Back from the dead

Although February is the shortest month of the year, it seems to have been the longest for me. I feel like a deflated balloon, waiting for a giant puff of helium to fill me up and give me that much desired "oomph" that I seem to be lacking, lately. This past month we have encountered sickness (First Homey, me, and then a slight case with Homeboy), vacation to Disneyland, homework, teenage drama, daily stresses, my cell phone died (Homeboy. That's all I have to say about that), the upstairs tv died (I will not live with out a tv upstairs. I need something to entertain Homeboy for at least 30 minutes a day), and my laptop bit the big one. Digital scrapbooking kits (etc.) lost. Some pics lost. Documents lost. Programs lost. Money lost.

So what am I going to do about it... complain to you. I try not to post too many of my complaints on my blog, but you know what? Sometimes a girl just needs to purge her ill feelings and stresses to the world! And I'm doing this, so you can relate to me better and feel pity for me. I know, I'm a dork.

The hubs acquired a second part time job, which is a blessing, but increases my stress by 2 nights. Meaning, it's all me when it comes to do the night-time/bed-time routine, 6 nights of the week. Kids won't go to bed when I yell at them... I mean, when I kindly ask them to. And I seem to be lacking the "that gene" that most dad's carry. The "you better do what I am saying, or else" gene.

Homeboy has decided to never mature and obey his dear mother. Instead, he throws a fit every time I try to help him or ask to not do "something" or pick up "something. He lacks patience, that one. And I'll admit it - it comes entirely from me. He still makes indescribable messes and continues to render me speechless. Recently he emptied 5 containers of different spices (Almost all were completely full). He came into my bedroom rubbing his eyes and screaming in pain, from the Paprika that he tried to make a sandcastle with. I asked him why he got into the spices AGAIN, and he blamed it on his "widdle brudder". That's his new thing - blaming all of the naughty things he does on his pretend "widdle brudder". His name is Jacob. Yup, "widdle brudder" even has a name. I would post pictures, but those were a few, in the handful that I lost, due to my stupid computer dying. And don't even get me started on Homeboy and attending Primary. During my last Sharing Time, he stood in front of everyone, held onto his twig and berries and announced he had to pee. Those are the moments that I will always cherish!

Homey has decided to give his brain a rest this year. Brilliant. As a result, he won't turn in his homework on time. Really Homey?!?!?! The kid has had some assignments done for weeks but forgets to turn them in! We have taken away certain, highly-favored, devices, grounded him, lectured him, hugged him, prayed for him, yelled at him, came up with some genius ways for him to be reminded to turn the assignments in, but they have all failed. From the time he was kindergarten to 6th grade, he has been a straight-A student. His teachers praised his math and reading skills and we, as his parents, smiled smugly and basked in the heaps of compliments! "Oh yeah, we are awesome parents. Our kid is smart! We are so cool."

Humility stinks.

I have come to the conclusion that a majority of 13 year old boys become mentally challenged, during these tumultuous years. I truly believe Homey lost many vital brain cells, the same time his arm-pit hair began to sprout. The homework thing became so stressful, we decided to embarrass the crap out of our beloved 13 year old son. Steve attended school with Homey today. Awesome. And Steve may or may have not, flashed his badge to some of Homey's fellow students. I'll say it again... awesome. I may be attending school with him on Wednesday and I told him I will be holding his hand and skipping down the hallways of Sandridge Jr. High with him, and singing Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam. I bet all the kids are jealous that we aren't their parents! Oh, and the DRAMA! Can I just tell you about the drama with this boy. He had a 9th grade girl chasing after him, from the end of summer til the present. She's in 9th grade! Homey is in 7th grade! What the Billy Bob Thorton is she thinking?!?!?!

Get thee, away evil spirit!

I pray daily for the evil spirits to stay away from Homey...especially the curvy, 15 year old, female kind. This week the Lord has listened to my prayers. (insert enormous grin)

These days, every day seems to be a battle. The question is - am I strong enough to endure? A year ago I never imagined I would be dealing with such things and STILL dealing with Homeboy's crazy antics. There are days when I want to throw the towel in and then there are days when I feel the comfort of our Heavenly Father and I hear that little voice encouraging me to hang in there. It WILL get better. This too will pass.

Okay, I'm off the pity-wagon. A big, sincere "thanks a bunch" for listening to me rant. At least my rants aren't as annoying as Charlie Sheen's rants. He's such a fat head.