Figure it out!

I was having a conversation with my husband this morning, but you could insert Number One or Number Two Son here.  I get so frustrated because I hear the same phrase over and over "What should I do?"

Perhaps I am hearing, "Will do you this for me?" or maybe I hear "Will you figure it out and give me the answer?"  And that annoys the hell out of me! It's not like I have it figured out - I'm a hot damn mess why are you giving me your crazy.

But late last night I got an email from a great neighbor and dear friend that said -want to walk in the morning- and that I know exactly how to read "I need to talk".  Absolutely!  So after two miles and two hours this morning I'm not sure which came first we had solved most of the world's problems.  Well, at least ours. At least for now.

That's when it hit me, I have all boys.  They are not going to call a buddy for a walk or a beer (at least at seven and ten years old I hope not).  It's not manly to talk about things or ask for help or heaven forbid say I'm freaking out.

But woman do.  I guess that's why to them I'm not the hot mess I see in the mirror.  All they see is someone who takes care of things, they don't see all the talking, praying, angst, processing, and even research I do to "figure" it out.

One more reason it's good to be a girl...and one more virtue to pass along to my sons. I hope.

Is this an old soul?

We have all heard that expression - "He's an old soul"

What does it mean? Is it the child that is wise beyond their years, quiet and contemplative, or like my son comes out with some things that make you say, Hmmm?

I would swear he is Hugh Heffner reincarnated but that man just won't die.  Casanova maybe?  His favorite word is sexy.  He hangs out with more girls then boys, and not to play princess because he has them all instantly charmed into whatever it is he wants to play.

For mother's Day the his teacher had them fill out a book about their mother's.  I learned a lot about myself, but also marveled at the attention that he pays to the details.  My moms favorite exercise is "walks", favorite food is "anchloto" (enchiladas), favorite thing to read "mommy books (he didn't want to write Jennifer Weiner cause its a bad word and everyone would giggle), my mom doesn't like to "brog and bemean" (brag or be mean).

So it makes me wonder just what constitutes an old soul?  I think it's one that has been around the block quite a few times.  He definitely exhibits that quality. Some of the things he says have no other explanation.

Yesterday while driving home from yet another sporting event he said to me,
"Mom, Why do people call God a man? I think he is a woman."
"Well I have to agree with you buddy and you can call him a her. But when did you or where did you decide this?"
"From your woman book."
"Which woman book?" (I ask with great confusion)
" The big one."
"Of course." (I said with utter confusion and absolute pride.)

An Unusual Mother's Day

While running through the grocery this afternoon I bumped into a neighbor.  Almost literally as I was on a mission - acquire cereal, chicken, Greek yogurt, and pitas before the seven -year-old loses focus and before my parents show up at the house.  I didn't want to stop her up as I knew what my own afternoon looked like and also because I made the mistake of telling the seven-year-old to go pick a cereal.

I asked about her daughter who has babysat for us and just graduated from college.  I knew she wanted to go in to non-profit work after graduation and was headed to Africa sometime soon.
"Yes", her mom confirmed, "she leaves tomorrow! I am picking up powered Gatorade for her, I can't believe she's going."

I can.  This is one extraordinary young lady.  She was never a typical babysitter.  She is instinctive, intuitive when it comes to children.  Checking temperatures if they feel warm, giving a bath if they got in the mud, playing games, reading bedtime stories, even hanging around with someone who is having trouble sleeping.  Africa is very lucky, or should I say the orphans.

But the irony is that she is leaving on Mother's Day because this is the coolest mother, daughter relationship I have ever seen.  They are so close, such good friends.  They walk the dogs together, shop together, and giggle together.  They were so funny when they stopped to say goodbye before she left they were making jokes about her living without water, electricity, and real toilets.

They have totally inspired me to stop being so snarky about Mother's Day. (OK for at least 24 hours what would my blog be if I didn't rant and rave about something ridiculous my husband or kids did!)

So for Taylor and Laura - and all of those Mom's who will be thousands of miles away from their babies, my thoughts are with you.  Happy  Mother's Day!

LMAO

So my beautiful and silly now seven-year-old came home  with his dad the other day after a walk.  He announced to me that he had seen Mrs. C at the park.  You did, I said and looked at my husband who was looking at me totally perplexed for a moment.  To which the seven-year -old replied "Daddy didn't recognize her with her clothes on."

From now on we will only meet Mrs. C together!

what will become of me, them, us??

I'm in a place of self-discovery.  Perhaps because I turned 40, because of my husband's mid-life crisis, or maybe because my kids have had a rough year.  One girlfriend keeps telling me I've a rough year - but I beg to differ.  I got new boobies ;-) I'm good with that.  I'm not sure why - I just know I need things to change.

When I see my kids struggling or hurting the only place I have to go is inward.  Why do they struggle with friendships, why do they have such great anxiety, why are they so angry all the time???  I think back to where I was and what I was at that age. Then I look in the mirror and say, Well what do you  expect Miss Hot Damn Mess.

Why did I think my kids could come out of the womb a total opposite of me - because I threw some other genes in the pool?  There was no way they'll come out with my anxiety because I married someone who is a total opposite!  How are 2 Type A personalities going to produce a Type B kid? Adoption.

The truth is I married someone very similar to myself and I think most of us do.  My husband and I were married 8 years before children so we often joked that the government was paying us not to reproduce.  Friends and family did not laugh, they sighed in relief.  When you look up Type A Personality in the dictionary there is a picture of my husband, anxiety disorder-me, control freak - my husband, avoidance personality disorder - me, intermittent explosive disorder - my husband....I could go on.  We're nuts.

The reality is our children are doing 100% better than us.  My husband and I have lost our ever loving minds!  All we do is fight, snip, and argue.  Then bitch when the kids do it.  They call each other names, they can not be in the same room for more than 10 minutes together, they are constantly picking on one another.  Huh? I wonder why?

I don't know how many times one of my children has talked me down off a ledge, like the other day when I went grape ape all over a woman who almost hit us racing through the neighborhood to get to a garage sale.  It was bad.  It was Real Housewives of Atlanta bad.  My ten-year-old said, "Mom-that was really mean.  Nothing bad happen and she didn't mean to do it."

He's right. I was so wrong.  And I am so glad they are better people than I am, I just wonder where that comes from- maybe Grandma was right about pools.  Thank God we didn't use protection.

stream of idiotness

My ten-year-olds soccer team, which those of us of a certain age would compare to the Bad News Bear, had yet another tournament this weekend and at the end of the day on Saturday they had won both games.  I can not tell you the feeling as a parent.  One other mom confessed this morning to praying last night that they win this - just one!

On top of these hard fought wins my son was running a low grade fever and  complaining off and on of a headache and stomachache.  I was so proud of all of them but the maturity, determination, and integrity my son showed playing sick.  I wish I could say the same for my own behavior.

What the hell is wrong with me? I swear I am a total jack@$$.  TOTAL!! How many games do people have to say "Hello" and then walk faarrr away in the other direction for me to understand that I am out of control.  None of the other parents cheer - so all the reason for me to scream the entire game right....NO! Not to mention I don't know beans about the game of soccer so I can't tell when it's onside, offside, or overside.  Does that stop me? NO!

I need a new motto because mine is not working for me...."The road to hell is paved with good intentions."  I don't think I am going to hell, I think I'm living in it.  Someone sent me an email (does that prove how bad it is!!) about an article asking college athletes what had the greatest impact during their sports career the common answer - their parents telling them I love to watch you play.

My poor kids have to admit to owning the crazy ass yelling mini-van wielding idiot arguing with a ref over the half-time whistle. God Bless them.  God Help me - to find a carpool!