Fuck up Mom

That's what I feel like right now.  A major league, royal class fuck up of a mother.

I have one child that thinks she's a diva who can do what she wants when she wants, in the time she wants, because she wants.

This afternoon Liv's friends came to the house to ask her to play.  She acted like I wasn't even there and said "Sure, I'll be right out."  In my day, with my mom, especially if she were standing right there, she would have knocked me down the street and told me to pick myself up and get in the house.  If I cried I would have gotten knocked out again because I knew I was wrong.  And Liv knew she was wrong.  Even her friend knew she was wrong.  Quite honestly, if it weren't for the fact that my kids need to be outside as much as possible and not on the Wii, Xbox, and tablets all the time I would have told her to go in the house.

And this isn't the first time.  I will tell her to go do something and even if I'm standing there, she will go and do something completely different.  When I remind her that she was supposed to be doing the thing I told her to do she widens her eyes and puts on that cutsey girl tone and says "Oh yeah! I forgot!" Picture every blonde ditz you've seen in the movies and that's what she looks and sounds like.  Pisses me off.  I take away all the fun stuff and you'd think that the stuff she's supposed to do would get done but no.  She find another way to slack off and give me the oh yeah I forgot crap.  And her mouth!  Sometimes the child forgets that I'm her mother and she will unleash the wrong tone on me.  You have no idea how many times I have abstained from backslapping the ever loving mess out of her.

And I know that there are some people out there who would tell me to slap the taste out of her mouth and be done with it but no.  I don't hit my kids.  I don't hit them because that means I'm madder than I should be and I have an anger problem.  I recognize that I do and if i get mad enough to actually raise my hand I don't have the turn off switch to say enough.  I run on adrenaline and usually until it's spent I can't stop.  So no, I won't hit my kids.

And then Kay. I have no idea where I went wrong.  Sometimes I don't think I did.  Sometimes  I get the feel like my child is a very high functioning Autistic child.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  Autistic children are people too and more than capable of one day taking care of themselves.  But how does one go about finding out if their child is autistic?  I have taken her to the doctor and pleaded with her to send Kay for testing and recognize that something is wrong and she sends the referral but then I get a letter saying that MedicAid won't pay for the tests.  So I can't get the tests.

But that's besides the point.  She's thirteen and she acts like a ten year old.  I love LOVE LOVE it when she draws me a picture but she draws in the manner of a five or six year old.

If I told you that my thirteen year old drew this, you might ask me how I made it look so knew after all these years.  Because obviously a child drew this.  If I corrected you and told you that my thirteen year old drew this less than a month ago, you would look at me like I had a special child.  I know you would.  Most people do.  Seriously they do.

She doesn't bathe properly.  And I have gotten in the shower to bathe with her and show how how to wash.  And those rare days which are becoming more and more that she sticks and when I say stinks, I mean that smell that the world as we know it associates with the few overweight people who can't get to every crevice on their body.  It's musty and funky all mixed together in one nauseating smell that stays in a room long after the person has left the room.  When I tell her that she stinks she says "Oh well!" or "I know" with a shrug and a face completely void of emotion.

Kids tease her at school.  Acne has hit her hard as it did with me at that age and she's little overweight as I was at her age.  She's awkward and I can't help but feel like if she wore her glasses more she wouldn't be so clumsy but then she complains that the kids call her four eyes.  If I tell her that kids have called people with glasses four eyes since the dawn of glasses she goes into conniption about how much it hurts.

And saddest of all, she has inherited my anger issues.  I've sat an watched how something innocent can make her actually mad enough to threaten someone's life.  My fear for her at school is that she's going to tell someone that she's going to kill them and she will be expelled. They have a zero tolerance policy at school now because of all the kids that went postal and if a kid so much as bites their sandwich into the shape of a gun they expel them.  Kay is just off the chain enough to threaten someone's life in the heat of an argument and there goes her school life.  

I don't know what to do anymore and tonight is one of those nights where I feel like maybe their father was right in suing me for custody.  Maybe I am a shit mom who is doing more damage than good.  

I don't know.  And that both pisses me off and scares the shit out of me...

Well... he's back...

I've been sitting here debating whether or not to actually blog about the mystery guy for the main reason that I don't actually know who is reading my blog.  I.E. by some weird twist of fate most foul, the guy that I have had a crush on for the better half of a year might read this and think I'm talking about him.

And it would be awesome if the man that has haunted my dreams for years upon years turned out to actually be him but I'm sure now, that it's not him.

Other dreams slip away as soon as I wake up and other dreams leave in large chunks but Nearly every single dream starring my mystery man has stayed on.

Last night we were at a mall.  I don't know what mall I know that I have been there before in my dreams but I don't think in real life.  The beginning is a little confounded.  My Mom was in a doctors office and my mother in law dropped the kids off to me in the car outside the mall which was also outside of the doctors office and the she said to me that my daughter K hadn't been feeling well.  So Mom gets in the car and I wheel around for a better parking spot at the mall and when she asks why I told her that there was a fast food restaurant selling whole baked chickens 3 for ten bucks.  And I take the kids inside and leave her sitting in the car.  I don't know why I just did.

Somehow we ended up at an Emergency room in the mall that was run by what I want to say were Chinese people but I don't know.  They operated out of one of those doors that half opens and they took Kay in and closed the door.  (I'm scared as hell that something is about to happen to my daughter) but in the dream I go to a hair supply store.  What I was looking for, I have no idea.  I don't know how long I was in there either but I do know a buzzer/beeper like the ones you get at restaurants when you are waiting on your table started lighting up and I went back to the half door where I was given K back.  She is a 13 yr old as tall as me don't ask me how they gave her back through the door, I can't tell you.  Then we went on our quest for the baked chicken and ended up at a McDonalds.

While my kids are harassing the people at the counter, I'm sitting at a table and watching when a man behind me starts to talk to me.  I never turned to see his face but the voice was like an old friend.  It made me feel safe and warm and loved.  Eventually he came to sit in front of me but here's the kicker.  The POV switched from mine to his.  Suddenly I was looking at myself through his eyes and I didn't look fat, or trying too hard to be cute, I looked like what I am: Just a woman.  And even I thought I looked pretty.  I had this glow around me that almost made me sparkle like The Cullens in sunlight.  He sat there and talked to me about my day and then he took my hand and told me "I'll be there soon.  I want you to know that I'm trying to get to you but everytime I think I'm close there's a roadblock in my way."  And I told him that I would be here waiting.  He then told me that I have no idea how much he loves me.  He wished he could show me; he wished he could show me.  And then he did something that I'm not sure he's done ever: we both stood up and he just held me.  Not tight, not in a sexual way, just stood there, and held me. And suddenly I was back in my body and all my feelings of resentment, and strain, and stress were gone.  I felt nothing but happy, safe, and loved for that one moment and then he said he had to go and I watched his back as he walked away.  He's still tall.  But not so much taller than me. He's lost weight since I last saw him because he's thinner from the back. Sandy light brown or dark blonde hair that's cut but not short short and he was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.

He doesn't have an accent anymore.  I take that to mean that he's from down here as the Southern accent doesn't stand out to me anymore. Once in the past he had a British accent but I had just finished a movie set in England so that might have had something to do with it.  Most other times he's had a twang or a Southern accent.  Last night he was just talking and there was no accent that stood out.

And as I watched him walk away, there was no crying, no longing or holding out my hand to pull him back, because he said he'd be here soon and that's what I clung to.

And then my kids came back from the counter with the manager who looked like Idris Elba and I woke up because my mother in law was calling me.

I am a good girl who believes in God and all that I *supposed* to believe in but I can't understand why it is that I can't find this guy or that he apparently can't find me in any other place than my crazy ass dreams.  Why does He let me develop crushes on men but make it so that they don't want me.  Being alone sucks ass.  I might as well be the freaking Sahara Desert because no one wants to be here.

Maybe his appearing is to shore me up since Valentines days is quickly approaching.  It will be here in exactly one month from today and there is no way in hell that anyone is going to ask me out.  I'm not that lucky.

Where are you mystery guy?  Next time we dream meet can you tell me what roadblocks are in your way?  Maybe I can help you get through them.  It's more than I want you.  I need you.  I think you are the safety line that keeps me from spinning off into full blown crazy but the rope is starting to fray.

Ugh, blogging didn't help and I still never got my baked chicken!

Stay Frosty Bloggers.  Or stay frosty out there because I'm about to turn up the heat here. Ciao!