Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Or My Brothers
"Have you ever seen me reach for the sugar bowl?" I asked him in complete astonishment. We don't even own a sugar bowl, nor any sugar. "You know I don't touch milk," I also pointed out.
Oh my. Boys are completely unobservant. I should talk, I'm not any better. Even my own mom recently stated, "I thought you were getting your hair done today?"
Uh, I just did. You can't tell? See where I got it from?
Another night on the soccer field, two more wins. A hat trick for Nando, which is personally scoring three goals, and Allen again scored the only goals for his team the entire season, shutting out the other team, which is a baseball term, a soccer one too? I dunno.
Scotty and JoJo, often out shined by Allen's amazing abilities and intricate foot work, played extremely well last night, making me very proud.
"You can have your own box of cereal tonight," I hollered to JoJo, who eats an entire box after supper but before bed every night anyway.
"An upgrade!" he hollered back, only to later holler at me that he'd pooped his pants, which wasn't true, just his way of wanting to embarrass me, walking stiff legged as a toddler with a full diaper.
And speaking of baseball, how 'bout Freddie Freeman for President? His walk off home run blew the Braves into a postseason berth. Yeah boy! The only good thing about autumn is the intensity of the baseball games.
So I'm reading an editorial by a young mom who quit trying to force her young daughter to be pretty. I so agree. What message are we sending young women? No wonder there are so many eating disorders. You don't see men struggling with those issues. We need to teach our daughters to be strong and independent. Most women, if not every single one, will need to support themselves at some point or another and best better be learning a way to do so. This is why I push education upon my kids.
"I don't wanna end up alone like you," a couple might have screeched to me over the years, and then used that lame line as a reason to hook up with some chronically unemployed idiot so not worth their time. I do have one grown daughter right now, who completed high school, and is incredibly lovely, in her mid-20s, now with a guy who has issues of violence. Protecting her identity here, this is all I'll say about this subhuman male who lashes out.
I'd so much rather be 'alone like me,' rather than with someone who gets drunk and hits.
This makes me not trapped, but free and happy.
Yesterday I'd hauled and sifted another 100 pounds of compost, and added wood chips to another garden bed, running out of time as I had 25 pounds of potatoes to peel and chop. The kids had been clamoring for potato bar for weeks now. Tabby 'bout nutted up, as did I, when it appeared we'd run out of nutritional yeast, how could that be as I'd recently spent $25 on a huge sack of it. Found it! Like me, Tabby craves it.
I'd sat on my lazy butt for an hour or so yesterday morning playing solitaire on the computer. Forever alone, yeah I get it, but whatever. I needed to calm my nerves, to give in to my inner sloth, if only for a bit, knowing how rarely I've done so in my last 39 years of parenting.
"Like never," Sarah observed. "I have no memories of you ever just sitting around unless you were reading," she told me later in the afternoon, when I owned up to my idle nature that day.
I feel guilty inwardly if I'm not kicking my own tail to get it all done.
Michael from church again showed up down at the fields to cheer on my sons, he's long been the stabilizing agent, as we've churned through three youth pastors in the last couple of years.
Somehow today I need to get four sons to Dr C's tele-psychiatry appointment, now not conveniently located at all. Her other clients had acted out so destructively and so loudly in the last place that they were subsequently uninvited, now we need to drive an hour away. I don't know if that's gonna be feasible, or if we should be looking elsewhere. My kids do not like changes and I hate to upset their apple cart. They like her a lot, as do I.
Two major incidents yesterday at the high school involving deputies and none of us. Music to my ears. My kids had reported all they'd seen that day and all I could come up with is, "Thank God none of y'all were involved," as I so deeply am distressed by negative incidents.
I'd run into a former caseworker who'd helped me with two sons years ago. He was wearing a Boston Red Sox hat and I hardly recognized him at first until I heard his voice. He was coaching the opposing team at Nando's game. We briefly caught each other up on everything, he'd left social work basically for a mental health position, which sometimes feels as if it's exactly what I've done over the years.
A potato bar as a vegan? No butter, which I've never liked as it's too close in consistency to mucus. Can you imagine how many snotty noses I've wiped over the last 40 years? Sour cream? Nope. Instead I use nutritional yeast, sea salt, black pepper, Fire Hot Pepper Sauce and my go to beloved avocados. I'm eating a couple every day it seems, absolutely loving it.
My kids aren't vegan, slathering sour cream and butter.
Wanna have zero abdominal fat? Be a vegan. I don't have a six pack, I don't have abs at all. I also don't have a pooch pouch like so many women my age. More importantly is the energy level I'd wager, not being bogged down by heavy, greasy, animal products like nasty turd-looking cuts of beef. Yeech. I'm not just a Bambi loving, Mother Nature, tree hugging freak - this is so easy for me, because I think meat looks like doo doo.
Like my maturity level?
It wasn't the 21 sons that brought me to this, I've always been inclined to goofiness. Just ask Sarah or my brothers.