The Great, The Frustrating, and the Icky

So obviously I am still trying to balance this new blog and Facebook updates for work with regular life here. It’s been going good at work … same ole same old. It’s work, who am I kidding. Anyway, I had promised another entry last week that I didn’t get to do. And since them other stuff has occurred so I’m going to try to do a mini-novel blog entry.

The Great – He Loves Me
It was a regular afternoon. My fiancé and I were lying on the couch watching some sports. Younger Boy came out of his room and walked over to us and then he melted my heart.

YB: I love you Crys *gives me a hug*
Me: I love you too YB *tries not to cry tears of happiness*

If anything it has been one gesture that has helped me to smile. It has also been the gesture that I try to resort to when I get frustrated with Younger Boy for his daily antics. Another love he bestowed on me was when he told me:

YB: Crys, I love you with my Thomas trains.

What does it really mean? I have no idea. But that kid is a huge Thomas fan. So I kind of associated it to be a good thing. Anyway, he has given me some great warm fuzzies to hang on to.

The Frustrating – Kindergartner Homework Meltdown
Middle Boy has had quite the crying fit over homework the last two days. His homework is getting a little harder and is requiring him to think and process what he’s learning instead of just writing letters and numbers. He’s doing a good job, but now that he’s being required to do things a bit more challenging he’s getting frustrated. And even more frustrating is that instead of asking for help and using his words to explain what he’s doesn’t’ understand he just sits there for forever and then goes into crying fit mode. Crying Fit Mode is where he does nothing but cry, he can’t make himself stop, he can’t think straight and then his whole body gets involved and he gets hot and clammy, and he feels nauseas and his nose start running like crazy.

It is the most frustrating thing in the world to me right now. It started out of no where (at least it hasn’t occurred since he figured out how to read). Both my fiancé and I are here to help him if he needs it. But he needs to learn to ask. Yesterday was not a great day. I finally started a luke warm shower and told Middle Boy to get in there because he seriously needed to cool off.

Anyway, it resulted in a great argument and tension between me and my fiancé. He couldn’t understand why I was so angry and I, of course, was trying to hold it all in and not lose my lid. That of course didn’t work and I ended up pulling my fiancé behind our closed door to tell him exactly why I was so frustrated. It of course stemmed from a couple of things that had been irritating me but being sort of yelled at/talked sternly too with the excuse of “He’s sick and he’s six” really blew my lid. Especially since 1) he wasn’t sick, he worked himself up and 2) I’m aware he’s six but that doesn’t give the excuse not to ask for help and to go into crying fit mode all of a sudden out of no where. I topped it off with the “And it’s not easy raising someone else’s kids, especially when their mother brings them back six steps each time!” Oh yeah that was the cake topper than finally reduced me to tears. I think it usually is, but I really need to learn not either blog more or to stop bottling stuff up inside … or perhaps a combination of the two?

Anyway, we patched it up. Middle Boy cooled off and finished his homework, and today we’ll see how it goes when it comes to homework time.

The Icky – Jane
That says it all right there I’m sure. Do you all remember how Jane just can’t seem to be responsible when it comes to her children? Like how she called us on our trip down to So Cal and was obviously pissed off that we weren’t going to turn the car around and come take Middle Boy off her hands when he puked all over the place. Or like the time she wouldn’t make a decision regarding if a recovering Younger Boy should go over to her house or not and put the decision in his 3-year-old hands. I could go on, but those are examples I know I’ve blogged about.

So down to the point, Jane’s aunt’s cat died. Now don’t get me wrong, I would be very sad if one of my cats died. What made me feel so icky about this is that Jane came down to spend the day with her aunt after her cat died to help console her.

Should this have bothered me? Maybe – Maybe not. But it did. It bothered me that she would come down (and I can’t figure out how she got out of work because it was on her scheduled work day) to spend time with her aunt whose cat just died, but she couldn’t just take care of her children or make a responsible thoughtful and caring decision on their well being.

I don’t know how she reacts to the boys when they do something at her house (like throw up, smear poop all over her bathroom walls, or anything else they might do). But I do know that she gets all feisty and angry when my fiancé comes to get them. Like he asked them to puke on her carpet or smear poop on her walls. And do not have any worries; it’s not keeping me up at night. But it was one of those things that I just was astounded over.

Whatever, right?