Since I have had Beckham, I can not sleep.
Never, in my life has this been a problem...
Nightly, I am staring at the clock--
doing math inside my head--
wondering when Beckham will be up for his first feed. (usually 3:00)
And what time Maddox will be strolling in, ready for a "snack".
(in which I correct to 'breakfast')
My class started this week.
And I hate it.
I am trying to have the attitude of my baby sister...
she doesn't take anything in life seriously.
Most of the time, it drives me crazy that she can be so careless...
but right now,
I want to be her.
I just need to get through it.
...with a B-- since I have never made a C in college, and I don't want to start now.
Oh my gosh!! Or fail it?!?!?
What if I fail?
Surely I won't fail.
[I am going to have a panic attack.]
This class is so much.
4 assignments every week.
18 million stories that were written before the invention of the wheel
and are harder to understand than the King James Version Bible.
I've got 2 kids! And a job! And a home to run.....
She keeps saying, "refer to ENGLISH 1302 for..."
And in my head, I am shouting, "that was ten years ago lady.... the only thing I remember was the hot pink stitching on Fluff Montano's jeans"
(that's what we called our professor because he had the worst case of bed-head you have ever seen!)
I want to drop it.
But I wont.
My Mamaw turned 96 on Monday.
And was just discharged from her first time EVER to stay in the hospital.
I was a basket case.
You don't go a century without one stay at the hospital unless you truly need to be there.
I prepared myself that this was the end for her.
And with that came lots and lots of tears.
I love her so much.
I'll write a whole other blog about why she is so special to me.
For now she has been discharged home,
to Hospice care.
My husband [is driving me nuts].
when the pieces start to crumble apart,
he turns into a 4th grader.
He tries to be funny or make light of my madness.
Or make random sounds or noises just to fill blank air.
It makes me what to rip off his head
with the swords I keep stored behind my retina.
He met me at the door twice last week with a hug,
saying, "I don't want to fight".
But he's lying.
I know that,
because the very next day,
we repeat the one before.
It isn't real fights...
not things you would divorce over--
its stupid stuff, like me making dinner (at 3:00 in the afternoon so he doesn't have to mess with it while I go to work) but him turning up his nose to say, that's what he had today for lunch.... but then going on to say he will eat it. (as if he is doing me a favor)
Or me cleaning the house all day, going to work for 3 measly hours, and walking in to see the destruction he, Maddox and Buzz Lightyear can accomplish.
Me, switching my entire work schedule for something that came up on his agenda, and then him having the balls to say that he wished I was still off on my normal day too, so he could do this, that, or the other .....
Or just being obnoxious.
I told him, "I can not keep the 4 month old from crying... that's the way he communicates. I can not keep the 3 year old from talking.... that's how he learns. But surely. Surely. The 30 year old can go one day without making up stupid songs, making animal noises or over-exaggerating my mood with his woos! and wows! and oh mys!
In every way that I have pushed this child intellectually,
I have failed him socially.
Moving back here, we have tons of neighbors with boys his age.
He talks older than every one of them.
His vocabulary is unreal.
....Not always correct but honestly awing!
Like this week when I said a shark was 'awesome'--
and he, tried to trump me, by calling it 'architect'!
...I said architect, huh? What does that mean?
in which he matter of factly replied,
"like castles and stuff, you know really cool."
But socially, I feel like he is so behind.
All of the boys in our neighborhood can ride a bike.
Maddox doesn't even have a bike.
One wanted to race Maddox ,
and he beat him by a good 5 feet.
Maddox, out of breath, proudly announced, "I won."
The other boy looked confused and said, "no, I did."
But Maddox kept on, "whew! I am one fast kid. I won."
He had no idea.
A girl at a birthday party told him that she didn't want to play with him,
he said, "of course you do. I am Maddox, an every day super-hero."
No social cues, I tell you.
When the other boys would run off, around the corner, or further than I would like...
He would stare at me.
Or say, "I have to ask my mom."
Thankful, yes I am...
but he looks ike a pansy--
and I know that is my fault.
He needs to be in a school.
But we were too late.
We met 2 boys at the park, who were both within months of each other.
All 3 played really well together...
(even though Maddox refused to call one his name, just super-spidey-jump-master)
again with the social short-fall.
They are starting a MDO just down the street from our neighborhood.
I wanted Maddox to go too.
Lance feels like Maddox has 3 years before he is in school-- we are in no rush.
I feel like he is being short changed with his best friends being adults.
It is expensive,
but I told Lance I was willing to work all 4 night clinic nights to make up the difference to pay for it.
Lance said, "we will talk about it."
What he means is, he is teaching a class at the fire department on Wednesday nights.
It trumped my Music Appreciation class-- making me have to take this hard-ass English class in its place.
And now it is trumping Maddox going to school.
I have been absent.
I blog in my head all of the time.
(especially during those hours that I wish I were sleeping)
But I don't get to sit down and put it into words very often lately.
I have a few [positive] things I need to share also,
But today, I just needed to vent.
Sorry about that.
Can I call it that?
I can feel that I am on edge.
I cry watching The Talk.
I assume it is the hormones associated with breastfeeding making me so obnoxious.
So here's to another 10 months of this!!
Hang on to your hats!
I really am happy over-all.
I know that reading this, I sound like I am inches from the edge--
ready to leap.
But I'm not.
I'm just expressing life.
And today... the negative parts.
Beckham is rolling over both ways now-- traveling all over the living room... a happy, and easy little thing.
Maddox is smart and funny and incredibly loving. Like me, he has no problems sharing his feelings and unfortunately he too, wears them on the tip of his shoulder.
Lance is the yin to my yang. I can't imagine how crazy this house would be if he were as worried about everything I was or couldn't make me laugh when I was about to lose it.
As much as I think I hate him sometimes-- I love him a million times more.
Off to read a story about a baby falling into a bunch of monsters in the under-world...
or something like that.
I think I may just write a report about "The Help" and tell her it was a much better story.
Peace out, Blogger world