Friday, September 16, 2011

It's Because I Don't Want To Hear Your Voice

This morning over breakfast Danyo kept making a loud, annoying screeching sound. When I asked him stop, he told me it was because he didn't want to hear my voice.

He didn't want blueberry pancakes because blueberries are ugly and shouldn't be in pancakes.

He cried /whine/accused for about 7 minutes this morning that his birthday was taking too long to get here. It's in June. What is it about the 4th year that make children obsess over their birthday until they are 5?

He swore at the wii remote. Well, the only way he knows how to swear.

He threatened to smash a roll of tape against the wall for getting in his way when he was running. He informed me of his intentions through gritted teeth.

I think to myself on mornings like this, "Surely there is something I could diagnose him with, this boy is crazy!" That's my psychology brain in over-drive. It can't possibly be because I'm feeding him breakfast at 10 am, 2 hours after he woke up. Or that he's in desperate need of one on one attention from me. Nope, that's not it.

I yelled at Bo this morning for dumping out half a cup of bottled water. He claimed he heard me say "dump it". The sad thing is, I'm sure he did hear that. He hears/doesn't hear all kinds of things that justify his behavior. But really? I yelled at an 8 year old over half a cup of bottled water? Who does that!? Even in the moment I saw his little face crumble a little and I wanted to stop, and just didn't. Grrrrrrr. Maybe Danyo's not that crazy after all...

I dreamt last night that I wet the bed. I, mid-thirties Nobody, wet my bed. I realized (in my dream) that I had done it and I was mortified and quickly trying to figure out how to handle it without J knowing. That kind of makes me laugh now. In my dream, when I woke up to deal with the situation, Bo was standing in my room with his arms open wide asking for a hug. It was the middle of the night in my dream. There were mattresses all over my bedroom and I was trying to arrange them so we could still maneuver around the room. When I went downstairs my house was all torn up, like it was under reconstruction. The floors were cement the walls were half up, and suddenly J and I were trying to decide on flooring options.

I don't really know what this dream means or where it came from---but I'm pretty clear that it indicates how crazy my life feels right now. I hate not dreaming about butterflies and doughnuts though.

I have a presentation due next week that I should have been done and well prepared for nearly a week ago. I canNOT stay on task or focus enough to get anything done. I hope this isn't an indication of how this semester is going to go for me. It's kind of ridiculous.

My house is a sty.

I fell asleep in class yesterday. Only, because of my belly, I can't really lay my head down, so it was a head in the hands, slobber, nod, jerk-awake, doze, slobber, jerk-awake kind of sleeping in class. The kind no one notices and is easy to pull off. Mmm hmmmm.

Some days are just like that. Even in Australia.

1 comment:

Jenny P. said...

I love that book. It's always been one of my favorites.

This post makes me want to call you, but then that feels selfish because obviously you don't have time for random phone calls. I might just call you anyway though. If for no other reason than to tell you you're awesome. Then I'll hang up. Maybe you won't even know it's me, I'll be so fast. Except that might be more creepy than supportive.