Old Mom Monday 3

This one’s a toughy…  Some people will say “yeah, that’s a great idea, thank you” others will be incensed by the idea of giving their kids money.  Yup.  It’s the allowance talk.

We keep it pretty simple around Chez Fresh Hell.  If one of the kids does a job on the big board to their ability without being asked, they get a ticket.  At the end of the week, they give me the tickets and get a quarter for each ticket.

All three of the kids can read.  All of them have some pretty set wants.  But I’m not a mom that just buys them stuff because.  That would be stupid, and I LIKE to think that I’m not a stupid mom.  The jury’s still out on that one, but there ya go.

For many years that Geek and I tried the “half the kid’s age” formula for allowance.  It ate us alive.  Especially since no one wanted to do anything and get allowance.  So now, if a kid’s got a goal, I remind them of the things they could be doing to EARN that item.  Now, granted, Mouse is nearly 16 and her wants – year books, class rings, prom dresses – are getting expensive.  But she’s super realistic about money and her wants.

Boychik doesn’t care, as long as he gets his markers every month.  The deal is he gets a 10 pack of markers if and only if he lets me cut or file his toenails.  Yup.  Said it.  I don’t care that it’s bribery.  All I know is that the last time I tried to do anything with his feet without a reward, he reacted so badly I thought my neighbors were going to call the police.

Ms. Scarlett is starting to understand money.  She’s not completely sure on what’s what yet.  Everything except a penny is “a Quar-ture, Mom.”  Sure, super cute when she’s missing teeth, not so much when it’s time to help her with her homework.

As always, pick a method and stick with it.  Kids DO NOT like change.  Do not cave, do not bargain.  When my guys get the wants and the gimmees, I ask “do you have money?” and many times that will stop them in their tracks.  Even if they say yes.  Ms Scarlett tried it over a doll when she had maybe 3 bucks.  In her piggy bank.  AT HOME.

When I asked the question, she said “yets, in my bank.”

“Mmmm Hmmmm, and is your bank here?”

“No Mommy.”

“how much is in your bank?”

“Lots and lots!”

“Well, this doll is $9.  We can count your lots and lots of money, and the next time we go out, you’ll need to remember your money.”

This kinda nipped the whole “I want it want it want it” in the bud with her.

Boychik is, as usual, a different story.  We’ll be out and if there’s a toy section, he’ll try to take control.

“C’mon Mom, wets go dis way.”

“Annnnnd where are we going?”

“To look at da toys?”

“Yeah, no.  I don’t buy toys when you and I go out.  If you want toys, you need to save for them.”

Big body deep sigh “Yeah, okay Mom.”

Funny thing is, that’s his routine EVERY.  FREAKING.  TIME.  But it’s okay.  The kender-beasties will learn about money.

I’ve been stalling

I haven’t wanted to make this post.  We are, in effect, homeless.  We’re living in a motel room in the mid-Atlantic area.  I’ve never been this cold before.  Pupkins has destroyed Styrofoam, hygiene, my black combat boots AND my boot insoles.  Yeah.  She’s eaten my boots and insoles.  I WISH I was joking.

Even better?  The kender-beasties have been out of school since before the end of October.  Yeah.  I’m losing my mind.  We’re trying to find somewhere to live.  The house we looked at today had a crawl-space maybe 6 inches shorter than me and when the listing agent opened the door to it, a wave of mildew/mold smell hit me in the face.  That was hours ago and I’m still tasting it.  Add to that super steep stairs and a tilted floor…  The only good thing about it was the back yard.

I’m not trying to complain.  I’m really not.  Autism awareness is being spread ALL OVER the place.  Boychik doesn’t know how to handle living in a motel and he’s the only one of us without flea bites.  Both girls sat and let Pupkins puke on their bed last night.  And I’m stressed beyond reason.  Because I am now off my happy pills.  Cold turkey.

That Geek just got confirmation that yes, we DO still have insurance.  But it doesn’t do me a lot of good right this moment.

Missle’s been in the same situation for over a year and a half.  She’s living with her MIL in a single-wide trailer with her 5 kids AND Chuckles.  Chuckles is her husband.  He’s charming.  And loud.  And that Geek’s very bestest friend in the whole world.  They are feeding us and letting us use their internet.  I’m amazed that people that, before this, had only been around me for 2 weeks have been so kind to me and mine.

We’ve been in dire need of kindness.  I’m not sure what we’re in more need of – stability or housing…  Nope, we’d be better off with some stability.

I’m almost to the point that the chemicals are out of my system enough that I’m going to be able to cry.  It scares me.  I’m scared.  I’m scaring my friends and my kids because I’m freaking out.  I need a break.  Strike that.  My family needs a break.  We seriously need something to go right.  Please?

Old Mom Monday 1

So, I’ve been playing with the idea of having “old mom advice” since I give it out so much…  I hear people say all the time “he won’t sleep through the night,” “I don’t do ‘x’ anymore,” “I can’t potty train,” or my favorite “how do you do it?!”

My oldest is 15.  She has ADHD and autism.  We’ve been through the wringer.  Boychik’s got a laundry list of issues.  Ms Scarlett is the most neurotypical of the bunch, and she’s got ADHD.

And without further ado, lets light this candle…

The biggest issue I hear from mommas of little little guys is about sleep.  I kinda cheated with my guys.  While I was pregnant, I was awake at night and slept as late as I could during the day.  So I haven’t really had issues with sleep.  K has, but her youngest is so very clingy…

Anyway, I’ve always found that kids are very routine dependent.  Miss one part of that bedtime routine and your normally easy going kiddo turns into Linda Blair on meth.  Do not change that established routine.  EVER.  We start calming down about 45 minutes before bed.  Our routine is medication, night time pants for Ms Scarlett, lots of kisses and hugs for Boychik, drinks, and tuck ins.  K’s got a different routine that she uses, and as her boys get used to it, bedtime is getting easier for her.  The G-ds know she needs a break.

Even as your Littles transition from baby-hood to school age, that routine is key.  Bedtime is bedtime.  No, you may not read.  Give me your tech.  Did you take a shower?  Brush your hair?  Your teeth?

Yeah, it’s simple written down.  Any good routine/plan is simple.  When it gets complex you’re risking shooting yourself in the foot.  No one wants to be up with a constipated baby till 3 am.  No routine is fool-proof.  A puking child doesn’t give a damn about “Good Night Moon” and a lavender scented bath.  The happy toddler is going to be over-joyed to stay awake all night and watch movies with her uncle.  A nervous teen isn’t going to just go to bed and fall asleep.

At the end of it all, you know your kid.  You know their preferred routine.  Stick to it.  Routine is almost always gonna be your friend.

No, that’s a grown-up STOP LAUGHING

That Geek uses swears.  We both do.  He’s been calling Pupkins “little shit” for a while now.  Do you see where I’m going?

Yeah.

He called Pupkins a little shit last night and Ms Scarlett popped off with “Pupkins ith NOT a widdle sit, Daddy!”  Yup.  She said shit.  In context, but all the same I don’t need a six year old to have the vocabulary of a well educated member of the US Navy.  Nope.  No thanks.  So while I’m admonishing our little potty mouth, that Geek IS LAUGHING.  From behind his tablet, but he’s laughing.  While I’m telling Ms Scarlett that “shit” is a grown up word.  And the face she made when she realized that she’d copied Daddy?  Oh my giddy aunt.  PRICELESS.  Similar to my “oh my g-d, I said that with my outside voice” face.

We STILL have a leaking water heater.  There’s 1 piece of furniture left in the playroom and it’s across the room from the leak.  The water’s almost reached it.  We have lifting tiles and water that squishes up when you step on the floor no matter how much you weigh.  The leak is now outside the house and making a marsh under the kenders’ trampoline that Pupkins believes is her reward for being a good dog.  So far this week she’s caused that Geek and his boss to have to change clothes because of muddy paws.  The solution we’ve been given for the water heater is to “keep calling maintenance.”  I don’t like them.  I feel them judging me everytime they come into the house.  Pupkins loses her shit when they come in the house.  So does Stupid.  I just want them to do their fucking job.  The right way.  I could do a lot of the stuff they half-ass the right way.  Nope, instead I get to wait for Bubba to park in front of my house, throw out his orange cones, judge the cleanliness of my house, and wait a week or more for him to repair whatever.

We have a light that shorts CONSTANTLY.  We finally just stopped calling them for that.  The pipes under the kitchen sink keep leaking.  Stopped calling on that, too.  And now we’re dealing with a water heater from the fucking Cold War that no one wants to fix!  In the middle of moving!  Yup, still moving.  Still hoping for help from anyone that can spare it.  Yesterday was ANOTHER meeting, more mis-information, and that Geek getting on a work computer to schedule our move.  So he’ll get the e-mail with the schedule, forget to tell me…  Until the movers are pounding on the door to do their survey.  Yeah.  That.  Ugggggh.

I need to finish.  Ms Scarlett is being the queen of stall about getting dressed this morning.  I don’t need this crap before I’ve had my re-spark.

But I don’t wanna

Ah yes, it is another edition of “but I don’t wanna.”

Tomorrow is payday.  Which is great, because I’ve got MAYBE an 1/8 of a tank of gas.  Helping people is grand, but it takes it outta you.  Especially when they can’t give you the gas cash for the trip to Wacko and back till payday.  No big.  Ms Scarlett demanded lunch money this morning.  Boychik didn’t.  So I will most likely be getting a yellow note from Lunch Lady Edna.  Joy.  Love those little yellow notes.  Their basic translation is “pay up or your kid is getting a cheese sandwich!”

Mouse has yet ANOTHER ear infection.  We have ANOTHER meeting with the moving people at that Geek’s company.  I love those.  No really.  The person running the meeting usually gives me just enough information before saying “I have no idea” to be able to google it or ask other people that are or were with either that Geek’s company or with a similar company.  FaceBook is awesome.

I still have a leaking water heater.  Because the furniture is our of the kenders’ playroom, I now have water all the way to the back door.  That Geek has been trying to stop the advance of said water, but there’s only so much towels and hopeful thoughts can do.

Tomorrow is ANOTHER meeting with moving, and I have to update my moving budget.  Love that.  No, really.  I get to put numbers into my computer and figure out how to pay for stuff.  Joy.  Really.

And I still need to go to Joann’s – in Wacko, of course – to get the fabric for Mouse’s party dress.  She has ANOTHER dress up thing in October.  The theme is silver and black.  Yeah, it’s a sweet 16.  More power to parents that can do/pay for that sort of thing.  I doubt Mouse will want to do something on that scale.  Ms Scarlett might, but not Mouse.  Good thing all the accessories for her Homecoming dress were silver.  I’ll just have to make her dress.  Easy peasy.

We are still running the fundraiser to try and cover moving costs.  We are $3 from $550, and every little bit helps.

I can still taste it.

So, last night Mouse went to her first semi-formal dance.  She looked amazing, her shoes cost more than her dress, and I can still taste the hairspray I put on her hair.  And of course it was Aqua Net.

Basically, I am now the proud owner of almost an entire can of aqua net.  Something I have not bought or used in at least 15 years.  I’ve no idea if it goes bad.  Or flat, or whatever.  Ugggggh it’s the taste I can’t get over!  I used so much on her hair, because she usually looks like she shoved a fork in an electrical outlet.  She wore makeup.

Have you ever tried to give a cat a pill?  Cause putting mascara on Mouse was about as messy and difficult.  She wore perfume.  We found out that when she shaves her underarms she dry shaves because she doesn’t want the blade to rust.  OUCH.  My daughter was, to quote Pini, “Totes McGorg.”  I told that Geek the comment and his response was “what does that mean?  Is it English?”

Speaking of Pini, he seems super excited to have his family within driving distance again.  I’m still inventorying stuff, and found out that my sewing equipment might be exempt from our weight allowance.  That would be really good, seeing as the overage last time we moved was fabric and books. That Geek has also made an executive – aka it’s final – decision.  We are getting a trailer for the move.  The pro on this is the van having some space.  So if I had to I could lie down in the back seat, put in ear plugs, and take a nap.  The cons?  Gas mileage.  The gofundme is working really well; I’d love to see more donations, but it’s really close to payday, so I probably won’t see any change in our totals until after payday.  We’ve got 4 weeks to go.

Yup.  4 weeks to finish Missile’s friend’s cloak (if I can hand stitch that long).  He’s been waiting for it way too long.  But with all the health issues I’ve been having, it’s been difficult to do anything.  I still need to make the kids’ costumes and decide if I’m making my winter coat.  I like the SoHo style coats, but I worry that I’m too short to be able to wear them without looking like a kid playing dress up.  I found a set of thermals for each kid and paid less than $15 for them.  I don’t think I’m going to buy any more thermals till we get there.  I still need to decide if I’m making the woolen socks or buying them.  I have sock yarn, but I don’t know if it’s wool.

GAAAAAH  I’m giving myself more tasks!  WHAT is WRONG with me?!?!?!?

4 weeks? Holy Crap, FOUR. FREAKING. WEEKS!!!

Update on that Geek’s bosses. They will only be checking on the house once a week. Because we only have 4 weeks to go. You read that right. FOUR WEEKS. Four weeks to get the funds we need to move. Four weeks to clean, pack, clean some more, and paint. Four weeks to find a place to live.

Ohhhhh. Shit. Look at me, I’m shaking! I’m dealing with Boychik demanding to go to our new house – yeah, the one we don’t have yet – multiple times a day. He also lists all the stuff that we can’t leave without. Sometimes his fuzzy is at the top of the list, other times it’s H-Kitty.

Mouse is going to her first semi-formal dance. I’m anxious for her. She’s really naive and kind. What if someone takes advantage of that? What if she can’t walk in the gown we get her? Will she want pumps? Can she walk in pumps? Why did I wait this long to go dress shopping? Oh yeah, cause the child support, as usual, was late.

Ms Scarlett’s teacher gave me a lovely hand written invitation today; for a conference. Who does that?! I mean, sure, it’s really cool to have a written invitation anymore, but she didn’t even hint what the conference could be about.

I’d really like a massage. Or a vacation. Or some wine. Yeah, I’d like wine and a bath. But I’m pretty sure all we’ve got is box wine and a kid-i-fied bath tub. Sigh. Looks like budgeting, leftover pizza, and an early bedtime.

Things are Starting to Crank

Farmer’s Market day.  Pretty cool, and once again I’m FLOORED by people’s generosity.

Whoops.  I see you’re confused.  Welp, here’s the sitch.  That Geek gets moving papers in about a month.  Two weeks later, we won’t have our lovely lovely government owned house.  So I started a gofundme to cover the cost of hotels, food, and gas to get to where we need to be till we get paid back by that Geek’s employer.

So far, donation requests have been met with lots of positivity.

I hate that I have to ask for help.  I hate that emergencies devoured our moving funds so damn fast.  I’m not perfect, and I’m the only caregiver and driver that the family’s got.  Hellions, there’s a huge difference between telling a stressed friend “I understand what’s going on.  I can’t imagine how ‘x’ (being the change you’re carrying around that you hate using, sharing the link, or winter clothing) will help, but here, take this” and “you’ve known this is coming for ‘y’ amount of time.  Why didn’t you save SOMETHING?”  Especially when the friend asking DOESN’T live check to check.  Or have an ongoing situation that makes saving seem like a luxury.

Telling me that I should’ve saved just makes my stress levels go up.  I TRIED to save.  Then Boychik needed pants and can only wear trousers that have an elastic waist.  At his size, I can only get them from Land’s End.  Yes, I love them, and they’re super tough, but buying uniform pants for him is EXPENSIVE.  The dryer went out and we ended up having to use the laundromat.  The van.  OMFG.  The van.  An accident AND old exploding tires?  Yes please universe!  I’d LOVE that!  Could you add some puking kids and that Geek smelling phantom smells?  I so need a cancer/epilepsy scare right now.  Wow, that’s great, thanks.

I’m so stressed.  I’m tired and shaky and really need some sleep.  Or a day off.  G-ds, I’d LOVE a day off.  A massage, and movies and wine?  Damn, I’d settle for a massage.

At least the pain injections seem to be working.  This is the least amount of pain I’ve been in since the LAST injection I got.

But Monday is only 24 hours. No, I mean it!

Sooooo  yeah…

Good Tuesday Hellions.  At least that’s what the calendar says.

That Geek is just that closer to getting our marching orders.  Over the weekend I found out that the water heater, which has a manufactured date of 19 fucking 51 has been LEAKING into the kenders’ playroom.  So I now have a destroyed desk, toys to trash, and a sewing cabinet that I’m praying can be salvaged.

I’m not happy.  Actually, no, I’m freaking out.  Damage and furniture and a messy house…  This entire past weekend felt like a Monday.  Damn, I wanna go back to bed.

Frantic? You mean fan-freaking-tastic!

Things are starting to crank up here at Chez Fresh Hell.  That Geek is still telling me “this week or next week” for the family’s marching orders.  Meanwhile I’m making lists of who has what kind of cold weather gear.  Boychik wins – he’s just missing boots, thermals, and what Pini calls “woolies.”  I’m not sure how I feel about putting wool on my feet, but at this point, I don’t care.  Pini’s there and knows what he’s talking about.  I do not.  Mouse has a couple coats.  No one has thermals…  I’m wondering if I should just say screw it and do a crowd-source campaign?  Yeah, I’m serious.  It’s hard moving to a completely different climate in a “hurry up and wait” situation.  I’m most likely going to send out “hey can you help?” e-mails once the paperwork comes in.

Ms Scarlett was a turd at school today.  Her poor teacher said that she LITERALLY didn’t sit down all day and distracted everyone around her.  Time to start caffeinating the 6 year old.  No, I’m not kidding.  At this age, caffeine acts as a downer for kids.  It means I MIGHT be able to avoid drugging Ms Scarlett.  I don’t want to drug her.  She’s interesting, funny, and creative.  I don’t want her to only remember her childhood when she’s under the influence like her dad does.  Yep, that Geek was on ritalin.  Now he doesn’t remember his childhood unless he’s on really good meds or drunk.  Except for the horrible parts.  To my mind, that blows goats.

So, after work and on Sunday, I get to play dress up with the kids.  I have to find out if their coats fit.  I have to find everyone’s hats, scarves, and mittens.  Yes, we use mittens in Texas.  I’ll have you know that it snowed a couple times last year.  No really.  I have pictures!  Stop laughing!  How do you think I got side swiped?  It wasn’t the good idea fairy.  It was an icy bridge and an idiot in a Kia.

So, I need to take my own medication and start to wind down.  This morning I didn’t sleep through the alarm.  I woke up 15 minutes before the alarm to the smell of skunk.  When the alarm went off, I rolled over and went back to sleep…  So.  Yeah.  I need more sleep.  Probably.  I guess.