Talk to the Hand

I feel the need to post about the joy of motherhood. It is so rewarding, yet so frustrating at times. I know at some point these kids are going to realize they aren’t know-it-all’s, but until then, I guess we’re just going to argue about it. Constantly. At what point do you decide that continuing to argue is doing absolutely no good?

I feel as if I am failing at teaching a lesson if I allow them to believe whatever asinine thing started the discussion. But they’re so hard-headed. And it needs to be pointed out that when you have a chronic illness you are already dealing with so much of your own crap, that your tolerance level for these aspects of life is significantly low.

knowitall

Men, namely my husband, will tell you, “I wouldn’t put up with that crap.” I have a different way of viewing these things. Yes, I don’t think that it’s right for the kids to talk back, and the tone in which they use is a pre-cursor to how the situation is going to unfold. But we want to raise kids to be leaders and think for themselves. Sometimes this means allowing their opinion to be heard, but it doesn’t make it okay for them to treat you like a registered dummy.

When I was growing up there would be no questions. I would be backhanded for this type of backtalk. Not all of it, but most of it. In this day and age, people don’t do that for fear of getting in trouble. I don’t share in that fear, but I do fear it because I’m not built like most humans. If I were to backhand one of mine, that hand would hurt for days if not weeks. With this disease, I bruise easily. I hurt more with a whole lot less effort. I also don’t move near as fast as I used to be able to.

My youngest has figured this out. The oldest has figured out that I’m almost certainly not going to inflict spankings or anything resembling one on him. They’ve figured it out, but are they taking advantage of it?

 

IMG_3433It really does hurt my feelings. I can’t say that to them because I try to hold the majority of my pain and suffering inside and out of their sight. When you have very little energy and are fatigued every minute of the day, you oversleep for everything, you have to skip cooking dinner multiple times a week, you start to lose the respect of your family. It’s not fair. And there seems to be no way to combat it without explaining what you’re going through. Likewise, there seems to be no way of explaining without sounding like a cry baby or an excuse maker. It’s a battle that isn’t capable of being won, it seems.

I know all parents struggle with whether they’re doing the right thing in certain aspects of their parenting journey. I am not trying to insinuate that I’m the only person struggling with this because I am also sick. I think this post is more of a rant. A rant to let everyone know that we are all struggling with this parenting thing. I just have an added aspect to mine.

 

Here is a video that I found to completely compliment this post.  Enjoy!

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Diplomas for All

i283163839591050357._szw480h1280_Well, tomorrow is the day I get to report the non-progress I’ve been experiencing. I know I have said this a lot here lately, but I mean really? How much is it going to rain? For the love of God and all of my aching body parts let’s put an end to this unstable air PLEASE?

 

I have been fairly absent from the blogging scene lately. Between school ending and mother in law in the hospital and me feeling like the tin man needing several squeaks of oil, I’ve just been burnt out. Something I seriously don’t understand: why in the world do we need to have these grand graduations after every single school year? Why did I have to attend my 6-year-olds graduation, my 10-year-olds, and my 17-year-olds girlfriends all in one week? Hers I understand. Graduating high school is sort of a big deal, but the others are just part of life. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing my kids be rewarded for doing good in school, but I didn’t have these graduations and all these goings on in my time and I think, I hope, that I turned out okay.

 

Maybe I’m old-fashioned, I don’t know for sure. But see, in my time passing school was something you were expected to do. Every. Single. Year. And if you did, then you did what you were supposed to the next grade up and if you didn’t then you got to try to get it right the next year in that same grade. I guess there’s not enough opportunity to build these little butter cups up in this day in age. We must give everyone a graduation and an award, just for participating. It’s sad really.

 

So now it’s summertime and there’s one GREAT thing about summertime and that is that we get to sleep in. I don’t have to get up and shuffle kids around to schools. I get to spend all day with these kids and trust me when I say this. I love them. I love them more than anything in this world. And still, I have to say those two sentences to myself several times a day to keep from hollering at them. They fight and argue and tattle tell ALL DAY LONG. And there’s a small period of time they’re being unusually quiet and liking each other for a moment I go in to check on them and they’ve made the biggest messes one could imagine. They can turn this house into a scene on hoarders in nothing flat. Which in turn I make it into a scene as well. But not on hoarders. On Snapped.

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