eRamblings

Sleep just won’t come to me. Damn it. I hate that sleep. I hate it with a passion. I am about at that point where I am going to my parent’s hosue just to get some sleep. My apartment makes way too many noises I just can’t get used to. Unfortunately my parent’s are weird and wake up at like 5 in the morning, which is usually when I get my best sleep. Though they try to be quiet, their entire house is paved in tile and therefore all sound travels down the hallway and into the spare bedroom. And try as I might, I hear everything they say. Not that they care. Anything my family wouldn’t say to your face, isnt’ worth saying. And oddly, I find this comforting.

This totally describes me. 

There are a few pictures I wish I could get in life. One being when I am laying in bed reading or watching tv and Izabel jumps on the bed and comes over for her neck scratching which turns into her crawling up on me to lay diagonal across my chest. One foot perched on my shoulder, the other my collarbone; her head just above my stomach and her tail wrapped around my head. As she lays there I can feel her heart beating and if I move she makes this noise, “prfft.” I don’t know if she is telling me to hold still or what. And ever so slowly she will try to move closer to me, her side pushing into my jaw. If she could only move me over just a bit. She couldn’t possible get closer without laying on my face directly. And if she could, I sure she would. I find this particular habit of hers endearing. It is incredibly comforting. Especially when I know she has done this ever since she was a kitten. Only she was smaller, much smaller. Her entire body used to fit in curve of my neck. I think she still thinks she is two pounds.

I talked to my husband yesterday and he informed me that he received his son’s report card.

ME: Oh yeah, how did that go?

Him: Not good.

Me: What do you mean?

Him: Not good at all.

silence

Him: He is failing.

Me: Well that sucks.

Him: He got mostly Fs and then one B+ in Science. And he lied about getting a card at school.

Me: Well that is nothing new. We both know he lies about that stuff.

He immediately got upset and I dropped it because he just doesn’t want to hear it. The kid has learned that if he just stays under the radar he will win every time. He can lie, knowing it is wrong, but he will get away with it because it worked last time. He can not do his work and tell his father that he doesn’t have any homework because his dad doesn’t check up on him and make sure it is true. He doesn’t have to do his homework correctly because he knows his father won’t check it, just look that it is done. He is learning how to GET BY in life.

And what kills me is, my husband is completely baffled why his son is failing and he didn’t know it. And he feels like it is all the teacher’s fault.

Uhm, okay. If a kid is failing and his parent doesn’t know it, then who should be aware of this? Whose responsibility is it to manage the kids school work?

A little background - For the first three school years, after getting my husband somewhat on board we had the kid reading, writing and pretty much loving school. This year for some reason my husband decided he wanted to take care of it and I stepped back because we were having so many problems and disagreements on things. And unfortunately right off the bat the kid started failing and not doing his work. After a couple of months of my husband handling it, I kind of stepped in (unannounced and possibly not welcome) and starting kicking some ass. We started monitoring his work, his homework, talking to his teacher, etc. He still wasn’t very motivated, but he did get better grades the last report card, but eventually I got tired of being the only heavy and the only one who felt the rules needed to be followed in order to insure his success at school. Now he is back down much farther than his first report card of the year.

And I ask again, if it isn’t my husband’s responsibility to know what is going on in his son’s life, whose is it?

As a parent, I am probably just one big asshole. I would sit the kid down and have the talk about what will be expected from him from this point on and then I would go see his teacher and tell him that over the next couple of months he better be in his class after school so I can come and he can tell me what the kid did and didn’t do in class. And I would be there at school every day to meet with his teacher simply because it was important to me. Then we would go home and he would do not only his homework, but the work his didn’t do in class. We would do this everyday until he realized that what he didn’t do in school, was gonna get done regardless and he might as well do it in class like the rest of the students. I would monitor his agenda with his teacher and not let anything get by.

Isn’t this the responsibility of the parent?

I agree that the teacher should take some responsibility, but this teacher has to deal with 30 other students and after more than half a year of dealing with the same problem with little to no help from the parent, I would probably write off the kid too. It is just a horrible situation and neither the kid, the teacher or my husband are bad people. But no one is going to care if this kid doesn’t do well in school, pass the grade if his only parent doesn’t care. And it isn’t just caring, it is fucking working your ass off every day until the kid is doing so much better. He has such potential. But then again, so does my husband.

My heart absolutely goes out to this kid because he is only in fourth grade and he already doesn’t want to do his school work.

He needs to not only tell this kid that school is important, but SHOW HIM by making it a priority in his life and his kid’s life every single day. And I just don’t know if my husband is willing to do that.

Kind of like how I felt much of the time. I just wasn’t important enough to be on his top 10 list of things to do and people to be with. And it kills me to say that because I truly love my husband. He isn’t a bad person. And I can’t figure out if he doesn’t want to do the work, put in the time, be the bad guy or what. I really just don’t know.

I am sure I am just a total asshole by even posting about this, but it is frustrating as hell and I have no place to tell him anymore, not that I ever felt like he wanted my opinion anyway. My way is certainly not the best way, the only way or how it should be done, but if my husband never admits there is a problem, never admits that he can fix the problem, does that mean there isn’t a problem at all?

can’t fit a square peg into a round hole, even if I am standing under it to cushion it’s fall

Okay so it is Thursday, almost Friday and I am SOOOOOO looking forward to seeing this movie. Partly because Ryan Phillippe is just hot and because I am looking forward to a good drama movie that will make me cry. I could use a good cry. Yeah babe!! And have I mention (only a few million times) that I have an AMC movie pass?? Double yeah, free movie. Just because of this, I may go take myself out on a date Friday night.

AND

thanks to Pink Piddy Paws, I will be buying this book. I am really looking forward to reading a different book. Not all is lost on my saga of Beverly Lewis’s Abram’s daughters books, it is just on hold for a moment.

AND

I should be getting my NEW CD from CDBaby.com. I will let you know how I like it. Although I already know I will love it. I guess, then it comes down to whether or not my neighbors will like it.

In the last couple of days I have realized that I am eating all the time. I eat when I am hungry. I eat when I am watching tv. I eat when I am so not hungry. I eat when I am tired. I eat when I am happy. I eat when I am sitting, laying, crouching. I eat whenever, wherever.

I do not understand what is going on.

I have never (and I repeat NEVER) been one of those people that eat when they are not hungry. I just don’t. I never felt the need. I didn’t have the munchies - okay so I had the munchies on holidays when everywhere I look there is some platter of food, but on the whole I don’t really do munchies.

Food is on my mind all day. ALL DAY! All day people!!

I will be sitting there working and my mind will say, “Man, when is lunch?” (yes I say man) And my stomach isn’t growling and so I look at the clock and it is only 10:15 a.m. I think to myself, “Bummer.” When 11:00-ish comes around I am running for the fridge. That is close enough to lunch.

And as I am eating lunch, I am also wondering what I will be having for dinner. Maybe I will go to that really great burrito place or I could make french toast like I saw on that movie the other night . . . but I do have leftovers that really need to get eaten.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now mind you, this particular personality trait of eating WHILE asking about my next meal has been with me for ages. I have always wondered what is for dinner. It wasn’t out of hunger, but rather something I could know was a definite thing. Curiosity maybe? I am a curious little sucker. If we were going to a restaurant I would be excited all day. If I knew we were eating leftovers, then I could ask a friend what they were having for dinner. Ever since I was little, my family has had quite the laugh over my constant wonder about my next meal. And I am sure, on occasion, annoyed the hell out of them.

Unfortunately, it now comes with mind power, or lack thereof.

Now, when I think of food, I can’t get it out of my mind. It is a horrible demon that has entered and won’t leave. It keeps chanting - food, snack, yogurt, ice cream, bread, FOOD! And sometimes I look down and see that I am snacking on a bag of chips. WTF!! Where did that bag of chips come from????

Now that I have it, how do I get rid of it? How do I go back to the “I don’t constantly think of food”?

This is quite the burden. I mean if I am not paying attention, I am cramming my mouth with crap. Anything that is within reach. Even when my stomach is saying, “NO MORE FOOD!!”

I have tried to keep a bottle of water near me, so when freaky food thoughts enter my mind I can take a drink. Occasionally I do get tired of water though, so I get up and take a walk. Only I end up at the fridge or cupboard. I will be peerring in and suddenly wake up - “Ack! What the hell am I doing at the fridge?” I go back to my desk only now I am totally thinking of food.

Does anyone else have to deal with this?

I love this story about a swan that fell in love with, but was taken to a nearby zoo . . . and will be reunited with her love again. Go take a look at the story here.

It is at times like these when I wish I had a fireplace. . . . oh, and a dog to sniff it out. I have never seen a racoon in real life.

For the first time ever, I was sitting next to my camera and in full view of Tuesday when she started doing her yoga. Usually by the time I get my camera and come back she is getting ready to run off like a wind-up cat.

She was so dedicated that I got up and walked around her taking pictures and she barely flickered an eye at me.

And then she came out of her zen haze and was like, “I can’t do anything without the paparazzi!”