Tag: bipolar II

Someone, please slap me!

Published on by cmglife4 Comments

I just needed to write about how I’m feeling right now.  I had to discipline my son because he not doing well in Chemistry.  What a wicked mother! Do you think so?  I hope not. His discipline is to stay home this weekend and study, catch up on sleep, clean his room etc.  Ever since he got his license he is never home.   This summer he started out a quiet kid with a couple of friends, now he has more than I can keep up with. He’s out every weekend with them.  He plays sports so he is at practice everyday and then homework is an afterthought.  He is a junior, this is no time to be slacking off.

The problem with discipline and my children is that it doesn’t agree with me.  My approach is pretty gentle, but my husband, is a knee jerk kind of disciplinarian.  I suppose our kids have needed us to temper each other.  I hope it’s worked out that way anyway.

So now, Tristan is feeling sorry for himself.  He started out yelling at me, his dad is out of town, or he wouldn’t have dared.  He stomped off swearing.  I yell after him, “If I hear you swearing again…..” What kind of a threat is that?  He was already in the basement.  Pathetic!

So after he had calmed down a bit he was back upstairs with tears in his eyes and a hitch in his voice as he pointed out how much he had already studied tonight.  Talk about pulling out my heart  through my chest!  I am always a sucker for men crying, but my own son, who just looks like a man is more than I can stand.

I did not give in.  I feel like crap.  I mean I really do.  I never want to see my children suffering at all, but when it is at my hands it feels much worse.  This all leads back to my overdeveloped sense of empathy for everyone.  I need to work  on it.  It might be too late at this point.  He is only grounded for god’s sake.  Someone, please slap me!

Exotic Currency

Published on by cmglife3 Comments

Today I was in the store buying a pair of sunglasses that would fit over my glasses. I know they make prescription sunglasses, but I am too cheap to buy them and I would probably lose them anyway. I thought this was a great compromise. My children are so embarrassed by me wearing my regular sunglasses over my glasses. They make me look I’m wearing those old fashioned mad scientist’s goggles.

Anyway, I counted out cash, 29 dollars, and handed it over to the cashier. She looked at me as if I’d just given her a handful of monopoly money.

“Oh,” she said,” I don’t usually take cash.” She counted the exotic currency while I was busy shoving receipts and stuff back into my wallet that had been freed when I took out the cash.

“Are you going to pay with some cash and some on your card?” she looked confused holding the money up.

Then it was my turn to look confused.

“There’s only nine dollars here,” the poor thing says.

“Oh,” I say, “I must’ve put the twenty back with the receipts!” And I gave her the twenty.

Then, trying to be helpful, she asks, “Do you have 16 cents, so you don’t have to break a dollar?”

Why couldn’t she just have left well enough alone?

“I think so,” I say and start digging in my coin purse, being careful not to give her the stray hair that is at the bottom. I put the 16 cents on the counter and kind of edge it over to her.

She begins to count it, picking up one very shiny coin to examine.

“This is an interesting one, ” she says and holds it up for inspection.

I’m thinking this girl has got to be kidding! It’s a *!?* penny for god’s sake! Then I realize what she’s got.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that is probably an English penny,” and I go into to a rambling explanation as to why I have an English penny in my coin purse, “I was in England in June and I haven’t gotten around to giving my coins to my dad.”

The question begs to be asked. Why do I still have those coins in my purse? Why am I carrying them with American coins? This has been an accident waiting to happen all along.

 

How Vain Can I Get?

Published on by cmglife

About 5 months ago my first granddaughter was born. It was out of state so I was staying at my daughter’s house.

Emily and Paul left for the hospital.  After a couple of hours Paul called from the hospital to tell me that Emily was in labor and it was time to come down. I had just gotten out of the shower and was just about to blow dry my hair. The dryer broke. Luckily I did finish my bangs first. When my hair air dries it becomes curly in some spots, wavy in spots and straight in yet some more places. I look like I’ve dried it by sticking my head out of a moving car. Oh, well, I thought this isn’t about my hair it’s about the birth of my granddaughter, see how selfless I really am?

We arrived and it was just as Paul had said, Emily was in labor, but only just beginning. She was still lucid and just sitting up. So I mentioned my hair dryer and she casually suggested I use her dryer which was in the bag she had brought for the hospital. At first I resisted because, I mean how vain can you be? Daughter in labor, mother blow drying her hair straight in the bathroom? But I did it anyway, I am ashamed to admit. It didn’t seem so appalling at the time, but in retrospect I really should have refused.

ADD Laundry

Published on by cmglife

Housekeeping, especially laundry, with ADD has its special challenges, like it never gets done!

When you do laundry in my opinion that’s all you should be doing, any distraction at all is detrimental to the process. My laundry never gets finished. I sometimes do the right thing and take all the laundry baskets out to the living room where there is a big area to sort and make piles. I have devised one of my own systems. My stuff, husband’s stuff, kids stuff and towels. So far it hasn’t caused too much problem. The odd pink whites here and there over the years, it’s worth it, my system works!

On this particular day I have no plan, I’m just picking up piles from the individual rooms and stuffing them in the washer.  So I pick up one pile and put it in the washing machine, put the detergent in and turn it on. If I stayed there or somewhere close and waited for it I could have it done in record time, but no. I have to watch tv, read a book, get on the computer, do the dishes, get on the phone…….

So now the load number one is still sitting in the washer for 20 minutes before I remember I am doing the laundry. Twenty minutes, not too bad, I have all day. Next I put load number one into the dryer, dryer sheet and turn it on. Then it’s load number 2, I put it in the washing machine, put the detergent in and go finish what I was doing. Right, I can’t remember what I was doing before load number two, I’ll start a something new, that’s a better idea.

So another 20 minutes go by and I think about the laundry then realizing the dryer takes an hour so therefore there is at least 40 minutes left. I keep moving on. One hour goes by and I remember the laundry in the dryer, go to take it out and take load number two out of the washer to put in the dryer, but….. did you catch it before? I didn’t turn it on! This has been going on all my adult life. If I go to hell, this would be my hell, laundry. There is nothing I hate more!

After you get it out of the dryer, it’s still not done.  Doing laundry is like going grocery shopping, it’s such a process! Write the list, go to the store, buy the items, put the items on the checkout counter, put the bags into the cart, take the bags out of the cart, put the bags into the car, take the bags into the house, put the groceries away. And you haven’t even made dinner yet! I’m exhausted just remembering.

Back to the laundry, after they’re out of the dryer then they have to be folded. My husband tries to help out; he’s not one of those that doesn’t do any housework. He has to, it just wouldn’t get done sometimes, it’s more about self-preservation than charity. To keep the clean clothes separate from the dirty, he pours all the clean laundry on the couch. That is great if it ever gets folded. By the time I get around to it, the kids have sat all over it, half the socks are in between the couch cushions and my leopard print  underwear are the only thing visible from the front door when the neighbor stops by. Sometimes he’ll put it on the bed so I am forced to fold it and put it away so I can go to sleep.

Putting laundry away is the one process that never gets completely finished. I’ve had my son’s socks and underwear on my dresser since last week. I’ve got a stray belt and pair of shorts still lying on my nightstand.

While I’ve been writing this I am doing laundry and I’m going now to check to see if I put the dryer on for the wet load, because I didn’t the first time and now it’s 6:00 in the evening. I started at 8:30 this morning.