Chained for life

Technology and the Internet have just proved that it would be virtually impossible for me to ditch my kids forever.

Early Bird

Saturday mornings made me wish I could get away with spiking the kids breakfast with Jack Daniels. Their bodies are designed with some sort of mechanism that wakes them up earlier on Saturday than on school days. I call it "Up Syndrome". And it's awful. Waking me up at 5:45 on a Saturday, trying to use their cuteness for evil, evil things like asking me to make them pancakes, taking them to the park, or worse, much worse, putting together the Pig Chef puzzle.

From Resentful Mom

To catch a cheat

I found out today why we can't send the kids to camp. The bank called me today to ask me about a charge on our account. It was for $568 at a place called Jewels Spa and when I asked what it was for the customer service rep said "Couples massage".

It sure wasn't me having that couples massage. Time to investigate our finances. Secret style. I may have stumbled upon my way out.

From Resentful Mom

Role Playing

I think Bekka’s going down the dark road of RPG(role playing games). She’s been putting spells on the food at dinner and giving me intense stares, like she’s cursing me. She's also been calling me "King Swineheart". Fearing this was a reference to my weight, I did a marathon session on the elliptical machine (1 hour 46 minutes). While excreting an insane amount of sweat to Fergie, I decided that I was taking her actions too personally. When I got home, I googled "King Swineheart". King Swineheart is a villain in a RPG game called "Fuzzy Heroes". How could an overweight girl who loves stuffed animals not love this?

This is not really my fault. Yes, I let her eat and eat until she was given no choice but to join the only social group that would accept her – D&D kids. But I thought the worst that could happen would she would join flag brigade. This I will not take responsibility for. She's her own person, she makes her own decisions. It would be like holding Ted Bundy's mother accountable for his murders? No?

Baby remember my name

Cody saw a commercial for the Children's Theater Company in Minneapolis and is adamant on going to their summer camp program. I want him to do it because I can probably enroll him in the day sessions for the whole summer, I can probably talk Bekka into doing it, and then I can drive to Minneapolis every day!! Which means I can see Tyler everyday. It would be similar to what it would be like if we were married, it's like a test run. And, I haven't been able to see him since Brian got back, which is killing me. Especially after how he took care of me after my accident. But after talking to Brian it's clear he'll be giving me the old money excuse (classes are $300 a week for the day classes), saying we can't afford it this year, despite the fact that nothing has changed financially for us and last year we sent the kids to Swift Nature Camp which cost us about $4K per kid, so I don't see how this is different. Except with arts camp, the kids are at home to buffer any interaction I may have to have with Brian.

Belated Mother's Day

Since I was injured the weekend of Mother's Day and Brian was in Asia, he and the kids decided to take me out last night. We went to, ugh, Macaroni Grill, Bekka's choice, and once one of the kids decides where to eat, even thought it's a celebration for you and you being a mom and doing a lot of work and making sure they don't die and giving them food so they can sustain life, and make sure they're clean when they go to school so you don't get a call and they don't get made fun of, and you take them to all their after school activities and you wake up when they want you to even though you're really tired, when they want a certain kind of food, you can't tell them "no". You just have to eat your Penne Rustica and pretend that you're happy when inside all you wanted is a simple, authentic bolognese sauce made by someone who is preferably of Italian descent.

From Resentful Mom

Wrongsentful Mom

A 23 year old woman in New Mexico suffocated her 3 year old son, brought him back to life with CPR, then changed her mind and suffocated him again. Then she buried him beneath the sand of a nearby playground. When asked why she did it, Tiffany Toribio said she did not want him to grow up with no one caring about him, the same way that she had grown up where nobody had cared about her. Which is awful. However, according to CNN.com, family members indicated that she did not express the typical love of a mother for her child.

This got me wondering if I was capable of killing my own children. Don't worry, when push comes to shove, I wouldn't be able to murder them. If I wanted to be done with them I would leave them in the dead of the night. But it's kind of like the psychological freak out you go through when you are standing near a ledge or a drop off and your mind says "JUMP" and you get scared that you just may jump. I get scared that I could, one night, just be so frustrated that I drown them or put a pillow over their tiny faces. I won't. Even though they may have been brought into this world under false pretenses, they deserve the chance to live their life. It's theirs to have, not mine to take. Plus, I would go to jail. But I'd bet you'd be hard pressed to find someone whose never thought about killing another human being. And if you're a lady with murderous tenancies (I'm looking at you Tiffany), of course you're gonna go for your kids who are small, defenseless, and trust you.

Injurycation (pt. 6) - Percodan

My prescription ran out today and with it went the deep seated desire to talk about my sister and get philosophical. To catch you up, I am at home, wearing a leg brace and walking with a cane, putting as little weight on my right leg as I can so it can heal. No repairing necessary. When Tyler dropped me off at home we sat in the car for three hours and talked. I sat in the backseat since I couldn't bend my leg, so it was a little awkward, but really nice. He told me kids weren't a deal breaker. "A deal breaker for what?" I asked. He said "You know" then giggled like a school girl. Then I giggled and added "They're a deal breaker for me". It was like we were in high school again. But this time I'm not breaking up with him.

Brian comes home tomorrow. Not early because of my injury, just cause his assignment in Asia is over. We already have plans to go camping for Memorial Day weekend. I wonder if he even realizes I can't bend my leg. Or maybe he does.

Oh boy.

Injurycation (pt. 5) - Reasons Why

Saturday morning I woke up with a killer knee brace and Tyler asleep in a cot, next to me. Sometimes it can ruin a person to watch them sleep. Drooling on a pillow, snoring, mouth agape, farting. But Tyler sleeps like a doll. Hands under his pillow, head facing me, mouth closed, taking quiet, purposeful breaths. Beautiful.

And sad. Sad because things are so very complicated. And it's all my fault. Everyone's in this mess because of me and my heroic ideas of what a spouse and family should be. Well, to be honest, it's really my sister's fault.

When I was 13, my mother and I returned from voice lessons to find my 17 year old sister Juliette tied to a dining room chair and shot execution style. You can watch as many crime shows as you like. You can not recreate the complete shut down your body experiences when you find someone you love dead. You instantly feel responsible, like there's something you could have done.

My father came home later from his office in downtown Chicago and upon hearing the news, instantly went to work on a heavy drinking problem. The Winnetka police were quickly replaced by the FBI, but ultimately they couldn't build a case against anyone and they were on to the next big crime. My family quickly dissolved after that. My father buried himself in his work at his engineering firm and his bottle at Meier's Tavern and my mother, well, she married another man. It must have been hard to look at my father. Juliette looked just like him.

In college I thought this was my chance to make my own stable family. I chose Brian, who I thought would be reliable, and for the most part I was right. And together we would make a safe, even tempered life for us and some kids. A nice, steady, uneventful, safe life. But I realized, after Tyler came back into my life, that stability is dysfunctional. Nothing in life is stable and to think so is delusional. And what you sacrifice for "stability" is happiness, excitement, and change. I built this prison accidentally, with my own good intentions. And maybe one day, I can break it down. But for right now, I have to live in in-between land.

Injurycation (pt. 4) - Substitute Mom

Before I go on about my wonderful experiences with Dr. Brent (the preferred greeting of the good doctor), let me clarify something. I am not racist. I don’t think that that Dr. Goodarzi was a bad doctor because he is Indian. I think he’s a bad doctor because he’s over worked and can’t muster any bedside manner or diagnosis because he’s been treating people for 6 days straight without sleep. Dr. Brent is not a good doctor because he is white. He’s a good doctor because he’s at a hospital that runs like a well oiled machine and has staff that can assist him or a colleague who can relive him. That being said, the fact that one is Indian and one is white may have contributed to why one is at a well run hospital and one is at an over budget one. That is someone else's racism. Not mine.

That being said, Dr. Brent was amazing!! Not only was he handsome (is there a rule that handsome guys only hang out with other handsome guys?) but really laid back. He actually hugged me and said he had heard so many great things about me. The great things probably not including my marriage to another man and my children who I leave every Friday with a crappy neighbor so I can go to a Spanish class I am not enrolled in so I can spend romantic time with his friend Tyler.

At any rate, he was super cool and said that he wanted to schedule me for surgery to check out the damage. Which meant I would have to stay in the hospital overnight. Which meant that I couldn’t pick up my kids who probably, under the normal rules of society, should be dealt with. Now I don’t know if it’s because Tyler’s in advertising or maybe that he’s all around amazing, but that guy sprung into action. I guess sometimes when clients come to town, TadWare will set up nanny’s for their kids. This is a relatively newish thing they’ve done since the 90’s since there are a lot more women running their own companies (can you imagine the freedom? You could pay someone full time to watch your kids during the day while you go to an office and do something you love. Or at least something that makes you a lot of money!). These "modern ladies" apparently like to travel with their kids but don't want to deal with their kids. It's some sort of mom badge of honor that they can do it all, at least with the help of several other people. Anyway, he called his secretary and had her set up someone for my kids. So while I am being admitted for surgery, a nice stranger named Sally Werman is driving to Kathy’s house to pick up the kids and take them home to explain what happened, make them dinner and tuck them in bed. I hoped that maybe she'd be in her thirties, married but infertile - just the right kind of lady to fall head over mom heels in love with two kids. And they would fall in love with her too and when I got out of surgery Cody and Bekka would be standing at my bedside asking me if they could go live with Ms. Weman. And I'd say "Of course! You deserve to be happy too!".