I suck as a parent

My son, who just turned ten on the 19th of March, has decided to inform me that I suck as a parent. This has come as a horrific blow to me. For the past ten years, I’ve given up a lot of things to be a good parent. I thought this was the one thing I did reasonably well. Now, I realize he just doesn’t see it that way.

It caused me to have a crying jag on Saturday. I felt like my whole world was ending. I know he’s right to an extent. I have made a mess of things sometimes. I make mistakes. I’ve struggled with depression. I’ve fought with my hubby in front of them. I’ve let them eat way too much junk food and tried to be a friend and a parent to them.

Now, in the midst of my heartbreak, I’m wondering if there’s a possible way to be a good parent. I mean everyone rates your job performance. My in-laws look at my less than pristine house and I know what they’re thinking even if they’re too polite to say it…or call DPRS. My mother and father – who I have referred to as Herman and Lily Munster on more than one occasion – (guess who’s the Marilyn?) think I’m doing the best I can…

But is that good enough? Am I screwing up the most important job I’ve ever had in my life? Am I really harming my children as much as my son says I am…or is he just a pre-teen who knows how to kick me when I’m down?

Me likey acupuncture

Today was my first acupuncture appointment of the New Year. Man, I missed it. I’m on an acupuncture mellow right now. Don’t you dare harsh it, okay? I feel calm, cool and collected. Even a little bit sleepy. It’s awesome.

I go this Student Clinic at the Academy of Oriental Medicine in Austin, TX. It’s awesome. And affordably priced. If you live in or near Austin, check it out.

I was sad and a little stressed out about the kiddies returning back to school. Yeah! Can you believe that they didn’t go back ’til this AM? My son didn’t want to go. My daughter couldn’t wait. I thought I’d be sadder than I am, but I’m okay right now. Maybe it’s the acupuncture talking or the fact that I’m not watching Spongebob Squarepants on TV.

I love parenthood. I love my children, but I do need a break sometimes. I need to be Deanna. I almost forgot who she was, but this weekend I got a lovely reminder. We got to go to a family wedding in Arlington/Dallas and it was just me and my husband. Being adults. Being real people. We danced. I had a bunch of pomegranate martinis. Absolutely amazing!

I also got to just be a sexy, vibrant woman. Mommies aren’t supposed to be sexy. It was a nice break. Now back to work.

Happy Freakin’ New Year

The kids got out of school on December 21st. I have them home until January 9th. Don’t get me wrong. I love my children. I miss them when they’re away, but I’m also tired and stressed. I haven’t had time to write like I’m supposed to. My house looks like Toys ‘R Us threw up on it … and I have NOT had a minute alone with my husband in months.

My son informed me the day before New Year’s Eve that my hubby and I can spend all the time we want together when he and his sister are in college. Awww! How charitable of him!

I love my husband to distraction. He is the man for me. I didn’t believe in soul mates until I met him. I always wanted one, but felt I’d never find one. It wasn’t for me. Then, he came along. I know we’ll be together, but I worry.

I don’t want to be that couple that stays together for the kids and has nada in common when their grown. In a way, I already feel empty nest syndrome sometimes. I know it sounds like I’m talking out both sides of my mouth and perhaps I am.

Kids are great, but they’re stressful. They’re hard work, but they don’t need you nearly as much as you sometimes wish they would.

So what does this have to do with the New Year? Well, in December I had minor surgery with major consequences. I can not have any more children. I’m sad and glad and peeved and thrilled about this all at once. I am beginning a new chapter in my life, and I’m not sure how to navigate this new world.

Am I a crone now because the maiden phase is over and mom phase is done? I know I have two fairly young children but I feel as though something has been ripped from me. At 33, I feel old. My New Year’s Resolution is to make myself over from top to bottom, to really become myself for the first time ever.

I’m excited and scared. I’ve been transitioning to a raw diet. I’m sure I’ll talk more about it here as the days, weeks and months go on. I’m trying to lose a lot of body weight. I’m fat, y’all. I hate being fat, but it’s what I’ve been most of my life. I also want to write a novel with real people with real issues that seems surreal like life. The raw plan is restoring my to health and wholeness, but I’m taking it slow. I’ve got years of addiction to overcome.

I’m also swearing off soda. It’s only been two days, but I feel better, clearer and less ‘toxic.’ I had switched to diet soda several years ago but found that it hurt my joints. I have fibromyalgia and celiac sprue (currently undiagnosed). It also triggered the hunger response. Aspartame is just evil for me.

Not sure how or why I got on this soap box. I’m just saying that this New Year is very new to me. I hope you bear with me as I work to navigate it and transform myself and my life in a positive way.

Gotta get some sleep. Must take the kiddoes bowling in the AM.

BTW – Happy Freakin’ New Year!

Christmas, Bah-Bugging-Hum

I title this post after a line from a song in Matt Groening’s epic Xmas special, Olive the Other Reindeer. It’s not because I hate the holiday. I love it very much. I’m all about Christmas. My house looks like a train wreck with decorations on the inside and outside, well, I’m sure the neighbors appreciate the extra light – and electric bills – that are my gift to them. Hey, at least it’s not a fruit cake.

I must admit that I’m tired. The kids enjoy the season with no strings attached. Myself, on the other hand, well, this quote from Lois Griffin during A Very Special Family Guy Freakin’ Christmas says it all:

You all think Christmas just happens? You think all this goodwill just falls from the freakin’ sky? Well, it doesn’t! It falls out of my holly jolly butt! You can cook your own damn turkey and wrap your own damn presents! And while you’re at it, you can all ride a one-horse open sleigh to hell!

It’s true. Christmas doesn’t just happen. It takes months of planning, weeks of preparation and a bunch of time I don’t have. I love the day, but man I’ve been shopping since September, cleaning since early November and wrapping here and there for two weeks straight.

I had to find the right gift for people I care about, but I have to wonder – why does my diabetic mother-in-law need sugary, peanut brittle? Let me tell you about this peanut brittle. It makes me feel dirty just buying it. I have to meet the guy who makes and sells it in a parking lot. Sure, it’s broad daylight, but…

I feel like it’s a drug transaction. I’m waiting for the cops to show up. I can just picture the headlines – FAT WOMAN GETS BRITTLE FIX. NEWS AT 11! Of course, this is my mother-in-law’s favorite peanut brittle. My husband, her son, insists she has it. Why doesn’t he get it? He takes all the credit for it anyway.

Okay, just a little bitter! I know. My daughter wants a Barbie Remote Control Car. She didn’t tell Santa she wanted this. She told Santa she wanted the Dora Magical Castle and Fairy Wishes Dora. She’s four. She doesn’t need a remote control car. She can’t even drive yet, and we live in a condo with no space to drive it in anyway!

My nine year old son wanted a PSP. He begged us for one. I bought it three months ago. On Thanksgiving, he announced that he hated the PSP because all his friends had the Nintendo DS. He wants to text message them. Ugh! I had to resell the PSP through Amazon ‘cuz I couldn’t return it. It was over the 30-day return window of time. Oh f*ck!

I’ve baked more cookies, sent more Christmas cards and shipped huge packages back home to Massachusetts where my siblings and parents still live. I’ve seen over 200 hours of holiday specials, mostly animated. How many times can a person be expected to watch Bah-Humduck! A Looney Tunes Christmas without going “postal”?

I hate that damn DVR system we have. I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! But I don’t dare delete it, ‘cuz I’ll face the wrath of an angry four year old. You wouldn’t like her when she’s angry. She’s worse than The Incredible Hulk!

It’s the 23rd and I’m ho-ho-ho’ed out. The big fat guy gets all the friggin’ credit and everyone wonders why I’m cranky! I love my husband and all – did you think I was referring to Santa? – but I’m exhausted.

Merry Christmas, Bah-Buggin-Hum!