*sniff* i’m a little under the weather today. too much pepper spray can make a brother congested, if you know what i’m sayin’. but the harder they hit us, the louder we become. kinda like the skin on a drum, you know what i’m sayin’?
love me some Michael Franti. also, Ani DiFranco, Ellis Paul, Utah Phillips, Bruce Cockburn, and so very many local artists (and not just Boston local) – anyone who is willing to sing the truth. by which i mean their own truth, because truth is in some ways very subjective, isn’t it?
ah, the slippery slope of truth. what is true for me may not be true for you. some things – don’t kill, don’t steal, be kind, open doors for older people – seem pretty self evident. but when it comes to how you see your own universe? greyer area.
*gaaaaaaaahhhhhh*! okay, i’m trying to be kind, and dance around what i want to say by framing it as ‘we all need to be kind’. but honestly? WonderBoy’s BM is frosting my ass in a big way.
(yes, Little Man is too big for MedSm, so now comes the new sobriquet – WonderBoy. because he is wonderful.)
~sigh~ ~wanders off to refresh wine glass~
disclaimer: i have never claimed to be, nor do i think i am, a perfect parent. i don’t think such an animal exists, and if it does, slap it on the endangered list right now. WonderBoy had a chance to call me out tonight. and that was okay.
soooooo… Wonderboy has been frustrated by a myriad of things lately. we don’t let him run rampant, there isn’t enough time in the day, we don’t buy him every new toy, hubby and i are sometimes (and often, lately) sidetracked by adult obligations, or just our own stress.
all of this comes back to hubby, in the form of several ultimatums, from the BM, in a call wherein she dictates that “they” will all have a sit-down, and she will fix things with him and WonderBoy. “they”, apparently, means Mom and Dad and Son, who (as WB explained) all sit down and have a nice healing chat and then all move back in together.
*sees more shades of red than i thought possible*
and did i mention that WonderBoy was told and believed that he wasn’t allowed/able/capable of talking to his own father? *snarl*
that, my friends, is manipulative bullshit of the highest degree. *goes all MaMa Bear*
WonderBoy is doing pretty well. we’ve had several discussions so far, sometimes me and WB, sometimes hubby and WB, sometimes all of us. it’s rough, dealing with the shrapnel.
hardest for me was this question: ‘why is mom so mean?’ caught my breath when WonderBoy asked that. and i had no answer, other than ‘she loves you, honey. and she’s doing her best to look out for you in her way.’
on a better note, hubby, WonderBoy and i all had a conference with WB’s teacher to talk about his report card. it was a good, solid report card, and it was great to have a conference where we liked the teacher, the teacher liked WB, WB liked the teacher… aw, well, it was just a big love fest. 😉 best of all, WonderBoy had a chance to show off what he liked about his work. so very nice to be able to give WB a space where he could see that ‘conference’ doesn’t mean ‘talking to’, just ‘talking’. and i could see how very many shades of proud he was when his teacher praised him for his skills and participation.
he’s an excellent kid, WonderBoy is. and he had that shy little grin on his face tonight when i told him that, which told me he heard the compliment and appreciated it. still doesn’t know what to *say* about the compliment, but likes it.
~sigh~ *looks skyward* is it always this hard to parent? *rhetorical question, but feel free to comment.*
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