Friday, March 18, 2011

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Parenting handbooks?  Oh yes, I've seen a few of them on bookshelves but in my opinion, like the weathermen in Colorado, they're full of malarchy.

Last night I spoke with someone who was as far off as I've ever heard a parent be.  No one is completely right, but boy if someone is going to be!  God bless her!  She told me that she did everything 100%.  Nothing half assed so to speak.  This woman told me that once her baby was born, all of her went into her child.  There was no time or room in her life for her husband or anything else.  How sad. That kiddo will never know how to be her own person without her mother making her every move and decision. And worse, she'll never learn how to love anyone but herself.  She'll come to resent her mother in the end, the very person who gave up everything, including her own identity, to raise her.  Yikes. 

Now, as most of you know, I am an adoptive mother of two biological brothers both of whom came to me at different times but at six years of age.  A bit confusing, I know.

My husband I and took special parenting classes in the county where they were adopted.  The training helped somewhat but it did not not prepare us at all for what we were getting ourselves into. So like many wise parents before us, even those without special needs children, we have learned to write the handbook as we go along. We should break copyright laws and name our handbook, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

As I type this, I'm listening to Austynn watch SpongeBob SquarePants (my arch nemesis of all cartoon characters), and plan on keeping him home sick a second day from school.  Yesterday, as would most sick days in this house, it would fall under the "Bad" section (I'm sure I'll touch on the "Ugly" eventually in my blog.  It will be good reading, I promise.) in the Potts' Family Handbook.  It's the whole questioning thing that's awful. 

Yesterday Austynn was complaining about a sore throat.  Now, let me preface this by saying he's a tremendous hypochondriac.  I can't sprain my ankle without having his foot x-rayed. 

Embarrassingly enough, Wednesday afternoon I yelled at William (quite substantially)  because he ticked me off beyond belief which caused my throat to hurt which caused me to suck on a throat lozenge.  Suddenly, yet not surprisingly, Austynn's throat hurt and he desperately needed a "candy cherry Hall's thing".  On Wednesday night, predictably, we heard moaning from Austy's bedroom..."my throat hurts...ooohh".  On Thursday morning the complaining was so bad that I knew if I sent him to school, he would disrupt class and I would have to bring him home.  Now, keep in mind, he was suspended just the day before so I was livid.  "GO UPSTAIRS!" 

Later that day he came downstairs for lunch and complained that his throat was still hurting.  It suddenly occurred to me that he had been quiet all morning.  Hmmmm...?  For Austynn this is highly unusual.  He's a non-stop chatter bug.  His cheeks were flushed.  Strange.  He looked like he had been sleeping...uh oh.  "Austynn come here for a second, Buddy."  Forehead touch.  Sweaty.  Clammy.  Crap!  He is really sick!  NICE ONE, BRI!  Get out the Tylenol....


Rhiannon said...

Awe Mommy Bri, I've done that more times than I can count with Amber. Thinking she just didn't want to go to school. We are mother's we are not perfect. But I wish I had a copy of that hand book. Does it have a chapter onhoe to deal with your know it all 14yr old

Bri Potts said...

Ignore him!

Brenda said...

Hello my sweet friend, as we well know, Joshua is a hypocondriac also. Many times I find myself brushing off his aches and pains. Once in a while that real one comes along and surprises us. It's like the little boy who cried wolf. Great story, wish it wasn't true. ;)

By the way, maybe Jason and I can write a sequel to your book called "And Another Thing..."

As far as the mother you spoke of at the beginning, it will be a very sad day when it all comes back and hits her in the face.