The kids are asleep. The husband is asleep. The dishes are done. The laundry is done. Not up for sewing....My eyes are sleepy and tired. But I can't sleep. I have too many things going through my head.
This morning the kids and I went to play at the park with one of our play groups and it ended in meltdown, and scary driving adventures. Anthony was busy climbing trees with older kids, while the younger kids played with a parachute and balls and sang songs and such. Anyway, he missed out on the parachute because he was playing elsewhere, and then threw a whopper of a fit when it was time to leave. I seriously would like some input here! Crying- yes. Kicking-yes. Hitting- yes. Stiffness while trying to buckle him in- yes. So what do I do? I sit on his lap so I can get him buckled so we can leave before the seriously old, mean looking, security guard calls the police for thinking I am kidnapping or something. Wow. That was not fun. He didn't stop though, just because I was driving. He continued until we got to the Main Gate and saw the MP's looking at him funny. And then all was well. In his words, "I'm happy now, Mama!", with big cheesy grin. (I distinctly recall my sister doing things like this when we were little. ) So, anyway...in that situation, what would you do? Nice and understanding doesn't seem to work. Gentle and calm doesn't seem to work. The only thing that seems to work is MAKING him do what he needs to do--physically. He's getting big. Someday I won't be able to sit on his lap to buckle him in the car. And by the way...I'm not squishing him, you crazy child-abuse spotters. I'm just holding him in place. Geez. :)
Yeah, so that is on my mind.
Also on my mind is the neighbor who came over at 9pm to borrow some eggs and share a kidnapping story with us. See, now I'm going to be paranoid. Even more. Some little girl up the street was taken right off the street. Supposedly. The neighbor who shared this said that her crazy neighbor shared the story with her, so who knows if it's true. But, at any rate, the point is...WATCH YOUR CHILDREN. Some people around here just let their kids run free at any time of the day or night. It's quite scary. So if you think my sitting on my kids lap is scary, you should investigate the moms who let their 2 year olds wander the neighborhood while they take an all day "nap". At least I care enough to try to understand why my kid is throwing a fit, rather than let some other mom wonder about it. The kids who end up at my house....I decided that I'm just going to treat them as my own. I yell at them. I make them clean up the toys when they make a mess in the kids room, I make them stop swearing and throwing mud. What the heck is wrong with these kids parents? That the kids come here and obey me like I'm the boss of them? Well, I mean, I am when they are in my house, but you get the point. Yesterday, rather than going home to his mom, a boy came to my front door with about 5 other kids in tow sobbing his little heart out because he cut his knee up and needed a band aide. As sad as it seemed, and as much as I would have helped, I told him to go home to his mom for help. And then I heard him crying even louder all the way home. That kind of made me feel crappy, but he needed his mom to take care of him. I'm seriously starting to think that people should be given parenting lessons, and have to pass them before they can have children. Kids need to be told what to do. Don't people know that? So yeah, take care of your children.
So that's on my mind too.
My husband is seriously hating his job here. He likes to share it with me a lot. Like when he wakes up at 5:30 in the morning. When he calls to check in at lunch, he likes to share how retarded he thinks whoever is for whatever retarded thing they did. And at night when someone calls at 8:30 to tell him he has to be there even earlier for some "retarded thing". Someone pray for a miracle, because I don't think I can live with him having to live with these "retarded" people forever. (I love you, honey!) It's very stressful because I run into these people and don't even know who they are. I know like one of the people my husband works with. Knowing me, I will meet someones wife and talk about what a retard her husband is and not find out until later who she was. That would just be peachy. (I don't really talk about "retards". But it's something that crosses my mind as something that I might do in a moment of "retardedness".)
Ok, I have to stop now because I'm making myself laugh. I'm going to stop thinking and go to bed.
I hope everyones Friday is great! And retarded-less. And free of vagrant children.