children, parenting

Contrary Genes and Selective Memories

New dragon pjs

The boys have clearly inherited the contrary gene. No matter what I say or what I ask of them, there is always some reason why they can’t quietly comply. Sometimes it gets complicated to always disagree with your Mom but they are very dedicated. This morning as I was picking out Full Speed’s clothes, I had landed on a Star Wars theme. I told him this way he could wear his new Darth Vader socks (I think they are super-cool).

How to Train Your Dragon very cute movie.

“Mom, I can’t wear those socks. I was suppose to wear my new Power Ranger socks. I told you Hot Wheels first, Darth Vader second and then Power Rangers last.”

“No you didn’t Full Speed. You already wore Power Rangers and they are in the hamper.”

“Oh.” And he puts on Darth Vader. Why he simply couldn’t put them on in the first place is a mystery to me.

Not to be outdone, as we had been on a family bike ride the day before, little T.Puzzle threw a stubborn, level-5 tantrum about riding on Mom’s bike. Granted, Dad’s bike has much more status attached to it, but it was time to switch back to Mom’s. He tantrumed and fussed and yelled, ‘no!’ and ‘I not!’ and ‘I never!’.

Mad Dog marvelled at his stubborness.

“Full Speed was never this stubborn,” he said.

I was gobsmacked (fun word, right?).

In my reality (wink to you, Mad Dog), Full Speed was ten times if not a hundred times more stubborn than little T.Puzzle at this same age.

This is my theory as to why Mad Dog’s memory is different than mine. If you are a carrier of the contrary gene (such as Mad Dog) then you also must have selective memory when it comes to recalling stubborn behavior of any kind by anyone. That is the only realistic explanation for Mad Dog’s apparent memory loss surrounding Full Speed’s early years.

You know what? I bet he will disagree with me.

Hmmm…, how interesting and not contrary at all.

humor, kids, mommyhood

Mission to Mars

This is not an excuse, but I want to preface that the following exchange took place while on route to school. Getting out the door had been a circus-like endeavor and I was trying to focus on the nearby elementary school traffic. I can only do so much.

Full Speed: “Mom, what’s on Mars?”

Me: “There’s sand and desert.”

Full Speed: “Are there houses?”

Me: “No.”

Full Speed: “Do people live there?”

Me: “Not that we know of.”

Full Speed: “So you’re saying we don’t know them. Are they strangers then?”

Me: (exasperated tone) “No, they aren’t strangers. No one lives there.”

Full Speed: “So, there are houses, sand and desert but no people?”

Me: “Sure.”

I can blame the faulty government or our school’s curriculum. but really my children’s education is being threatened by my own low-threshold of exasperation. I sometimes say what I say just to get through my day. Houses on Mars, Easter Bunnies who reside at the Holiday Inn, who knows what I will say next?

children, mommyhood

One More Thing

Full Speed’s newly updated glasses finally arrived at the optometrist. In all fairness, it was a mixed blessing. Of course I’m grateful that he will have his new glasses (we have waited over a month and a half for them) but I dread going to the optometrist’s office. It never goes smoothly and at some point, I either want to pull my children’s hair out or my own.

When we are enclosed in the tiny room where Full Speed gets his glasses adjusted, he starts grabbing all the pliers, cleaners and mirrors that are within his reach. His little bottom is squirming all over the chair and I can barely keep him focused and still. While the patient employee is trying to get Full Speed’s fit right, his little brother decides to start climbing his way up me and almost knocks me over. I look down at T.Puzzle and notice with the angle his head is turned, that on the side of his neck he has a bulging growth. I put my hand to it and my heart drops as I feel it’s squishy consistency. Logic tells me it’s a swollen lymph node from all of his extended illnesses; crazy, Mommy-fear tells me he has cancer.

During my-child-possibly-has-cancer realization, I am informed that because Full Speed’s prescription is so highly specialized, that he will not be able to have the rec-specs that we had ordered as well (protective eyewear used for active sports). My heart drops again. I have to go to a very zen-like state of mind to keep my eyes from rolling in exasperation. I’m exasperated because the optometrist staff is trying to tell me that his regular glasses are more flexible than average and could suffice in a sporting situation. Uh,… have you met Full Speed? Rec-specs sure would have been nice.

When I get home, I get on the computer to look up swollen glands on WebMD. As I click to the homepage I see a list of common ailments in a column on the left-hand side. I’m about to put T.Puzzle’s symptom in the WebMD database, when the words anxiety disorders jumps out at me from the column. In that moment I knew what I really should be doing is diagnosing my own anxiety issues and letting T.Puzzle’s swollen glands run their course.

T.Puzzle was definitely tired and I could tell he was possibly fighting off some new virus or bacteria (he did end up puking the next day). I put him to bed and then, Mad Dog headed upstairs to put Full Speed down.

Mad Dog returns shaking his head in frustration. Full Speed’s new glasses are broken. He had them for less than three hours (can u see why rec-specs might be a necessity and not a luxury for Full Speed?).

I wonder if WebMD has a diagnosis for a Mom who honestly can’t take one more thing going badly. I’ll let you know if I find it.