Good Old Fashion MY KIDS ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY Blog

My mother kept her emotions in check when I was growing up.  Very rarely could I see that we had pushed her straight over the edge.  I do remember two times she had had enough and once threw a bowl of walnuts and once threw a glass angel.  Let me clarify, NOT at us.  Both times we deserved the wrath and I say "we" b/c as much as my brother was the golden child, I clearly remember him standing there next to me when it happened.
It should be no surprise that when I loose my cool, I throw stuff.  Again, never at anyone...(well maybe there were a couple of times the throw was directed more towards a human...).  Today, it was Peter's water bottle.


Let's back the truck up -
At 6:30 this morning Maeve wanted to argue about why I keep saying she likes things she doesn't like.  Since summer her vocabulary consists of "you always" or " you never".  I have come to accept this language and for the most part, ignore it.  But this morning, when far from the caffeinated level I need to be at to function, she wanted to list the things I say she "likes" that she doesn't like. And "never did like". The list went on for a while and consisted of teachers, food, shows, etc..... I held my hand up and said "no more words".  Maeve, "why, I am just trying to have a discussion about something that.....".  NO MORE WORDS.  Finally silence.


Then an hour later my continually disgruntled middle served up the typical responses to my questions.  Her words were mixed with a tone of "you are the biggest idiot alive".  Now when you call her out on this, she starts crying claiming you are so mean.  So it's not easy to navigate the psychosis of a 10 year old but I did my best.  She was aggravated that I asked her why she doesn't want to use a certain backpack in the house. She was snarly at best that I asked her why she changed clothes and finally she was ranting that I love Peter the best. (I love him the best b/c I asked her why she doesn't like the Landsend backpack?????)   Usually this could go on and on but Mama had enough so we separated and when it was time for her to leave the house, I opened the door, she exited and I closed the door.  Sad that we didn't have our usual sweet good-bye I was tempted to open the door and say "bye sweetie" then I heard her words from 10 minutes before - "you are the worst person in the world".  See ya.


About 30 minutes later, my sweet angel boy argued once again about pants then the jacket and   finally his water bottle.  He is only going to bring the camouflage water bottle.  Well, of course, I can't find that one....so I say, "how about this water bottle?".  Peter falls to the ground in total collapse.  WHAT????  This is just a god damn water bottle.  This should be simple.  MAMA IS WEARING OUT!!!  So I throw the water bottle back into the pantry and say, "we are out of here...pack it up....we are going to the bus.....I am done with this nonsense......I can't keep arguing about simple stuff.....".  As we walk in silence to the bus stop, Peter walked about 10 feet behind me.  I hear him say, "I'm going to step on the cracks and break her back".  Well to be honest, I had to laugh to myself.

What I want...

Here's a list of some things I want....
To have about 3 days of complete quiet...peace...calm.
To have unlimited coffee and treats while I enjoy my peace.
To sleep on and off during the day if need be.
To wake up, make coffee, watch news, go for a walk, take a nap, read, more coffee, rest.
My own bathroom.
A new van.
A bigger kitchen.
No resonsibilities beyond my children.
To learn to say "no".
Dinners prepared for by someone else.
No news of terrorism, murder, poverty or despair.
A cottage in the country.
A brownstone with a big front porch in Lincoln Park.
To be unaware of how bad donuts and ice cream are for me.
To have unlimited funds to travel at my leisure.
To also have a home at The Yacht Club in Disney.
To have Mad Men start this week.

Some of these things are actually possible.....if only I had more money, time and energy!

If you want to live here.....learn the shimmy!

We all love HGTV for quick mindless TV. I love it just as much as the next guy but the restraint I must have while watching 30 somethings snub a home because of it's lack of granite just KILLS me. There was a show on for a while where this Realtor was like the Dr. Phil of the industry. He really "told it like it was". I sometimes have to channel my inner Dr. Phil as well.

Those house hunting shows are a pretty accurate depiction of many buyers out there. I hear things like "I definitely need more than 3 bedrooms b/c I'm getting married". Really? Because I know a lot of families who are actually already married AND have children and only have 3 bedrooms. OMG How are they surviving? I have also heard people say "well we would have to get all new appliances" EVEN THOUGH the appliances in question are brand new and have never been used, they are just white. OMG NOT WHITE!!!!! A very common issue that a buyer looking around here would have - "How is our king size bed going to fit?". Good question. It's not. You are going to shove it in a room, climb over your husband or shimmy in the 5 in gap between the wall and the bed just to get into bed every night. Just like you are going to shove clothes into old small closets. Just like you are going to be falling over each other in small tight kitchens. BUT here's what you get in exchange!!

FABULOUS neighbors!

Walks to school or coffee or libraries!

Festivals, farmer's market, concerts!

Awesome schools!

Awesome people!

Do I worry that sometimes people forget there is more to a house than the physical elements of that house? Totally!!! I always try to remind everyone that your mortgage payment can really be broken up into percentages. 50% for the actual home. 20% for the fact that your kids can go play with the neighbor kids. 10% for the fact that when you run out of milk, your kids can run next door to borrow some. 15% for our schools. 5% for the train....

And every month I remind myself that YES, I have to shimmy into my bed as it's squeezed into a small space BUT when i wake up and someone is sick, I can get neighbors to drive to school and chances are, they'll bring me a coffee just to be kind!! I will take the shimmy every day~!

My medical charts....oh, what they must say

The other day I was at the Chiropractor for a first time appointment. We had a long talk and then he left the room to set up x-rays. He left my chart on the table. I will admit I sneaked a peak to see if the words "Nut Job" appeared anywhere. Luckily for me, I saw nothing. Then today, I had to take Harper back to the vet for a follow up blood test. I saw a vet there who I haven't seen since I emotionally collapsed in his presence about 2 years ago. I started wondering how many charts exist out there that say Julia Nicoll = Nut Job?

At Mt. Plaines Animal Hospital the chart is full of, I am sure, stories of me crying that I'm worried Harper has cancer....or crying when she gets shots.....or crying when she gets her blood drawn...or crying at anticipation of a dental cleaning. Bottom line, they just take her to the back now for everything and bypass me completely. Perfect.

About every 18 months I am convinced I have Lupus. It's not a big deal and this realization isn't alarming at all to me. I have Lupus. I have all of the symptoms and of course, that mean I have Lupus. I go to my arthritis DR and tell her that I am SURE I have Lupus. She goes along with it and although she's "doubtful" that I actually have it, she will run the blood work. The blood work always comes back with zero indication that I have Lupus. I am sure my chart is highlighted with bold letters "PATIENT SELF DIAGNOSIS VIA WEBMD. ACT LIKE SHE MIGHT BE RIGHT, RUN THE TESTS AND THEN SLOWLY BREAK THE NEWS THAT LUPUS CAN'T BE BLAMED FOR ALL OF HER PROBLEMS'.

There is no doubt that there is a file located at Northwest Community Hospital's ER that says "WARNING - THIS NUT JOB MOM HAD P.T.S.D. FROM THE TIME HER CHILD HAD SEVERE INTUSSCEPTION. THE CHILD IS FINE. THE MOTHER NEEDS PSYCH HELP." It's true that after Peter experienced intussception, every stomach ache he had made me run for help. I'm happy to say I'm over that now.

Without question, there is a file that probably alarms with lights and sirens at my dentist office. I am a complete dental phobe and probably the only adult who cries at the dentist and worries THAT the Nitrous just isn't quite strong enough. I am sure no one else has bawled to the receptionist about cavities and how "shocked" and "devastated" they are over said cavities. Clearly, the receptionist is probably requesting I stay medicated for check out next time. My chart must read "TOTAL NUT JOB PATIENT. TREAT HER LIKE A CHILD. OFFER HER WARM NECK ROLLS. DRUG HER UP AND DRUG HER UP SOME MORE. DON'T TELL HER SHE HAS CAVITIES UNTIL SHE'S IN HER CAR".

I am happy to say that there are no charts at my children's pediatrician office. I am mentally stable there, believe it or not. Go figure.