the real reason the seahawks won

i just want you all to know the real reason for the seahawks’ miraculous win, was because my daughter prayed they would.

and as soon as she said ‘amen,’ she immediately knocked on wood to avoid the jinx, therefore covering both religious and pagan rituals.

and that, dear readers, is how you raise a child.

luckysaid no one ever.

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dad vs mom

i am working a lot of hours right now, these hours are are usually between 12 am and 9 am.

hell’s hours.

when i get home, i try to take a 2 hour nap and then sleep 2.5 hours at night before work.

in other words, i am beautiful right now.

haggard

while napping this morning, emma’s school phoned saying she had just puked on herself and others during lunch.

there were 3 calls and 2 texts.

i left thinking i was the worst mother ever, my daughter was at school needing me and i was not there.

i got to school apologizing profusely for making them wait close to 45 minutes before i got there.

“we did not even know she was going to throw up, she was laughing right before and right after.”

that is just how emma rolls.

we found her laying down in the nurse’s office, giggling and listening to music.

i called the hubby, who happened to be almost to the high school to get emma because they called him when they could not get me, and wept my guilt over the phone.

“i am the worst mother.” i said while crying. “she had to wait, they could not get a hold of me because i was sleeping!”

we met at the house where i continued to lament and feel mom guilt.

“to tell you the truth,” the hubby said. “i was hoping it would have turned into a vomit fest.”

and there you have it, the crux of all things different about women vs men, mom vs dads, working mothers vs working fathers.

my scenario running through my head: death, destruction, weeping and wailing.

chaos

the hubby’s scenario running through his head: a puke fest worthy of a movie scene.

puke

i think it’s time i packed my guilt luggage and have a stay-cation in the hubby’s brain for awhile.

he should have come with an instruction manual.

my bear is roaring.

ben can go from 0-60 in seconds flat.

ben can be dancing at a school program, saying ‘bravo!’ while clapping and smiling and then suddenly dragging me along the hallway like a rag doll trying to get a 2 year old that was crying in a matter of seconds.

ben can have 4 adults trying to restrain and calm him….and win.

ben can smack me upside the head hard enough to make my ears ring simply because i took a bag of sunflower seeds away from him.

ben can be loving.

ben can be funny.

ben can be helpful.

ben can be so, so happy.

we have read and researched masses of behavioral methods.

we have him on meds that have helped up until now.

one does not hold their son in their arms and think ‘one day, you will be on anti psychotic medication and we will be concerned to go anywhere there might be little kids for fear of you wanting to hurt them.’

one does not expect that one day they will stand there and think ‘well, i know i can take punches and still stay standing, maybe i could win a few fist fights.’ after being hit by their son.

i want someone to come and tell me to do steps a,b,and c and you will get d. if you see triggers e,f,and g do step h and all will de-escalate.

i am grateful that i can still help him calm down and fearful of his size and the damage he can do before he calms down.

why can there not be an instruction manual that would answer every single question i have?

i want ben to be able to stay the happy, calm, content kid we know he is. i truly don’t feel he likes these episodes of complete anxiety and anger. i have seen his remorse afterwards and his exhaustion when it is done.

i want life to be easier for ben.

until then, i plan on watching a few more rocky movies.

rocky

this is ben’s man area. you can see all his movies, toy story characters, scene it games, and of course, a skeleton that he insists stays there given his past obsession with hotel transylvania.

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i sure do love me some benny bear.

parenthood has destroyed my marriage

we had one of the biggest fights in our marriage this last weekend.

a fight that left one of the spouses running for the door to get out and the other spouse on the toilet lamenting that fact that they just wished the other spouse would do the grocery shopping.

the spouse that wanted to run out the door was called back to fight, and the spouse that was on the toilet while speaking rather loudly through the mostly closed door, because since children, there are no closed doors in our house, finally met in the kitchen and had it out.

brawl

what calamity occurred that required a face-off?

one of the spouses bought cheese that was not on sale.

shock

yep, worse than adultery.

i had expectations of romance in my marriage. quiet evenings, visiting each other, restfulness, and all the other lies pictures show about marriage.

sleeping

yeah, that was shot to hell.

you know what i find sexy and romantic now? a bathroom that does not smell like urine.

clean

preferable cleaned by the hubby. when it is, he suddenly becomes people’s sexiest man alive.

we used to be able to go to dinner AND a movie.

now we can barely make it through one or the other.

we used to have conversations about the correct way to fold towels.

now i just say “move the clean clothes so you don’t sit on them when you use the couch.”

we have even discussed the possibility of one spouse having an affair with a millionaire just to save some money for school, sports, music, dentist, doctor, braces, medications, and whatever else fees.

you know who i blame?

children.

from what i can tell, not only do they cause their parents to fight over cheese that was not on sale because sleep deprivation has turned them into irrational beings, they seem to have made them gray, wrinkled, and sleep deprived.

what scares me the most?

they are thriving.

a trip to la la land

the bi-annual cleaning of ben’s teeth occurred today.

why bi-annual you ask? 

because when ben goes for a teeth cleaning, an anesthesiologist is required to make this magic happen. and he happens to have my teeth, which means he is missing enough to make gaps that insure no plague will build up anytime soon which allows more time in between cleanings. yay for genetically bad teeth.

as with all trips down la la land lane, ben needed more help than the average size individual. the nice doctor felt that one valium would be enough to put him in a calm, dazed state in which one can easily manipulate him.

wrong.

“this dude needs a lot.” the doctor said. “is he done growing?”

land

unfortunately for ben, the underestimation of valium led to the definite estimation of a shot right into his arm to take him out.

“whoa!” ben started when the inkling of realization dawned on him that the shot was indeed intended for his body.

the following quotes were heard by my daughter, who was sitting in the waiting room waiting, which is a rather prudent use of a waiting room.

“i wish, i wish……..this is going to be massive…….i wish.” ben kept saying. i don’t know if he thought the shot was going to be massive or his wish was going to be massive.

“THEY’RE COMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME!”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!”

with the valium, shot, and happy gas going, ben was still able to put up a fight when the actual i.v. was going in and he was still able to read the movie list and pick a movie to watch. poor thing did not know that in 5 minutes he was about to be knocked forcefully by heavy duty drugs into la la land.

“this is a strong kid.” the dr. said while trying to hold ben’s arm, and this was ben in slow-mo.

on the upside of the whole la la land adventure, ticket for one, ben did not once call me ursula mom.

ursula

 

 

a visit to china

our bear has been asking to go to china quite a bit lately.

i think it would be quite an adventure into the orient with an obsessed, movie-quoting-kid who thinks he speaks chinese.

i am just concerned he will be completely disappointed when he realizes china is not a mulan movie.

and shan-yu has not just invaded.

mulan

on a different note, we had a chicken fight while playing at the reservoir today.

you know, the game where you put people on each other’s shoulders and then proceed to try to drown each other.

the hubby and i were one team, chicka and bird was another.

i just realized they are named after fowls, they totally would have owned this fight had they realized this.

when bear heard ‘chicken fight!’ he immediately put his hands in chicken  beak position and proceeded to peck the hubby to death.

all i can say, i would have bet on this cock-fight and bear would have been the one i picked to win.

chicken

 

know the early warning signs

early intervention is the most important key when dealing with a life-altering diagnosis.

in order to get the early intervention, one must first know what to look for, and, if ever, to be concerned.

do you have a child that is angry because they got a 106% on a spelling test instead of 110%?

how about if they got 100% on a math test, but had to erase one problem and fix it, do they consider it a failure?

does your child make their own chore list and then cross off the chores as they complete it? all without you even asking them to?

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and, heaven help you if this is true, do they put smiley faces next to the clean chore?

if you are able to answer yes to any of these questions, you may have an overachiever.

this has shaken a lot of people up before, especially when they look at themselves, and their spouse, and the past 3 generations, only to realize there are no over-achievers in the gene pool.

this may cause the spouse to look to see if the mailman is an overachiever.

is desperate cases, the maury povich show has been contacted.

maury

this is often an under-reported, under-diagnosed problem that has been known to tear families apart.

stay strong, find a support group and make that overachiever your favorite child as they are the ones who will obviously be funding your retirement.

this public service announcement has been brought to you by the parent of an overachiever.

group