to the hotel, have a pow-wow, I apologize for blowing my stack and we make a deal that he's not going to boo-hoo anymore and I'm not going to loose my temper. Now, middle son, oldest son and cousin are all sleeping in my hotel room b/c they all wanted to spend the night with each other. Daughter, cleverly, flew the coop and is staying with her grandmother. Somehow she managed to avoid the conflict and still get the prize; staying the nite in the grandmother's hotel room.
The rest of the nite was good. Dinner at a restaurant (again, well-behaved children) and then back to Fina's house for more food (dessert), charades and watching the kids play. No I must go to bed b/c tomorrow it is shampoo, rinse and repeat...
Proverbs 30:17
The eye that mocks a father and despises a mother’s instructions will be plucked out by ravens of the valley and eaten by vultures.
Ephesians 6:1-4
1 Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord, for this is the right thing to do. 2 “Honor your father and mother.” This is the first commandment with a promise: 3 If you honor your father and mother, “things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.” 4 Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord.
The Pachanga
The kids and I are in Laredo. We drove down here for a family reunion. These things are always chaotic fun. My kids are slowly getting indoctrinated into the ways of the Mexican family like greeting everyone with a hug and a kiss even if you have no idea who they are. My oldest son asked me why everyone had gathered into my aunt's hotel room. "Why are we having this party?" he asked. "Because when you get a bunch of Mexicans together, that is what they do son. They have parties and they eat (as I stuffed another appetizer in my mouth)" I replied. He is starting to get it. Last nite, on his own, he chose to eat encilantrada (green chicken), but stopped after he got a couple of mouthfuls of chicken bones (a known risk). Who could blame him? My grandmother had her housekeeper (who is really just like an aunt to us b/c we have all known her our whole lives) some pigs feet for my uncles. The whole idea of pigs feet has never appealed to me and after my uncles described the flavor basically as "meat flavored jello" it sealed the deal. Tonite we are all going to Mass ("Why do we have to go? We're not Catholic" my son asks. "B/c your great-grandmother wants to go," is my response. "Why can't she go by herself?" is his rationale. He still hasn't learned about obligation through guilt. He's young so there is time). Then there will be pictures and then more eating. He, my oldest son, wanted to know what American families do when they get together interested in the other half of his heritage. Plenty, but I couldn't quite describe it. This thing, Mexican pachangas, have so much more of an emotional feeling associated with it.
My grandmother, Fina, has 7 children and per her report she would have had 15 children had she not had miscarraiges and still-births. It could be true. The age span is about 20 years between her children. My mom is number 4 after 3 boys followed by 3 younger sisters. Everyone but the youngest sister is here (which very well could have been an intentional decision-to run for the hills when she found out everyone else was going to be here). My husband likes to call my Mexican family the KIA's-the Know It Alls. It's true. Everyone is an expert in a broad assortment of subject matters. It's definitely a cultural experience.
Right now we are having a little bit of down time in the hotel room and my kids are enjoying some Japanimation. Thank God for Cartoon Network. The kids were so exhausted that they slept in till 10:30 this am. Young kids never sleep late. Last nite the only way I could convince them that going to my grandmother's house was a good idea was to promise them that they could go swimming in the hotel pool no matter how late it was when we returned. I don't know if my kids can ever quite comprehend how my mom's family helped shape me as I was growing up. I thrived on the chaos. I don't think that they get the same energy from it, so I am trying to balance it yet still expose them to it. Like going to Mass-my kids would rather watch paint peel, but they have to learn that part of the family experience is doing things you don't enjoy, but you do it for someone else's (someone you love) benefit. Mass is at 4:30. Laredo is a small town (relatively). My mom wanted us to start getting ready to go to my grandmother's house at 2:30 to arrive at my grandmother's by 3-3:30 so we could get to the church by 4pm (early so we could get a seat). I know that this is a set-up for disaster-trying to make my kids sit quietly in a church for 30 minutes before the Mass even begins. I opted for arriving late (and likely exiting early). We'll still get face time and I won't have to scream at my kids. Everyone wins (though my mom was disappointed that we didn't want to keep her company).
All the kids swam in the pool this afternoon and it was fun to watch them all splash and play. I wonder what kind of thoughts go through my grandmother's mind as she witnesses the legacy that she has created. She has always been a constant in all of our lives. It is hard to imagine that there will come a time when there will be a future without Fina. She is 87 years old and she was fortunate to watch all her children grow to adulthood and have children and grand-children of their own. Sometimes I wonder, even though I know God doesn't really work this way, if that was God's consolation to her for having been married to a man who had Bipolar Disorder. The other day my husband commented on how giving and generous my family has always been (my aunt and uncle hosted the kids and I at the beach overnite) and he said, "You'd better be ready to do the same for your nieces and nephews." I'll remind him of that when I have my nieces and nephews and cousins spend the nite, the weekend or travel with us. I am trying to create memories for them, a bond, a culture of their own.
I Thessalonians 2:4 "Our purpose is to please God, not people. He is the one who examines the motives of our heart."
My grandmother, Fina, has 7 children and per her report she would have had 15 children had she not had miscarraiges and still-births. It could be true. The age span is about 20 years between her children. My mom is number 4 after 3 boys followed by 3 younger sisters. Everyone but the youngest sister is here (which very well could have been an intentional decision-to run for the hills when she found out everyone else was going to be here). My husband likes to call my Mexican family the KIA's-the Know It Alls. It's true. Everyone is an expert in a broad assortment of subject matters. It's definitely a cultural experience.
Right now we are having a little bit of down time in the hotel room and my kids are enjoying some Japanimation. Thank God for Cartoon Network. The kids were so exhausted that they slept in till 10:30 this am. Young kids never sleep late. Last nite the only way I could convince them that going to my grandmother's house was a good idea was to promise them that they could go swimming in the hotel pool no matter how late it was when we returned. I don't know if my kids can ever quite comprehend how my mom's family helped shape me as I was growing up. I thrived on the chaos. I don't think that they get the same energy from it, so I am trying to balance it yet still expose them to it. Like going to Mass-my kids would rather watch paint peel, but they have to learn that part of the family experience is doing things you don't enjoy, but you do it for someone else's (someone you love) benefit. Mass is at 4:30. Laredo is a small town (relatively). My mom wanted us to start getting ready to go to my grandmother's house at 2:30 to arrive at my grandmother's by 3-3:30 so we could get to the church by 4pm (early so we could get a seat). I know that this is a set-up for disaster-trying to make my kids sit quietly in a church for 30 minutes before the Mass even begins. I opted for arriving late (and likely exiting early). We'll still get face time and I won't have to scream at my kids. Everyone wins (though my mom was disappointed that we didn't want to keep her company).
All the kids swam in the pool this afternoon and it was fun to watch them all splash and play. I wonder what kind of thoughts go through my grandmother's mind as she witnesses the legacy that she has created. She has always been a constant in all of our lives. It is hard to imagine that there will come a time when there will be a future without Fina. She is 87 years old and she was fortunate to watch all her children grow to adulthood and have children and grand-children of their own. Sometimes I wonder, even though I know God doesn't really work this way, if that was God's consolation to her for having been married to a man who had Bipolar Disorder. The other day my husband commented on how giving and generous my family has always been (my aunt and uncle hosted the kids and I at the beach overnite) and he said, "You'd better be ready to do the same for your nieces and nephews." I'll remind him of that when I have my nieces and nephews and cousins spend the nite, the weekend or travel with us. I am trying to create memories for them, a bond, a culture of their own.
I Thessalonians 2:4 "Our purpose is to please God, not people. He is the one who examines the motives of our heart."
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