Will this chaos ever end? OR Am I just too old for this?

So, as some of you may know, I recently turned 40. Whoohoo!!! I was actually excited about this milestone but recent events made me doubt my sanity (okay, I confess the doubting of my sanity is a regularly occurring process, but you get my point). The week before Thanksgiving we had our annual audit. Let me just say that auditors just LOVE the development department. Aside from the business office, my department (a.k.a just me) is the most popular place for a CPA to materialize out of nowhere – much like a scene from a Harry Potter movie. I swear I really do need that “Marauder’s Map.”

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving is our annual elementary Grandparents’ and Special Friends’ Day. While this is a PTO event, I somehow wind up with every phone call/e-mail there is regarding questions about this event. Not to mention that it is a noon dismissal so I have to cram everything humanly possible into five and a half hours – what fun! This is only exceeded in excitement quotient by shopping for the five additional in-laws that have decided to join us for our traditional Thanksgiving feast on Thursday. A great time was had by all and the event was the precursor to my mother-in-law’s birthday party on Friday and a surprise birthday party for me thrown by my husband on Saturday. Yes, I did gain weight during that stint – a whopping six pounds! Hello? This didn’t use to happen. Or if it did, all I needed to do was run a few miles every day and that would disappear. Apparently, the Birthday Fairy has a sick sense of humor and decided to reverse that trend without the courtesy e-mail. Not the first time I will label her as the Beotch General in this post…

Let me give a tale of foreshadowing to explain this recent predicament. A couple of years ago I tore the ACL and meniscus in each leg within 6 months of each other. Recently, I finally went back to the orthopedist to figure out why my, well, tuchus (butt) and lower back hurt most days that I am awake. It was determined that I had a pinched sciatic nerve and an MRI was ordered to find out the plan of action: steroid injections or surgery. Either way the doc said no more running. It is here that I must pause and pay homage to the Beotch General.

But the saga doesn’t end there. After crying in the doc’s office, on the way back to work, at work, and at home; I decided that I must cross off the running with the bulls in Pamplona from my bucket list. However, after listening to encourage stories from my friends and co-workers, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel that this might actually be able to be fixed.

That was until this weekend. For those of you that don’t know, Shelby and I have an agreement that if one of us leaves the other, then the leaving partner must also take the children. For the record, I will NEVER leave Shelby regardless of the circumstances. Shelby and oldest Christopher left Friday afternoon for a Boy Scout campout that lasted through Sunday. What joy! I could spend some special time with the two youngest children. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?! Up until this weekend, I was seriously considering trying for another child. NOT NOW. I can’t handle the ones I have! Thanks to the Beotch General’s sister, the mommy fairy a.k.a. the 2nd Beotch in Command. Anyway, enough pointing fingers.

Let me just say that these children of mine have one hell of a time waking up in the morning to go to school, yet on the weekends when we could all sleep they pop up like Whack-a-Moles. Did I mention they also, particularly youngest Alex, feel the need to wake me up to pose as a playmate? Never their father. Just me. I woke up around 5:00 a.m. on Saturday with a stomach bug. I went back to sleep only to encounter the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet and those fingers that pry open my eyelids while announcing “Hi, mommy! You get up now.” Even after getting him everything that he could possibly need, his highness ordained that there would be no sleeping by the surfs.

It is here that I must stop and place a disclaimer. While I would like to say the people in this blog are fictitious, I have to admit that they are not. For those of you that happen to appear on the radar and make it into the blog, you know I love you and mean no disrespect. HOWEVER, it is my blog and I’ll cry if I want to. J

Aside from the usual family issues, there are a few things that make me go “Hhhhmmm.” The first is using a cell phone while in the bathroom. I just don’t get why you would want to go pee while talking to someone. I mean, what do you say? “Wait, say that again – I was pishing.” But it’s not just that, today, I actually heard someone talking while in the bathroom located DOWN THE HALL from my office. Seriously, who in the hell are they talking to? Gone are the days when you have to talk louder for a long distance call (or in this case, down the flipping’ block!).

The next thing I found my self pondering recently was a particular holiday song. If you live in the same Nielson market as I do, Christmas songs are played nonstop on some radio channels from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Day. As if this isn’t a little overkill, one particular song actually gave me pause to ponder. I know, same topic different tune, but not this one. How many of you remember the Band Aid song “Do they know it’s Christmas?” recorded back in 1984 to help with the famine in Ethiopia? While I know that Ethiopia is one of the oldest Christian states with approximately 61% of the population being Christian, what about the other almost 40% made up of Muslim, Jews, Baha’i, and Animism? My point here is this: even if that 40% knew it was Christmas, would they even care? I mean, what about El Id, Chanukah, and whatever else? Just sayin’…

The next thing I’ve been pondering is the biggest lie of all: that the “twos” are terrible. Honestly, and forgive my French, but BULLSHIT! Every one of my children and those that have ever been in my care as a teacher, it isn’t until they turn three that they become “terrible”, and that’s putting it mildly. You might have read my FB post about youngest Alex’s chocolate gelt/bathtub incident. I couldn’t get him into the tub so I bribed him with the precious chocolate. Of course, it started to melt in the warm water when his itchy nose required the picking by a chocolate covered finger. Apparently, chocolate burns the mucus membranes so he started rubbing his face profusely to alleviate the pain all the while spreading chocolate all over his face like a Nutella sandwich. What do I do – run to wash his face or grab the camera? Check out Facebook to figure out which one I choose…

Last but not least is why is it that the moment you start some project/endeavor/go to the bathroom; someone wants attention? For those of you out there who are familiar with the Brady Bunch, you get this. Simon suffers from middle child syndrome. I swear he’s going to bust out with “It’s always ‘Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!’”. We were in the pediatrician’s office today for a multi-child visit – meds update and flu shots on the house. The minute someone other than middle Simon got attention, he started in on his most stellar behaviour. He put his feet in the air, sang songs under his breathe, and, at one point, literally hung upside down in his chair with his little scrawny ass pointing skyward! And I might as well forget about trying to make dinner while I’m helping him with his homework. The child morphs into some resemblance of the Tasmanian devil.

I know this is a long post (it’s been a while and I’ve stock-piled a LOT! J ), but I have recently seen a light at the end of the tunnel. Oldest Christopher has occasionally shown glimpses of the person I think he will become. Don’t get me wrong, he still rolls his eyes at me and frequently uses the phrase “Mom!” with such vehemence that I think he could raise the Titanic with the fluctuation. But more and more, he’s become someone that I actually LIKE. Several times in the past month, he has shown the patience of a saint when he takes over with youngest Alex after I’ve thrown in the towel and called the Greensheet to file a listing for a child for sale. He recently decided he wanted to get a Christmas present for middle Simon. Not only did he really want to keep it a secret, he was genuinely concerned (with tears in his eyes) when he thought it wouldn’t make it in time. He opens doors for ladies and respects his elders (alright, except for me and his father), he volunteers, and performs mitzvot. After Christopher took over during a particularly trying time with Alex, I had a flashback of all the special moments with my “baby” Christopher. I remember labor, delivery, and the first few days at home. I remember his first day of pre-school, his first trip abroad, sending my brother off to war, and the day we buried him with full military honor. I remember his excitement of having a baby brother, moving to New Orleans, and his experience of wonder at living in the Crescent City. During that period, he took his little stuffed bear named “David” everywhere we went. He also learned about disappointment when his pets where stolen, our car was stolen, and we moved back to Houston while leaving his dad in New Orleans for another five months. Fast forward to elementary school, cub scouts, summer sleep-away camp, boy scouts, and elementary graduation – don’t get me started there, I cried at every “last” he experienced in fifth grade!

So what is the take away here? Life is absurd and full of chaos and confusion. But that’s okay. They say that what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger. Somebody really twisted came up with that line! I think that life hands us a series of “teachable moments.” These are the times that our children see what is going on and look to us for cues on how to react. Honestly, there are a great many times that we say, “Holy crap! Now what? Who on earth or in heaven seriously thought I was equipped for this job of parenting?” or, more frequently, “Really? What in the hell did I do to deserve THIS?” I am here to help (my psychiatrist would probably tell you to ignore the woman behind the curtain, but, hey, you’ve read this far, right?). While I sometimes don’t practice what I preach, I know deep-down that I am so blessed. I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, sibling, friend, co-worker, volunteer, and so much more. There are times that I feel invisible, inferior, and unappreciated; but all I need to do is look at the many avenues I traverse and see how many lives I touch and in which way I make a difference. My advice to you who are reading this is to pat yourself on the back, thumb your nose at everyone that complains or disagrees, find a quiet place, sit back, and enjoy your poison be it booze, chocolate, shopping, or whatever. After all, while this isn’t what we signed up for, it is ours and accounts for so many blessings!