Saturday, September 12, 2009

what do I say to that?

I just had the following conversation with my seven year-old son (who is going on eight in a few months):

Him : Phew, that was easier than I expected.

Me : What?

Him : Dealing with Julia. (sounding like he is more like 7 going on 38).

Me : Oh... okay... Um, Stu, thanks for telling Julia that you were down here, but you know it's Mama's job to deal with Julia right? I'm the grown-up.

Him : Well yeah...

Me : Stu - do you feel like you have to act more grown-up when Dad's away?

Him : (non-committal noise)

Me: Stu? You don't have to be a grown-up you know. I appreciate when you help me with things and try to get along with Julia, but you don't have be a grown-up.

Him : Yeah, I know... it's just that... when Dad's away and Nana's not here I feel like I am the Dad replacement. You know, so I have to act like an adult.

Ouch.

I explained that he doesn't have to but I am not sure he believes me. I gave him a really good answer about being a kid and that Mama was the adult etc etc etc... and he kind went "uh-huh..."

Then again, he just tattled on her. Sigh. The bickering is what I would LOVE to have them stop.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I have a rock in my bra

No seriously, I do.

It's a blue aventurine crystal that is an Aries stone (I'm an Aries). It is a small, lovely, blue stone with soft smooth rounded edges. The best place to carry it is close to your heart - thus the whole bra-stuffing. It is supposed to help me through what is going on in my life right now.

Honestly? I think it's a bit weird, and after my mum and I had left the store I said "You know who I've turned into? Mrs R!" referring to the mother of a close friend who went through a phase with crystals and such and we all thought (with much respect) that she was one sandwich short of a picnic when she did all this stuff 20 years ago.

Hmmm. Don't you just love it when you think you know about something and it comes back to bite you in the ass?

Sorry Mrs. R.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

explanation required

My sweet daughter woke up at 3:15 this morning.

I was up with her until 5:45, when I succumbed the heady combination of sleep deprivation/sinus infection and sent her in to her father and passed out in her bed.

Marc and Stu left for work/school at 7:30 and Marc put the tv on for her. No I am not proud, but hello, I figured it was one of the only ways we were going to survive today. I crawled back into my own sweet bed and passed back out until 9:15.

She is bright and chipper and talking a mile a minute. She has been up since 3:15. I on the other hand who was only awake for 2 1/2 hours of that time feel like I've been hit by a truck.

How exactly does this work?

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Day Two

2:30 found me holding me breath again.

When I dropped Stu off this morning he suddenly bordered on whimpery, half-heartedly dragging the bag of extra school supplies he had to take in. It was TOO HEAVY he whinged, and he couldn't possibly carry it up to his 3rd floor classroom. The bag contained 4 packs of loose-leaf and two kleenex boxes, hardly the two tonnes of bricks he was intimating it felt like.

But he came out smiling. His day was great. And while I have yet to get many details (besides the fact that two boys asked him, one right after the other heaven forbid if he'd had toast for breakfast... I am still working out what the problem there is) I am going to chalk this up to another successful day.

Marc, Julia and I went for an interview with her teacher. Who spoke to us for 35 minutes instead of the 20 minutes allotted. Who not once made me want to go home and take Valium (as opposed to crazy lady from last year). I think this is going to be am uch better environment for my kids.

Phew.

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Alien abduction

Stuart started his new school today. I have a wicked sinus infection (started antibiotics at lunch) so I was pretty much dreading it.

All the way there in the car he said he was nervous.

We got there and he told his teacher he was nervous. She leaned over and whispered "You know what? I'm a little nervous too." (I think I might love her).

The three of us went to pick him up after school. I know my brain is not clear in this current state of sinus crisis, but I think I was pretty much terrified of him coming out the door of the school. I am pretty sure I sprinted over to where he was as soon as he walked out of the door.

Me: Hey Stu! How was your first day?

Him: GREAT!! (he was grinning and almost jumping up and down)

Me: That's great! (Inside voice piped up with "did funny little green men take you away on a spaceship and brain wash you?" but I kept it to myself - barely)

Later I tested the waters again...

Me : So - do you still hate school?

Him: NO!!!! (again with the grinning...)

It wasn't perfect (someone called him Stuart Little but the teacher noticed he didn't like it so she asked everyone not to call him that... and he is satisfied that it has been dealt with...). But it was great. And I know we've still got a long way to go, but can I tell you that...

To my knowledge, my son has NEVER come out of school grinning and saying his day was great. Certainly not in the past two years, that's for dang sure.

Fingers crossed people. But I may be able to exhale for the first time since the 4th of June when I realized that his little world was messed up. Phew.

Oh and in other news - Stu's best friend who moved off our street but was still going to go to the old school for one more year? He changed schools too. Want to know who didn't change schools? The BULLY. He's back. I wasn't having any doubts about our choice, but for once it's nice to know I got my ducks lined up and made the right decision.

Exhaling....