Game faces

We had a basketball game on Saturday. T has been very hot and cold about attending practices and games. The debates on that subject for R and I are extensive. T really struggles in a team environment IF he's not the one calling the shots and if his performance doesn't live up to his expectations. For his age, that's not necessarily an unusual behavior, but what concerns us is the way he deals with that frustration - which is usually by breaking down in tears and refusing to participate. If that doesn't get him my or R's undivided attention, then he'll start acting out more.

R and I have our hands full trying to manage 8 kids, so when T does this it's a struggle for me to balance coach with Mom. I want him to be able to express himself fully and openly, but at the same time using emotion to manipulate others is not acceptable. And often, it's hard to tell the difference between the two.

Since T's last big outburst, every time he shoots or throws the ball, it's underhanded and with little to no aim. So when he was playing Saturday, if someone passed him the ball, he'd just immediately toss it up in the air. I mean, really...just go ahead and shoot me the finger or something because he was determined to make his point. I was determined to not battle with him over it, especially since he started off not throwing underhanded and was making baskets and passing with great accuracy with no problem.

Unfortunately, his team mates dealt with it by not giving him the ball - and I don't blame them. Why should they if he isn't even trying?!? This, of course, gets him upset and he ends up in tears on the bench. He tells me he isn't going to play anymore, takes off his jersey and throws it down.

Oh boy.

Deep breathing.

I get him to open up enough to tell me that he's upset because they won't give him the ball. I can understand that. So I explain to T that no matter what you are doing, different people have different strengths. It's unusual that one person can excel at everything, but it's completely possible to be really good at many different things. We watch the game for a bit and I'm speaking softly into T's ear about the game and his team mates. One boy is our star ball handler, one hardly ever misses a shot, one is good at rebounds, one is good at finding team mates to pass the ball to, etc. And I explain to T that his excellent skills are his speed, agility and height.

There was more to it than that, but he agreed to go back out there and play with a minimum of convincing. We play a basic man to man defense and the kids wear different colored wrist bands. When T got out there, he ran the poor kid he was matched with ragged. It was amazing to see him play the rest of the game. He played excellent defense, and even though he was still throwing underhanded, he was at least trying to hit the basket or pass directly to his team mates. And the running? Oh my gosh, it was amazing to see. Seriously, the poor kid that had to keep up with T probably went home and slept for two hours.

This was some serious progress. I hope.

Stumbling in the dark

S went to bed all teary eyed and full of indignation. Her heartless mother tucked her in, said prayers with her, sang her the good night songs she requested, kissed her on the forehead....and then left the room. S was not in the mood to go to bed at bedtime tonight, so I thought if I went into our bedroom and read quietly, she'd give in to her exhaustion more easily. Not so much with the giving in. Eventually, she gave up getting out of bed (thank you Supernanny) and sat on her bed and whimpered.

I feel awful, even thought I know I did the right thing.

I checked on her after I finished my book a little while ago. Sound asleep and looking peaceful as all get out.

Only now I'm restless and unsettled.

Since I was awake and thirsty, I decided to go downstairs and get some water. On the way down the steps, I stumbled and almost fell.

We've lived in this house for over a year. In every single other place I've ever lived, I could find my way around in the dark within a month, no matter how many times I rearrange the furniture. 

But not in this house.

A couple nights ago, I turned off all the lights to go upstairs to bed. I stumbled for the umpteenth time. I didn't trip over anything specific like a toy or shoes, just over...something. Every time that happens, I wonder what it is about this house that makes it impossible for me to navigate in the dark. The number of stairs certainly doesn't change, neither does the location of the walls or doors or cabinets.

But I'm still stumbling, fumbling around for something familiar that doesn't seem to exist here - at least not in the space I'm in at this particular moment. I don't even really know what I'm looking for or expecting to find or not to find. I just know that lately, that whole lot of nothing seems to be directly in my way.

I will survive

Remember that song by Gloria Gaynor from the 70's? Looooove that song! I actually heard it on the radio the other night and impressed if not R, then at least the kids with my lyric knowledge. Not with my singing ability, though, but what else is new? But how much singing ability do you really need to belt out a classic anthem? What I lack in talent, I make up for in heart. And possibly in entertainment factors. ::Snort::

And while this has for sure been a rough week, it's been full of potential blog material.

I still can't get S to pee in the cup. I'm ready to go and beg the lab techs to make her do it, but that's not their job, and frankly? After her last impressive vocal chord pyrotechnic show, can't say that I blame them or that I'd be surprised if they all disappear when we show up again. I know if I were the tech, I'd hide.

Got my car back. A la Forrest Gump, and tha-at's all I've got to say about tha-at.

I also managed to leave S's booster seat in the rental car when I picked up my car. Way to GO, self. Of course, I didn't figure it out until I was almost home. At least we confirmed the rental place has it and I can go get it tomorrow which works out well because I need to go back to the repair shop anyway. Hooray.

The good news is that T gets a redo on the student of the month breakfast he missed last month, so I get to go to school with him in the morning and celebrate his achievement. Frankly, he could use the pick me up. He got in trouble last week at school two days in a row for the same behavior, which is extremely unusual. Since this has been a much better week for him, I'm hoping the trend will continue for all of us.

Either way, though? We will survive. Especially if I don't sing about it.

Workout Wednesday - let's talk about Yoga X

So, yeah, TonyX - creator and face of the P90X series - and I settled down to do some yoga last Thursday. And by yoga, I really mean plank, upward dog, plank, downward dog, plank, runners pose, plank, building up to warriors pose 1, 2, 3, and reverse warrior, plank, twisting, more twisting, plank, and then it just gets plain difficult.

And that's just the first part. Part two involves more balance moves, which I found much easier than the eternal plank section, and then the third part concentrated on abs.

Like most people, I'm more flexible on one side that the other. TonyX, the poor dear, mentions a time or seven that he's also more flexible on one side. I really struggled with the 'basics' of this workout on my right side, but I figure that will just improve with time. And I can't wait until I can do the hand clasp move while in a lunge twisted from the side. Let me try to find a picture to illustrate...

He's so twisty!

I have tightness issues with my lower back, and reverse warrior especially seems to bother it - but - honestly? When I did Yoga X for the second time it was actually easier than the first time. I also like the fact that this is a no/low impact workout. Lately I've been awfully hard on my feet and ankles with my workouts so it feels really, really nice to stretch everything out and focus on breathing in the context of deep breathing to relax into the moves and push myself versus deep breathing to avoid passing out or, you know, dying.  I also did the Stretch X video, and it was easier than Yoga X for the most part but still provided many of the same benefits for me personally.

I can guarantee you this, however. If I ever can get my fingers to touch in the above pose? I'm SO having someone take a picture and posting on on this blog - large sized.  

The business version of "he's just not that into you"

I admit this with a touch of embarrassment. I hate making phone calls. I will put it off until the last possible minute 9 times out of 10. Okay, if I'm being totally honest, it's 9.9 times out of 10, even when I really want to talk to the person that I'm calling. I don't know why. I do know that the phone calls are why I wasn't enamored with being a key spouse. Nothing worse than calling someone you don't know and having an awkward, stilted, and uncomfortable conversation with them.

Ironically, the last few jobs I've had involve me being on the phone most all the time, which could also be why I have such a dial phobia these days. BUT - for business purposes, if I ever said I would call you? I called you. Personally speaking, my track record is less than perfect, but I do tell people that don't know me well yet about my phone issues. And I'm great about emailing and facebooking and I'm getting better with texting, even if it still takes me for-evah to text.

And as hypocritical as this is, my biggest pet peeve is someone not communicating with me like they say they will. (Pot and kettle issues anyone?!!?? ) I do, however give big leeway. If you say, 'I'll try to call you next week' then it doesn't bother me in the slightest if you don't call. If it's for something specific like setting up plans or whatever, then I do get irritated if you don't call and I'm stuck in plan limbo waiting on you. Apparently not enough to call you myself most of the time, but it is what it is. I'm working on it.

Now, if I'm paying you money for something? If you say you are going to call me and don't? I'm irritated. If you say you are going to call me more than once and don't more than once? I'm pissy.

Case in point: Friday morning, I called our insurance company about my car. They gave me the name and number of the guaranteed repair shop. I wrote all the information down, left to go to the Y and right after I walked back into the house, the repair shop was calling and wanting me to bring it in for an estimate. Impressive. So I did.

They wanted me to bring the car in on Monday to be fixed. So we did. My contact there told me that he'd call me and let me know the progress and if they found additional damage to the car other than what was visible to the naked eye. I assumed he'd call Monday, but he didn't specify so by Tuesday afternoon, I was getting a little concerned. The repair estimate said 2-3 days and since the shop got my car when they opened on Monday, I should be able to pick it up on Wednesday and that's with the worst case scenario. At least according to the estimate paperwork and my three conversations with the repair shop guy.

No call on Tuesday. In fairness, I didn't call him either. R and I decided not to rent a car for a variety of reasons, and R's been a really good sport about sharing his vehicle with me, even though it's interfering with his schedule a bit. Thursday and Friday are crazy busy for me this week and having to share a car just isn't going to work. So if my car isn't going to be ready, I need to know so I can make arrangements.

I call first thing this morning. He's not in yet. An hour later, he calls me back and leaves me a voice mail, but I'm working out so I don't get the message until almost an hour after he calls. I call him back immediately, but he's not there but he should be back in 15 minutes. I give him 30 and then call back. This time he's there and he's all, yeah, I was gonna call you today....

Uh huh.

So what I find out is that even though there wasn't the damage behind the bumper that he expected, the car is JUST NOW going in to be painted.  I'm suddenly pretty certain that I'm not going to be happy with the repair job on the car but I'm trying to think positively. He says that he'll call me around lunch time and let me know for sure when the car will be ready. No indication of whether that's today, tomorrow, next week, or never. It's about 10:45 at this point. I wait until 2:30 to call him. No answer.

Really? REALLY!?!?!?!

I call back 15 minutes later and talked to the other guy and explain that I was supposed to have been called around lunchtime to let me know about my car. Other guy tells me that the painting is finished, but its drying and I can probably pick it up around 5.

Umm, probably? And don't you guys close at 5?

Also, I have basketball practice at 5, which I tell the other guy and ask him if there's any chance the car could be ready by 4:15-4:30ish. He tells me to call back at 4 and check.

Fair enough, and also? Thank you for not saying you'll call me because we both know it ain't true.

A few minutes later and I'm emailing R for the millionth time today keeping him updated on my last car conversation when the phone rings. Surprise, surprise. It's MY car shop guy. He's all, "Yeah, other guy said you called and want to pick up the car early."

Le sigh. 

Dude. You've had my car for 3 days. If you couldn't fix it in 3 days, then don't tell me that you'll have it done in 2-3 days worst case scenario, then tell me it was far from worst case scenario - but my car is not done yet. It's false hope, which really pisses me off. It's also unprofessional.

I explain why I need to be somewhere at 5 and he's all, well...I'll call you by 4. When would you need to come and get the car to get to basketball practice?

I can make to practice in 15ish minutes from the shop.

'Okay' he says. 'I'll call you by 4 and let you know if you can have it today. If not, you can pick it up first thing tomorrow.'

uh huh.

It's 4:03. Guess who has two thumbs and a phone that has not rung?

Thankful Tuesday

Yesterday was a holiday, and I swear it just makes today feel like Monday. So schedule-ly speaking, I'm all confused.

Plus, my car is in the shop. Yay for prompt service from both the auto body shop and the insurance company (seriously - thank you SO much to both of them), but we chose not to rent a car and are trying hard to work out how all of us can use one vehicle and still accomplish everything we want and need to accomplish.

Really, though - how lucky are we that this is currently our biggest concern? Reliable employment, a roof over our our heads, food in our bellies, clothes on our backs....in the face of all that, what's a little inconvenience? Nothing, that's what.

Also? I haven't almost burned the house down or ruined a meal this week - wooooooo! After last week, I was getting a little concerned.

 But tonight what I'm most thankful for is my husband. We went out to dinner a few weeks ago and I asked him based on some conversations we've had and some comments he's made if he thought I was depressed. His answer shocked me. "I don't think you're happy."

So what kind of a be-yotch have I been that he would say that? And yes, I already know the answer. No need to discuss that any further. I've been giving his response a lot of thought. Am I happy? Am I unhappy? What's the deal?

I don't think I'm unhappy overall. I do think I tend to say more negative things to R because I'm happy enough to be who I am with him and say what I really feel. But I also realize that no one wants to be around someone that's negative all the time (ahem - myself included) so I'm taking more time and care about what I say. I'm no less honest with R, but I am more mindful about how I react to things. Really and truly? Most of the stuff I bitch about doesn't even matter a couple hours later. So why am I getting all bent out of shape?

I think I need a new hobby. Something to keep me busy so I don't make a big deal out of the small, unimportant things. Like I tell S, "no point in wasting your freebie tantrum on something silly" Eating is obviously not a good idea for a habit, so I think I'll try push ups this week. Or maybe the crane yoga move from Yoga X.

So R, in case you read this entry (and you'd better, LOL)- thanks for being there for me, for loving and accepting me, and for being honest with me. I'm a lucky, lucky girl to have you as a husband.

I'd much rather have gone to a sample sale.

Last Friday was busy. I made an appointment for S to see her pediatrician because she is still complaining pretty often about her stomach hurting. And for a variety of reasons, I think she might have a urinary tract infection. I also had to take the car for an estimate after talking to our insurance company and just a bunch of other things I just was not in the mood to deal with.

So yada, yada, yada - we go to the doctor's appointment at 2, which in military time is 1:45. Now, let's establish that the day before did not end well, I was feeling harried and grouchy today, and by the time the pediatrician actually came in to the exam room, I'd explained why I thought S needed to be seen by a doctor to about four different people - who obviously do not communicate amongst themselves whatsoever.

It's also a fair statement to say that S runs a bit towards the dramatic, so she flipped between loving the attention and being really helpful, to wanting the attention and saying whatever just to keep it. Not the best situation to be in when you are trying to convince your kids doctor that you really think there is a problem.

He mashed on her belly a bit and then pronounced her as fine as far as stomach concerns went. Fair enough. Then he said he wanted a urine sample (not completely unexpected) to determine if she has a UTI. And, we needed to sit and wait for the results. Did I mention our appointment was at 2 and that T gets home from school at 3? So, time wise, this was not the ideal scenario.

The one thing that I have pretty much across the board experienced from military doctors when dealing with the kids is this: either they act like I'm a hysterical parent for bringing them in (T's delays, sensory issues, behavioral problems, various head or face smashes come to mind), or they act like I'm a horrible parent for not bringing them in sooner.  This visit I got both of those experiences in a 15 minute time span. When the doctor told me we needed to wait for the results, I explained that I needed to make sure and be home when T got off the bus. He got snappy, I got bitchy. I'll spare you that recap.

Pissy from that little exchange, S and I headed to the lab. We got the cup and the antiseptic wipes and headed into the bathroom. I have to say that the lab staff? SO much nicer than the doctor's staff. S and I go into the bathroom and I explain what needs to happen. Which was basically said this way: 'Honey, I need to get a urine sample from you, so you are going to sit on the potty and I'm going to hold this cup and when you pee, it goes in the cup and the doctors outside will test it and make sure everything is okay.'

What does S say? "Okay, Mommy. But you go potty first."

I can do that. I don't pee in her cup for obvious reasons, but I do all the other steps.

We get her settled on the potty, I'm all impressed with how well this is going, and then I put the cup under her.

Oh.
My.
God.

She starts to wail and scream like someone is slowing pulling the veins out of her body one by one. And the bathroom is a pretty decent size and all tiled, so it just echoes like crazy.

I try to calm her down.

She scoots to the back of the toilet seat and starts kicking at me and trying to smack the cup out of my hand while screeching and yelling and carrying on...dare I say it...like a fool. Come on, kid! You aren't even  the one having to hold the cup and best case scenario about to get peed on. Sheesh.

I'm trying to use my calm, soothing voice, but when her foot connects purposefully with my face, I lose a great deal of motivation for trying to calm her down and start to speak to her more sternly. I tell her she has to do this, I'm sure she's freaked out that I'm holding a cup under her bottom and that I'm sure she's scared because she's never done this before, but it's not the end of the world and once she pees...we are done and outta there.

How does my darling daughter reply to me?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Mommy don't touch me there! Don't touch me like that anymore! NO MOMMY NO NO NO NO NO NONOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT ANYMORE! NOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON'T HURT ME! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME ANYMORE. I'M SORRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Yeah. Good times. My head started pounding and I just wanted to curl up on the corner and cry. Seriously S?!?!?!  At no time had I been even the least bit threatening towards her other than insisting she pee in the cup before we could leave. But hurt her? No way...although the thought did appeal to me for a second or two as I contemplated whether or not rolling toilet paper around her mouth would muffle the screaming.

At that point, I was just done. If S does have a UTI? Well then, she can just live with it for the rest of the day. If she's still complaining in 24 hours about it hurting when she goes to the bathroom (which has been an inconsistent complaint compared to her stomach complaints) then we'll take her to the ER and I'll totally let them put a catheter in if she won't cooperate.

For pete's sake S - help me help you. Yowza.

I tell her to get off the potty, we are leaving. She's still screaming and crying and refusing to cooperate in any fashion. So I lift her off the potty and pull up her pants, wash both our hands, and we try to head out.

I wouldn't exactly say we were swarmed, but several lab staffers were right there looking awfully concerned. I'm assuming they weren't the least bit concerned about me. ahem.  I explain - and somehow manage to do so calmly - that she is unable to provide a sample, I have to get home before my son gets off the bus at 3, and that we'll have to try this again on Tuesday.

They try to get us to stay. They offer a different urine collection device. That's great, really it is, but she's not going to go at this point and we have to leave to be home in time.

More jabber about needing to stay, which I hear as blah blah blah blah blah. 

I take her hand and start to walk out, apologizing to all the other patients in the area about the screaming.

Someone in a white coat tells me that I cannot leave until they get a sample.

HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA. Oh yeah? Watch this pal.

And out we go.