Thursday, June 7, 2012

One More Chapter From The "Mother Of The Year" Book

Tell me I am not the only one. Please.

It's been a shit-tacular week here. Just lots of behavior problems, sleep issues with everyone, and my spouse has been working a lot.  I still have yet to meet a whole lot of people here, so the seclusion has been getting to me and I might be going a little bit cray cray.

Today, I took the kids to the complex swimming pool, much like I do at least 4 times per week. It was a beautiful 97 degrees and breezy, so I thought we would enjoy many hours splashing and expelling energy. Twenty minutes into it, the kids wanted to get into the hot tub.  In the summer. In Las Vegas.

I tried to be reasonable, and said "10 minutes."  So, I set my timer, and even gave the appropriate prompts for Sam.  At the end of 10 minutes, he refused to get out. "No. No minutes. I'm staying."  I calmly threw down the "count to three and then we go home" gauntlet.  No dice.

So mama counted to three, and with every number announced, my blood pressure raised about 100 points.  At three, I went to grab him, and he went to the middle. So I got in and got him, said "time to dry off" and put him on the concrete.  He ran to the pool and jumped in, swimming to the middle.

Mama lost her shit.  I got in, and dragged him to the side, and out of the pool.  He kicked and screamed as I put his water shoes on him, gathered our things, and dragged him out of the pool area. I am pretty sure that most of the patrons enjoying the pool saw more of my chest then they had ever intended on seeing.  I managed to say few words until he started laying on sidewalk instead of walking beside me.  Then I freaked the F out.

Bad call in the autism book, bad call in the parenting book, bad call all around. But he pushed my last freaking button, and I was done.

I basically dragged him home, along with a pool bag and another 3 year old who was pissed at her brother for "ruining everything again."

So now, I've turned on the TV, locked myself on the patio, and am currently drinking straight vodka out of a high heeled shoe.

A scene was caused today, but as Las Vegas and myself say, the house always wins kid. (Or at least we like to think we do. Shit, man. This sucks.)


  1. You. Are. NOT. Alone.

    Really,that kind of stuff happens to all parents and if they say it doesn't they are liars. Yeah it sucks, but then tonight you will go in and look at his sweet face asleep and you get to start all over again tomorrow. And it will be better.

    You have far more patience, compassion and mad parenting skilz than you give yourself credit for. A shitty parent wouldn't care.

  2. I COMPLETELY agree with Susan. A shitty parent wouldn't care. Granted, I don't have kids, but in my opinion, you taught him today that you mean what you say, and that boundaries are boundaries. You're a friggen rockstar!!!!

  3. You rock. Really. There's a lot to be said for introspection & surveying the day from a distance, and there's a lot to be said for the high heeled shoe, as well. Something about today prepared one of you for some lesson down the road, at some point you'll be grateful for the "learning opportunity". And in the meanwhile, remember that a good mama takes care of herself, blowing off some steam now is ultimately better for your kids, later. Enjoy that shoe!

  4. Good Lord, who wouldn't have lost their mind let alone their religion. Good for you, I say. You are still the mama...and you still will be, even after the next election. That's what my mama used to say...And I call it a success if you don't actually spank the kids' head off. Good job, sista.