To the FORMER Pain in my Ass...

As some of you might know, I was born 31 years, 8 months, and 12 days ago, but this post isn’t about me.  That’s not what’s special about today.  Today, my big brother turned 33. 

I don’t even know where to begin when talking about my older brother.  I try to explain him to people, but I never feel as though I get it right.  Truth be told, there’s a lot that I don’t know about him.  We hardly ever see each other, we don’t hang around the same crowd, and we are just about polar opposites.  I say “just about” because there’s one thing that will always be equal between us… love.  I know, it sounds cheesy, but it’s true.  No matter where our lives take us, we always have a strong love for our family and each other.

Growing up with an older brother was difficult… to say the least.  If you ask him though, growing up with me was no picnic either.  I swear that there was a point in our lives when we were mortal enemies.  We fought constantly, and over the most stupid things (who got the remote, who got to play with what toy, even what position a light switch needed to be in).  To tell you the truth, I don’t remember half of them.  I do remember that our fights got physical at times.  Usually it was me that started those.  I would get so frustrated that I would hit him, but he would never hit me back because he was raised to never hit a girl.  Of course that didn’t stop him from shoving me, throwing me in bushes, or dragging me around in the snow.  I would like to say, “If I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, things would be different.”  Truth be told, it probably wouldn’t have change a thing.  I’m just as stubborn now as I was back then.  Even through all the fighting though, we never believed we didn’t love each other.  We knew we loved each other; we just didn’t like each other too much.  Our parents told us that one day we would be best friends, and of course we knew that there was no way in hell that was ever going to happen.

Much to our surprise, there came a time when we started spending more time together and not fighting as much.  I believe it started when all my friends had crushes on him.  They would want to be around him as much as possible, so inadvertently we started hanging out more.  We then became friends, maybe not best friends, but not enemies.  Then all his friends became like big brothers to me.  Whenever they brought people over, I felt so important.  I was the “Lil-Sis,” or the “Lil-Shit,” as they would lovingly say.  It was great.  At least it was until this band of brothers scared away any boy that was interested in me, checked up on me when I went on dates, tormented boyfriends that they didn’t like, or would wait up for me on our driveway in lawn chairs.  Needless to say, my parents didn’t have to worry much when my brother was around.  I can’t explain in words how much I hated it, but that same group of guys was there for me whenever I needed them to be.  My life would have turned out so much differently if it hadn’t been for my brother.  At my wedding, I wanted to dedicate “The Wind Beneath My Wings” to him, but I didn’t know what my new husband would have thought of that.  lol  

Now, for what he doesn’t know…  Even though we hardly see each other, I will always think of him as one of my best friends.  I feel my chest swell with pride whenever I think of him, which is every day, and I have spent my whole life looking up to him.  No, not because he’s so tall.  LOL He could do the smallest thing, and I brag to whoever will listen, and always start with, “My brother is so cool.”  Okay, so maybe I have a little bit of hero worship, but I can’t help it. 

I remember a story he told me, about a girl in high school.  She called him a “grease monkey” in a derogatory way.  To this day, I still see red and want to smack her around.  I remember thinking how proud I was of him for knowing what he knew about cars and doing what he loved.  The same still applies.  He is living his life by doing what makes him happy.  He’s the president of a motorcycle club (yes, had to throw that in… bragging), working, fixing bikes, and having fun.  I’m a stay-at-home mom/writer, sports mom chauffer, and look forward to our animated movie nights.  Like I said before, our lives couldn’t be more different.  Still, I would never change a thing about him, and I want him to know that he is one of the most important people in my life. 
Happy Birthday Brober! 

Birthday Boy!

So, it's my son's birthday today. My mind has been consumed all day with thoughts of him, the eight years he's been with us, and what my day was like all those years ago, today. All of it has been like nothing I could have ever imagined, and even though half the time he makes me want to pull my hair out, I wouldn't change him for the world. Yeah, yeah, feeling sentimental... lol

Time Together

       by Author Unknown

Time together is special

too fast for me it seems.

My son, I want you to tell me

all your thoughts and dreams.

Tell me all that you hope for,

tell me all your plans. 

Let me be the help you need

to grow into a man. 

Tell me all your worries

all your anticipations. 

I am always here for you

for any situation. 

I will always be here,

as I have been from the start. 

And Son I want to tell you, 

I love you with all my heart. 

Pains of Parenthood

Has anyone ever stopped to think about how much pain children inflict on us, as parents?  As a mom, it can start during pregnancy; swollen feet and ankles, heartburn, back aches, etc.  I had bad sciatic nerve pain while pregnant.  I would always joke how my children were already showing signs of being a pain in the ass.  LOL  Then comes childbirth, and I bet every parent has been on the receiving end of an infant head-but when they’re on your lap and throw themselves backwards.  I’m lucky that I still have all my teeth! 

Tell me if this sounds familiar… The kids are finally asleep, and your finally letting your guard down and relaxing.  The lights are being turned off, so you can collapse into your own bed.  You make your way to the bedroom and see the bed in your sights and suddenly pain shoots into your foot which causes you to curse and hop on your good foot.  What happened?  You have stepped on the lost Lego, toy car, or other small toy that was left behind.

 How about this, can any parent lay on the floor without being jumped on?  Just the other day, I was pretending to sleep in my 2 year old daughter’s room when my 4 and a half year old linebacker decided to jump on my back… knees first!  I swear I heard a few bones pop out of place and for the rest of the day I was doing anything I could think of to stop the ache. 

I can also honestly say that I never truly knew what a headache was until I had a teenager.  LOL  You know what though, there are so many things that make up for it all.  You truly do forget about the pain from childbirth when you hold your little one for the first time.  The spontaneous hugs, the sticky fingerprints all over you and your house, painting your nails with your daughter for the first time… It all outweighs all the pain, but there is only one thing that I need and makes my heart melt every time; when you hear that little voice say, “I love you.”  Have a good weekend, everyone!

My Mamma Bear is showing!

Here’s a question I have.  When is it okay to tell a child to fight another child to defend themselves?  Is there an age limit? 

My son is in second grade.  There was a time when I thought that it was too young to tell him to hit another child.  My mind has now been changed.  When he was in Kindergarten, then first, and the first part of second, if something happened, I always told him to tell the nearest adult.  That doesn’t seem to be working.  The school he goes to is a really good school, so I’m baffled as to why everything is going so wrong. 

Here’s my situation.  There is this kid in his grade, a real bully.  Other moms have told me stories about him pushing their son down the bleachers or hitting their son, or even pushing their daughter against the side of the bus.  No one has said anything to the school, because it only happened once.  Then there’s my son.  This kid likes to tease my son, and before Christmas break, he said that he was going to come to my son’s house on Christmas Eve and kill his whole family.  I let it go, thinking that it was just a boy trying to trash talk.  I mean, he’s only in second grade for crying out loud. 

Then things escalated.  After the break, one day my son came home and said that this boy kicked him hard under the lunch table.  Then later on the bus, after this kid hit one of my son’s friends and my son told him to stop, the bully actually said, “Shut up or I’ll stab you or kill you.”  That was it.  I contacted the school.  Did they do anything? No.  They told the boy that he couldn’t say stuff like that, and they called his parents.  Big whoop!

Last but not least, my son came home yesterday and told me about something that happened at recess.  Apparently, all the boys were playing football (not tackle since they can’t in school).  While they were playing, my son had the football, the bully ended up tackling him to get it.  I’m not mad about that.  Boys are boys, and will ruff house.  What I’m mad about is the three extra times that this boy slammed my son’s head into the ground.  I asked my son if he told any adults, and he said, “No,” not wanting to be a snitch. 

Finally, this is what I told him.  “You know what, the next time that he lays a finger on you (pushing, hitting, etc.), hit back!” Then he asked, “What if he hits me back?”  Here’s my response, “Then you keep swinging till they pull you off.”  I’m sick of it!  I have played by the school’s rules and said violence is bad, but that’s not protecting my son.  If they are going to keep a kid like that in school, and know what he’s doing, then I’m going to tell my son to fully defend himself.  He’s scared that he’ll get in trouble at school, and if it comes to that, you bet your ass, that I’ll be marching into that school to protect my son.  I feel Mamma Bear stirring in the den, best not wake her!!

So now my son knows two rules.

1.       Never swing first, only fight to defend yourself.

2.     NEVER, under any circumstances, hit a girl.  It might be old fashioned, but it is something that I strongly believe in.  Even if they’re hitting him, he is to NEVER hit back.

I still look at him and see my little boy, so it’s hard to give him permission to fight back, but what else do you do when the school does nothing?  So back to my question; when is it okay to tell a child to fight another child to defend themselves?