Can I have some?

welcome to my blog.

a place to post. a place to eat oreos. a place to vent. a place to heal.

i started this blog so i could use a different outlet besides munching on fattening oreos. as if that has done any good... *mind wanders to oreo package in the house...*

then i realized that oreos can be semi symbolic. if you are are that crazy about oreos that is. which... i am.

eating oreos is therapeutic for me. when i am struggling or when i need a pick me up. they have chocolate. and sugar. both of which help lift my mood. not to mention that i eat them soaked with milk, which is my miracle drink.

i post my posts to not only get stuff out. there may be people who read my blog who have been in the same kind of situations as i have. i hope reading them and knowing that others have gone through things like i have, will be to you what eating oreos does to me.


and yes. i didn't capitalize anything in here. i just felt like it. deal with it.


munch up.

Monday, December 28, 2015

Parenting conundrums

It is interesting to me to see how different my kids are. But at this point in their life, I'm also learning that it's hard to find middle ground with them and their different personalities.

Bug is a very helpful kid. He loves helping, he loves serving, and he just generally loves making people happy. Great qualities that I love in him.

Goof Ball is very independent. Where I practically had to force Bug to learn how to use a spoon, Goof Ball took the spoon out of my hand so he could do it himself (and at an earlier age than I made Bug learn). Another great quality that is good for him to have.

But you can see already where the conflict comes in. Bug wants to help - Goof Ball doesn't want the help. Goof Ball yells that he doesn't want help, Bug cries because he can't help him. And of course, because of Bug's personality, he doesn't let anything drop easily - particularly if it's something that hurt his feelings. Like not being able to help someone. So he'll dwell and brood and cry about it much longer than I have patience for.

I've tried explaining to him that it's great that he loves to help, but if someone doesn't want help, you really can't give it to them. But he just doesn't seem to get that concept. I could try and convince Goof Ball to let Bug help him sometimes, but Goof Ball is just so stubborn that he would probably cry if I tried to do such a thing, and then we have two crying kids in the house for something really ridiculous. You'd think I'd have to deal with tears dealing with not being able to share something or whatever (which I still do, don't get me wrong), but no, I get tears because one kid isn't allowed to help another one.

Another conundrum is grounded in one major problem: Goof Ball hates to lose. Like I mean really despises it. If he feels like he is going to lose, he'll "change the rules" to make it so he will win. Or he'll quit. Or he'll cheat. Or what have you. This is another issue in our home that causes a lot of frustrations on both sides. I've tried explaining to Goof Ball that if he cheats, he lost. That if he always insists on winning, and changes the rules to make his win complete that no one will want to play with him. But no amount of discussion has changed anything. His stubbornness is firm in that regard. He will win. Or he'll quit. End of story. I think this is a good sign that I probably shouldn't ever put him in competitive sports...

Friday, December 11, 2015

Choices -> Consequences

In Bug's literature course, the unit we just finished focused on choices and consequences. Which was probably good, because he seemed rather confused when I asked him what the consequence was when one of the characters made a good choice. He seemed to think that consequences only came with bad choices.

Well, that doesn't really have much to do with the topic of this blog post, but it kind of does at the same time. Because today, Bug made a very very adult choice, and he astonished me to the point of nearly being speechless.

The virtual academy that we enrolled in does daily (often with more than one each day) what they call "class connects." Basically it's kind of like a group Skype call that has tools and other things where the teacher can show a power-point kind of presentation and have basically an online class. Well today when Bug was logged into one of these class connects, I came downstairs and found him playing a game on the internet instead of paying attention. Naturally, I scolded him, and told him that we would probably have to block the website he was playing on. He knew when we installed a blocker program that that was the deal-if he doesn't do his work and plays instead, we'll block the games.

Anyway, he finished out the class connect, as far as I knew, and about fifteen minutes later he came upstairs and talked to me.

"My teacher and I made a deal," he said. And I'm thinking.... what kind of deal? What are you talking about? "She let me color for seven minutes," Bug continued, "as long as I would listen to the recording and send her an email telling her what the class connect was about."

They always do a recording of the class connects for kids who couldn't make it at the scheduled time. At this point, I'm connecting logic together and asked, "Wait, did you tell her that you weren't listening?"

"Yeah," he said.

I didn't tell him to tell her. I didn't say anything that even suggested that he should tell her. In fact, doing such a thing hadn't even come to my mind at all. He chose to do that all on his own, and left me speechless while he continued to talk about what he drew on the class connect program.

He also said, "It made me feel really good. Because the teacher let me color."

I took that to mean that he felt good because he wasn't punished by telling the teacher what had happened. And so, with his good choice, I gave him a good consequence. We didn't block the website he was playing on.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

The Magic of Childhood

Bug is getting to the age where he seems to know (at least sometimes) when I'm making a little fib for Goof Ball. Like one night, Goof Ball was worried about the lights off, and going to bed. I was exhausted, wanting to just plop off to bed myself, but I went in there to kiss and hug him goodnight. And then, without really thinking about what I was saying, said, "And here's a magic kiss to protect you from the monsters." It wasn't anything, really. Just a kiss with more pressure behind it and longer - on his forehead. I told him that when the monsters see that kiss on his head, they'll get scared and run away.

Well even that night, Bug seemed to be in on the joke with me, as it were. I asked Bug if he wanted a magic kiss too, but he kinda smiled and said in a somewhat I-see-what-you-did-there kind of tone of voice, "Nah, I'm good." And as a precautionary measure, I put magic on the door too to protect them with one more layer of made up magic.

There have been other times where Bug has seemed to play along with me when I say things like that, but at the same time, he hasn't let go yet of the magic of Christmas. Or the tooth fairy. Or any other made up magical being that he already believed in. Knowing that he has started to pick up on the little things that I make up to survive another day of parenting, makes me wonder when he'll actually start to question the existence of Santa. I suppose I'll have to start coming up with a believable explanation that hopefully won't hurt his believing, tender little (or perhaps big) heart. Knowing him, so long as I feed it to him well, he'll probably want to play along with it for Goof Ball's sake a few years longer. Maybe even want to help stuff the stockings or something. Who knows?