A Knucklehead Update!!!

Well, my darling Damien is currently on the South African three week long, winter school holiday.
Oh joy (Damien's current favourite saying)...
A bored Damien is never a good thing- he has not yet found a job, his friends are not within walking distance, and I have not yet replaced/ refilled my fire extinguishers (yes I know- I'm a bad mommy), I just haven't got around to it!
He's just finished his second term exams at school too- and after the first term's disastrous test results this term had better be a vast improvement otherwise he's in trouble.
In other non-educational adventure news, the knucklehead and my Glugs get on famously. They laugh together over silly things like whether tomatoes are fruits or vegetables, and Damien's invention of the "Book Of Botanical Shit" which Glugs insisted he had the newest publication of in his bookshelf at home. Then Glugs and I are sitting downstairs watching a movie or TV and the Knucklehead is playing Warhammer upstairs on the PC and Glugs will be "summoned" to compare notes or point something out in terms of where Damien is supposedly kicking his butt in the game (they're both playing the game but with different armies).
Damien is a little apprehensive about our moving in with my Glugs in August/ September... As am I! Apart from dreading the packing up of almost 13 year's accumulated crap (thats how long we've been in our flat) I am more than a little wary of giving up my independence to move in with him. Damien is a little nervous simply because its a big change for him... he is excited about having a pool and his own bathroom though- and he's happy that our furbabies are going with us and he doesn't have to change schools.
And a couple of weeks ago we spent the long weekend in Durban and Damien got to "dive" in uShaka's shark tank! I haven't seen him so excited about something in a long time. Then the three of us did a "reef walk" with these heavy glass domes over our heads and a manta ray gliding over us! It was awesome, and Damien could barely contain himself!

And amazingly- and in a total first for Damien- he is still dating his girlfriend "Flower" after 4 months! As much as I wish he would stay single till he's at least 25, he's way too gawjiss for the girls to leave him alone... LOL!

sweets update

Concerta turned out to be a kind of a blessing and a curse all mixed together in a white tablet to be taken once a day, with breakfast :)

it's about two weeks now that Kay's on the medication and although I'm trying soooooo hard to be negative about this... so i can just tell his doc..... sorry this drug is just not for my kid ok!?

sigh

it's kind of working... wonders

who knew?

the new focused super charged Kay is a easy child to live with, I never knew he was so all over the place until he wasn't anymore... he still eats his food, although a bit less, i noticed that... he's also struggling to sleep more than 6-8 hours at a time... i'll see more of the results with his school work next term, it's school holiday now... but the big breakthrough is ... he's not so anxious anymore...

he's taking chances! real "dangerous" steps in his mind... like walking to school! this is a HUGE step for him... i know it sounds silly but really, as his mother i know what a big deal this was... granted it's not all the way to school, halfway... but still... halfway!!!

I'm slowly exhaling and my heart is bursting a little cause I'm so proud of him!

baby steps... :)

The Kid Update

My absence has been inexcusable.

Let me fill you in on what's happening with The Kid:

• He has one tooth. One at the bottom. It's partner is taking so long to come through. He was completely miserable throughout. He now bites me. Often. Little snot.


• He has discovered how to leopard crawl. You know, dragging himself along the floor by his arms. He's exploring everything, pulling the curtains, the plugs, the TV cables. And always wants to touch the heater. And cries and wobbles his bottom lip when I sternly say 'no, dont touch'.


• He has been sick this last week. Flu and ear infection. He only wants his mommy, wants nothing to do with his father. Has been so miserable I have renamed him The Prince of Darkness. On the plus side, he now drinks his medicine out of a spoon (previously I had to use a syringe) and doesn't spill any. Think he might be becoming a Stopayne addict.


• When he's really miserable I let him sleep between The Boyfriend and myself. He either sleeps right up against my back, or sleeps under his dad's armpit.


• He's eating solids. Refuses vegetables. Only eats fruit and cereal. Still loves his milk. Toast and Bovril or toast and honey is the bomb, as far as he's concerned. Getting quite good at feeding himself from a selection of fruit pieces and little squares of toast. Even though a good portion of it gets mashed into his hair and on his lap.


• He's sleeping through the night. From 6pm to 6 am. Every night. Bless.

Am a very grateful bad mommy. And all you others? What's new in your lives??

The worst mama ever . . . .

So, it goes like this. I fetch Ciara from aftercare at school yesterday and she is crying. I immediately ask her whats wrong, like the good momma I thought I was, and she tells me she fell and hurt her wrist.

So I ask her if it is sore when she moves it, must we go to the hospital or does she think she will be okay. She tells me that it is REALLY sore. I am getting really frustrated, because seriously, who wants to go and sit at the emergency room at night in the cold?

I'm thinking, it's probably just bruised, this child is such a drama queen*.

So after much mmming and aaahing, I head over to Unitas to have my child seen to. I am not a happy momma at this point. I want to be at home. It's dark. It's cold. I have SO many chores to do.

After spending 400 hours** at the emergency room, we get the result that she has, in fact, fractured her wrist. She is currently in a splint, with a cast being put on on Friday.

So, it's official. I'm the crappiest momma ever.






* In my defence, the child is the queen of drama, and belongs on stage, in fact, she should be awarded an honorary Academy Award for Outstanding Performance in Bawling at Absolutely Everything.
** Okay, so it was only an hour and a half, but the drama queen apple does not fall far from the drama queen tree.


Duel posted here : The Bull(Shit) Times

Milestones

I had some news this week that a friend of mines 14 year old daughter had her first real kiss. I was thrilled in the way only a close friend, but not the actual mom can be.

This got me thinking about milestones and the bitter-sweet feelings they bring with them.

Ciara has physically been an incredibly easy child to mother.

She day-time potty trained so well, and potty trained herself during the night. She wet the bed maybe two or three times, and I have never restricted her intake of liquid at all. She has trained her body and bladder very well. This was the first and only milestone I have ever felt only glad about - not having to clean shitty nappies - yay!!

Her first day of Big School (Grade 1 - 2007) was wonderful and sad. My little baby is growing up. Kitted out in her Big Girl uniform, which was too big for her, she looked so happy and nervous and excited about her new adventure. The outside of my said "Yay, look at you my big girl" but the inside of me cried just a little.

I have always bathed Ciara. For two reasons, One : I enjoyed it and Two : I didn't think she could do a proper job of it. But then she wanted to do it herself, and in the shower. Hooray, I shouted on the outside, what a big, independent girl you are. "Don't take away my bathing please" I shouted on the inside. My baby was growing up.

Ciara turned 7 in January - SEVEN. She is growing so fast, and so beautifully.

Letting go is hard to do, and on the outside my face smiles, and the encouraging and appropriate words come out, but on the inside I cry just a little for the lost joys of being needed for everything, for that little girl with the big blue eyes who saw me as flawless and amazing and capable.

Some homework from me at last...

Hello Ladies,
I am emerging from my lovely vomit hued cocoon of work and readjusting to married life to fill everyone in on the daily soap opera. I can't remember when last my life felt "normal", can't remember my last unmedicated day, can't figure out where bliss became chaos and I became a slightly shorter and less attractive version of the incredible hulk. Running the risk of offending pretty much everyone else on the planet, how is it that my "new mother" friend can complain constantly about how hard her 9 month old is, how difficult her life is since having him and how she is run ragged? She hasn't worked in just over a year, she isn't studying, she has a maid and a wealthy husband, she laughs about how incensed she is when some audacious moron visits her before 15:00 and expects her to answer the door... Yes, I am PMSing, but is she absolutely insane?
I know its all relative, or at least, the reasonable garden gnome buried deep in my concious brain does, but the selfish bad day gremlin wants to rip her head off and stab out her eyes with a highlighter.
One...Two...Three...Four...Five...Six...Seven...Eight...Nine...Ten.
Still not calm.
Rinse, Repeat?

We recently got to four, and, after giving myself a healthy pat on the back for surviving working [and as close to single as one can get while wearing a wedding ring] motherhood thus far, I had a great moment a few weeks back where I realised that we had finally escaped from the fire eating goblin known as the "terrible two's", she may still be cheeky as hell but this is about as close to human as she has gotten to date. I can have a conversation with her now, and "why" actually has a purpose beyond switching on the smoke button hidden behind mommy's ears. The darling husband has arrived home, for good this time. She is still wetting the bed, still climbing into my arms in soaked pyjamas at 3 am for snuggles. I still get pee'd on four nights out of five, she still has nightmares, she still has abandonment issues, the scientologist raised husband is still refusing to consider medication even though she bounces off the walls, sleeps 4 hours a night and literally grits her teeth so hard she has begun to grind them down out of focus frustration, but you know what? Four is fantastic, the little pyjama clad monster who begs for seven bedtime stories also sings to me on Saturday mornings to get me up, sits on my lap while I go through article ideas, tells me my label samples are beautiful, and begs me to print Marilyn Monroe Benday Dot designs on all her old clothes before I make charity drops "so the things are beautiful for those other kids"
Little miss "new mother" can have her issues, she can have her maid to take her new baby so she can sleep all day, and a husband to sleep in the spare room with snookums all night, I have a child who knows that everything I do is for her, that when mommy is a little too tired for round eight of Peter Rabbit, it's real, and all round - I think I do okay.

news on sweets

no news isn't always good news, that is a fact... omg... i need happy pills... sigh... i know everybody always warns that it's difficult raising kids... but hells bells this is just ridiculous... i had no clue it could be this difficult... i feel like the baddest mommy ever... i screamed like a whore this morning... it wasn't pretty and I'm disgusted in myself... argh... tomorrow tomorrow i love you tomorrow... it's only a day away... hopefully tomorrow will be better... i keep telling myself that... that, and the fact that one of these days the kids have a holiday coming up...i just don't know how to be a decent mom at the moment... so yeah it's going like shit on that front at the moment...

other news... kay's new shrink wants to put him on Concerta... it's the newer version of Ritalin... good news?... i don't think so... i know it's the right thing to do... but giving my consent to put my 12 year old son on mind altering drugs, schedule 6 medicine... kind of freaks me out just a tiny little bit...

so there... that's my news... it sucks but I'll get there... i don't have a fucking choice do i...

The Winner

is thus Angel. For 'Raising Damien'. On account of how you other mommies haven't pulled finger. Badness, I tell you.

Angel, your blingy badges are to be designed for you this week. Keep an eye out in your email for more details.

Bad Mommies: new homework.

Topic: tell us what you and your spawn have been up to lately. News, funnies, pics, rants, eltters, anything. C'mon - this blog is far tooo quiet!!

The Baddest of a Pretty Bad Bunch

So I like to think I'm pretty bad.

I like to think I'm pretty hardcore. But a soggy, toothless smile from my 6 month old son totally melts my cold heart.

It was, as most of you know, an unplanned pregnancy. I'd previously thought I was pro-abortion. Turns out, I was mistaken. Sometimes I regret that choice. Other times not.

They say that becoming a mother teaches you patience. I say not. I'm no more patient than I was before, I've just learnt to put someone else before myself. I still have no patience for anyone else. There's none left after The Kid.

I've learnt not to sweat the small stuff. So he wants to suck his dummy? So what. Parting him from it is a problem to worry about in the future. Not today. So he wants to watch TV? So what. It gives me a bit of time to go for a smoke, have a shower. I'm okay with that.

I used to be horrified at parents who pulled funny faces and made funny noises at their babies in public. Now I dont care who sees me do it. Why? Because it makes him laugh. And that's worth all the public humiliation in the world.

My life hasn't turned out exactly the way I planned. Most of the time, I'm oaky with that. While all my friends get up in the morning and get dressed for a day in court, I get up and stay in my pjyamas. I get dressed in the afternoon, before The Boyfriend gets home. They have briefcases and business suits, I have nappy bags and playsuits. Their work day ends when they leave the office, mine begins when I put The Kid to bed, and I head upstairs to hit the textbooks and law reports.

I work on my thesis while The Kid plays at my feet. I cook dinner while reading law journal articles and playing with The Kid. I can type out notes while giving The Kid a bottle. I can change a nappy while he's on my lap. I dont mind when he vomits on my papers or chews them. My life is my baby. My friends' lives and babies are their jobs. My baby is my life, and my job.

I used to think being a stay at home mother was a cop-out.A way of getting out of working. I now know that it's the hardest work there possibly is. And there's no pay, and little recognition. One day in an entire 365day year is nowhere near enough to acknowledge what we do.

I've learnt that being a 'bad mommy' doesn't mean you dont care. Or that you're really a bad person. Sometimes it's what your kid needs. Letting them drink the bathwater, eat grass and suck the carpet is not the end of the world.

In fact, it's only the beginning. And while my kid is learning how to be a kid,

I'm learning how to be a mommy.

Albeit a bad one...

Deadline Extension

Since all you bad mothers, myself included, have failed to pull finger and enter the competition, the deadline has been moved to the last day of the month.

I know you're all waiting for other people to post examples so you can get some inspiration.

SO I'll be posting mine shortly.

And dont forget to read Angel's below.

Pull yourselves together.

Do you need more incentive?