All that this week???

Wow.  It is crazy time in Krystie town.  What I mean by that is that there is some serious time management under way at my house.  These weeks are getting crazier and crazier, and I realize this is my own doing, but wow!  My planner looks like a small child went through it with a highlighter and a ball point pen, but no.  That was definitely me.  :)

My daughter started T-Ball last week, which is great.  She loves it, she has a blast out there, she runs off all of her energy, but my lordy, it is three practices per week plus games.  I suppose it has something to to with being in Texas and all, but when I was a kid, we practiced maybe twice a week, and that was only when we didn't have games.  I knew that it was going to wear her out, but it's only week 2 and it is wearing me out!  It would be more convenient if I didn't have to drive 15 minutes each way to get her to practice.  Why couldn't they put teams in the order of their geographical location?  Yeah, right...they actually have a T-Ball DRAFT!  And did I mention that we had tryouts?  That's right.  For 5 year olds. 

I do have to say though, some of those kids are hardcore!  And you should see some of the parents.  My daughter's coach said that two of the coaches actually got into a fight during the draft.  There was even trading going on.  I love Emily's coach though.  He seems very down to earth and doesn't have that wild-eyed "I gotta win" look in his eyes.  He wants the kids to have fun, and so far, she definitely is. 

Did I mention that I'm still in school?  Full time?  Final year?  So, yeah, that's plenty of homework.  Plus my extracurriculars for the resume.  And I have to start working on my practicum.  My hubby is in school too, plus we run our own business.  If I didn't know how to use my planner, I would be completely fucked.  Can't wait until Ethan starts to play Pee Wee Football.  I have a feeling it will only get crazier the older they get.  But damn, you gotta love 'em.

On the up side, my crock pot is going to be getting a lot of use these next few months.  That and the barbeque.  :)  We'll be doing a lot of convenience cooking at home, which means I don't have to deal with it during the evening.  I guess that's one thing off the planner....twenty two more to go. 

It's all about me!

Does anyone know what narcissitic personality disorder (NPD) is?  Let me give you a definition. 

"Narcissistic personality disorder is a mental disorder in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance and a deep need for admiration. Those with narcissistic personality disorder believe that they're superior to others and have little regard for other people's feelings. But behind this mask of ultra-confidence lies a fragile self-esteem, vulnerable to the slightest criticism.

 

Narcissistic personality disorder is characterized by dramatic, emotional behavior, in the same category as antisocial and borderline personality disorders.

  

Narcissistic personality disorder symptoms may include:

• Believing that you're better than others
• Fantasizing about power, success and attractiveness
• Exaggerating your achievements or talents
• Expecting constant praise and admiration
• Believing that you're special and acting accordingly
• Failing to recognize other people's emotions and feelings
• Expecting others to go along with your ideas and plans
• Taking advantage of others
• Expressing disdain for those you feel are inferior
• Being jealous of others
• Believing that others are jealous of you
• Trouble keeping healthy relationships
• Setting unrealistic goals
• Being easily hurt and rejected
• Having a fragile self-esteem
• Appearing as tough-minded or unemotional

 

Although some features of narcissistic personality disorder may seem like having confidence or strong self-esteem, it's not the same. Narcissistic personality disorder crosses the border of healthy confidence and self-esteem into thinking so highly of yourself that you put yourself on a pedestal. In contrast, people who have healthy confidence and self-esteem don't value themselves more than they value others.

 

When you have narcissistic personality disorder, you may come across as conceited, boastful or pretentious. You often monopolize conversations. You may belittle or look down on people you perceive as inferior. You may have a sense of entitlement. And when you don't receive the special treatment to which you feel entitled, you may become very impatient or angry. You may insist on having "the best" of everything — the best car, athletic club, medical care or social circles, for instance.

 

But underneath all this behavior often lies a fragile self-esteem. You have trouble handling anything that may be perceived as criticism. You may have a sense of secret shame and humiliation. And in order to make yourself feel better, you may react with rage or contempt and efforts to belittle the other person to make yourself appear better.

 

When to see a doctor

 

When you have narcissistic personality disorder, you may not want to think that anything could be wrong — doing so wouldn't fit with your self-image of power and perfection. But by definition, narcissistic personality disorder causes problems in many areas of your life, such as relationships, work, school or your financial affairs. You may be generally unhappy and confused by a mix of seemingly contradictory emotions. Others may not enjoy being around you, and you may find your relationships unfulfilling (Mayo Clinic, 2011)."

 

 

I said all of that to say this.  I understand a child believing that the world revolves around them.  That is a child's way of thinking because their brain is still developing.  But for an adult to continue to live in a world that they believe is all about them and their needs is simply debilatating.  I am sure that all of my readers know at least one person in their life who exhibits symptoms of NPD.  It is one of the most frustrating disorders that friends/family can deal with.  The reason for this is that the only real treatment for narcissim is therapy.  That would go against all aspects of someone with NPD, and so they very rarely seek therapy or even admit that something could possibly be wrong with them. 

 

I'm bringing this to your attention, because I believe that if we start telling these people with NPD that something is wrong with them, and there is treatment, perhaps the stigma will no longer be as large and they will go and get treatment. 

 

Until then though, I will no longer invite people with NPD to be a part of mine or my family's life.  Please seek treatment prior to any contact with me.  I hope that this information that I have provided you will be of assistance to your future relationships with both friends and family.  Again, please seek treatment. 

 

Don't worry guys, I'll post a fun read later. 
 

 

 

 

 

It's scawy!

Those of you readers with kids have been there, right?  You do the bedtime routine, sing them a song, say the prayers, tuck the child in extra well, scare away the monsters, and then walk out of the room with high hopes that your child will stay where you put them.  Is this typically the case?  Not at our house lately. Nope.  Not my son!  For some reason, he thinks that the reason we tuck him in each night is because we want to play Chinese fire drill after bedtime.  His version of Chinese fire drill consists of him sneaking out of his bed and running into Grandpa's room, where he convinces his Grandpa to read him a book.  I don't really blame my Dad, I mean, he forgets.  I would too with dementia.  But the boy, now the boy is a whole different story. 

Anyway, after we take my son back to bed around a half-dozen times he usually gives up on the seemingly futile attempt at escape and falls asleep.  Not for the last couple of nights. 

Let me give you some background on my son.  First of all, he loves to climb.  The kid would climb up the tiger cage at the zoo if I let him.  He also loves to hide.  Hide-and-seek is a favorite around our house.  The combination of climbing and hiding!  That prospect, for him, is absolutely a winner. 

That being said, this is where we found Ethan the night before last.  Not that this is much of a climb...but it is a fun place to escape from Mommy, Daddy, and the monsters.

No, that is not his tiny bedroom.  That is a cupboard.  Yeah, like the Indian in the cupboard, except this time it's an oversized two year old.  When he told us he wanted to sleep in the cabinet, we were like, yeah, right.  Like he'll actually fall asleep in there.  Well, he sure proved us wrong, didn't he??

Just goes to show you the biggest difference between adults and children is our lack of imagination.  I look in the cupboard and see extra storage.  He looked in the cupboard and saw a small space that monsters couldn't fit in, but he could.  And so he used that as a solution to his problem.  My son, the little genius!  I do think that this is going to be a bit of a habit from now on, though.  He was there again last night.  :)

Enjoy your kiddos readers.  They'll only fit into cupboards for a short period of time.  Next thing I know he'll be falling asleep in the shower.  :)

Don't worry! I'll do it!

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have to run everyone's lives for them?  I'm not talking about the kids...that's pretty much my job as a mother.  But I get so effing frustrated when I have to run my husband and my dad's lives too!  Especially my husband.  At least my dad has an excuse...senility is a bitch.  But why, oh why, oh my fuck gawd why do I have to personally hold my husband's hand for every tiny little thing? 

So today, I was expecting grant money from his school.  I finally convinced him that an education was going to be key to our future, but he has an issue with getting all of the forms filled out for his financial aid.  We pay out of pocket, which is fine because we are supposed to be getting our money, as of yesterday, no less.  But I check the bank account today, and is the money there?  No!  Of course not!  So I call the financial aid office to see what the hold up is.  The very nice lady on the phone says, "Yes, the paperwork is all turned in, and it is signed by you, but your husband didn't sign it.  We can't release the funds until we have his signature."  This was 3 weeks ago.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE DIDN'T SIGN IT??  I really thought I was married to a grown up, but apparently when I say, "Honey, all you have to do is sign this form and drop it off," that is too much information to process at one time. 

I am a patient woman, most of the time.  But this isn't a one time thing.  This is an every time thing.  I love my husband.  He is so sweet and loves me oh so much.  He does a lot.  Or at least he seems to do a lot.  But my patience is bound to run out at some point.  And that point is today. 

I am over it. And it's only 11:00 AM, so it's not like I can do anything about it right now.  Nope.  I have to sit here, by myself, pissed off, sober.  Because I have homework to do.  And a house to clean.  And an exam to take.  If you read my last blog you'll see that this is what I do.  Clean up shitty messes that other people leave.  Ugh.  And they wonder why I am so fucking stressed out sometimes.  It's okay honey, keep on not doing what you say you'll do.  Don't worry, I'll get that.  Oh, you didn't fix the washer?  Don't worry, I can do it.  You didn't pick up that ingredient?  Don't worry, I've got it.  You didn't put that in the laundry?  Oh, no don't even think about it. I've got it.  You didn't write that paper?  Don't worry, I'll help you.  You can't wipe your own ass?  Bend over honey, I'll get it for you.  It's okay.  I've got it.

I'm so fucking busy helping other people not worry that I've got premature wrinkles on my ass and dimples on my thighs from drowning my own anger in chocolate and coffee.  Shit. 

All in a day's time

8:00 AM.

I had to practically drag my little girl out of bed to go to her T-Ball tryouts this morning.  Do you know what she told me when I said it was time to wake up?  "I think we slept through it mom.  It's too late, go back to sleep."  Ha!  This was mumbled next to me in bed, because we ended up (again) with way too many bodies.  I really don't get the whole co-sleeping thing, because I can't handle all the feet and elbows and knees jamming into my face, back, legs, etc.

Anyway, we finally make it out the door to T-Ball tryouts, where she has a blast running around with the other kids and then has her chance to swing the bat, catch some balls (or at least attempt it), and then run as fast as she can down a baseline.  Both kids are already pretty worn out by the time we leave, because my son has been running about, terrorizing all of the kids that he can get to pay attention to him pretending to be Spiderman. 

10:30 AM
We leave T-ball and call a mom friend of mine with two kids of her own.  We decide to meet up at the mall, which has an indoor play area for small children.  I get to the mall and see about 20 munchkins crammed into the very small play area and take a deep breath.  Okay. 

"Shoes off kids!"  I say as I chase my son down to get his shoes.  He does this often, running away and giggling insanely as I impatiently ask him to come to mommy. 

"Hee hee, ha ha..."  This is his daily neener neener to me.  Little shit.  He thinks he is so funny, probably because he really is.

Moving on.  We wait for my friend Cyndi to arrive and then she does.  Pretty quickly after she gets there Emily has to pee.  Next its a fight to get her shoes back on so that we can walk to the bathroom without bare feet.  She just doesn't understand why she needs shoes.  She probably could have made it without them, but I'm taking precautions...who knows what's on the mall flooring??  Grabbing her and Zoe's hands (yup, now one of Cyndi's kids had to pee too), I start the short walk toward the bathroom. 

I hear a cry from my son, and I think it is in protest to me leaving him with Cyndi as supervision, so we continue walking to the bathroom.  No sooner had we exited than Cyndi comes walking up, arms full of bags and children, both Ethan and her son.  Ethan is crying, and what is that??? Blood!!!  Oh my god, what happened????

I grab my son and Cyndi tells me that he and her son ran directly into each other heading in opposite directions.  Her son's ridiculously hard head is just the right height to hit Ethan in the mouth, causing his incisor tooth to gash the interior of his poor little upper right lip.  It takes a lot to make my little boy cry, but trust me, he had to be in pain.  His right side looked like Angelina Jolie's baby while the left side was still normal and thin.  He was fine, just wanted his momma, so I soothed him softly as we walked out of the mall.  I looked at my phone to check what time it was...was this day over yet?

Only 11:15 A.M.!!!  Are you kidding me? 

We head to Chili's to grab a bite with the kids.  This day is already packed full of fun stories for my blog, and yet, it seems to not be over.  Poor Ethan.  He is in for a tough day.  Cyndi and I are in deep trivial conversation when Ethan says, "Mommy, I phrew up."

Good Lord.  This is insane.  Really?  And, myself, being the well-prepared mother that everyone knows I am, have absolutely no extra clothes.  Well, the food is already ordered, we're going to have to wait.  So I take him to the bathroom and clean him up. 

Lunch finishes with no more incidents, Cyndi and I say our goodbyes, and we head home.  The kids get put down for rest time, and I settle onto the computer to get some homework tended to.  Did I mention that the amount of homework I have this weekend is absolutely ludicrous?  I should be doing it right now, but I'm writing this blog...heheheee...

2:40 PM
After nap we head to another friend's birthday party.  Ethan seems fine at this point, so I attribute the lovely display earlier to him drinking his apple juice too fast.  We're driving in the car to go pick up my other friend's son Jaidon and take him to the party as well, when all of a sudden my daughter screams, "Mommy!!!!  Ethan is puking again!"

I glance in my rearview mirror, always positioned on the kids and see my son shooting yellow mucousy nastiness from his mouth.  The poor guy starts to cry and I am at a loss...what do I do?  Jaidon's mom is still at work, she can't pick him up.  I have to!  What about Ethan?  He can't go to a birthday party like this! 

My hero of a husband ended up picking up Ethan and taking him home to lay around all day, and the birthday party was a success, but here I am now, not out with my friends, who did invite me for drinks, I'll have you know. 

10:15 PM

Nope, I'm here, doing laundry and homework at the same time, stuck like Chuck.  But I did get to sing my babies to sleep tonight.  Plus I've got a nice bottle of Pino Grigio in the fridge.  It may just be a great evening after all.

Little rascal

My son is a monkey.  I swear.  The kid can climb pretty much anything he so desires.  It's amazing.  He knows that if he can't reach it, a stool might.  If the stool isn't tall enough, get a chair.  If the chair doesn't do it, get the bar stool.  At least all he is usually reaching for is bananas.  I guess if that's the extent I'm pretty lucky.  For some reason however, in all of his 2 1/2 years he has not even entertained the idea of climbing up to put his happy ass on the potty.  Until today.  And I was really starting to believe we might send him to high school in diapers.

Today we started potty training, officially.  So what if we've had a few other official starts before?  He is getting too big to be running around in a stinky diaper!  And I'm tired of wiping his ass!  Especially when he doesn't particularly enjoy it either...that makes it unpleasant all the way around. 

Last night we talked about big boy underwear.  He really really loves the idea of big boy underwear, so I think I might have found a reason for him to be happy with potty training.  We went to the mall today and he had 0 accidents while we were out.  I was fully prepared with three extra pairs of underwear and pants, but he did me proud.  :)

He even sat on the big potty at the mall, which is HUGE!  Not the potty, but the fact that he sat on it.  He really hates sitting on the potty too, which is hard for me, because I'm not exactly an expert and teaching a little man how to grap his weiner and pee standing up.  Do us a favor and consult your Higher Power for us, okay?  We really need to get this no more diapers thing down.  I really want to eliminate Pampers from our budget. 

Yup, this is my life.  People make shitty messes and I clean them up.  The upside is that after everything is cleaned up I can sit back and enjoy a tall vodka soda with lime.  :)

Welcome to our city!

Meltdown City.  That's where I was.  Smackdab in the middle of Meltdown City.  I am at a loss for how to control this city.  I couldn't tell you how we arrived here, but I know that I am supposed to be the ruler, and be able to apply logic and reason and order to an otherwise chaotic existence in Meltdown City.  I am, after all, the mother.  So why can't I find a logical reason for my little girl to clean her room without tears and foot stomping and door slamming and screaming (her, not me this time)?  I just can't seem to get a grasp on this.  Tell me why I am I trying to be logical and calm with my child.  I am being patient, understanding, providing answers, explaining consequences...I am supposed to be trained in dealing with illogical thought processes, so how in the world am I supposed so deal with my job if I can't even convince my own child of how to come to a conclusion that will satisfy her need to understand?

So there I sit, at the dinner table, trying to decide what to do next.  I have spent literally 3 or more hours calmly explaining to my child the what, why, how, and when of cleaning her room.  I gave her a choice, I gave her direction, I gave her the consequences of whatever choice she decided to make, and yet none of this was getting through to her. She is in her room, throwing things, hating me, hating the world, hating everything about it.  She even told me that her feet, legs, and arms hurt in order to provide an excuse for why she couldn't possibly clean her room.  Amazing.

I finally tell her calmly that she can clean her room or not clean her room.  If she made the decision to clean it up then she could come out, eat dinner with the family, and play a game of Candyland with all of us.  If she decided not to clean, the consequence would be that she had to remain in her room for the rest of the evening, including eating dinner alone in her room.
 
Apparently this was the key.  Isolation during dinner was the most awful thing that she could think of at that time, and so after freaking out a bit more she decided to hurry up and get those books on the shelf so that she wouldn't have to eat her dinner all alone.  It's amazing what makes our children tick.  You hope and pray that the choices that you make with them and for them are the correct ones, but it's times like these that you realize you are putting their values in the right place.  All of these family dinners at the table ARE important to them.  I am doing a good thing by making sure we spend at least some time together each night, because otherwise she wouldn't have cared to miss out!

Hooray for Meltdown City!!