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Endings, beginnings, elusive middles

by Mir on May 18, 2012 in It's not a regret, it's an "experience", Offspring: ecstasy and agony, Woohoo!

It seems like I should have more to say about the end of middle school, but I’ve been a little too verklempt to manage it. [Talk amongst yourselves! Here, I'll give you a topic: Attendance awards; universally annoying or only to bitter parents of chronically ill children who feel like other kids getting medals and certificates for having good immune systems is bullshit? Discuss.]

In the end, it was sort of anti-climactic. Chickadee hasn’t been feeling great, and in the post-moving-on-no-we-are-most-certainly-not-calling-it-a-graduation-ceremony hubbub as I tried to corral her and some friends for pictures, she finally stopped rolling her eyes long enough to walk up and stand nose to nose with me. “Time to go,” she said. “I need to go home.”

So I bought her a milkshake and took her home, whereupon she slurped down said milkshake and promptly fell asleep on the couch for several hours. Not really the celebration we’d maybe had in mind, but sometimes you’ve just gotta take a nap. (more…)

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Comments { 58 }

Looks like we made it…

by Mir on May 16, 2012 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony, Woohoo!

It turns out there’s nothing quite like living the one-day-at-a-time-at-the-hospital life to make you REALLY excited about middle school graduation. Part of me still can’t believe this almost didn’t happen, and the other part is afraid to breathe, just in case I’m asleep.

Today is a good day.

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Comments { 39 }

More of the same

by Mir on May 7, 2012 in Health is overrated, It's not a regret, it's an "experience", Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I lamented to Otto this morning that “I don’t have anything interesting to write about!” Otto—deeply embroiled in the home stretch of grading and finishing up the semester—gave me several suggestions of guffaw-worthy student gaffes, none of which I’m actually going to share. That’s mostly because they’re not my stories, but also because I don’t want Otto to lose his job. He’s so nice to the students’ faces; there’s no need for them to know he makes fun of them here at home.* Um. Oops?

See, the problem is that all I want right now is… nothing. No drama. No excitement. I want boring and predictable and utterly ordinary. I’m not sure we’ve quite gotten there, but we’re getting closer. And I like it, but it doesn’t make for fantastic storytelling, in general.

NEWSFLASH: With about half an acre of safely gated area in which to roam, my rotten dog only ever wants to go find (and apparently roll in) the one plant (which I cannot locate to save my life) which immediately spits tiny green burrs all over her fur. That’s what passes for excitement here right now, and I know, it’s pretty boring. (more…)

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Comments { 38 }

Well that’s… interesting

by Mir on May 2, 2012 in Aspi(e)rations, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I am a youngest child. I grew up forever feeling persecuted that my brother got to… stay up later/go places I wasn’t allowed/watch movies that were forbidden/fill in the blank with any other life-or-death-desirable activity in a kid’s mind. I never saw him with more responsibilities than I had—therefore earning those special privileges—though that, too, is probably a perception heavily shaped by its passage through tween/teen Not-Fair-Colored glasses.

Of course, there were also rules in our family that were shaped by “because he’s a boy” or “because you’re a girl.” Different time, different place. There are no such gender rules for my kids, but I am sensitive to the siren song of But He/She Doesn’t Have To (or Gets To) And That’s Not Fair, so I try REALLY REALLY HARD to explain any such apparent unfairness in a way that will make the complainant understand that maybe it’s not as awful as they think.

For all his rigidity, Monkey is actually a pretty easy sell on the “here’s why she gets to and you don’t” party train. He protests, I explain, he either backs down or sort of harumphs his way out of the conversation, saying that he SUPPOSES I know best. No, it’s Chickadee who is the frequent recipient of the Let Me Tell You With Very Many Words Why You Are Being A Spoiled Brat Right Now lecture. (more…)

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Comments { 88 }

A quick tidbit (quibit? tidbick?)

by Mir on April 30, 2012 in Detritus, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I am spending my entire day either in the car, waiting rooms, or too-cold doctors’ offices, which I guess I will tell you more about eventually, but there isn’t time right now, so I won’t. (Also, I am rather over the whole scene right now, and would like to go home and crawl under my desk and chant “MY CHILDREN ARE PERFECTLY HEALTHY” until it’s true or until I run out of snacks.)

Anyway. I think I mentioned that my veggies are in for the summer, finally, as part of all the work we’ve been doing killing ourselves landscaping. What I did not tell you is that this year I was so disorganized, I never got around to starting seedlings, so I just caved and bought some plants for the things that needed longer to grow. I thought I bought two heirloom tomato plants, two Early Girl tomato plants, and a grape tomato plant, but it turned out that there was another (regular) tomato variety on the grape tomato shelf, thus: no grape tomato plant.

This was a problem—a big one—because Monkey likes nothing better than to be able to wander out into the garden in the summer and graze, and he loves grape tomatoes. I planted what I bought, and my other plants, and put down seeds, and then my boxes were all full. So then I went out a week later and bought a grape tomato plant and put it in a separate planter and told Monkey, “That’s your tomato plant, right there. I bought it for you.”

I did this because he has unfailingly visited that plant every day since. He waters it and talks to it and checks it for critters and lets me know how George is doing every day. Oh, yeah—he named it George. Because of course he did. And George makes him incredibly happy.

I can think of no other way to get such a massive return on a $3.49 expenditure. Thanks, George. You light up my Monkey’s life!

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Comments { 19 }

My favorite child

by Mir on April 28, 2012 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony, Oh look! Something furry!!, Ottomatic For the People

Did you know that school is finished for the year here in just a few weeks? (And before the usual slew of “No fair! You get out so early!” comments that this usually brings, allow me to point out that the kids went back to school the first week of August. They’ve had a whole year.) Anyway, it’s true. School is nearly out for the summer.

Just a few more weeks to get through, which means that everyone’s Great Big Hairy Meltdown is right on schedule for… now.

This happens every year. I have no idea why it surprises me, every time. But the children are… oh, a little on edge, let’s say. Moreso than usual. And my tried-and-true rule about only one child having an issue at a time seems to go out the window, this time of year. Or, you know, THIS ENTIRE YEAR. (See also: hurry the hell up, 2013.) (more…)

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Comments { 19 }

I have to believe

by Mir on April 18, 2012 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I have to believe that when we look back—years from now—we will laugh. I have to believe we WILL look back, together, you still you and me still me and the two of us still a we that makes sense and makes us laugh until we gasp for air, until we can no longer remember why it was so funny in the first place.

I have to believe that this is the hardest it will be, at least until we’re strong enough to face stuff that’s even harder. I have to believe that when I hold your face in my hands and tell you it’s all going to be okay, I promise, that I am not lying. I tell you that your mother doesn’t lie, but that’s crap and we both know it. I lie. I lie to you; I lie to myself. Sometimes it’s the only way I can keep breathing. Sometimes lying is the closest I can come to turning dangerous hope into tangible prayer. If that hurts you, I am sorry, and I hope you know that’s never my intention. I have to believe that a part of you knows without question that no matter what, I do believe in fairies.

I have to believe that this inauspicious start to your fifteenth year on this planet is the low point, from which all following events will rise and surpass your expectations. (more…)

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Comments { 96 }

Mir just became the Mayor of Meansville!

by Mir on April 17, 2012 in Haven't been hit by lightning yet!, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

It’s Tuesday, so I’m going to redirect you to Off Our Chests, this time to confirm what you already knew—I’m a jerk. I’m mean! All of the other parents are cooler than I am!

[Aside: Chickadee has one friend who thinks I'm awesome. I have no idea where she got this idea, but I'm not about to disabuse her of it. Every time I give her a ride somewhere or she comes over or I see her at a school function or whatever, she laughs at my lame jokes and tells Chickie I'm the coolest mom ever. I've started calling her My Favorite Daughter and I'm SURE that's helping the already-strained relations 'round here, right? Because the only thing better than one of your friends thinking your terrible mom is actually a human being is your mom making it clear that she's lapping it up. Heh.]

Anyway. Tomorrow my darling daughter turns 14 (related: HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??), and I have many presents I need to go wrap for her. But the thing she wants the most—and still isn’t getting—is Facebook. Because I’m a monster, obviously. C’mon over and weigh in. (I give it about an hour before someone with a creative name like “Anonymous” tells me how wrongishly wrong and stupid I am.)

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Comments { 28 }

Strawberries fix (almost) everything

by Mir on April 13, 2012 in Aspi(e)rations, Health is overrated, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Hey, let’s talk about the kid who still likes me!

So I may have mentioned that we suspected Monkey had another sinus infection. It was a kind of deja vu to last year’s pre-surgical carnival of Angry Monkey; his behavior has been steadily deteriorating for a month, and all the while he insists he feels FINE he is FINE it’s just that everyone else is STUPID and MEAN and why are you LOOKING AT HIM? Things at school have been rough, and I’ve been back in that place where I say, “He’s sick. This isn’t him. Please be patient, we’re working on it.” And whether it’s reality or not, it feels like even the wonderful Hippie School teachers are not quite believing me, and in the meantime, I’m slipping the kid Advil every morning and on the phone with the ENT’s office, begging them to find him an appointment, a cancellation, ANYTHING, please.

I’ve realized our pediatrician is fairly useless when it comes to Monkey’s ninja sinuses, so that’s why I was waiting for the ENT appointment. I gritted my teeth and waited and finally yesterday was his appointment. (more…)

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Comments { 45 }

A revised Serenity Prayer

by Mir on April 12, 2012 in My name is Grumplestiltskin, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

This one goes out to all of my fellow parents of teenagers, with love and respect.

God, grant me the serenity to accept that the only difference between teens and psychopaths is that most teens eventually change,

The courage to smile around gritted teeth and ground the offender,

And the wisdom not to smother anyone in their sleep no matter how tempting.

I’m not saying that things won’t change, because—as ever—my mantra is “this too shall pass,” I’m just saying that right now we are realizing that things are pretty off-kilter around here, and it’s time to find that missing balance. That turns out to take a lot of time and energy (who knew?) and resolve.

It’s almost like being a parent is hard, or something. Huh.

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Comments { 22 }
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