Monday, March 9, 2009

So much for Mother of the Year

Sometimes people think you are a saint for simply having cancer. Well, let me put your assumptions to rest....I am not a saint. Three examples follow. A couple rounds ago I was tired, taxed, my skin hurt, my attitude was down and Mason was on the negative bend. You would ask him how was school and he would say, "Bad. Someone hurt me." I would ask more questions naturally being concerned. I worked at Children's and Childhaven for goodness sake. However, I am quickly determined that this was a load of crap. Apparently, his Grandpa hurt him, his classmates hurt him, his friends hurts him, his teachers hurt him, and to top it off, I hurt him too. Okay, so am I to believe that ALL the people in his life hurt him? Nope. He told me Grandma didn't hurt him. She also reads, "The little boy who cried Wolf" to him all the time. See a pattern? He then went on and on about how he needed a bigger room and we needed to move to accommodate all of his friends (you know, the ones that hurt him). He needed his own room. So, after listening to this for a couple days, still feeling bad, and determining that my dear happy son had decided that he was just going to complain about EVERYTHING, I tried to roll with it. I tried to explain to him that we need to look at the positive, focus on what we have, use our words with our friends if someone hurts us, etc. After a couple rounds of that, he clearly wasn't taking the hint and I lost it. The rant went on for at least a few minutes and, if you know me, I can get a lot out in a few minutes. It included things like, "Mason, I have cancer which could kill me and I have a better attitude than you...." and "If you have so much trouble with all your friends we can just never go to school and you can not see them ever again....." and then the kicker (which I am not proud of), "...maybe if you are lucky, I will die before our life insurance runs out and Daddy will get enough money to buy you a new house with your own, HUGE, room!" SILENCE. Pause. I look at Mason and think, "CRAP." He looks at me with those beautiful eyes and, with an inhale, he starts to bawl. He choked out, "I want my Mommy!!!!" I kneel down and hug him. I say I am sorry and then in that moment he is ready to listen......I explain to him that we can't move into a big house for lots of reason, but lets look at it another way....we do have this house which is perfect for us and we have Luke, Sam and Grace next door, we have money to keep it nice and warm, Daddy has a good job with amazing insurance that takes care of lots of Mommy's millions of bills, we have plenty to eat because our friends feed us since Mommy doesn't feel well, lots of great books to read, more toys than they can play with in a day, a swing set, everything. We also have a great school and daycare where our friends are and they really love us. We have Grandma and Grandpa close by and we see Auntie Donna regularly. We have Nick and Joey in our lives, ETC. ETC. ETC. I ended this HUGE list with, "Mason, if we look at what is good in our life, we don't have time to complain or be sad." He sweetly listened to the entire list and said, "Mommy, I want you." I said, "I know buddy. I want that too." Onto example number two......I don't like children sleeping with me. I didn't really enjoy being pregnant either. At least when you are pregnant, they are confined to your stomach. When they are out and sleeping with you, you get their fingers up your nose, feet in your face, elbowed, and head butted. It is like sleeping war. Thank goodness it doesn't happen often and I have instituted the five minutes and then back to bed rule. It is the only way I get any rest!!!! Finally, number three....on Saturday night, I was going for my foot massage at my neighbors. The boys were playing with Daddy and I asked them to leave us for five minutes so that I could talk to Daddy and then they could resume. They, of course, didn't. I was tired from too much going on and I just wanted to get out the door, so I lost it and screamed, "I ASKED NICELY FOR FIVE MINUTES AND NOW I AM NOT ASKING NICELY ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Mason was GONE, in the living room watching hockey. Nolan didn't move. Probably frozen with fear. I told him to go with his brother. He did and then, pause, "WWWWWHHHHHHHAAAAA!" I looked at him and said, "Nolan, come here. What do you need? I need five minutes with your Dad." He came over and plopped down on my lap. I said, "Fine, but no talking." He didn't talk, just sat there. So, while I feel like it may have been able to take a better approach to all of this, I have to say Mason's attitude has TOTALLY CHANGED. He is happy about school, Grandpa, friends.....everything. It is almost crazy amazing. I think there may have been divine intervention because clearly, I didn't have a great plan. I think I need to pick up the book, "The boy that cried wolf." Mom seems to have escaped all this with one book. So, there you have it, I am hardly a saint, just a Mom that losses it just like everybody else. Love, Ang


Jill said...

If it makes you feel any better, I never thought you were a saint. :)

Anonymous said...

I thought I was helping a Saint, and now you tell me you are just another common soul like the rest of us. What a bummer. Take it easy on yourself, having a bad disease does not suddenly endow one with the wisdom and patience of Solomon, on the contrary it taxes every tool we have just to keep the id from overwhelming the super ego. Stay cool. love pat&mag

Anonymous said...

Babe, you are WAY more interesting than a saint.