Archive for July, 2012

Jul 27 2012

Did you know this blog is wicked?

If ever I feel like maybe I don’t have anything interesting to say, and that no one likes me, all I have to do is open up my comments spam and let the loving words of the spambots reassure me that yes, I am awesome and helpful. I do get the normal just walls of text advertising male enhancements or fake passports, but mixed in with all of them are marvelous complimentary spams such as:

“Hey sweetie from a young womanfan contunue the wicked blog”
“salutations from across the world. excellent blog I must return for more.” (Yes. YOU MUST.)
“I adored your helpful words. excellent stuff. I hope you produce more. I will carry on watching” (Knowing this is a spam bot, the ‘I will carry on watching’ line is a little scary. Will this spambot evolve into an all-seeing AI, as featured in the craptastic movie “Eagle Eye”?)
“Very interesting info!Perfect just what I was searching for!”

Tonight, I’m solo parenting The Boy, because The Man is out watching “The Dark Knight Rises”. Solo parenting at night is easy, because The Boy has started wanting to go to bed at 8 PM, and he generally sleeps until between 3:30 AM and 5:00 AM. That’s when it gets tricky, because sometimes he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. It’s hard to communicate “This is not play time, this is sleep time!” to a 5 1/2 month old. He doesn’t care that it’s 4:45 AM, a truly ungodly hour that I would prefer not to meet in a concious state.

My dad was just up for a visit, and he stayed here for a few nights, which he’s never done before. The Boy took to him really well, and vice versa. They are buddies.

I really should try to sleep. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. We have to be three places, and they are not places that are close to each other. I hope The Boy is up for this, because if he’s not, it’s really going to suck.

(On a side note, I made these brownies tonight. They are currently setting up in the fridge. I really hope they live up to the hype. I mean, if you call something “Crack Brownies”, they better be amazing).

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Jul 09 2012

I don’t even…

Published by under Parenting,The Boy

I saw something in the grocery store today that made me glad that we’ve decided that The Boy will be an only child.

I was pushing my cart toward the food side of the store. Coming toward me was a family consisting of the mother, an older boy (about 14), a girl (about 12) and a younger boy (about 10). The mother was out in front, the kids trailing behind. The kids were moving quickly, half walking, half running, the oldest boy in the lead. The girl tried to cut in front of her brother, saying something to him as she passed. Suddenly, the older boy reached out and gave her a shove. Her feet went out from under her and she cracked her head on the floor. As she started to cry, the mother turned around and saw the commotion. As she turned back, the girl got to her feet. The mother walked up to the older boy.

Mother (curtly): What happened?

Older Boy (sullenly): She called me fat.

Mother (to the girl, who is now on her feet, but still crying a little): Are you all right?

Girl: Like YOU care.

Mother (angrily, to older boy): I should kick your butt right here in the store. What is wrong with you?

At this point, I was able to move past the whole scene and go on my way, but it made me think. What are the dynamics of that family that the oldest boy thinks nothing of shoving his sister to the ground for calling him a name? He wasn’t a young kid; he was almost high school age. Yeah, she called him fat (and he was fat, but then again, so was the girl, and so was the younger boy…and so was the mom), but that’s not really worth being knocked down over. And the girl quite accurately called the fact that her mom didn’t seem to care if she was hurt or not, since the mother spent all of five seconds looking at and talking to the child who was in actual pain, choosing instead to focus on the older boy. And during all of this, the younger boy was off to the side, pretty obviously trying not to be noticed.

Now, I’m not going to judge the mom. I have no idea what’s actually going on there, day to day, and what she’s dealing with. Maybe it was a bad day. Maybe that girl has a history of crying wolf over injuries and the mom had no way of knowing that this time, she was actually hurt. Maybe the girl is the bully and the boy finally snapped. Who knows the truth? Not me. But, like I said, it made me think. And what I said to The Boy after we were clear of the scene was “Aren’t you glad you won’t have any brothers or sisters?”

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