Ant came to the doorway of my bedroom, exclaimed "TO-DO!" and shook his foot at me. Naturally, I was confused.
"To do?" I asked.
"To do!" he sang.
I showed him my palms and shook my head. "I don't understand."
"My feet!" he said. "They don't smell anymore! I was at Bubba's and I took my shoes off and I was like, oh wow, my feet don't smell!"
"Oh, you mean Ta-da!" I said.
"Tuh-duh?" he asked.
"TAAAHH-DAAAHH," I enunciated.
"Oh. Ta-da."
"TA-DA!" I sang with jazz hands.
"TA-DA!" he sang back.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Math Gimp
Garrrrgggh! I cannot type on a laptop without hitting the... what the hell is that area called? Mouse thingee. I end up cutting entire sections out of my papers, throwing the cursor halfway up the page and becoming a curser myself.
The rest of the class is reading As I Lay Dying. I took my counselor's advice and read the Wikipedia entry first so I could pick up on the important stuff more easily and the plot horrified me. Why are all the "Great American Novels" so depressing?
Last night Ant and I hit Blockbuster to find Unforgiven for him to watch with Chris's dad, as per his request. They didn't have it so we got something else and while we were at the counter, Ant saw this cheat code book that he wanted to get the last time we were there. It was $7.99.
"Ahhh, Jenny can I?"
"Sure."
He pulls out eight dollars and hands over the book. The cashier rings him up and says, "8.61." Ant is searching through his change and I say, "The sign says all game books are on clearance for 75% off."
"Oh," she says. "Let me get the calculator."
Ant giggles. "It's calculator time!"
The cashier says, "75% of 7.99 is... six dollars? That can't be right..."
"No, that's right." I said. "Ten percent of eight dollars is 80 cents, 8 times 7 is 56, so 5.60, plus the five percent is half of .80, so 40 cents, so 5.60 plus .40 is 6.00 off."
"Works for me," said the cashier.
Ant put most of his money away and we walked out.
"Huh? Huh?" I asked, grinning.
"Thank you," Ant said. "I'm going to call you Math Jenny."
Today I saved him more money when I gave him a coupon for his latest craft love. I know it as gimp, the people at JoAnn call it "craft string." When we left he said he was going to call me "Coupon Jenny."
"I thought I was Math Jenny."
"No, you're Coupon Jenny. I'm Math Anthony."
"Yeah, let's go look at your math workbook," I said. "Then we'll see if you're really Math Anthony."
I would like to take a moment to point out that I learned both of those skills from Mom. In any other situation I can't do percentages, but involve a sale and I'm a math wizard. Thanks, Ma! :D
The rest of the class is reading As I Lay Dying. I took my counselor's advice and read the Wikipedia entry first so I could pick up on the important stuff more easily and the plot horrified me. Why are all the "Great American Novels" so depressing?
Last night Ant and I hit Blockbuster to find Unforgiven for him to watch with Chris's dad, as per his request. They didn't have it so we got something else and while we were at the counter, Ant saw this cheat code book that he wanted to get the last time we were there. It was $7.99.
"Ahhh, Jenny can I?"
"Sure."
He pulls out eight dollars and hands over the book. The cashier rings him up and says, "8.61." Ant is searching through his change and I say, "The sign says all game books are on clearance for 75% off."
"Oh," she says. "Let me get the calculator."
Ant giggles. "It's calculator time!"
The cashier says, "75% of 7.99 is... six dollars? That can't be right..."
"No, that's right." I said. "Ten percent of eight dollars is 80 cents, 8 times 7 is 56, so 5.60, plus the five percent is half of .80, so 40 cents, so 5.60 plus .40 is 6.00 off."
"Works for me," said the cashier.
Ant put most of his money away and we walked out.
"Huh? Huh?" I asked, grinning.
"Thank you," Ant said. "I'm going to call you Math Jenny."
Today I saved him more money when I gave him a coupon for his latest craft love. I know it as gimp, the people at JoAnn call it "craft string." When we left he said he was going to call me "Coupon Jenny."
"I thought I was Math Jenny."
"No, you're Coupon Jenny. I'm Math Anthony."
"Yeah, let's go look at your math workbook," I said. "Then we'll see if you're really Math Anthony."
I would like to take a moment to point out that I learned both of those skills from Mom. In any other situation I can't do percentages, but involve a sale and I'm a math wizard. Thanks, Ma! :D
Monday, September 12, 2011
New Formats Suck
And so do new classes. The four classes would have been more than enough to keep me busy but I needed more credits, garrrggghhh. Why did my advisor recommend a class where I would have to do two weeks worth of work every week in order to finish in time to graduate? GODDAMMIT! I just spent the last oh... 15 hours working on that class alone. I am frigging exhausted. I can't host sleepovers. It is impossible to accomplish anything. I can't answer the phone. Yesterday I didn't get nearly enough done and I spent probably six hours on this goddamn correspondence class. You ASSHOLE!
Now I get to go find my copy of A Farewell to Arms and try to read as much as possible tonight. Tomorrow I have to finish it, write a response, and prepare to do a panel on Tuesday. I also have to do photography homework, I don't even remember what. And two VA appointments. Looks like Chris is making dinner.
Oh- so he told the manager of the ball field that you can't understand anything behind home plate because of the speaker placement. The manager invited him to direct where they should be moved and said he may have a job in the booth next year. And because I forgot to tell you before, Thursday night he got lots of compliments at work, one from some important events guy in the area. And one of the band guys called Chris the best sound guy in Reno. Niiiiiiiice!
Ant had his first kiss last night. He and Bubba were hanging out out front, double dating. Bubba's girlfriend lives over here- they only see each other when Bubba stays over. Ant's girlfriend lives downstairs in our building. Oh my god, I am unprepared for this. He didn't tell me, he told Chris- voluntarily. I didn't know whether to be alarmed at the kiss or upset that he didn't tell me. This sucks. I take care of Jasmine and Ant day in and day out and they both like him better. I said this to Chris in the car.
"That's not true!" he said to me.
"Go kiss Mommy," he whispered to the dog.
Now I get to go find my copy of A Farewell to Arms and try to read as much as possible tonight. Tomorrow I have to finish it, write a response, and prepare to do a panel on Tuesday. I also have to do photography homework, I don't even remember what. And two VA appointments. Looks like Chris is making dinner.
Oh- so he told the manager of the ball field that you can't understand anything behind home plate because of the speaker placement. The manager invited him to direct where they should be moved and said he may have a job in the booth next year. And because I forgot to tell you before, Thursday night he got lots of compliments at work, one from some important events guy in the area. And one of the band guys called Chris the best sound guy in Reno. Niiiiiiiice!
Ant had his first kiss last night. He and Bubba were hanging out out front, double dating. Bubba's girlfriend lives over here- they only see each other when Bubba stays over. Ant's girlfriend lives downstairs in our building. Oh my god, I am unprepared for this. He didn't tell me, he told Chris- voluntarily. I didn't know whether to be alarmed at the kiss or upset that he didn't tell me. This sucks. I take care of Jasmine and Ant day in and day out and they both like him better. I said this to Chris in the car.
"That's not true!" he said to me.
"Go kiss Mommy," he whispered to the dog.
Friday, September 9, 2011
A prize goes to anyone who can decipher this riddle.
I started my new English class. It's taught by my advisor but run by the independent learning program. This program is separate from the regular classes, and just signing up is unnecessarily complicated. There are all sorts of weird requirements and limitations, but my advisor has been teaching through this program for several years and has the final authority over his own class. He said he intervenes on behalf on his students all the time, and that I should just let him know about any questions or problems I have.
I read the syllabus, then the rules for the program. I know they limit the number of lessons I can turn in per week, but then I came across these puzzling guidelines:
"Number of submissions allowed per week (Monday to Sunday): alternate 2, 2, then 4"
I emailed my advisor to ask him what on earth that meant. Here is his reply:
I read the syllabus, then the rules for the program. I know they limit the number of lessons I can turn in per week, but then I came across these puzzling guidelines:
"Number of submissions allowed per week (Monday to Sunday): alternate 2, 2, then 4"
I emailed my advisor to ask him what on earth that meant. Here is his reply:
Yeah, Jenny, send in 1-4. I can explain the 2, 2, then 4 but I have to refresh my Babylonian widget and consult with sociopathic psychics first. Just fire away with those lessons.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Thank you, Ant!
This is how Ant works:
All evening he's been a giant pest. Sarcastic and argumentative, pushing my limits and every other available boundary. He argued about anything he could think of. It went like this for the last four hours, from dropping Chris off to the grocery store and through our walk. I was done- completely ready to dangle him out the window- when he came into the living room. "I have a present for you," he said. "It came today."
He got me Mockingjay, the third and final book in the Hunger Games series. I read it because I'd heard so much about it and burned through it. I made him read the first book for one of those errant book reports last year. He ate it up and stole my Entertainment Weekly when the cover story was about the Hunger Games movie. I got the second book for my birthday and Ant ordered the third one right after that.
What a sweetheart. :D
All evening he's been a giant pest. Sarcastic and argumentative, pushing my limits and every other available boundary. He argued about anything he could think of. It went like this for the last four hours, from dropping Chris off to the grocery store and through our walk. I was done- completely ready to dangle him out the window- when he came into the living room. "I have a present for you," he said. "It came today."
He got me Mockingjay, the third and final book in the Hunger Games series. I read it because I'd heard so much about it and burned through it. I made him read the first book for one of those errant book reports last year. He ate it up and stole my Entertainment Weekly when the cover story was about the Hunger Games movie. I got the second book for my birthday and Ant ordered the third one right after that.
What a sweetheart. :D
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Oh look, a blog!
"I know how to make a bomb."
Ant was laying on the floor of the Pickle Parlor making boy noises when he suddenly offered that information. I looked at him with sunken eyebrows.
"I DO!" he said. "I learned it at school!"
Don't worry, apparently he's talking about a paper bomb made out of a post-it note, whatever the hell that means.
Chris and I looked at a house today and were so excited about it that we applied for it immediately. I am feeling very nervous, but I always do when we're about to hand over a bunch of money for anything. Eeeeee!
I went out to Topaz on Monday to pick Ant up- he came up to give me a hug and say hello, but when he came into the house he was really snotty. He was talking back, disobeying, and arguing with me over every possible thing. He started kicking his soccer ball around the house and I gave him a look. When he didn't stop I asked, "Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Can you stop now?"
"No."
Okay, give me the ball. We left soon after and he pouted in the Dodge.
"You know, you take things away that you give to me, but I don't think it's fair for you to take things I've bought... or gotten... by myself."
HA HA HA HA HA H.. oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying? Yeah, that's really cute and all, but it doesn't work like that. And what was that "gotten" comment? It's not like I'm going to give your soccer ball to someone else- it's still YOURS- but you lose it when you act like a ding-dong and don't do what you're asked.
All this is obvious, but he was still surly and pissy and spitty and fuming. I kept interrogating him- yes, you are becoming a surly teenager, but why were you snotty upon walking in the door? We were almost to Carson City when he finally told me what was up. He showed me the hundred dollar bill in his wallet. At first I thought he was trying to distract me and then I realized that it was his answer. "YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME SPEND IT ON SOMETHING I DON'T WANT TO LIKE THE BANK!"
Oh, good grief. THIS is what you're flipping your lid over?
"Yeah... I didn't want to tell you about it, but I don't like keeping things from you, Jenny!"
Wowwwwwwwww. I'm gonna need a moment.
So I told him that we could talk about what to do with it, but I would be involved. He told me he wanted the iPod touch or a TracFone. As if. But we'll figure it out. I pointed out to him that while he didn't want me to know about it, he behaved like such a poopy pants that he ended up in trouble and suffering interrogation.
"Trrruuuuee," he said.
In other Ant news, last week he took some sort of math test.
"On what?" I asked.
"EVERYTHING."
"What does that mean?"
"Everything we've ever done! Ever! Our whole lives!"
Wow, I would fail that test. But he didn't. He and another girl got the highest grades in the class. And guess why? (Can you see me dancing over here?) We have been doing math together. When they go over a lesson in school he watches and thinks he understands how it works but can't repeat it later. We go over it again and iron out confusion and silly mistakes. So far our work at home has aligned with what they're doing in school and he has said many times that it's getting easier. YAY!!!! One of the problems he had was remembering his times tables. I got him some flash cards and he has been voluntarily working with those. We keep them in the car and randomly quiz him. We're teaching him the tricks with nines and just practicing, practicing, practicing. And it's paying off.
I told Dad about that and the $100. ($100! It was from Chris's uncle- the one who started giving Ant $100 Toys R Us gift cards when he found out I was making him save half.) Dad was also taken aback at how over the top that was, but he was really impressed with Ant not wanting to keep things from me and the math test.
"Awww," he said. "Jenny, take him to get an ice cream from me. Spoil his dinner!" So I did. He couldn't eat a lot of it so he put it in the freezer, where Chris found it and that was the end of that.
Ant was laying on the floor of the Pickle Parlor making boy noises when he suddenly offered that information. I looked at him with sunken eyebrows.
"I DO!" he said. "I learned it at school!"
Don't worry, apparently he's talking about a paper bomb made out of a post-it note, whatever the hell that means.
Chris and I looked at a house today and were so excited about it that we applied for it immediately. I am feeling very nervous, but I always do when we're about to hand over a bunch of money for anything. Eeeeee!
I went out to Topaz on Monday to pick Ant up- he came up to give me a hug and say hello, but when he came into the house he was really snotty. He was talking back, disobeying, and arguing with me over every possible thing. He started kicking his soccer ball around the house and I gave him a look. When he didn't stop I asked, "Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Can you stop now?"
"No."
Okay, give me the ball. We left soon after and he pouted in the Dodge.
"You know, you take things away that you give to me, but I don't think it's fair for you to take things I've bought... or gotten... by myself."
HA HA HA HA HA H.. oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying? Yeah, that's really cute and all, but it doesn't work like that. And what was that "gotten" comment? It's not like I'm going to give your soccer ball to someone else- it's still YOURS- but you lose it when you act like a ding-dong and don't do what you're asked.
All this is obvious, but he was still surly and pissy and spitty and fuming. I kept interrogating him- yes, you are becoming a surly teenager, but why were you snotty upon walking in the door? We were almost to Carson City when he finally told me what was up. He showed me the hundred dollar bill in his wallet. At first I thought he was trying to distract me and then I realized that it was his answer. "YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME SPEND IT ON SOMETHING I DON'T WANT TO LIKE THE BANK!"
Oh, good grief. THIS is what you're flipping your lid over?
"Yeah... I didn't want to tell you about it, but I don't like keeping things from you, Jenny!"
Wowwwwwwwww. I'm gonna need a moment.
So I told him that we could talk about what to do with it, but I would be involved. He told me he wanted the iPod touch or a TracFone. As if. But we'll figure it out. I pointed out to him that while he didn't want me to know about it, he behaved like such a poopy pants that he ended up in trouble and suffering interrogation.
"Trrruuuuee," he said.
In other Ant news, last week he took some sort of math test.
"On what?" I asked.
"EVERYTHING."
"What does that mean?"
"Everything we've ever done! Ever! Our whole lives!"
Wow, I would fail that test. But he didn't. He and another girl got the highest grades in the class. And guess why? (Can you see me dancing over here?) We have been doing math together. When they go over a lesson in school he watches and thinks he understands how it works but can't repeat it later. We go over it again and iron out confusion and silly mistakes. So far our work at home has aligned with what they're doing in school and he has said many times that it's getting easier. YAY!!!! One of the problems he had was remembering his times tables. I got him some flash cards and he has been voluntarily working with those. We keep them in the car and randomly quiz him. We're teaching him the tricks with nines and just practicing, practicing, practicing. And it's paying off.
I told Dad about that and the $100. ($100! It was from Chris's uncle- the one who started giving Ant $100 Toys R Us gift cards when he found out I was making him save half.) Dad was also taken aback at how over the top that was, but he was really impressed with Ant not wanting to keep things from me and the math test.
"Awww," he said. "Jenny, take him to get an ice cream from me. Spoil his dinner!" So I did. He couldn't eat a lot of it so he put it in the freezer, where Chris found it and that was the end of that.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Poor Planning
It's 10 a.m. and I've had maybe five hours of sleep. The boys are asleep and will probably sleep for several more hours. I need to write so I don't kill either one of them.
You know, the hard part is figuring out how much backstory you need. Probably none, so
Yesterday, Chris took Ant with him to work. He needed to check wiring and fix stuff, move heavy objects, etc. Ant was with him for many hours and it was past dinnertime when he was ready for the show. When I picked Ant up, Chris told me that he'd worked really hard and had been seriously rewarded. Spoiled, even. Oh, wonderful. Rewards in this family tend to be extravagant. Sure enough, Ant told me all about what he got before we turned around to go home.
He said after dinner he got this huge dessert that was also really rich. He said Chris only had one bite so he had to finish the whole thing by himself. "I almost threw up like four times!" he said. Oh, how wonderful! Then he told me Chris had paid him too, almost thirty dollars! This is the point where I was ready to drive into a tree. Unfortunately, we were downtown and there were no trees.
Maybe I'm being a cheapskate. Am I being a cheapskate? Or is $30 a lot? I feel like it's overkill. Whatever, it was done, and I tried to make peace with it. We stopped at the dog park so give the girls some exercise, then we went home. I made Mike's birthday cookies and Ant read the first page out of the U.S. Presidents workbook I bought him at Target.
"I got you something, but you're not going to like it," I said.
He was understandably wary, but upon flipping through it he said, "Oh, this won't be too bad." Aww. See, this is important because I need to see good things right now. He read the first page and told me what he already knew and what he learned. There were two puzzles on the page and we found out that George Washington was a surveyor. I had him look that up and then we looked up pictures of the damage to the Washington Monument. I was worried that I was going overboard as usual, but then he asked me if that wasn't across from the Lincoln thing is. He knew that was where Martin Luther King, Jr. "did that little speech."
"Big speech," I said. "There were tons of people there."
"Yeah," he said. "Like 7,000."
I assured him it was many more than that. "Look it up!" he said. "I'm right if it's anything between 700 to 7,000."
He wanted to look it up! Of course, he only wanted to prove he was right, or close, but he wanted to look it up! We found that it was over 200,000. He thought that was close enough to count and said he was only like 13,000 off. I led him to the whiteboard and we did the math problem.
"Oh."
So after that he went off to bed and I finished up with the cookies, cleaned the kitchen and started picking up around the house. I think it was somewhere around 1 that I heard Ant groaning. He has vocal dreams sometimes so I put the TV on mute to listen. If it was a dream it was pretty awful, so I went to check it out. He was awake and suffering from a terrible stomachache.
I got my symptoms book because even though I was reasonably sure it was the dessert talking back, I didn't want to be wrong and miss something important. I checked his temperature first and in the hallway just outside his room I saw an enormous ant. I trapped it in a cup and went to ask him where it hurt. He showed me his belly and I saw no marks but I went to look up types of ants anyway. Chris came home, we consulted with each other and gave Ant some Pepto.
Chris laid down with Ant for a while and checked his temperature again. This is where I'll admit to horrible stepmother issues. I felt supremely annoyed, not only that this was likely the result of Chris giving him some huge, rich dessert, but I worried that Chris would fall asleep in Ant's room and never come to bed. Yes, Ant was legitimately feeling horrible and he wasn't the one responsible and he's only a kid. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but that's how I felt. If I can host my own pity party, I go to bed by myself many nights and here I'd stayed up, he was home, and I was still going to bed alone. This is ridiculous, I know. But when people tell me that I might as well be his mom, this is where it gets into very gray areas. I responded to him immediately, I did the best I could to accurately diagnose his problem, and tried to make him more comfortable. I remembered a night when I crawled up two flights of stairs in horrible pain. When I got to Mom, she told me it was probably gas and I should go drink some Pepto. I knew that was likely Ant's problem, but I tried to look at symptoms only. It would be awful if he'd been bitten or was suffering from appendicitis and I just gave him Pepto and sent him back to bed. I am missing something instinctive here, and I'm trying to think through the problem. When Chris got home, he laid down with Ant and cuddled him, something that never occurred to me. I'm not sure it would, as his room is smelly. Sounds heartless, right? I went in with the heat sock and watched Chris remove the thermometer from Ant's mouth, read it, wipe it on Ant's pillowcase, and stick it in his own mouth to make sure it was working right. I would not do that.
Now, Chris will share my toothbrush if he can't find his. I would not. I am weird about sharing anyway, and with Chris I have come a long way. He and I share a lot, but it wasn't always that way. I really have to acknowledge this because it makes me feel bad that I can't do this stuff with Ant, but I have never really been able to share with anybody. I want my own pillowcase, not one someone else has slept on. I don't want to share my drink. It is not okay for you to take a bite of my sandwich. It's not that I don't like to share; I just don't want your cooties. With Chris, I have grown to not be bothered by these things. We always share drinks and he'll take bites of my sandwiches and it doesn't bother me, but it used to. When he uses my toothbrush I almost curl my lip but then I don't find myself grossed out so I move on. I don't know how many other people suffer from this problem, but I can't stand using a phone that someone else has been on and the earpiece is all warm. I can't stand using a mouse that's warm from someone else's hand. Maybe I'm related to Howard Hughes, but the point I'm trying to make to myself is that I actually can't stand this stuff with anybody, it just looks especially bad because I can share so much with Chris. Compared to him, I'm a germophobe with anyone else. More importantly, I feel obligated to be that physically close to Ant because I'm in that role. I should be able to get past the smell of his room, I should be able to smell his breath like Chris can. And I can't.
So the Pepto didn't seem to help and Ant threw up. He continued moaning and visiting the bathroom. I don't know how often, but it continued periodically until 5 a.m. Chris did come to bed only to leave again and again, but he did eventually stay. I expressed displeasure a few times last night and he took it pretty well. He told me that Ant hadn't finished his dinner but had ordered dessert and was already eating it before Chris could stop him. I can promise you that we have no strict clean plate policy-- if he says Ant didn't finish his dinner it means he barely touched it.
If I had been there, Ant would not have asked for dessert because he would know I would refer to his dinner. He wouldn't have dared to order it anyway because he would be in trouble and I would just take it away. Chris has a very hard time saying no to anyone, especially his kid. He decided that Ant would pay the price later, and boy did he. Chris often wants to encourage that result, a cause and effect approach, but is Ant really going to get that? I don't know, but it hardly seems like the best strategy. It doesn't help anyone to be up all night. None of us slept, and I'll admit it was not the most kindhearted moment at 3 when I suggested to Chris that Ant needed a tranquilizer dart. That earned me a hard look, but Chris did take the blame and got up to tend to Ant throughout the night until he went to sleep.
All of this is intended to get the anger out so I can get through the day. We're supposed to go spend it at Topaz to celebrate Mike's birthday and I'm so annoyed at the lack of consideration. Or maybe more accurately, the lack of foresight. The lack of assertiveness. There is a reason why Ant behaves so differently with Chris, and a reason why we can't go anywhere together. Today is going to need a lot of patience and tolerance because Elaine can't say no either. Even Mike spoils Ant, or tries to. It's hard to find room to spoil him sometimes. Today I'm going to give Ant a breakfast of toast and water and I'll be standing guard against any sweets or sodas, caffeinated or not. That's if I can even get them up and out the door. It's almost noon now. Elaine called at 10 and thought it might be a stomach bug that's going around. I think not. It's certainly possible, but the combination of a giant dessert and all afternoon in the heat is too likely to ignore. Plus, the upchucking eventually stopped. His body tried to get rid of it immediately, but he fought it down. It just came back later on when he was defenseless.
I am going to have to work hard to be kind today when I really want to throttle them both. Chris, of course, for letting him have that much and Ant for being so damn greedy. And both of them if they argue against going to Topaz. Ant can lay low, but Chris and I can certainly help Mike out with whatever he needs and bring him some goodies and good cheer for his birthday- something he certainly does for all of us. Wish me some strength to deter Elaine's excuses for her son and grandson and some patience and love to deal with the ones I love that I have no patience with.
You know, the hard part is figuring out how much backstory you need. Probably none, so
Yesterday, Chris took Ant with him to work. He needed to check wiring and fix stuff, move heavy objects, etc. Ant was with him for many hours and it was past dinnertime when he was ready for the show. When I picked Ant up, Chris told me that he'd worked really hard and had been seriously rewarded. Spoiled, even. Oh, wonderful. Rewards in this family tend to be extravagant. Sure enough, Ant told me all about what he got before we turned around to go home.
He said after dinner he got this huge dessert that was also really rich. He said Chris only had one bite so he had to finish the whole thing by himself. "I almost threw up like four times!" he said. Oh, how wonderful! Then he told me Chris had paid him too, almost thirty dollars! This is the point where I was ready to drive into a tree. Unfortunately, we were downtown and there were no trees.
Maybe I'm being a cheapskate. Am I being a cheapskate? Or is $30 a lot? I feel like it's overkill. Whatever, it was done, and I tried to make peace with it. We stopped at the dog park so give the girls some exercise, then we went home. I made Mike's birthday cookies and Ant read the first page out of the U.S. Presidents workbook I bought him at Target.
"I got you something, but you're not going to like it," I said.
He was understandably wary, but upon flipping through it he said, "Oh, this won't be too bad." Aww. See, this is important because I need to see good things right now. He read the first page and told me what he already knew and what he learned. There were two puzzles on the page and we found out that George Washington was a surveyor. I had him look that up and then we looked up pictures of the damage to the Washington Monument. I was worried that I was going overboard as usual, but then he asked me if that wasn't across from the Lincoln thing is. He knew that was where Martin Luther King, Jr. "did that little speech."
"Big speech," I said. "There were tons of people there."
"Yeah," he said. "Like 7,000."
I assured him it was many more than that. "Look it up!" he said. "I'm right if it's anything between 700 to 7,000."
He wanted to look it up! Of course, he only wanted to prove he was right, or close, but he wanted to look it up! We found that it was over 200,000. He thought that was close enough to count and said he was only like 13,000 off. I led him to the whiteboard and we did the math problem.
"Oh."
So after that he went off to bed and I finished up with the cookies, cleaned the kitchen and started picking up around the house. I think it was somewhere around 1 that I heard Ant groaning. He has vocal dreams sometimes so I put the TV on mute to listen. If it was a dream it was pretty awful, so I went to check it out. He was awake and suffering from a terrible stomachache.
I got my symptoms book because even though I was reasonably sure it was the dessert talking back, I didn't want to be wrong and miss something important. I checked his temperature first and in the hallway just outside his room I saw an enormous ant. I trapped it in a cup and went to ask him where it hurt. He showed me his belly and I saw no marks but I went to look up types of ants anyway. Chris came home, we consulted with each other and gave Ant some Pepto.
Chris laid down with Ant for a while and checked his temperature again. This is where I'll admit to horrible stepmother issues. I felt supremely annoyed, not only that this was likely the result of Chris giving him some huge, rich dessert, but I worried that Chris would fall asleep in Ant's room and never come to bed. Yes, Ant was legitimately feeling horrible and he wasn't the one responsible and he's only a kid. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but that's how I felt. If I can host my own pity party, I go to bed by myself many nights and here I'd stayed up, he was home, and I was still going to bed alone. This is ridiculous, I know. But when people tell me that I might as well be his mom, this is where it gets into very gray areas. I responded to him immediately, I did the best I could to accurately diagnose his problem, and tried to make him more comfortable. I remembered a night when I crawled up two flights of stairs in horrible pain. When I got to Mom, she told me it was probably gas and I should go drink some Pepto. I knew that was likely Ant's problem, but I tried to look at symptoms only. It would be awful if he'd been bitten or was suffering from appendicitis and I just gave him Pepto and sent him back to bed. I am missing something instinctive here, and I'm trying to think through the problem. When Chris got home, he laid down with Ant and cuddled him, something that never occurred to me. I'm not sure it would, as his room is smelly. Sounds heartless, right? I went in with the heat sock and watched Chris remove the thermometer from Ant's mouth, read it, wipe it on Ant's pillowcase, and stick it in his own mouth to make sure it was working right. I would not do that.
Now, Chris will share my toothbrush if he can't find his. I would not. I am weird about sharing anyway, and with Chris I have come a long way. He and I share a lot, but it wasn't always that way. I really have to acknowledge this because it makes me feel bad that I can't do this stuff with Ant, but I have never really been able to share with anybody. I want my own pillowcase, not one someone else has slept on. I don't want to share my drink. It is not okay for you to take a bite of my sandwich. It's not that I don't like to share; I just don't want your cooties. With Chris, I have grown to not be bothered by these things. We always share drinks and he'll take bites of my sandwiches and it doesn't bother me, but it used to. When he uses my toothbrush I almost curl my lip but then I don't find myself grossed out so I move on. I don't know how many other people suffer from this problem, but I can't stand using a phone that someone else has been on and the earpiece is all warm. I can't stand using a mouse that's warm from someone else's hand. Maybe I'm related to Howard Hughes, but the point I'm trying to make to myself is that I actually can't stand this stuff with anybody, it just looks especially bad because I can share so much with Chris. Compared to him, I'm a germophobe with anyone else. More importantly, I feel obligated to be that physically close to Ant because I'm in that role. I should be able to get past the smell of his room, I should be able to smell his breath like Chris can. And I can't.
So the Pepto didn't seem to help and Ant threw up. He continued moaning and visiting the bathroom. I don't know how often, but it continued periodically until 5 a.m. Chris did come to bed only to leave again and again, but he did eventually stay. I expressed displeasure a few times last night and he took it pretty well. He told me that Ant hadn't finished his dinner but had ordered dessert and was already eating it before Chris could stop him. I can promise you that we have no strict clean plate policy-- if he says Ant didn't finish his dinner it means he barely touched it.
If I had been there, Ant would not have asked for dessert because he would know I would refer to his dinner. He wouldn't have dared to order it anyway because he would be in trouble and I would just take it away. Chris has a very hard time saying no to anyone, especially his kid. He decided that Ant would pay the price later, and boy did he. Chris often wants to encourage that result, a cause and effect approach, but is Ant really going to get that? I don't know, but it hardly seems like the best strategy. It doesn't help anyone to be up all night. None of us slept, and I'll admit it was not the most kindhearted moment at 3 when I suggested to Chris that Ant needed a tranquilizer dart. That earned me a hard look, but Chris did take the blame and got up to tend to Ant throughout the night until he went to sleep.
All of this is intended to get the anger out so I can get through the day. We're supposed to go spend it at Topaz to celebrate Mike's birthday and I'm so annoyed at the lack of consideration. Or maybe more accurately, the lack of foresight. The lack of assertiveness. There is a reason why Ant behaves so differently with Chris, and a reason why we can't go anywhere together. Today is going to need a lot of patience and tolerance because Elaine can't say no either. Even Mike spoils Ant, or tries to. It's hard to find room to spoil him sometimes. Today I'm going to give Ant a breakfast of toast and water and I'll be standing guard against any sweets or sodas, caffeinated or not. That's if I can even get them up and out the door. It's almost noon now. Elaine called at 10 and thought it might be a stomach bug that's going around. I think not. It's certainly possible, but the combination of a giant dessert and all afternoon in the heat is too likely to ignore. Plus, the upchucking eventually stopped. His body tried to get rid of it immediately, but he fought it down. It just came back later on when he was defenseless.
I am going to have to work hard to be kind today when I really want to throttle them both. Chris, of course, for letting him have that much and Ant for being so damn greedy. And both of them if they argue against going to Topaz. Ant can lay low, but Chris and I can certainly help Mike out with whatever he needs and bring him some goodies and good cheer for his birthday- something he certainly does for all of us. Wish me some strength to deter Elaine's excuses for her son and grandson and some patience and love to deal with the ones I love that I have no patience with.
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