THis morning I asked my sitter to come a bit later. I didn't have to be at the job until 10; so figured I could take Max to the bus. We're getting ready but cannot find his shoe. Nope. Can't find it.
So I tell him he has to wear his sneakers. You would've thought I was telling him he had to wear foot clamps! We looked all over. I looked in the garbage, in my closet, in my dresser drawer - could NOT find that shoe.
So, finally after much anguish, tears, frustration and yelling - he puts on his sneakers and we get ready to go. Gwen (my sitter) comes in & as we're walking out the door we tell her about the trauma. The door shuts. She opens it: "I've found the shoe!"
Where was it?
"It was in the middle of your room."
Ok. Where's the other shoe?
Where you left it.
And the lost shoe was where!?!?
Sitting there. On the floor. In the middle of your room.
Today I took Max to the dentist for his first filling. Now, one thing you have to know about Max is he has little or no fear. He's a worrier, but has no fear. Meaning, I guess, he thinks about stuff... but when it comes to adventure, or the possibilty of pain... nope.
Also, these visits - doctor, dentist, whatever - are social visits. He has chats with all the people there, talks about stuff going on, whatever. He's totally relaxed.
So, at the last appointment I asked the dentist if they put the kids out, or what. He looked at me and said "DO NOT TELL HIM A THING!DO NOT call it a shot! DO NOT tell him anything!" Ok, ok, phew! My usual modus operandi (how often do you get to use THAT expression?!) is to prep my kids. Tell them exactly what to expect -- but I fugured this guy is a pediatric dentist.... so.....
So, we go in & Max is all "dum, de, dum... I'm at the dentist." And I'm all: "yikes, look at that tool, wonder what that's for! Look at that big needle!" (To myself!)
THe dentist comes in, Max puts on his shades (they give the kids sunglasses because of the overhead light) and they're ready. The dentist puts the initial numbing stuff on, and then tells Max he's going to feel a "tightness" and that his tooth will feel funny. I say nothing. He gets out the needle. I say nothing. He pokes Max. NOthing. He pokes again. Max: "ow!" I'm poised. Ready to pounce. But I'm looking at Max and he's still really totally relaxed. I don't see his feet moving, his hands clenching.... so I relax.
He gets the shots, they put this rubber sheet thingy around his mouth - that I've had before. That I HATE. But Max seems fine. Ok, well, he's fine... but MAN, I do so hate that rubber sheety thingy.... How could he not hate it? Isn't he miserable?!? Why is he ok?!?
So, they do it. I watch the drill going in, I see the tooth bleeding, and I see my son sitting there, totally calm, relaxed, and at one with the world.
So, the dentist finishes & then he starts to look at Max's loose tooth in the front. (This is a looose baby tooth that needed to come out - was sticking out in a funny way...) Now, it had been MY understanding that if this tooth did not fall out of it's own accord the dentist would take it out at the LAST tooth filling. Not the first. He gets some BIG plyers, and starts moving the tooth around. Max reacts: "OUCH THAT HURTS!" I am up. Out of the seat. Max is starting to squirm and is yelling. I"m about to belt the dentist & the tooth is out.
Max is fine. Wants to look at the bloody gauze, and it's SO COOL that the tooth has a really long root. And oh, the rubber sheety thingy - is SO COMFOTABLE. It's almost as comfortable as Squishy Pillow. (THe ultimate in comfort.)
So, what did I learn from this? 1) That my child is an absolutely separate person from me. 2) Gotta be quicker with my right hook.
What? Did you think that I wouldn't continue what I was going to write about last night? Do you think that I would let you, my blog reading public, do without?! Please!!
SO. Started off the day by waking up in bed totally alone. You know - hasn't happened too much lately. Between boyfriend & kids .... I've grown used to sharing the bed all the time. Like I used to. (ANd honestly: between you, me, and the millions of people who read this - I'm not such a good bed sharer. I believe the two words: "bed hog" have been used when talking about that. But we'll let that go for now.)
THere had been a problem. For a while. Of the kids wetting the bed when they'd come in. So I said that I would put a sign on my door saying "DO NOT COME INTO MOMMY'S BED UNLESS YOU STOP OFF AND MAKE FIRST." They thought that was so cool. It actually became a topic of conversation: Where would I put the sign? What would I make it out of? WOuld it stay up?
Who says we don't talk about interesting stuff here?
But what was I going to talk about?
I don't know - and now I have to get into the shower.
But don't worry - I'm not going anywhere (anywhere BIG that is) and I'll get back to you. And just think, this will add that extra bit of anticipation to your day!
So, I know I've mentioned that this it the big month - the one where we (X & I) split our accounts. I think I've also mentioned that he had told me that he would no longer take the kids every other Monday - just every Wednesday and every other weekend. THat it was too difficult for him to get home before 6:30 pm two nights a week.
In liu of that we had decided that I would have "wildcard" nights - two a month - where I could ask for an extra night.
Soooooo, I had asked the X a few times if he was going to go to an art show Nathan's school was doing - and if he was - which night. I wanted to invite my parents - and wanted to know when he was going & if he'd feel comfortable.
He never answered the question. Finally he told me to email him the info. I did. No answer. So, today I called him & left a voicemail message. He calls back. I answer the phone & he sounds BAD. I ask if he's ok. No, he's feeling "down." Oh no. This is how it always starts....
I ask him about the 17th - which is a wednesday - if he'd take the kids. He's taking them the 15th, because I"m going out w/some friends - but I'd like to have another night.
His first response: "I think I"m paying too much money for a guy who has his kids as often as I do."
Really. That's what he said. He sees them, what - MAYBE 10 nights a month?
Then he starts going off about how I need to make more, and if I've gotten a raise & how I make stuff up... and in the end I said to just forget the 17th.
Then I went out with my boyfriend (a term I don't really like, but have nothing else to replace it with). I tell ya' guys - it's pretty good. Yep.
It's a strange thing, now, dating again & the whole kids thing. Like when he stays over I'm always worried that the kids will come back before he leaves - or if he meets me in the morning to commute to work together - that the kids will see us as they're coming back from the X's, or on their way to school...
And it sucks to have it be like that. So...... furtive and all. And all I want to do is introduce them! Who wouldn't?!? I mean, I'm the person who has always introduced ALL my friends to each other. Half my friends are friends because they met through me! So of course I want to introduce all the important people in my life to each other.
And of course that begs the question: "How do you know when it IS the right time to tell them..." But I guess like most other things in parenting -- I'll just wing it.
You know, there really was going to be "other stuff" - because there's not a lack of stuff going on in this head - but I gotta stop now & relax & go to sleep.