mamikaze

Back by popular mental health demand, I will be using this blog as my brain dump. so much going on in my head and home that I have to spill it out. Mike is going to be in Japan for awhile. I know I’m not supposed to announce that stuff on the interwebs but I must. I haven’t played single parent for a year. His flight to Tokyo is almost to the day when he returned home from San Diego last year.

I am not dealing with it well. Just as the Effexor XR 150 mg has begun to improve my mood, this stress is making my anxiety bloom in an ugly way. He has noticed my hundred yard stare. I have been spending more time doing nothing on the sofa. I have been raising my voice more often. I have hardly helped him pack. His clothes aren’t washed or fold or packed and I take him to the airport in 48 hours. I have been eating Xanax like candy. Candy that makes me drowsy.

She doesn’t like going to school any more. She want to stay home everyday. We’re trying to help her cope and improve her skills but it’s not enough. 8 months of occupational therapy have helped but she’s got a long way to go.

She is such a smart kid. She has potential oozing out of her but she cannot focus it. We’re trying to get her more help, but we’ve been turned down over and over. “Borderline” has become a dirty word. She’s easily distracted and disrupts the students around her. I don’t want her to become the bad kid in the class. Her teacher this year is outstanding but next year’s is known for her low tolerance for wiggles and giggles.

Today she asked if she can do school at home. She’s bored with school and is tired of not fitting in. When I told her that I wanted her to finish second grade before making her way in the world, she cried.

Washington Virtual Academy, here we come.

Last night was our first 4H meeting. We are in a brand new group full of young kids and directed by a man who has been raising rabbits since he was in preschool. Fluffy has been looking forward to this since we adopted Bunny in July.

A few weeks ago, we went to a rabbit workshop and learned that our little cutie, Oreo is a male. It was only a mild shock as we had suspected it but it’s very difficult for a layperson to sex a rabbit. Fluffy was thrilled to be able to use “rabbit penis” in a sentence. Hooray for expanding vocabulary.

The “multiplying like rabbits” cliché is very true. They can begin mating at just a few months of age. Pepper and Oreo had been cagemates for months. My uneducated estimate of there age is about 5 months. Both of these bunnies are sexually mature now and had to be separated immediately.

They were so sad. Especially, Oreo (the male), he is very friendly. I was worried when I merged the two females because it is not unusual for two female rabbits. I guess that’s true with most females. Bunny made it very clear to Pepper who’s the boss.

Now the girls are bonded and poor Oreo is on his own. He runs to greet whoever comes up to his cage. He always asks to come out. We just can’t keep him. He needs to have a cagemate and we cannot afford another mouth to feed. Me and my big dumb mouth had to mention this to Fluffy on the way home from the 4H meeting last night.

She is distraught. She cried the whole drive. She admitted that she knows it’s best for everyone but it makes her very very sad to know he needs to go. I expect many more nights if these tears until we rehome our little buddy.

Fluffy is a highly sensitive girl like her mother. She conscientious to a fault and her fears go down to her core. A tiny yappy dog up the street bared it’s teeth at her this summer. she hasn’t been able to walk past that house since. She doesn’t like to talk about her feelings. Verbalizing emotions often causes and eruption that leads to crying and results in a long-lasting exhaustion.

Just before winter break, the school bus noticed engine trouble and returned to the school. The kids had to wait 30 minutes for the transportation department to get a new bus up to them. When she arrived home, she told me curtly that “it was not fun.”

I noticed last week that she was bringing a teddy bear in her backpack. When I inquired she told me casually “it’s in case the bus breaks down.” Whoa. I quickly assured her that if she was uncomfortable riding the bus that she just needed to tell me and I would drive her to school. She shrugged it off. Her brown Build-a Bear was enough security. I doubted it but let her continue. I know she needs to be the one to speak her needs.

She spoke of them Tuesday night. After we were all in bed, she came to me and stated “Mom, I’m not comfortable riding the bus anymore.” It was my reflex to talk to her about it right that second. Thankfully my motherly intuition overrides.

I gave her a second to speak more and she did not. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it in the morning and she heartily replied “yes.” I am sure that talking about it  at bedtime would have caused insomnia and nightmares.

The next morning was an awards assembly. The school focuses on a different character trait each month. Fluffy was recognized at school for January’s theme of respect. Her teacher says she is a very thoughtful girl who is kind to her friends. I am very proud of her and she is proud of herself. We had to rush to get ready. She was bubbling with excitement. Also, she didn’t notice that she would be going in front of the school with a rat nest of hair. We’re still working on personal hygiene. Curly hair is a wicked curse.

She beamed with pride up on the stage. She told all of her neighborhood friends about her award. Mike made a big deal about it when he got home.

I am going to enlist the school counselor’s advice for overcoming this fear. I’m not in a hurry. I don’t want her feeling anxious every morning and afternoon. Even though I don’t like getting my ass out of bed and in the minivan at that hour, if driving her is the best option for now, I’ll do it. But as always, your suggestions are welcome.

I would never get a shower in the morning with out children’s television. I can turn on Wonderpets and have a guaranteed 10 minutes to soap up.

It gets worse.

Our life has gotten to the point that I gauge our home schedule by which show is on.  I set the tv to Channel 41, Disney, when I go to bed. All I have to do is turn it on when Fluffy is ready for school. Two points for my mad sad mommy skillz.

Here’s a sample of my typical weekday:

• Fluffy gets up and gets ready for school
• I check her over for readiness
• I let Bear out of her room and flip on the tv. She watches Shaun the Sheep while I take Fluffy to the bus.
• I get back in the house and make us breakfast whilst Little Einsteins.
• Sing “Did the Monkey Mail come?” as I sit down on the coach with my coffee and toast.
• My Friends Tigger and Pooh signals log-in time.
• Work through Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
• Sometimes it’s Handy Manny, sometimes it’s Go, Diego, Go! It depends on how much Bear is getting into at the time. Sometimes I remember to give her a snack at this time. Or she goes and gets her own when I forget. Or she throws things at me that she wants to eat.
• Rush to the shower while Wonderpets is on. Imagination Movers makes me stabby. She usually comes in to get me when the first story is over. Nick Jr needs something like Ooh and Aah on Disney. The commercial break between stories makes Bear antsy. Do they really need to advertise the Smooth Away hair remover and AARP Medicare health plans during preschool shows?
• We have tuned into Dora the Explorer for 5 years now. Fluffy was obsessed from 2 to 5. She has passed that love to her little sister. Dora’s annoying voice and her obnoxious monky pal, Boots, are my cue to get Bear dressed for school.
• The little Chinese girl with her anime buddies of Ni Hao Kai Lan equal lunch time. The bus comes for her just as the show is ending.

Writing this out makes me feel like a lazy loser mom.

We were making a run to Fred Meyer. Fluffy had asked if she could have macaroni and cheese for dinner. I felt like indulging her. She loves the gooey deli macaroni and cheese. It worked for me. I have been in a mood. Mike’s been gone for two weeks. I have been living on caffeine and sugar. I am wiped out six ways from Sunday. I think the psychologists call this downcycling.

I was planning on picking up something for dinner, a treat for dessert and maybe a new movie for the kids. I brought in one shopping bag. The items on my mental list only needed one bag.

Note to self: don’t go to the store when you are weighed down my parenting guilt. It will cost you three times more than you expected.

Our cart quickly filled with Little Debbie snacks, bagels, frozen waffles, ice cream sandwiches and marshmallow cream. “Mom, you said we were going to make bread pudding.” Now we needed eggs, bread, sugar and milk. “Are we going to get ravioli for dinner? You promised.” Two bags of ravioli plus pasta sauce.

The whole time we are in the store, I am fighting off the Bear. She is determined to pull out treats out of the basket and throw them on the floor. She roars in laughter every time I stop her. Tapping her hand and telling her “NO!” has no effect. I resort to cuffing her hands in on of mine as I push the cart. If I let go, she whips around to make another go at the food.

After I determine we are not purchasing any moe food items, we head over to the electronics department. Fred Meyer is the O.G. of one stop shopping. On the way down the big aisle towards the movies, I get “Mom, when am I going to get new shoes?” Peter, Paul and Mary! The kid has impeccable timing. I try to tell her we will go out another day for shoes just as the shoe department comes into view.

“We can look here, the shoes are on sale.” I sigh and turn right to the shoes instead of right toward the movies. I have to park the cart and the Bear in the main aisle. It is too big and Bear is too wound up to try to squeeze it into the shoes section. She would have a heyday yanking shoes off the shelf and tossing them from her grocery cart perch. She is two steps away from us.

Fluffy and I make a beeline for the girls shoes. A nifty pair of New Balance are 50% off. Sweet. It’s our favorite brand and the discount makes them $22.00. We get them on her feet. I host an impromptu shoe-tying lesson. Push the toes, wiggles the toes, stomp your feet. Walk, run, are you sure they fit? You know the drill. It took about 4 minutes.

In that time, my darling Bear, helped herself to an ice cream sandwich. She tore open the box. She ripped the wrapper into twenty bajillion pieces. She was covered in chocolate cookie drool. Four freaking minutes! I shrieked in embarrassment. She looked at me with a face that clearly said “What? I was hungry.”

And people wonder why I never take her anywhere.