Note: I started this post going one direction, and it’s SQUIRRELING in 5 different directions, so this will be a multi-part post.
This morning I came across another blog from The Daily Post who challenged us to look at things from another perspective. And I recalled the PERFECT story:
As many of you know, unfortunately it does not take brains to reproduce, and in light of that I have 2 children. Now I realize that some of my readers are not able to have children, and I am sensitive to that, however, sometimes it REALLY IS better to be an Aunt than a mom. Add to this the fact that they are MY children! Remember when you were a kid and you did something REALLY stupid and got into MAJOR trouble with your mom? Inevitably my mother would always finish the punishment/conversation with that ominous phrase: “Some day I hope you ave a child JUST like you!” And there it was: she OFFICIALLY invoked what I refer to as “The Mother’s Curse“, and in my case, I was probably cursed somewhere in the neighborhood of a few hundred times (I really WAS a HORRIBLE child- and you will be regaled with some tales in later blogs).
And so it happened one day POOF I was pregnant. I quickly discovered my body does NOT do pregnancy well, and it was a horrid, miserable pregnancy. First all the “mothers” told me it was “just morning sickness”. I QUICKLY found out that was not the case. I was diagnosed with “Hyperemesis gravidarum” and it’s a fate worse than death. All day long you can’t eat, drink, smell food or even move or you heave uncontrollably. All day and night. But after my son Jonah was born, he was a delightful happy, laid-back little dude just like his daddy, despite some neurological and health issues, and it seemed that, by the Grace of God, I had dodged the curse.
Fast forward 7 years, and suddenly my sweet, laid-back little boy is a moody, emotionally unstable little boy- *BAM* the curse took a few years to manifest, but there it was: Jonah is just as crazy and emotionally unstable as me. Poor sucker. A great crowning example was this Sunday: I was folding laundry upstairs when suddenly I hear hysterically wiling, followed by Jonah flying up the stairs and throwing himself on the bed. I brace myself for the worst: a goldfish must have died. Or the dog got out and got hit by a car. Whatever it was it was going to be bad. The following is direct dialog from the conversation:
“Jonah what’s wrong?” I ask as I brace myself for the death of a pet. After screaming a sentence something hysterically 3 times. I said, “Buddy, you have to take a deep breath and try and calm down so I can understand you. You know my ears don’t work well when you are upset.” I lied. My ears work fine, Jonah has a moderate to severe speech impediment, which makes understanding him when emotional all but impossible:After screaming a sentence something hysterically 3 times, the fourth time I got it.
“DADDY RUINED MY WAFFLE!!
I was stunned into silence, and was biting my tongue until I was practically bleeding so that I wouldn’t be too hasty and harsh. There HAD to be SOME good explanation, so I replied with: “Buddy, HOW did her ruin it? They are toaster waffles, and it’s pretty hard to ruin toaster waffles.”
Then he looked at me, with hysteria creeping up into his big, blue eyes: “HE PUT THE SYRUP ON THE SIDE!!! HE RUINED THEM!! THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!”
As he crumpled onto his bed in total emotional defeat, I had to RUN back to my room because I was caught dead between collapsing to the ground in uncontrollable laughter, and wanting to choke him for being dramatic and scaring me.
Just as I was composing my laughter, I was going to go scold him for his drama when I realized that, from the perspective (see what I did there) of an overtired emotional 8 year old it was the end of the world.
Though I’m pretty sure some of his bigger issues are my fault. One fo the more entertaining incidents happened while I was… wait for it… just SHAVING my LEGS! But that’s another story for another blog.