As for other things, I still don't have any word on what the verdict will be with Dasha's bus situation. I do know that she took three pretty major spills today, though. I absolutely understand someone's hesitancy to take responsibility for her when they have 30 or more other kids to watch, too. So, I've just sort of decided to let this whole situation slide to the side of my brain where dust bunnies live and I'll deal with it when I have something more to work with.
Beyond that, the biggest drama was more huffing, puffing, eye rolling, and stomping around here. At one point tonight, I had to go all Cliff Huxtable on the residents! Grant has decided that his only job between 4:00 and 9:00 should be to hold the office chair down with his butt and play Roblox online (like online Legos). When I ask him to do something like put his laundry away, he starts huffing and puffing like a freight train. At one point today, I called him Thomas the Tank. He didn't think it was funny. Lately, he doesn't seem to think too much about me is funny. But, while I was dealing with Dasha's homework and Annie's meltdown over not getting to drink a cup of milk left over from yesterday, I asked him to run upstairs and grab something for me. He huffed like he was working on the third little pig's house made of bricks! At that point, I just told him that he had two choices. (All of the books say let the kids have a choice - so I do). Choice one was to do what he'd been asked to do and be a "happy helper" when asked. In return for being a happy helper, he gets dinner and fresh folded laundry. Choice two was that he could find his own meals and do his own laundry and still have to get up off of his butt and help. I'm really not sure which option he chose. He is currently loading his laundry in the washer but he did clean his room up, too. Hmmm..... I might should sleep with one eye open tonight! I guess this is just "normal" middle school junk but it makes me nuts! There's enough work around here for five adults! I can't do it all myself and the big kids are more than capable of helping out. Why must he be some dramatic about everything?
And, just for kicks and giggles, I'll tell you what Dasha was doing while I was going Huxtable on Grant. Dasha decided to load this dishwasher. I think she was trying to stay under the radar, actually. However, she decided to put all of the scraps from the plates down the disposal. This included napkins, Annie's plastic fork, and a baby wipe that I'd used to clean Annie up. I heard her turn the disposal on from upstairs. Instead of making a sharp hum, it sounded like it was chewing on a blanket. I finally managed to fish everything out of the disposal only to watch Dasha "feed" it more napkins. Yep. I went nuts on HER at that point. When I asked her why she kept putting the napkins down the drain, she said, "I just don't want to walk to the trash can." OK, folks. Everyone is quite aware that I'm not playing with a completely full deck these days. I have way too many Jokers and Jesters in the deck and not enough Aces. But, when Dasha tells me something so ridiculous, I can literally feel my blood begin to boil. I'm not sure how long I stared at her before beginning Lamaze breathing and walking away. I sent her upstairs to get her bath only to find her sitting naked in the bathroom floor eating toilet paper. No, I'm not kidding. I didn't even ask, "Why," this time. I just told her to spit it out. (No, it wasn't the new softer TP that someone left in my mailbox! (Very funny, DB)! Grant already stashed those rolls in my bathroom)! I mean, what am I supposed to say or do? She's eating freaking toilet paper! Why? She's always eaten all sorts of weird things and the doctors have hundreds of reasons for it but it's just so hard to accept that this child who is capable of functioning "normally" some days would sit naked as a jay bird in the bathroom floor and snack of squares of TP. I'd like to be able to tell her that it would hurt her stomach but it never seems to. She must have the guts of a goat!
Anyway, beyond these minor hiccups in the day, things were pretty normal. Tomorrow, I have to take Dasha to have new braces cast. Fun. She has to have new knee immobilizers, foot something or anothers, and then new orthodics for her shoes. Fun.
As for me, I'm very anxious about this weekend. There's a huge part of me that feels like Eric gets to come back and play Disney Dad and be the fun one and take the kids fun places and do all of the things that I'd like to do with them. Yes, I know that it's a matter of priorities and that I could leave the chores behind and go have fun but I'm the one that has to face those chores when the begin to back up. And, the finances I have are already spent on necessities. Pooh. I guess I'm just always curious, too, as to what Eric is thinking. Is he thinking, "Geez, I'm so glad I left that bitch?" Or, does he ever even think about it? It's just one huge mystery. What I thought I knew for almost 20 years has vaporized into a mysterious thing. I don't even know where he lives! Oh well. It ultimately doesn't matter what he thinks. He made his choice over a year ago and although it's taken me almost six months, I've made mine too. He can't have me back even if he wanted me. Despite my decisions, I'm still anxious as to what the fall-out with the kids will be when he leaves. I'm pretty sure that Annie will spend the next couple of weeks asking where he is again. Hopefully, she won't do the tears this time, though. But, I just don't know what to expect of Grant and Dasha. Both of them want to be part of his world but he holds them at arm's length not wanting them to know any of the details of his daily life but just wanting to play dad at a surface level - just talk the talk, never mind the walk. Maybe this all sounds ugly. Maybe he reads this crazy stuff I write. I don't know. Maybe his relatives read it to him or call him to tattle on me and what I "said." I don't really care. This is my blog and these are the thoughts that I need to purge from my brain before heading to bed. Anxious about how well he'll play the role while he's here. Anxious about the aftermath that'll be left for me to clean up when he goes back to playing house. And, wondering if he'll even make it back for Thanksgiving or Christmas and what that will look like as a single mom. That's my reality.
Tonight, I'm heading to bed. I'm not taking any papers upstairs to grade and I'm sure not going to start more laundry or even turn the dishwasher on. I'm done.
Good night, all.
