Everybody needs good neighbours…

Why are your children at my house? They’ve been here for hours. They’re now demanding food…

Have we even met?? I had to ask their names… where they live… their parents names…

Perhaps you’ve sent out a search party and we just don’t realise… but they assure me you know they are here… 

They’re 6 and 4… again, I ask you… have we met? Do you know me? Are you simply that trusting? 

I’m seriously disliking the social side of this place… it’s great that my kids have friends at all hours… At. All. Hours. But maybe… they could all go to your place once in a while? I don’t like feeding my own kids… I have negative interest in feeding yours… and I don’t care about their life story… or their pets… or what they’re doing tomorrow. 

I want my house back. My silence. I want to be the scary neighbour that the kids hate. But they don’t take me seriously… they hang around here even when my kids go somewhere else… 

I have to send them back to you at night time… they stay for breakfast, lunch and dinner… must be awesome for your grocery bill! And you must really appreciate having no kids around all day… and yeah… I have four… so what’s a dozen more… 

But again… my memory is poor… have we met?!? 

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Oh, by the way…

Chatting… random stuff… medical problems. 

Me: um… would you like me to make you an appointment? I can find a male doctor for you…

Knight: no, not for that…

Me: are you sure? You don’t need to tell me. You’re 15 now. But I can find someone and make an appointment. 

Knight: no… I don’t want an appointment for that…

My brain reeling through possible ways to convince him… and suddenly… I actually heard what he’d said. 

Me: So what do you want me to make an appointment for?

Knight: because I want to kill myself…

Me: for real? 

Knight: yeah… no? Maybe… I just don’t want to sleep. Ever. Again. 

Me: okay… but you don’t want to kill yourself?

Knight: well I do… but I really just don’t want to sleep…

And the Wizard comes in. Refuses to leave. Wants attention. The Knight refuses to talk again because he no longer is in the mood…

But I’m in the mood! I need to talk about this! 

Morning feels…

Four is too many…

The Princess is away. I hear from her at odd moments through the day and night. 

The baby Dragon is across the drive at a sleepover. They knocked on the door at 7. Who comes home from a sleepover at 7?!?

The Wizard is being his usual morning nerdy self. He’s 8. He’s cuddly. He reacts strongly to moods and stress. He started the morning with a meltdown over his big brother annoying him. He has close to zero understanding of other people’s moods… he just reacts to them. I tell him – look at my face, listen to my voice. I am frustrated. I am tired. I am angry… he laughs and continues. I hold back the tears. 

So… that’s 3. Goes without saying that I love all 4 of them. But my days are filled and I can barely breathe at times. 

Then there’s my Knight. He doesn’t sleep at night. He wakes me to tell me he can’t sleep… or because he’s on his Xbox and he’s loud… or because he’s talking to a friend at 3am and the conversation is hilarious… or because I take the Xbox controller and he can’t sleep… or because the Internet is slow and he demands to know why… all night… every night… 

His favourite saying is kms… kill myself.. I told him this morning that if he doesn’t let me sleep soon, I’m going to kill my own self. 

I feel like a new mother all over again. There’s no break. At all. I want to cry in frustration all the time. I’m exhausted. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. I can’t keep up with their wants and needs and demands. The level of utter self absorption does my head in. 

The Wizard has climbed into my lap. He has no sense of personal space and boundaries. He needs and he needs now. I’m still on my first coffee and he’s asked at least 675435 questions so far. There’s no conversation. He doesn’t tell me things. He asks. Demands. Sits on me and realigns himself for his own comfort. I can’t deny him the hugs he needs. But OMFG I want the space some moments. 

The Knight has disappeared to his room. He’s tired. Am I supposed to care? I’m sure I woke neighbours at 4am when I got up for the 27th time to tell him to shut the f up… 

I remember when I thought I’d be a good parent. I hear others horrified that someone says a ‘bad’ word in front of their kids… oh honey, I say them AT mine…

Friends see the surface. You’re a single mum of four kids. You’re a great mum. 

No… come see me at 4am or 6 am or 8am… my deadly times… see me at arsenic hour or after I’ve tucked them in for the 571st time tonight and it’s nearly midnight. See me when they just won’t freaking sleep or let me sleep. When they bicker with each other or cause havoc in their own frustration. When I count yet another bruise on my thighs (9 atm) or shins (6) because they’ve left yet more crap in a walkway and I’ve tripped yet again. 

Or better yet… come take over for an hour or two… take my phone and take my kids… leave my house and leave me in peace… just an hour or two of utter silence. 

But mu-u-um…

Me: what’s the go with the screensaver?

Knight: What? It’s Alice in Wonderland licking a rabbit lollypop…

Me: Uh huh…

Knight: What do you think it means?

Me: I know what it means… I want to know what you think.

Knight: It means I want to try LSD.

Me: No.

Knight: Oh, come on!

Me: No.

Knight: Mum! Yes! And MDMA.

Me: No.

When did this become a normal conversation???

Okay… so I was being a complete bitch… but OMFG! I’ve sent him the address a dozen times. He NEVER sends the kids back with all their things. This parcel had the Wizard’s shoes and favourite shirt. It’s been circling for weeks trying to find the right address – because he also didn’t bother to write his own address in the return to sender section – ‘Oh well, he should remember his own things!’  

I’m usually far more passive these days. I try not to bite. I certainly don’t attack. It’s just not worth the fall out the kids then suffer. But my god… it’s so damned hard… and today… well… it’s been a crappy few weeks. 

He’s been quiet this week, but the two weeks before he was in fine form! Constant attacks on the older two. The Princess just looks at her phone these days and mutters – what have I done this time?!? The Knight still struggles… the attacks range from full frontal assault to subtle manipulation… two days ago, he saw his bed for sale on a buy swap sell page… those little things… the attacks on his sense of belonging…

A friend has promised to drink champagne and dance on his grave when the time finally comes! ☺️but in the mean time… it’s sucking it all down deep and doing my best to ignore the attacks and minimise the damage. Taking the higher road… 

Take 5…

So… I’ve hit that point when the task is too onerous so it’s easier to just do nothing…

Except write a post about my chicks… who well and truly dominate my life and thoughts of late… No rest for the wicked? No life of my own? Something…

A rant to clear the mess in my head so I can focus on work once more…

Baby Wizard asked for a bin for his room this afternoon.. and then, for the first time in his 8 and a half years on this planet, he cleaned his room, filling his bin… and then went round the house until it was completely full and he could empty it into the big bin. If I’d realised this is all it would take, I’d have given him half a dozen bins years ago…

Baby Dragon is not happy. She is 10 and has hit the wonderfully moody, hormonal stage of life. That last spike before puberty comes along. Soooo much fun… Her drama, other than extreme moods, is that wonderfully bitchy world that 10 year olds seem to inhabit… She’s not happy that I had a few truths to impart about sitting around with a friend, bitching about another friend who isn’t present… I’m such a loving and understanding mum, that I also asked if she was crying because she was sad she was mean to her friend, or if it was because she was in trouble…. Definitely a winning mum moment there :/

Teen Princess is off to Byron for schoolies tomorrow and I can’t even let my brain go there and stress… They’re driving… Five teens in a car – I think three can drive… A loooonnnnggggg trip. :/

Teen Knight… oh… where to start… I don’t have the skills. Or the crystal ball. I want someone to wave a wand… Sudden flurry of movement in the house this afternoon and lots of whispers and vibes… What’s going on?… It seems that when my darling boys had been out and about yesterday afternoon, some rough play became very rough… Sigh… Parents here are so calm and reasonable. So quiet and sweet. I’m not cut from that cloth. Master Knight takes the stance – that one where the shoulders are back and he’s on his toes, chin high… My eyes narrow as I realise what he is doing… The other parent is calm… understanding that things get a little out of hand sometimes but ‘we don’t like bullies’… Part of my inner mumma bear surfaces at the passive aggressive crap spewing from her mouth – I have zero patience for people who need to do the whole holier than thou act… But I rein this in as it’s not the issue. The issue is that my 15 year old took his 8 year old brother out to the common area and proceeded to take things too far with a group of 11-12 year old boys. The passive aggressive mother left with a sweet smile and the calm assurance that she’s lived here for 11 years and there’s never been a bully before and they won’t allow one now… My rational brain struggles at this moment – trying not to look at her as if she has grown a second head… WTF? A. What does it matter how long you’ve lived here? B. You’re not Queen. C. If you’re freaking annoyed, say so. D. Don’t walk into my back yard uninvited and start talking to my sons without speaking to me. E… Shall I continue? But again, this is not the issue… this is just that part of me that struggles with passive aggressive, manipulative, control freaks… and that is not relevant at this moment. What is relevant is the 15 year old who is still holding his stance and saying – yep. yep. yep at this woman… and I watch as yet another adult think he has heard them, think he has understood their reasoning… Or is it simply that they see the obvious and run? She leaves… I turn on him. His stance changes. I am furious. I rant. He doesn’t listen. He’s intent on saying his own piece and I am not yet ready to hear it. I rant some more. And some more. He says something in his own defense. I rant more. There is no defense. They are kids. You are picking a fight. And finally… I pull out that line I reserve for very special occasions… I just can’t believe you’d do this, I’m so incredibly disappointed… and there it is. Said…. And he rejoins with – you’re not as disappointed in me as I am…

I can’t do this parenting gig. I can’t get it right. I have no idea what to say.

We calm. We talk. He tells me he just wants to fight someone. He wants to hit someone and make them hurt. That anger has never actually abated… still simmering… still trapped as he tries to control it…

And in the midst of everything… the phones and devices ping and ring as his father tries to call… And there it is. Or so much of it. His father is angry because he won’t answer the phone. It’s the most bizarre thing. His father told him he went to the Knight’s best friend’s house Friday for a handyman job. The Knight said – they would have told me if you did. And from that… all hell has broken loose.

I’ve forgotten how fragile this child is. How much this child is trying to hold the world together… His father sends me ridiculous texts throughout the week and I ignore them. He rings and I tell him to go away. If he rings persistently, I answer and leave it on speaker, only partially listening to whatever rubbish he needs to spew this time. But mostly, I just ignore him these days. I’ve learned to call his bluff. I’ve learned to ignore him.

But this child hasn’t worked that out yet. He’s still not strong enough.

So when his father texts me: you know he’s drinking all your alcohol – he’s drinking it right now!… I simply look at my son and think – umm, no he’s not… But my child isn’t able to do this… and his father knows it… so he texts him constantly telling him that he’s an alcoholic and he’s having withdrawal… And I have to wonder – woah, the child has only been here just over a week, how can he be an addict unless you were aware he was drinking all your alcohol at your place??? He texts him more abuse – constant and frequent… swearing, name calling, threats… The child has a new phone number so the father can’t ring him – he’s not aware he has one – but he calls the other kids, calls me, texts through social media… threats and abuse… constant…

So I don’t know how to parent… but in the scheme of things, I’m doing better than the sperm donor…

Apparently, their father tells them frequently that I am angry and bitter and jealous that he is doing so well because he is about to buy a third house… He can’t understand that I am more saddened that he will buy more and more and more… but he won’t spend that on his children. I’ve just signed paperwork I organised to allow him to only pay a pittance for the next three years – my final move in the bid to get my child back without the backlash the child isn’t strong enough to withstand… So he gave me the child with one hand as he took the paperwork in the other… and now he’s realised he’s lost any control…

The Knight tells me he is making a bid for the Dragon, but I won’t allow any of them to go again. I will fight tooth and nail this time. I won’t let another suffer. I am stronger now.

But the Knight tells me: mum, he thinks you are bitter and jealous that he is more successful and has more stuff…. but I haven’t told him mum… I haven’t said to him – dad, look around you… where are the kids?

 

Gen…

Do I say it… do I be the parent who finally admits this current generation… sucks? 


Meh… unfortunately a GoT meme… but sooo appropriate. 

The teen Princess hates working. She’s s checkout chick. For Woolworths. She worked 4 whole hours today. Four! Standing at a register. But… you get a 15 minute break when you work four hours these days! When did that happen?!? And… she gets paid for every single minute that she works! Like… she starts at 7 and works til 11… and she’s actually paid for 4 hours! But.. she doesn’t want to work. 

The teen Knight was offered 2 hours helping a tennis coach today. Paid. To pick up tennis balls. Lock the gates. For 2 hours. He said no. He doesn’t want to work. 

The baby Dragon is only 10. She objects to taking the rubbish out. Rolling eyes. Hmphs under the breath. Tears in the eyes. I don’t think she wants to work either. 

Baby Wizard simply refuses. He’s got it sorted. 8 years old must be a new generation. Or perhaps he’s simply ahead of his time. Because he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t whinge. He just doesn’t do it. 

Apparently I’m an idiot because I CHOOSE to work. So I can’t whinge. But they shouldn’t have to. Because… well… they don’t WANT to.