Day 6 of the 19 day blogging spree for Military Mom of the Year. GO vote, please? Why? Because after the evening I’ve had… yeah. >>>>>>
I swear, soon you’ll get the “why I hate summer” blog post. Just not tonight. I keep hoping I’ll get to do an awesome, today rocked, and we had our stuff in line kinda post. Yeah, not so much. Oh, and there’s about to be some swearing. Totally.
I keep thinking they’re going to settle in, these boys of ours. I mean, it’s been 8 weeks, shouldn’t they somewhat be back to normal? In years past, and deployments past, 6 weeks has been the magic number.
This does not appear to be the case this time.
Every day I wake up and I’m ready to kick the day in the butt, and every day, the day kicks me instead. Last night I was up super late working. Why? Because it’s the only guaranteed quiet time I have, so I use it, abuse it, and send myself into sleep deprivation. I’m averaging about 4 1/2 hours of sleep a night, so basically…
So I wake up this morning at 6:30 am, generally feeling like death from lack of sleep. Thank goodness I transitioned to Paleo, and I wake up super easy, even when exhausted, because I needed to hit the ground running. Chase was immediately screaming for my attention, which meant I jumped out of bed like it was on fire.
Apparently, Aaron hit him.
Aaron. AARON, my little man who NEVER moves to violence, punched Chase in the arm because he stole a toy from Aidan. So it’s 6:32, I’ve been awake for maybe 2 minutes, and already I’m like:
So variation of “What the heck were you thinking” is what comes out, and Aaron tries to excuse his actions by saying that he was taking care of the problem. And so I fire back with the “when’s the last time someone hit YOU to solve a problem?” And he’s speechless. Why? Because he has no recollection of such thing EVER occurring. So now Aaron’s mumbling that Chase is driving him nuts like it’s some kind of excuse, and I’m basically all:
So it’s about 6:40 at this point, Aaron is contrite and grounded to his room until it’s time to go to school. My head is spinning with the thought that.. Oh, My God. I’m losing control.
Give it another 5 minutes, and now Chase is fighting with Aidan. Why? Because Chase is following Aidan around, making some obnoxious noise with his mouth, and despite Aidan repeatedly trying to escape, Chase is hounding him to every corner of the house. His horns and pitch fork are out.
So Aidan snaps, and grabs a hold of Chase’s chin and squeezes to get him to stop. Screaming ensues, and by 7 am, now I’m all:
So now Aidan is in his room because the first rule of brotherly conduct in the house is when we’re angry enough to lash out, hands go up and we walk away. Period.
But given the bigs already being in their rooms, this rule is not being obeyed today.
So I ask Chase why the heck he’s being such a pest today, and he said that’s his job, to annoy his older brothers, and that’s what he wants to do. While yes, I wanted to laugh, because in the law of sibling rivalry, he’s completely right, all I can think is:
Did I mention that when we woke up, it was 48 degrees? 48 degrees on the 19th of June. It was enough for me to walk outside (putting the trash on the curb), and generally say,
So jeans and jackets it is, and the kids are off to their last full day of school.
Fast forward through the day, and I’m putting out fires, taking care of FRG stuff, stocking the house up with groceries, knocking out some critique work, and put Brody down for his nap. So I’m feeling all:
And then the boys get home from school.
They’re fighting AS they step off the school bus.
Yeah. That’s about right.
The rest of the afternoon goes pretty well, with a few random skirmishes, and it’s always Chase pushing the boys just to test them, to see how far they’ll go before they push back. And Chase is screaming, and Chase is generally testing my resolve to be a parent at every moment.
Thank God the love of a mother transcends just about everything.
So it’s bedtime. That blessed hour of the day where it’s hugs, kisses, bedtime stories and snuggles. Until I look at the wall above Chase’s bed (the top bunk). And now I’m all:
What??? What is this? NO. Please, NO.
No, really. It is. He has smeared POOP in streaks that take up a 5′ by 3′ section of his wall. I can’t make this stuff up people.
So then… then I lose my cool, and yell. Oh, I yell. At least I refrain from using cuss words, and when I know I’m about to snap from his, “I dunno” answers, I put my hands up and walk away. Because when I say we try to teach our kids not to lash out in anger… well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.
I get out of that bedroom (after informing him that he’d be scrubbing his mess off the wall), like my butt was on fire.
I immediately feel bad for yelling, like:
But there’s POOP on the walls! The walls we just painted!!! POOP! UGH!
Meanwhile, Aaron is in the hallway as I step out of the room, and immediately demands that I hang his angry birds poster that he just got today, and I want to be all:
But I smile, and hang the damn poster. At least one of us can be happy in the house, right?
So Jason hops online, and I basically unleash on him, telling him everything that’s happened today, and that my biggest fear is that a mutiny is taking place, and I’ve lost control. I have no idea what to do to get Chase to stop acting like a jerk, or to teach the Bigs to ignore him. Heck, I can barely ignore him, and I’m 32. I’m basically on my knees in desperation, needing something to cling to that these boys are going to settle down, and when I ask for suggestions, I basically get…
Right. Yeah. It’s really unfair to ask him, when he’s not exactly here, right?
So now I’m angry, and hungry, because I didn’t want to eat dinner before I ran, that just makes me all icky-feeling, and just generally frustrated to he point where Jason’s all:
Sometimes it’s wise to just smile and nod, boys. Smile and nod. I get it, those deployed soldiers have it WAY worse than we do, without a doubt. After all, no one shoots at me and my life is never in danger. My sanity, on the other hand is close to walking out the door and hailing a cab.
And the worst part? I hate that I know he’s the reason these kids have lost their fool minds. I know the balance is upset in the house, and they’re acting out, missing him, and generally testing me to see how rigidly I’ll hold the rules. And all I can think to say to Jason is,
Because I want to handle this on my own. I want to balance everything, and do it with a smile, and less yelling. I’m sure my neighbors think we’re all flogging nuts in this house. Hell, they’re just lucky they haven’t seen me in the yard, face down like:
Because these little gorgeous boys of mine, are pushing me to my limits. It’s not because of who they are (well, except the poop on the wall, that’s totally Chase), but rather the relationships they have with one another. I can’t always control the dynamic between them, and it’s making me think:
So, I think longingly about the bottle of wine chilling in the refrigerator, and remind myself that going paleo means that I don’t drink wine. Well, the scale says no wine, and my inner-seeker of that little calm wine brings is screaming at me like:
So instead of drinking the bottle of wine, and digging into the secret stash of chocolate I have in the freezer, I kiss the bigs goodnight, lace up, and run on the treadmill, blaring Buckcherry through my headphones. Don’t judge my inappropriate music… 😉
3.2 miles later, I’m super proud that I used that pent up cranky energy toward running instead of eating, which is my normal MO, so now I’m all:
In the battle against myself, I won. Against the kids? Jury’s still out.
So yes. The kids have all gone mad. Yes, I’m trying not to go with them, but with summer break 2 days away, I’m basically treading water while they burn my sanity to the ground. I know I’ll wake up tomorrow, ready to tackle the day again like:
Poop on the freaking walls, people. Poop. What the hell is going on around here?
Yeah. Well, think positively. I was worried I wouldn’t have enough crazy ongoings in this house to blog for 19 straight days, but never fear:
Yeah. Some days I’ve got this, but it seems like the days I don’t are outnumbering the days I do. To this, I say:
And I just want to tell the boys to straighten up and play on the family team.
Everyone who’s ready for this deployment to end (yes, only 8 weeks in), raise your hand:
Yup. Me too. And because the army is a democracy, and they understand how much deployments suck for kids, I’m sure they’re sending Jason home immediately.
Yeah, uh huh. (I’m totally kidding people, this isn’t our first ride at the rodeo). Big girl panties on, it’s time to quell the rebellion brewing in this house.
Okay it’s 1 am, and the screaming starts in 5 hours.
On your mark.