Skip to main content

Epic Fail

In my sad, sad attempt to blog everyday (I knew I shouldn't have said it out loud or on screen, damn), I have already missed a day. You know what though? It's not a big deal.

Sunday was a rough day for the boy. There are times when you just have to throw in the towel and say Uncle. I know how lucky I am to have my boy. To be his mom. To have him in my life. I wouldn't trade him in for an "average" child any day. He makes me laugh. He makes me think about things from a completely different perspective than a "normal" person. He makes me cry. He drives me nuts with the incessant question about this, that and anything and everything.

Sunday was an Uncle day. He was so sick with that damn rotovirus that he would throw up his medication. There is no generic for one of his meds and of course, that's the one he would toss back up (not his fault). We made the decision that while he was sick, he wouldn't take that medicine. I don't know about ya'll but I don't have the extra cash flow to be literally flushing money down the commode*.

As my mother in law put it, this was the perfect test, if you will, at whether the medication (any of it) had an absolute effect on him. We were hesitant to say it was the meds that were making him behave at school. We were hesitant to think we found the answer to our problems. We were hesitant to put him on any medication at all. Folks, I am here to tell you that for us? For our boy? We will do all in our power to make sure he is not off of those meds again. Unless he's getting better. These meds? Oh they do the trick. The difference in my boy from one week to the other is so huge that you would have to be a complete idiot to not see it.

Sunday was a perfect example of how they effect his mind and emotions. We just started him back on the meds Sat and we knew that he wouldn't have changes happen for a few days. He had a meltdown to end all meltdowns in the van when were leaving the store. He gets it in his mind that he has to do something, not anyone else (in this case, buckling up). He won't let you help him. Even if he's getting so pissed off about it and screaming at you that he can't do it, he will not let you help. I tried convincing him to let me help, his father tried, my mother in law tried. The Peanut just sat in her car seat not knowing what to think. At one point I was outside of the van bawling my eyes out in -10 weather. Oh it was quite the sight I'm sure. I was thisclose to just walking away.

What kind of parent has that thought and means it? Does it mean that I'm a bad parent? I don't think so and it's taken a long time for me to come to that conclusion. It's not his fault that he's like this. It's not my fault he's like this. It's no one's fault. These are the cards we have all been dealt. It's a shitty hand but not the worst hand you could get. I don't feel like a failure most times. When I do? That's an Uncle day. That's when you get back in the van, tell the husband to drive and let the boy ride unbuckled. He'll eventually calm down on the way home and buckle himself or have me help. I just couldn't take us being mad at the situation because we were taking it out on him. Sometimes that can't be helped and that? That my friends is when you feel like shit and feel like an epic failure.

He did calm down about five minutes into the drive home and buckled himself up. You never would have known that he had a breakdown earlier. He was so fiercely loving and nice the rest of the night. When he's like that? That's when I know. That's when I know my boy is ok. It's not his fault. It's not my fault. He's going to be ok. This isn't an epic fail.

*I don't think this word gets used near as much as it should these days. I'm going to use it all the time now.

Comments

Very Mary said…
Seriously? GO GET YOURSELF A PREGNANCY MASSAGE RIGHT NOW. You deserve it beyond deserving. You're a good mama. Yes, huh.

Popular posts from this blog

I Can't Wait

I know of no one who agrees with me that Jason Mewes is hot. This is a bad example and this is definately NOT hot. That's ok though. I remember the good, forget the bad. I make no excuses for my taste*. For fans of Clerks , Chasing Amy , Dogma , Jay and Silent Bob , etc , check it out: P.S. I've been working 'til 11 or midnight most nights so I'm pooped. I'll blog more. I promise. Was I missed though? * Or lack thereof to some people

This, That and The Other

I can already tell that Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to suck ass even more than it normally would at my job. Last night, a guy was telling me how much he gave me, how much he was supposed to get back and THEN told me what order to give it back to him in. Um? Sir? I'm not a twit, ok, I am a twit, but I'm not an idiot. Ok, sometimes I can be. Like that time I moved up to Wisconsin in the middle of a blizzard from nice, warm Tucson, AZ for a dumb boy and we broke up less than two months later. Yeah that sucked but my point is: I've been in retail, just about every job one could have except store manager, for about oh, 19 years. I think I know what I'm doing when it comes to giving change back. Don't talk to me like I'm a 16 yr old kid who's working his first job and doesn't give a shit what kind of work ethic he has. I care about you as a customer but when you're a dick to me and pissing off everyone in my line so they are dicks to me ? Well, ...

This Has To Be Said

I haven't blogged in 8 months. We bought a house, still unpacking, school started. You know, life. I felt the need, the urgent need to blog about the Adrian Peterson situation today. I am full of all sorts of feelings and had to write about it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing. No really, I would. I don't feel I was a douchebag in my writing so all I ask is you not be a douchebag in your response. Thanks. My thoughts on the Adrian Peterson situation (but first, some backstory): I was spanked as a child. I'm pretty sure most of us that grew up in the 80s were. Until the summer between 5th and 6th grade I lived in Charelston, SC and from 6th to 11th grade, North Chicaco, IL. I have seen every form of discipline doled out on a child. I've seen spankings, beatings, hairbrushes smacked into heads, spoons hitting the tops of heads, whips, belts and even switches. I've seen it all. Most of you know that my son is named after a little boy who ...