. With Love, From The Mother 'Hood: Life In The 'Hood

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Life In The 'Hood

Marc looked at our new Last Supper table and said, "We even have room for one more kid." Baby factory is Closed, with a capital "C", remember Honey? I know I gave him one of those "you're not funny" looks, as the kids poured cereal and the craziness that is our mornings ensued. It went something like this: Marley became upset about, (well, as far as I can tell), life (what's new, right? Must suck being two - probably why we are unable to remember that age) so she starts singing Lady Gaga's "My Poker Face" in a very angry tone (I am not making this stuff up, and one of the hazards of having children ages 1 all the way up to 15 is that the little kiddies sometimes listen to the teen's music and whatever mama forgets to censor in the car - Lady Gaga slipped through the cracks along with everything else we listen to, and probably shouldn't within their earshot), then the baby sneezes and Jack says, "Ewwwww! Mom, can you get that?!"
"Get what?" I ask, moving in to see what is the big deal. "Sam blew a snot rocket!" Jack says, with glee of course - what 8 year old boy doesn't love a snot rocket? I look on the tray of Sam's high chair and see only a piece of mushy cereal, the apparent "rocket". I wipe it up, telling Jack "It's just cereal" and he says "No, not there, there on his pajamas!" I look where he is pointing, "Oh, that is a snot rocket" I say, as I giggle and clean said booger off of the baby, before it ends up somewhere it shouldn't - like on my furniture. (Wouldn't be the first time a stray booger found it's way there. I apparently do have a sixth child, goes by the name "Not Me", and he does all sorts of disgusting little boy things like wiping boogers where he shouldn't and missing the toilet when he pees, forgetting to flush all the time and the list goes on and on...... Not Me does a lot of unsavory things around this villa.) Back to our morning - Jack is being his usual "Cruise Director" self, trying to tell Max what cereal he can or cannot have and why. Haylie rushes out the door, grabbing lunch money, pecking my cheek, and wearing no coat because the one she has is definitely no longer "cool". The baby is still in his high chair, minus one snot rocket, fussing for more banana which he has rubbed through his hair, and Marc and I move around each other like two synchronized swimmers, dancing a crazed kitchen ballet as we weave through the river of children, both eyeing the coffee maker to see if that magical brew is done yet. Max, beyond expressing his frustration with the Cruise Director, was blissfully calm this morning - I DO NOT need a repeat of last nights exorcist-esque tantrum from him. Glass half full, Missy - find the good stuff.

I finally get our coffee poured (I make Marc's for him too - he likes the way I make it and I like doing something that makes him happy - just a little thing, but it is special to us). Our coffee maker makes great, although nuclear hot, coffee (not to be confused with hot coffee, please try to keep up), and one of us in our haste to caffeinate almost always forgets how hot it is, ending with me actually spitting my mouthful out on the counter one other recent morning. I meant to do it, really - I was trying to make Marc smile. Riiiiight. He smiled and laughed at me that day, alright. All fun and games until someone burns her mouth on the nuclear coffee. Don't worry, he's had his fair share of mouth scalding brew, and we both laugh at each other when it happens - we have had the stupid thing long enough to know better. Add to the glass half full - no spewed coffee this morning!

Soon it is time for Marc and the boys to head out to the bus, and I am doing my happy dance because the Cruise Director and Linda Blair are under the watch of someone else for the day. Before you go labeling me "Crappy Mom of the Year" for feeling this way and admitting it to the world - my kids are hard (I once joked to my dad that I could be the poster child for birth control - hey, they are my kids, and I've already made it very clear PC is out the window with this crowd), and both older boys need a lot of extra help in the form of specialized instruction, and in Max's case, his therapies as well. There are some things better left to someone else, not because I couldn't do a lot of it, but because of the "Mom factor" - my kids tend to let it all hang out with me, but are able to pull it together for school - it works out for all involved. I get a break and they get the extra help they need, without the meltdowns. I also spent about 3 years having therapists come to my house for Max, and for the moment it is such a relief not to plan my weeks around therapy schedules.

I am left for the day with Mars, our crazed-two-year-old-warrior child (the level her tantrums are reaching has me reaching for those all too familiar phone numbers to start scheduling evals - I guess on an upnote, I don't know them by heart, yet), and Sam, our baby that we are watching very closely because he has some delays (they both just want to join the fun, be part of the group, I jokingly think to myself). Sam's delays are minor compared to what we went through with Max, and he is being monitored monthly since he hasn't qualified for full on services (again there is that nagging yet). I find comfort in the fact that, if either of them is diagnosed with some developmental glitch or another (likelihood is high) I have weathered these storms already, and know exactly what to do. I dread it becoming a reality, but have no doubt I will fight for them as I did the older kids if it does become another chapter in our lives. Marc and I are so far ahead of the game this time around. As I finish this up, the babies are laughing with each other, and I smile thinking of all the crazy and funny things my kids say and do - all the great things that make the really hard stuff bearable. I know Marc and I will continue to find the laughter and get through it all with our newfound strength, one day at a time, coffee mugs in hand as we make our way, learning to love this life in The 'Hood.

4 comments:

  1. Don't we all have a child named, "Not Me" that was great! Also like the water ballet imagery-nice writing. This one is lovely.

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  2. i look forward to reading your blog. thanks for sharing it with us

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  3. Not only do I love reading your blogs. I also enjoy the music that goes along with it.

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  4. I love the song you have on here...it gave me chills while I was reading your blog. And of course I was totally smiling imagining your two year old singing Lady Gaga and all the chaos and wonderful fun you have at your table. LOL

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