Multifaceted Mama

Where does the time go?
Donovan decided on a college last night.  He is a future University at Albany – SUNY alumni!  That is the same college I went to as a freshman and 1 semester as a sophmore before I went into the Army.  He also got accepted into the Honors College, which sounds like something I would have LOVED to do when I went there.  Of course, it would have required that I actually have the mad crazy grades and ambition that the boy has!  Honestly, Albany wasn’t his first choice, but I truly think it is a better fit for him.  There is a huge variety of student organizations and things to get involved with, especially for someone like him that is so cause-oriented.  The school has so much to offer him that I just hope that he goes with an open mind and accepts it all.

Part of me is so jealous!  He is so much more ambitious and driven than I was at his age and he won’t squander his opportunites the way I did.  One of the only regrets I have out of life was that I didn’t get my degree.  I know that leaving college for the Army was the right choice for me, and I don’t regret for one second my time in the Army or the things I accomplished that I never otherwise would have been able to do.  But I totally squandered the opportunities I had while I was in the Army to finish.  I made a huge mistake in letting life get in the way and now I am almost 40 and feeling like a loser.  I am so insanely proud of him for being so focused and driven.

But there is a down side.  He is my first bird to leave my nest and that is killing me.  I can’t imagine my days without him around.  I am both looking forward to and dreading taking him to college that first day.  It doesn’t seem possible that it was 22 years ago that my parents and grandparents drove me to the same campus and I was the freshman.  How does the time fly so fast that my first born is ready to start his life on his own?  I am such an overly sentimental chick that the mere thought is enough to make me want to cry, from pure joy and pride and love, to sadness at my baby moving on, to regret that I squandered my own opportunities.

I also realized that when it comes time to take him to college, I am going to be alone.  It is one of those times that being an Army family truly sucks.  Corey is going to be in BNCOC when the time comes, so I am going to have to have my “first bird flies the coop” nervous breakdown all by myself.  He isn’t going to be there for the big day, to do all those “parenty” things that you do when your kid goes off on their own for the first time.  I just pray for Donovan’s sake that I don’t make a crybaby ass of myself!!

I love the Army and everything it gives our family, but there are definate downs, too.  Most of the time, I look at it as just a part of life, but sometimes the missed things are the things that memories are made from.  And sometimes I just want my rock around to keep me standing strong when I want to fall.  There is an oft-used saying in the Army, “The Army is the wife and I am just the mistress! Sometimes that bitch gets all the attention!“  Truer words have never been spoken!

Mood: confused  Weather: sunny, high of 82°

Clearly I wronged someone in a past life and my sins have come back to bite me in the ass in the form of boy children.  Sometimes I wonder if I have gone so far around the bend of insanity that I am actually speaking in tongues and don’t realize.  That would explain the inability for my man children to listen and retain any and all information imparted to them.  It’s either that or my children have either extreme selective hearing OR they have extremely early onset of Alzheimer’s.  Either way, I am going to lose what is left of my mind.  I’m sure of it.

Not too long ago, our Ice Age DVD broke so I bought both of the first two movies on sale at Amazon to replace it.  I got them the 3rd one, and a companion DVD, for Christmas and suddenly the first two are missing.  So when the middle two returned home from school, they were given the mission to find the movies.  Not only did they fail in their mission, they were discovered to have totally trashed their room, just days after they were supposed to have sanitized it.  That extended their mission from simply a search & rescue mission, to a full on field sanitation mission.  It was amazing just how long a 15 minute job can take when you are pissed at your mom.  Sucks to be them.

That was nothing, however, compared to the events of this morning and one Ka’lani Keller, age 12.  As most of you know, for the next few months, we have two soldiers staying with us, Jason and Trevor.  Well, Jason is having some medical issues that put the kabash on caffeine intake.  To me, that would be a fate worse than death since I thoroughly ♥ my coffee, but you do whatcha gotta do!  With that in mind (his medical issues, not my insane yen for coffee), I packed up my freshlypurchased caffeinated tea bags and bought a new box of Salada decaf ones, all for the daily gallon of iced tea that I also inhale.  Once the evil caffeinated ones were packed up, I put the storage container on the top of the cabinets, a place where no sane person would put anything they use with any regularity, since it would require wings for flying or climbing on counters to retrieve it.  Multiple times, I told young Master Ka’lani to forget they were there, to NOT use them, since he is the tea guru in the house.  “Okay, Mom” I heard several times in that exasperated voice that only a child can do so well.  I showed him the new box of Salada bags, in the same place where we always keep the tea bags for iced tea.  The caffeinated ones come in a big box so I have a smaller plastic container that I replenish from the bigger box as I use them.  That smaller box was sitting on the counter, empty, when Ka’lani went to go make fresh tea last night.  Apparently, the child had a massive brain fart, and couldn’t figure out why it was empty when it had been freshly filled the previous day.  So he came to me and asked.  I rem inded him of the new blue box of tea bags that he was supposed to use, and told him he could empty that into the plastic container, since it is airtight.  Nodding his head in acceptance and implied understanding, he turned and beat feet into the kitchen, about 7.5′ away.  This morning, I was standing at the coffee maker (next to where the tea bags are kept), pouring my first blood of life, when I noticed that the plastic box held not the decaf bags, but the caffeinated ones, the very ones I had told him NOT to use.  The blue box of decaf was still sitting in its spot, sealed, and the plastic container was right on top of it.  I questioned him,… loudly.  I got no useful answers.  But I have to ask myself several things,…

1. How did he not see the blue box of tea in the exact spot where the tea bags are always kept?
2. How did seeing the previously filled plastic box now empty not remind him?
3. And when it didn’t, how did he manage to forget in less than 30 seconds that I told him to use the blue box tea when he came and asked why the box was empty?
4. Why didn’t the fact that he had to climb on a counter and stand up on it to reach the caffeinated tea container not give him a clue that perhaps something was different?
5. Why didn’t the fact that the tea bags were in a totally different container and a completely different location clue him in?
6. And finally, WHAT THE HELL?!!!!!

And here ends my rant of the day!

Sometimes mothering boys is a lot like running an obstacle course.  You just never know what they are going to throw in your way.  Sometimes it is these crazy off the wall questions that no parenting book EVER covers.  Other times, it is just the insane things they do that leave you thoroughly confused, but that they think are completely rational and normal.  They are so self-assured at those times that it makes you wonder if it is YOU that is a nutter!  And sometimes it is the whining.  There is nothing that raises my blood pressure like kids whining, especially when there is less than no reason for it.  It makes me crazy,… um, craziER!  And then there are the mood swings and attitude.  I frequently have mothers of girls tell me I am lucky, having all boys.  Well, clearly those mothers haven’t lived with my boys.  Because, believe you me, they are supremely capable of all of the snottiness and attitude of an adolescent girl!

It is amazing to me how stupid they sometimes think I am.  I am 39 <gasp> and yet sometimes I am so stupid that I have to have the simplest of things explained to me.  In my career, I have spoken several languages, served a successful Army career, jumped out of airplanes, etc.  But I can’t manage simple things without a child present to explain it to me.  And yet, the moment they need something or need help, who do you think they turn to?  Me, the raging dumb ass.  It’s a paradox and I am confused!

The story opens with an early morning trip to an elementary school.  The Multifaceted Mama has to be there at 0720 for back to back parent-teacher conferences for her sons, Scott and Ty.  The meetings were set at this too early hour because the previous scheduled meetings had to be postponed due to a bout of the blahs by the Mama.  The Mama was running late that morning so she attended these meetings with having been fueled by the blood of life, aka coffee. 

Upon return to her domestic arena, the Mama began to suck down the coffee, truly wishing she could just inject via IV.  By the time the phone rang at 1245, she was fueled.  It was the school nurse from the very school that she had been at just hours ago.  Apparently, the Mama’s youngest son, in the midst of their annual Thanksgiving, decided to hurl.  So the Mama went to the school, armed with a bucket for the ride home, and picked him up.  He came home and spend the rest of the day in a pile of blankets watching ‘toons.

The next day came, and Ty stayed home while his brothers were woken up at ungodly hours and sent off to school to better themselves.  The day went off without a hitch, and without any more hurl.  Everyone was happy.  Everyone went to bed.  At about 0130, the Mama fell asleep.  At 0133, the Mama was woken up by Ka’lani.  Ka’lani had decided he wanted to vomit violently, all over the bathroom floor.

A bucket was grabbed, the floor cleaned, and Donovan awakened and moved to the Mama’s bed, so that the Mama could take Puke Boy to the ER.  After 1 liter of fluids and some Zofran, several vials of blood drawn, a cup full of pee, and 4 hours in the ER, the Mama and Ka’lani were sent home.  Sensing a pattern, the Mama kept all the children home that Friday.  Ka’lani hibernated in his room, armed with an iPod, and a stack of magazines and books.  Everyone else seemed to be fine, including the previously ill boy, Ty.

Around 9:00 that evening, Ty stood before his Mama with his hand outstretched.  On his palm lay a shining tooth,  His mouth full of blood, he grinned like a vampire.  His first tooth!  Not a half hour later, there was the unpleasant sound of a geyser coming from the playroom.  It was Ty, who had vomited at least twice his body weight.  Clean up was involved, and so was another trip to the ER.  Poor Donovan volunteered for playroom clean up duty, and I am still questioning the wisdom of that decision.  I was left to stick Ty in the shower and rinse him off, changing him into clean sweats.  My job was easier.  So, bucket in hand, we were off for the second night in a row to our local ER.

Young Master Ty thought it was cool, however, that on the stretcher next to him in the ER was a dude handcuffed to the bed with two Corrections Officers.  The Mama thought that was less cool.  Anyway, no IVs were needed, but Zofran was.  The Mama and Ty were released and sent home to sleep.

By midnight Friday night, however, the Mama was stricken with pains underneath her breasts that lasted until about 0300.  It ran from side to side and doubled her over.  Still not a clue what caused that, but there seem to be no remaining issues.  The rest of the night passed without incident.  Until the Mama woke up and heard Scotty hurling in the bathroom.  Apparently, he had been engaging in that activity for some time, but for some unknown reason, had not thought to wake up the Mama.  By that time, the flow was ebbing so he escaped a trip to the ER. 

Now, he is the only one left, the Mama and Donovan having escaped the tide of barf.  Yippee.

Ty growled and growled at me this morning, earning himself the nickname of T-Rex Ty.  Walking from the bedroom door to the laundry basked is about 12 feet and it tool him 5 stops to growl at me to get there.  He growled throughout his shower, to the entertainment and enjoyment of the rest of us within hearing.  We live in a small apartment, so EVERYONE who was awake could hear him.  He finally got out so Scott could shower and then Phase Two of the T-Rex ‘tude began.  His favorite towel is a Spongebob beach towel which he likes to wrap himself in from head to toe, leaving only his eyes and nose exposed, before sinking to the floor in a huddle.  That is where he generally mumbles to himself and I am pretty sure he is laying a curse on me.  Today, in the manner of all good T-Rex’s, he growled his curses.  You would have thought I was trying to get him to eat cat liver when I tried to get him to stand up and, I don’t know, DRY HIMSELF OFF!  Silly me, thought being dry would help the cold issue!  So finally, being a much bigger dinosaur,… THE MAMASAURUS, I tackled him to the bathroom floor and forcibly dried him.  I am pretty sure that was how it was done in the wild.  Can’t you just see all the mommy ‘saurs running around with Cavebob towels tackling their young?