So it starts....

Sigh… This is it my friends. I am going go bang my head against the wall over there until I can’t think anymore. Since this might be the last time I have a coherent thought, I decided to blog about it so you can understand.


I have a 9 year old BOY. This child, has obviously decided that his childhood is over and would like to begin the transition into manhood.

Nine years ago, I had toxemia. My son was born at 31 ½ weeks. He was 3 pounds 3 ounces. I sat next to his NICU crib for 6 weeks, hours upon hours, talking to him, singing to him, praying for him. I knew he was going to be special. A precious gift for me and the world. My heart ached with motherly love. I would’ve done ANYTHING to guarantee his life, his wellbeing. All these years of looking under the bed for monsters; all these years of cleaning up puke and bloody knees (yes, he is closer to Sunshine, until something is wrong), all these years of going broke buying clothes that only fit for two weeks… and how does he repay me? BY BEING A BOY.

Skywalker has now decided that he does not need to use his brain anymore. Ask him to put on his shoes, and be prepared to play twenty questions: What shoes? Do these match? Do you know where they are? Do you want me to put on socks? Should I change my pants also?... At first, I thought it was his way of dealing with Sunshine’s absence, but I just found out (bless my husband for keeping this from me) that this has been going on for at least a month. I am amazed that I hadn’t heard of it before.

Last night I asked him NICELY: “Skywalker, it’s 7:30 pm. Please turn off the TV and go upstairs and read for half an hour.” I should’ve seen it coming… “What book? Do you want me to read the same one I read in the afternoon? Do you want me to pick another one? How long do you want me to read again?” I have to admit, I wasn’t very nice when I told him that I could care less if he read the Owner’s manual for the vacuum cleaner if he couldn’t figure out what to read for half an hour.

Then this morning, when getting ready for school, the child put on a PARKA to go to school… It’s going to be 60 degrees today. I told him that. His response? “Yes, but it’s 37 degrees now.” I breathed HARD. I asked him to please find a sweater… You see where this is going, don’t you? After his 3rd trip up and down the stairs, Mini-me, who was standing next to me while I looked something up in the computer, turned around, looked at his brother straight in the eye and said: “REALLY DUDE? Just put on a long sleeve shirt! I got one on!” I was SHOCKED. I told Mini-me not to talk to his brother like that, that I could handle it without his help. There is a reason why I call him Mini-me… He is the uncensored version of me… His look said: “What? You were thinking it…”

I talked to my best friend, who has an 18 year old. She told me that this is the beginning of the end. “Good luck,” she said, “Your son is now beginning to turn into an idiot man.” I gasped. “When will it end???”, I moaned. Her response? “My husband just nailed his thumb with the nail gun on Sunday. Oh and by the way, just wait until those hormones hit.”

Does anyone know where to get wall padding cheap?