Let's takle a little inventory of all that Ilio has destroyed in the last few weeks.
4 pair of shoes
2 pair of flip flops
2 shirts
1 pair sleep pants
1 wooden slingshot
1 pair of glasses
1 softball
1 teddy bear
3 pair of underwear
I've had it! I'm instituting new dog rules here. He's being demoted in the house heirarchy (as suggested in a training book) and will no longer sleep in my room. He will be confined to the dog room when he is not within my sight. I will buy a muzzle and start walking him more around the neighborhood. I'm not going to let me life be ruled by the dog. I am the master of this domain, dammit!!!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Finally!
Something went right at Northeastern! Holy mother of ... I almost can't believe it. Today I went and GOT my book waiver without having to kill, maim, threaten or otherwise injure anyone. Then I went and got all my books with NO problems. Good thing, too, because that shit cost $308!
So I'm officially ready for the semester to start. Bring it on. The exciting thing? Those books are all totally books I'd read even if I wasn't going to school :)
So I'm officially ready for the semester to start. Bring it on. The exciting thing? Those books are all totally books I'd read even if I wasn't going to school :)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Not Just Words
Yesterday while I was at work, my mother called and said that Daimean needs stitches. Now, my mom is sorta the Lady Who Cried Wolf so I tend to ignore a lot of what she says. She said he had a huge cut on his finger and that she could see the “meat” sticking out. He claimed he didn’t know how it happened, he just noticed it hurt. So I figured, Can’t be that bad then. Told her to put a band aid on it and I’d assess it when I get home.
Got home and saw the crazy tape job she did on his finger, told him to take that off so we could clean it and bandage it right. He takes it off and yowza – he’s got a hell of a cut on his finger. I ask him how it happened, he says emphatically, “I don’t know!” While there’s no “meat” sticking out, you can see the subcutaneous fat, which is a bit unnerving. Clean it, close it, Neosporin it, bandage it. Ask again how it happened. He sticks with his story that he doesn’t know.
I look my darling child in the eye and say, “You know you can tell me anything. So why aren’t you telling me the truth about this?”
He turns around and walks to his room. Climbs up on his bed and unwraps his Swiss army knife from a tangle of blankets where he’s hidden it. He said I could throw it away.
I explained that I’m not going to take it from him, but that it’s obviously not a toy. We got it for our camping trip. Not to play around flipping the blade open and closed. Which is how this happened.
THEN when I get the rest of the story it just breaks my heart. It had happened the night before, after bed time. He said he was flipping the blade, caught his finger, and panicked. Ran to the bathroom and ran water on it and used tissue to hold over it. Just thinking of him being too scared to get in trouble that he didn’t ask for help is awful. So we talked a LOT about it yesterday. Went over what could have happened. I made him promise that no matter WHAT happens, whether to him or anyone else, he must always come to me or his father for help. Part of our bedtime ritual is me asking him, “Who’s always on your side no matter what?” and his answer is You Are.
Not just words.
I’m careful to make sure that I don’t overreact when he tells me things, asks whack job questions, or does stupid things that can –and do- get people hurt. He’s a kid. It’s his job to find out how the world works, and it’s MY job to try to guide him through it with all of his digital appendages intact.
Got home and saw the crazy tape job she did on his finger, told him to take that off so we could clean it and bandage it right. He takes it off and yowza – he’s got a hell of a cut on his finger. I ask him how it happened, he says emphatically, “I don’t know!” While there’s no “meat” sticking out, you can see the subcutaneous fat, which is a bit unnerving. Clean it, close it, Neosporin it, bandage it. Ask again how it happened. He sticks with his story that he doesn’t know.
I look my darling child in the eye and say, “You know you can tell me anything. So why aren’t you telling me the truth about this?”
He turns around and walks to his room. Climbs up on his bed and unwraps his Swiss army knife from a tangle of blankets where he’s hidden it. He said I could throw it away.
I explained that I’m not going to take it from him, but that it’s obviously not a toy. We got it for our camping trip. Not to play around flipping the blade open and closed. Which is how this happened.
THEN when I get the rest of the story it just breaks my heart. It had happened the night before, after bed time. He said he was flipping the blade, caught his finger, and panicked. Ran to the bathroom and ran water on it and used tissue to hold over it. Just thinking of him being too scared to get in trouble that he didn’t ask for help is awful. So we talked a LOT about it yesterday. Went over what could have happened. I made him promise that no matter WHAT happens, whether to him or anyone else, he must always come to me or his father for help. Part of our bedtime ritual is me asking him, “Who’s always on your side no matter what?” and his answer is You Are.
Not just words.
I’m careful to make sure that I don’t overreact when he tells me things, asks whack job questions, or does stupid things that can –and do- get people hurt. He’s a kid. It’s his job to find out how the world works, and it’s MY job to try to guide him through it with all of his digital appendages intact.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Today, on As the Woman Whines
Went to Colorado. Loved it. Rode a horse. Went rafting. Made smores. Came back. Dryer not working. Dog continues to eat shoes = bad. Working toilet on 1st floor = good. Financial aid nightmare at NEIU is still going strong. Kids started school. Gained 50 lbs (at least it feels like I have) Foundation giving a hero award tomorrow to family that found baby in trash in Brighton Park. School starts for me soon. Too soon. My family is having another legendary fight. I’m staying out of it. Don’t like this hair length. Must cut it again. Growing out takes too long. Want to go to the movies. Hubs’ days off don’t mesh with mine though. Want to see Halloween II. And The Time Traveler’s Wife. Even though I hate Eric Bana.
I’m being a whiny jerk today.
Want to go home and go to bed.
To spare everyone from listening to me whine.
Hell, to spare ME from listening to me whine!
I’m being a whiny jerk today.
Want to go home and go to bed.
To spare everyone from listening to me whine.
Hell, to spare ME from listening to me whine!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Vacation Time!
This time tomorrow, I’ll be in Colorado. Breathing in the mountain air (and probably needing an oxygen tank) Just thinking about all I have to do between now and then is making me tired. I think I need a nap. Next update will be post CO. I’ll tell you if I’ve been arrested, thrown from a horse, lost in a national park or if I drop my camera while leaning too far over the side of the canyon.
Stay tuned!
Stay tuned!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Teen Sets Self On Fire To Imitate YouTube Clip
And his mother is busy blaming YouTube. WTF?! Seriously? Your kid has no common sense, so you blame someone else? Fab.
Makes me wonder what caused this great parenting shift. Back in the day, when you did something stupid, your parents punished your dumb ass. Then they had to suck it up and apologize to others for your behavior. But now, it seems that parents refuse to let their kids accept blame for stupidity and/or refuse to believe their kids ever do anything wrong. Why is this?! They stick up for their kids, and then we wonder why the kids won't ever accept responsibility for their actions. Duh! 'Cause mom and dad said it's not their fault - ever!
Kids who shoot other kids are suddenly "victims" instead of convicts. Kids who steal are "misguided". Kids who bully are defended.
Well I'm sick of it. When my children make poor decisions I expect them to learn from the experience. I refuse to shelter them from right and wrong simply because I love them - because that would really be doing them a terrible disservice. But you know what's bad about that? Sending my kids out in into a world full of "It's not my fault" people and trying to explain their behavior :(
My rant is done, I just needed to share that. *whew* I feel a little better now.
Makes me wonder what caused this great parenting shift. Back in the day, when you did something stupid, your parents punished your dumb ass. Then they had to suck it up and apologize to others for your behavior. But now, it seems that parents refuse to let their kids accept blame for stupidity and/or refuse to believe their kids ever do anything wrong. Why is this?! They stick up for their kids, and then we wonder why the kids won't ever accept responsibility for their actions. Duh! 'Cause mom and dad said it's not their fault - ever!
Kids who shoot other kids are suddenly "victims" instead of convicts. Kids who steal are "misguided". Kids who bully are defended.
Well I'm sick of it. When my children make poor decisions I expect them to learn from the experience. I refuse to shelter them from right and wrong simply because I love them - because that would really be doing them a terrible disservice. But you know what's bad about that? Sending my kids out in into a world full of "It's not my fault" people and trying to explain their behavior :(
My rant is done, I just needed to share that. *whew* I feel a little better now.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Safe Havens Save Lives - So Why Aren't They Being Used?
On Friday night, on a nice looking street on Chicago's south side, a family was pulling into their garage at about 10:30pm after a day out. An 8 year old boy heard crying, and told his parents. They looked around, didn't see anyone, but they heard it. They were sure they'd heard a baby crying.
They called the police, who came with flashlights and looked around the alley. They focused on a garbage can. You know, the big, deep black ones. With a broken broom handle, they poked around and tried to figure out what was in there.
They lowered the can to the ground sideways to pull everything out. It had rained that day, everything was wet and dirty.
Including the newborn boy they found wrapped in a pair of sweatpants, his umbilical cord still attached. They scooped him up and cleaned him off, and to everyone's relief, he began to cry.
What an awful way to begin your life, by being thrown away by your mother. We met the little boy that heard the baby's cries, and he shies away from being called a hero. But the fact is, that family and those police officers saved that baby's life on Friday night. Instead of shrugging off a strange noise, they got help. That's pretty remarkable in these jaded times where everyone says, "Hey, not my problem."
Well let me tell you something - children being thrown in garbage cans IS your problem. It's my problem. It's their problem.
Until every child born here is safe and cared for -whether by birth parents, adoptive parents, foster parents- this will remain our problem. And we have a lot of work to do to stop it.
No one should begin their life like that.
CBS News Story
They called the police, who came with flashlights and looked around the alley. They focused on a garbage can. You know, the big, deep black ones. With a broken broom handle, they poked around and tried to figure out what was in there.
They lowered the can to the ground sideways to pull everything out. It had rained that day, everything was wet and dirty.
Including the newborn boy they found wrapped in a pair of sweatpants, his umbilical cord still attached. They scooped him up and cleaned him off, and to everyone's relief, he began to cry.
What an awful way to begin your life, by being thrown away by your mother. We met the little boy that heard the baby's cries, and he shies away from being called a hero. But the fact is, that family and those police officers saved that baby's life on Friday night. Instead of shrugging off a strange noise, they got help. That's pretty remarkable in these jaded times where everyone says, "Hey, not my problem."
Well let me tell you something - children being thrown in garbage cans IS your problem. It's my problem. It's their problem.
Until every child born here is safe and cared for -whether by birth parents, adoptive parents, foster parents- this will remain our problem. And we have a lot of work to do to stop it.
No one should begin their life like that.
CBS News Story
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)