Hellacopter

Hee hee.

I was scheduling an appointment for a patient and fatfingered the time.  I put him in for 1:43 instead of the allotted :30 or :00 times, so I cancelled that appointment and for the reason, I tried to write “typo” and instead wrote “type.” I move so fast in this program that I had already hit return by the time I read my mistake.  My laugh came out as a snort while I was still on the phone with the patient.

I had a good ding-dong moment on Saturday.  I bought a new coat on clearance and it has a zippy attached/removable liner.  I came in from some errand and unzipped my coat and tried to take it off.  I could not.  I made sure I was holding onto the sleeve of the zippy and pulled again.  Nothing.  I started to get confused, frustrated.  I could not get out of my coat.  Then I looked down and realized that the coat was unzipped, but the zippy was not.  I laughed so hard at myself that I was doubled over.

Finally, I have some disturbing news.  My apartment is haunted.  Or maybe just the light in the combination hall closet/pantry.  It actually has no light, so Dad bought me one of those stick-on round, push button lights.  You push the whole circle down, like something that has a similar action that I can’t remember right now.  Somebody tell me if you know what I’m talking about.  Maybe I’m thinking of the Bop-It.  Anyway, so this light requires someone to push it- really click it in- to turn it on.  I mean, really push it.  Sometimes it takes me a few attempts.  It turns off on its own after about a minute.  So why in the hell, this morning when I went to grab the cat food and I had been asleep all night, was it on?  It’s not like I brushed against it, and even if I did, that shouldn’t have worked anyway.  Creeeeeeeepy.

I took Ant to the arcade yesterday.  I was wondering how this would go and I think I’ve written here that I’m not quite sure how to go about a changed relationship with him and if I want to, or if that’s just because of how awkward and awful this whole situation is.  Plus, I’ve been hearing terrible things: that he’s out of control, acting like an asshole, doing whatever he wants, going crazy when he’s punished, etc.  It’s not that I’m asking for these updates, mind you.  I told Chris recently that I would take Ant in a heartbeat if something happened to him and if that’s what he wanted.  Chris told me that I didn’t want to deal with an out-of-control teenager, and furthermore, it was beyond what I could handle.  At the time, I said that was how I felt and what I was willing to do regardless.  Later, I talked to Dad and he pointed out that I was actually a subject matter expert, as I had been around Ant way more than Chris had for the last five years, and that I had been the consistent disciplinarian.  That’s true, and Ant behaved way better around me than he ever behaved with Chris.  This is not to say that he is not an out-of-control teenager, but it seems to me after talking to him yesterday that the things he’s doing are relatively tame, and being done in a reasonably safe way.  Did I hear everything?  Of course not.  Does Chris?  I’m betting no.  Chris was talking about how Ant just does what he wants, and anytime Chris tries to punish him, he freaks out and Chris has to relent.  (What?)  Ant says that he’s got his three regular chores he has to do all the time, and he’s taking care of the dogs (Don’t ask). He says he is doing ok in school, attempting to keep up on hygiene, and said that he pretty much watches out for himself these days.  (Please don’t think that I am happy about any of this.)  Chris seems under the impression that this situation is a mess, but I got the impression from Ant that he feels he is towing the line.  He also said he feels like “they” are testing him, meaning Chris and the ugly, disgusting tramp from hell.  That pronoun made me wince, but I tried not to show it.  The saddest thing was when he told me that sometimes he wakes up and hears me talking to Chris and thinks everything is how it used to be, then realizes that it’s not me he’s hearing.  Deep breath.

We had a good time.  Chris dropped him off at my place, and we talked while I finished gathering up the trash and other chores.  Riley was very excited to see him and they greeted each other for a while.  When she calmed down, she flopped down on the comforter I keep on the floor.  “Riley, are you allowed on that blanket?” he asked her.  He helped me grab the trash and we did most of our catching up before we even left the apartment.  When he came in, we hugged him for a long time and I was immediately struck by how much I love this kid.

“I’ve really missed you.”

“I really missed you, too.”

L

He cuddled Solo and wanted to see her climbing on the cat shelves.  She opted not to perform on command.  We went to eat and then to the arcade at the Atlantis.  He said lots of thank yous and was very polite.  He invited me to join him on some games, and we played air hockey together.  I beat him, but not by much, because we were very evenly matched.  He handled losing well.  We went twice on the roller coaster simulator complete with fans and jerking, jolting, buzzing seats.  It was headache inducing because your head would smack on the back of the seat, but it was fun.  We did the little coal trolley track and then he chose the view from inside a pinball machine.  That one was awesome.  After he exhausted the Groupon funds and redeemed him tickets for some cheap toys and candy, we rode the glass elevators up to the 18^th floor and back a couple times.  He wanted to throw his parachute man off the elevator, but as there was no way to do that, he settled for the staircase.  The opening between the stairs was so narrow that there was no room for a parachute.  Even then, the opening was so narrow that the man would bounce off the railing only one floor down.

“Fail,” Ant would say.

He tried a couple times, but it didn’t work, so we left our fallen man behind and rode the elevator back down.  We went to Ross and I bought him some $20 shoes- nothing fancy, but his were the same ones he’d gotten from a friend when I was still there, and they were looking pretty torn up.  We got the shoes he picked out in a size with a little room to grow, and he had to tie them to keep them on, rather than just tucking the laces in as he has been doing.  What a novel idea!

We went to Wal-Mart to search for red shoelaces to match the shoes, and I asked him if he remembered what a Disneyland Dad is.  He said he remembered us talking about that a long time ago… “All fun, no discipline?”  Exactly.  I pointed out that we’d done special things: gone to lunch, played at the arcade, bought new shoes, and that these things kind of work out unevenly after divorce, because “how am I supposed to discipline you?”

“You can’t.”

“Exactly.”

Ant thought for a moment, then said, “So you are one, then.  You are a Disneyland Mom!”

I would feel bad for spoiling him except that he was so helpful and polite before he even knew what was in store.  And I didn’t give him much for his combination birthday/Christmas presents.  Besides, it was shoes.  It is near impossible to keep any kid in shoes.

“Shoes!” he sang as we walked to the car.

I know that feeling.