January 13, 2002
Well, we couldn't find boots for Mike to rent because he has legs that are like tree trunks. Being that I am Queen Chicken Legs, I found a pair I could rent that were really comfy and thus, I got the privilege of taking Sir Whiny Butt skiing.
I should mention that I haven't felt quite so frustrated and angry as I feel right now with my son.
We had to do the "homework" for the counselor this weekend, (he had to draw a picture of the molestation and tell the story of it) which I am sure would explain why he's so horrible, but despite that explanation, I still am >< this close to smacking him. He asked me something twice last night. I answered twice and when he said,"What?" for the second time, I just got up from the table and left the room with my plate. This after we'd told him, when he asks a question, he needs to actually listen to the answer. ARRRRRGGGGH!
He doesn't know that I left to stop myself from backslapping his rude behind to the nearest ocean.
Then he came back and gave me a half apology something like,"I apologize for being rude even though I wasn't." At which point, I told him he'd better leave my sight because he was a hair away from getting spanked.
Today, I told him at 10AM to get his ski stuff on. I told him what clothing to put on, so he knew what was expected. I helped Mike with Genny who was barfing after eating too much breakfast, we think. I finally got into the shower after laying out two sets of Genny clothes, starting two baby baths, and watching my husband get puked on...twice.
I hurry to get dried, dressed and ready. At 1130AM, I go down stairs and Russell still hasn't put on his ski pants, jacket, socks, boots or much else. He hasn't a clue where his ski gloves are and thinks everyone should drop everything, including his sick sister and immediately help him scour the house for where he left them last. Surprisingly enough his dad and I didn't think much of that idea and we let him know that if he didn't stop his whining and put his crap together, we'd stay home.
He tried blaming his sister for taking his gloves out of the barrel, which she sometimes does. She didn't do it today though because she'd been too busy barfing down daddy's front. I told Russell this and told him to dig around. I made sure I had enough money and pulled Mike's ski crap out of the station wagon, while I waited. And waited. Two hours to get ready....and he didn't shower. He just had to slap some clothes on.
The whole time, I am having to listen to the whining of Russell, which included blaming everyone but himself for not finding the necessary equipment. I finally told Mike he better help him because I was going to beat his butt. Mike had told him to look under something, but he'd refused, claiming that Genny probably barfed there. Mike found the missing glove and we gave Russell the look of hot burning death. Mike rode his butt for not looking where he was told to. Russell whined claiming he was too involved with helping with the Genny barf debacle, which of course, he'd had nothing to do with.
You have to understand. Russell, despite his slightness of form and age, knows everything. Really.
His parents, one of which is 30 years his senior, are bumbling stupid morons.
Really.
On the way to the ski resort, I tell him that next ski lesson, he will get his things together the night before so he will live long enough to get to his lesson. He starts to argue. I offer him the choice of doing it the night before or having a repeat of the previous 45 minutes. He agrees that perhaps the night before is a good idea. (Gosh, ya think so?)
Finally, we get to the ski place and I get him to the rental place. He drags his butt up there, despite the fact that we're running pretty late. He argues with the boot girl and the ski guy in the rental shop. He argues claiming that no he didn't wear that size boot or ski last week with me, despite the fact that I was there, also, and despite the fact that gee, they fit perfectly.
Just a lucky guess on my part, he must have figured.
I suggest rather than carry his crap, that he ski down the hill. He says,"Good idea, Mom." Yup, I pulled that one out of my butt, I'm tellin' you.
He gets on the skis and starts to whine about he'll go too fast, at which time, I'm trying to refrain from running at full tilt to the car to get my skis on and escape to another lift on the other side from the bunny hill in a galaxy far far away. I finally get him down to where he's to meet his ski instructor and I head to the car, which is within throwing distance from where he is. He says he'll make a run down the bunny hill and I tell him I'll meet him there. I get on my skis and boots and climb up the requisite snowbank to find him trudging and being dramatic about how hard it is. I ski down the bunny slope wait for him and realize, he ain't coming. I catch the lift to the top, and rather than ski down the hill, he's reversed course and is returning to where he's to meet his instructor, which of course, is more difficult. Nothing like making it hard on himself.
Yeesh.
I know he's about 10 minutes from having his instructor take him away, so I leave him with the other kids in his group and go make a run. Okay, more like I ran screaming from his side to the nearest chair lift, but gack.
I get off the lift and I go about 100 yards, hit a sheet of ice and fall on my ass for the first time in 20 years. You have to understand that I never fall when I ski. I'm careful and I'm a good skier. I have never owned a pair of ski pants because I don't fall down and get wet. I was so stunned. My 20 year record shot straight to crap.
It was weird. I sort of sat there for a bit. Then I tried to get up which was so totally not working. Nothing like a big fat ass to make getting up hard. I even had some ski patrol guy take mercy on me and try to talk me up and I finally just said, "Never mind. I'm fat and it's hard to get up like this. I'll take off my ski." So he zipped off and I got up and was a lot more careful. I caught a bad edge and biffed again, but I had already figured out the boot-out-of-ski thing, so getting up wasn't so hard.
It was totally spring skiing conditions...I'd be skiing fast across a sheet of glass and then kind of brake into snow the consistency of wet kitty litter. It made for a hard workout. I went down one intermediate slope and regretted it pretty quickly. My skis are too long for my lack of being in shape, so I was trying to cut turns on a sheet of ice while going way too fast. Thankfully, no one else was on the slope I selected, so I wasn't ever in the position of running down some poor ski bunny (can you say roadkill?). I also took a number of mini breaks to rest my burning thighs.
After about a half dozen runs, I checked on Russell. He was apparently tossing a fit because he'd been pulled out of one ski class into the rank beginner class and he wanted to be one of the big boys. I overheard his instructor telling him that he could choose to be happy or not. At which point, I toyed with staying to see if the instructor needed help with him or not. I watched him get off the lift and saw his instructor head down the hill with him and decided to keep my big fat busybody nose out of it and got on the nearest lift out of there and skied away. Far, far away.
His counseling appointment is on Tuesday and it can't come soon enough. He's worked my last nerve and I'm at the point to where I'm thinking I need drugs just to have something to keep me feeling a little less overwhelmed with little Miss Defiant and Sir Whiny Butt. All I want to do lately is scream at my children.
Fortunately, we've got boy scouts tomorrow night, so I don't have to deal with him much. I could even send Mike to do it, so I can just get a break from the relentless arguing over everything I say or suggest. I'm finding a crockpot recipe for dinner, too.
Currently, he's grounded through Tuesday from TV and computer -- things that overstimulate him and tend to result in him being a total jerk to be around. At this point, he'll be lucky to LIVE through Tuesday to his counseling appointment.
Genny stopped barfing. Apparently, breakfast didn't settle well with her for some reason. She ate okay at lunch and dinner and no barfing, but apparently breakfast upset her tummy is all.
As for my physical well being...my knees ache, but I don't hurt like I did last week. Specifically,I don't have feet that are threatening blisters or ringed bruises from where the boots cut into my legs. I skied a little bit better today than last time. My son is still alive. I haven't yelled at any kids since before I left at noon.
I'll take what progress I can. It was a beautiful day to ski. Just didn't turn out to be one of my better parenting days overall.
As long as my kids don't turn out to be felons, I'm good. Russell is passing all his classes and that's a good start. Genny doesn't like, but listens to me when I get up, take her hand and say,"You need to pick up your toy and put it away." and we walk together and I make her pick up said toy and take it to the toy bin.
Only two more days until counseling! Yippee!
| |||||
