Meet The Thing

The Thing is not happy.

The Thing is at times confounded, annoyed, and dismayed at the adults in his life. You see, they insist on “being adults” and “telling him what to do”. The Thing feels life would be better if he were left, as The Thing well should be, to do whatever he would like, whenever he would like, to whomever or whatever he would like to do it to.

The Thing is not happy.

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So this past week was not Our Best Week Ever. Everyone has spring fever, added to the boy above’s new found realization that he doesn’t really have any use for all these directives that his increasingly frustrated and bossy mother keeps giving him. At an ever increasing volume, to boot.

The Mikey has found reserves of energy and destructiveness from deep within himself that are new to me. Reserves that can no longer be contained. The tee pee from earlier? Broken. His sister’s piggy bank? Broken. The RC Car from Christmas? Broken. Books from his bookshelf? Broken. The list goes on and on. Sometimes he breaks things because he is angry. Most of the time the broken items are simply the flotsam left bobbing in his tidal wave of energetic play. Oh, this boy can break even the most unbreakable of things.

On Wednesday, Wednesday! The week had barely begun! On Wednesday, I found myself screaming at volumes I hadn’t reached before, and I realized, I have to leave. I need to get out of here. So I started calling friends within driving distance, and finally found one who could come out. Mike arrived home, and I stalked out the door. Someone to come out and listen to my ramblings, someone to sit with me so I didn’t have to drink alone. And what a wonder it is, how a few minutes in a calm friend’s presence can calm my spirit and remind me that I am not alone. She has crazy stories about her kids, I have crazy stories about mine, and suddenly it seemed bearable. Even laughable that I was so worked up a few hours before. She had not just crazy stories, but encouragement to find the beauty and the joy in this journey, not just as a mother, but as a woman and a follower of Christ. Friends like her are good to have.

(On a totally, sort of, unrelated tangent, I know my Elia is not a leader, she’s more of a follower. I think it’s ok to be a follower – the leaders need someone to follow them, after all – but she needs to learn the right people to follow. I think so often that if we are able to teach her to surround herself with friends like ours, she will do well to follow them. Just choose the right people to follow, child!)

Anyway, the week sort of improved. We continued with school, on Friday we attended for the first time our annual home school History/Geography Fair (pics to come), and on Thursday Mike was able to accompany us to the Museum of Science and Industry, which was nice. The kids enjoy it quite a bit. And just as I was yammering on about how nice it is, what a good day it is, how much the kids are learning while having fun, I see my Mikey, the feral boy above, squatted in a corner sucking down the dregs of a pop he found in the corner. As I hear the rattle of the last drops of liquid suck up through the straw, all I could think was, Where is YOUR MOTHER!!!! Who is raising you?!?!! And GAG. Then. As if once was not enough, we stopped in the food court for lunch. The girls and I went to the bathroom, and as we walked back to our table, I watched Josie casually lean over an empty table and suck the drink out of a cup sitting among the detritus on the table. ……..Who?WHA?Why?HOW?……. When confronted, she answered, “Well, it was just sitting there….” Oh, gross.

And now you know why I don’t kiss my kids on the lips when I tell them good night.

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