I slept all through the night last night, the first time in a very long time. Maybe its the extra help I have from the doctor....it could also be the non shift work right now too....OR it could be that my son and my daughter seem to be doing well. Yep, it's probably the latter.
We all woke up very good today, Jake was singing and Bug, well, shes always singing. She is such a bright little star and everytime I look like I have a crusty face, she hugs me or says Momma, you're so pretty, Momma you're the best Police Officer ever, You're so awesome cuz you make the best PBJ sandwiches. How can you be crusty and angry after that? I think everytime she's kind to me, I truly believe she's trying to teach me to be kinder to myself. God knows I haven't been for so many years, and I acted like I was, but, the truth is, I've just been lying to myself.
And then Jake started in on his silliness, and not listening. Making faces in the mirror all the time, and I'm looking at the clock rushing him to get ready, since it is Winter time and it takes an extra 507 minutes to get ready. Why am I in such a rush? I really shouldn't be, but damn it to my mother for making me on time when I was younger, as well as my dad rushing me to be ready for Grand Entry at all of the pow-wows I used to dance at. And that is a whole other story......one that I will definately share someday.
And there it was. My fury. It came out like a crazy woman. I screeched at Jake, and my head exploded. The wierd thing was, was that as soon as I saw the tears, I felt like crying right away. Now, before, I would've walked away for five minutes, while he cried at the front door, and I cried in my bedroom. But I paced around the kitchen, and then within a minute, I was at the front door crying with him. Sobbing, and holding him and telling him that I was sorry for raising my voice, and rushing him. Why do we rush? WHY? GOD. It's so annoying. I hugged my poor little guy, and apologized for being so awful, and he said "It's ok Momma, I wasn't listening." My heart just broke into a million pieces. Now I know some of you will read this and say we all do that Nikki, we all yell at our kids at times. I seemed to be doing it more before then now, which I can tell you is a huge relief off of my chest. My son's stability is paramount, as well as my daughter's but, one thing that I had forgotten was MYSELF. I had forgotten me. And all of that yelling and screaming used to be ME. So, I can say that forgetting to yell is a damn good thing, but forgetting who I am is one step closer to more awful feelings. I can tell you, I don't wanna go back to that place ever again.
Jake was still crying a little and I helped him get ready. He was quiet, but once we started walking he grabbed a snowball, and shaped it like a heart and gave it to me. Who says chilvary is dead? I gave them both big hugs, and sent them off to school. I, in turn, went back home, and read books, drank hot tea, and enjoyed my alone time.
By the end of the day, I ran down the street to get them, and the teacher, who I call "Rockstar" cuz he has hair like a rockstar, came out of the school with Jake, and said, well......we had a good day except on Block 3. I thought back, Block 3, has to be right after recess. Boy, was I right. Bang on. And I knew something else was coming.
What was it? Who did he threaten to shoot today? Who did he threaten to kill today? Who was it that he pushed today? And how many times did he scratch his arms in anger, or try to choke himself with his sweater???? This is what ends up filling my brain when someones say what Rockstar said.
"Jake used a hand gesture today at a teacher."
Silence, except all the kids running around us.
I asked, was it a eff you? or something else? As I'm looking at my son. Jake starts blurting out "I forgot what it meant!" I looked at him, and said (like MY mother would say to me about 20 years ago or so), "Don't you know I'll find out everything all the time??" Glaring at Jacob.
Rockstar proceeds to tell me, that Jacob gave him the middle finger several times because he was mad. ARGH. ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME? I am trying to raise a good man, a good man who will not give the finger to someone because he's mad, or flip someone off when he's driving, and not to drive like a GOD DAMN fool, or to tell a woman or a girl to eff off, or to slap a woman, or a hit anyone let alone me or his sister, or not to be a general A-hole like some of the men I've encountered in my lifetime or been married any. My head was about to implode. I glared at Jake, and said ok thanks, we are walking home now.
And I waited. (don't you hate when your mom or dad waits. Like you know you're going to get it. But, they make you wait, or they are silent, or are super quiet, and you can cut that dang tension with a knife, and you tip toe around them like a mine field is present, and you are trying to get your calvary out alive, and you walk around like at any moment, a bomb WILL go off, and you can't hear it or see it. You curse it existence, but you know that its coming, and it terrifys the crap out of you)
And we walked home, and I stopped dead in the driveway. I turned and looked at Jake, and said "what would prompt you to give your teacher the middle finger???!!!" It took some time, but the story I got was that he was mad because his teacher told him he wouldn't let him back into the classroom, and Jake got angry and gave him the middle finger not once, not twice, but three times. I was like CMON! Why? Hes such a nice teacher and he has rules you have to abide by. Jake, of course cried, and I could tell that he was using it as a rouse. I said enough, you're done, tell me the truth or you can't play outside. Jake spoke so fast that I missed an entire part of the story becuase his tongue was flying and flapping like a flag on a pole in Nova Scotia(yep that one is for you Momma).
The moral of the story is, I, Nikki Miller, have never ever ever ever given any of my teachers the middle finger. Nor have I given it to my mother, or father. Becuase I respect them. NOT ONCE, would I ever think that that was ok.
I hugged my son, and told him that I understood that he got mad, and that I know that he has a hard time with his emotions, but that he cannot under any circumstances, give his teacher the middle finger. NOT EVER AGAIN. (insert stern motherly look here)
And then it was over, but we planned on speaking to the teacher tomorrow and apologizing for being extremely rude and disrespectful.
I wish sometimes that my son had it a bit easier, because I know that most people would understand where hes coming from if they knew how absolutely loving and kind he is.
Momma Bear
We all woke up very good today, Jake was singing and Bug, well, shes always singing. She is such a bright little star and everytime I look like I have a crusty face, she hugs me or says Momma, you're so pretty, Momma you're the best Police Officer ever, You're so awesome cuz you make the best PBJ sandwiches. How can you be crusty and angry after that? I think everytime she's kind to me, I truly believe she's trying to teach me to be kinder to myself. God knows I haven't been for so many years, and I acted like I was, but, the truth is, I've just been lying to myself.
And then Jake started in on his silliness, and not listening. Making faces in the mirror all the time, and I'm looking at the clock rushing him to get ready, since it is Winter time and it takes an extra 507 minutes to get ready. Why am I in such a rush? I really shouldn't be, but damn it to my mother for making me on time when I was younger, as well as my dad rushing me to be ready for Grand Entry at all of the pow-wows I used to dance at. And that is a whole other story......one that I will definately share someday.
And there it was. My fury. It came out like a crazy woman. I screeched at Jake, and my head exploded. The wierd thing was, was that as soon as I saw the tears, I felt like crying right away. Now, before, I would've walked away for five minutes, while he cried at the front door, and I cried in my bedroom. But I paced around the kitchen, and then within a minute, I was at the front door crying with him. Sobbing, and holding him and telling him that I was sorry for raising my voice, and rushing him. Why do we rush? WHY? GOD. It's so annoying. I hugged my poor little guy, and apologized for being so awful, and he said "It's ok Momma, I wasn't listening." My heart just broke into a million pieces. Now I know some of you will read this and say we all do that Nikki, we all yell at our kids at times. I seemed to be doing it more before then now, which I can tell you is a huge relief off of my chest. My son's stability is paramount, as well as my daughter's but, one thing that I had forgotten was MYSELF. I had forgotten me. And all of that yelling and screaming used to be ME. So, I can say that forgetting to yell is a damn good thing, but forgetting who I am is one step closer to more awful feelings. I can tell you, I don't wanna go back to that place ever again.
Jake was still crying a little and I helped him get ready. He was quiet, but once we started walking he grabbed a snowball, and shaped it like a heart and gave it to me. Who says chilvary is dead? I gave them both big hugs, and sent them off to school. I, in turn, went back home, and read books, drank hot tea, and enjoyed my alone time.
By the end of the day, I ran down the street to get them, and the teacher, who I call "Rockstar" cuz he has hair like a rockstar, came out of the school with Jake, and said, well......we had a good day except on Block 3. I thought back, Block 3, has to be right after recess. Boy, was I right. Bang on. And I knew something else was coming.
What was it? Who did he threaten to shoot today? Who did he threaten to kill today? Who was it that he pushed today? And how many times did he scratch his arms in anger, or try to choke himself with his sweater???? This is what ends up filling my brain when someones say what Rockstar said.
"Jake used a hand gesture today at a teacher."
Silence, except all the kids running around us.
I asked, was it a eff you? or something else? As I'm looking at my son. Jake starts blurting out "I forgot what it meant!" I looked at him, and said (like MY mother would say to me about 20 years ago or so), "Don't you know I'll find out everything all the time??" Glaring at Jacob.
Rockstar proceeds to tell me, that Jacob gave him the middle finger several times because he was mad. ARGH. ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME? I am trying to raise a good man, a good man who will not give the finger to someone because he's mad, or flip someone off when he's driving, and not to drive like a GOD DAMN fool, or to tell a woman or a girl to eff off, or to slap a woman, or a hit anyone let alone me or his sister, or not to be a general A-hole like some of the men I've encountered in my lifetime or been married any. My head was about to implode. I glared at Jake, and said ok thanks, we are walking home now.
And I waited. (don't you hate when your mom or dad waits. Like you know you're going to get it. But, they make you wait, or they are silent, or are super quiet, and you can cut that dang tension with a knife, and you tip toe around them like a mine field is present, and you are trying to get your calvary out alive, and you walk around like at any moment, a bomb WILL go off, and you can't hear it or see it. You curse it existence, but you know that its coming, and it terrifys the crap out of you)
And we walked home, and I stopped dead in the driveway. I turned and looked at Jake, and said "what would prompt you to give your teacher the middle finger???!!!" It took some time, but the story I got was that he was mad because his teacher told him he wouldn't let him back into the classroom, and Jake got angry and gave him the middle finger not once, not twice, but three times. I was like CMON! Why? Hes such a nice teacher and he has rules you have to abide by. Jake, of course cried, and I could tell that he was using it as a rouse. I said enough, you're done, tell me the truth or you can't play outside. Jake spoke so fast that I missed an entire part of the story becuase his tongue was flying and flapping like a flag on a pole in Nova Scotia(yep that one is for you Momma).
The moral of the story is, I, Nikki Miller, have never ever ever ever given any of my teachers the middle finger. Nor have I given it to my mother, or father. Becuase I respect them. NOT ONCE, would I ever think that that was ok.
I hugged my son, and told him that I understood that he got mad, and that I know that he has a hard time with his emotions, but that he cannot under any circumstances, give his teacher the middle finger. NOT EVER AGAIN. (insert stern motherly look here)
And then it was over, but we planned on speaking to the teacher tomorrow and apologizing for being extremely rude and disrespectful.
I wish sometimes that my son had it a bit easier, because I know that most people would understand where hes coming from if they knew how absolutely loving and kind he is.
Momma Bear
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