I don't have it in me

Monday Night Class only has three sessions left. It's a good thing too because after the one we had last night I just don't know if I have the desire to attend any more of those things. See, on one hand this year's night classes have been really good. There's been a lot of helpful information, some good ideas, some theraputic venting and some really enjoyable moments. On the other hand, there's been Vincent. (Not his real name but for some reason that's what I always think it is.)

Vincent is a blowhard. Vincent likes to wait for someone to make a point or ask a question and then sit back and spend about 10 minutes dispensing some of his folksy, "golly gee, I'm just a simple man and what do I know" wisdom. He talks with long pauses and thoughful faces and dramatic hand gestures. To really understand how annoying this guy is there are two things you need to know about old Vinny.

1. He always seems to think he knows what's best even though he really doesn't seem to know diddily crap. Casually mention that you've had a rough week and he'll go on a long tangnet about how you should take up building birdhouses as a hobby and you can include your kid and that will cure all your problems. Vent about your child having a major meltdown in the middle of your best friend's wedding and he'll school you for 5 minutes on how giving your child a peppermint patty when they're feeling bad will solve everything. Ask him what his own child's official dianosis is? He won't know. Ask him if his son goes to physical therapy? He can't tell you. Mr KnowItAllAndJustGottaShareItWithYou doesn't even know enough about his own damned child to say if he's in therapy or not. He must know that his son has a special need because he comes to this class but he can't even tell you what that need is. But he can cure everyone else's problems

2. His advice is always a little bit insulting. Sometimes it's the look he gives you when he says something. Sometimes it's the way he seems to be insinuating that if you were any kind of a parent at all you would already know the answer to whatever question you asked. Sometimes it's just the fact that he seems to think that we're all just standing around scratching our butts and waiting for someone to enlighten us all about the best way to raise a child with special needs. If I talked to Vincent the way he talked to other people here are a couple of things I might say to him: "Gee Vincent. I don't know a whole lot about nothing but it seems to me that you might want to cut little Bobo's hair. I'm just a simple gal but it seems to me that little Bobo looks a lot like Holly Hobby. Not a good look for a boy! And have you ever heard of a comb Vincent? There's no reason to style the kid's hair with an egg beater, heh heh heh heh." or "You know Vincent ..... (long pause as I stare up at the ceiling and bask in my own amazingness) ..... I've always found that people seem to like it when you don't act like a giant know it all asshole towards them. Of course, I don't know much and maybe I'm wrong and certainly don't mean to offend anyone and I know we're all on the same side here but it just seems to me like you're acting wrong here."

So last night, Vincent really crossed the line with me. I don't know why. He's certainly made me the focus of his down-home wisdome before. I don't know why last night it touched such a nerve in me. I probably have to examine that and see what it is about it all that pissed me off so much but in the meantime, here's what happened.

One woman in the group mentioned that her 6 year old will be playing t-ball this summer. She said she was worried that he would go out there and not participate and would just end up off in his own little world. I mentioned that we had a person from Arise (a local service that helps kids with special needs take part in sports and other non-school related activities) come out and help Joseph out when he played soccer last summer. I said I thought it was great because his Arise person was really good about making sure that Joseph got everything he could out of his time in soccer. I could already see Vincent puffing himself up in preperation for a big speech so I went on to further explain what I meant.

I said that I really didn't care how well Joseph played soccer, I just wanted it to be a positive thing for Joseph. I explained that Joseph's Arise person had helped him enjoy soccer more because she helped him with everything from better understanding the practice drills they were doing to jumping in when she saw him get picked on by an older kid to reassuring him when he was unsure about being able to do something. All of that helped Joseph to enjoy the experience more and he was pleased with how much better he got at the game. Again I said that his soccer ability was not what mattered to me.

I hardly even had lst word out of my mouth before Vinny jumped in. I'm paraphrsing here but not exaggerating.

"You know Jen, I think you ...... and by you I mean society as a whole ....... might be focusing a little too much on things that don't really matter. I know that when they gave us little Bobo's diagnosis they told us-"

I jumped in here to ask him to remind me what little Bobo's diagnosis was again.

"Hmmm.... well, um, heh, well I ....... You know, I can't really....that is to say .... heh heh. Anyway, when they gave us the diagnosis they told us that he probably wouldn't ever be the best football player or the most popular kid in school or the smartest or whatever but you know, I just don't care about that. It seems to me like when you put that kind of pressure on Joseph then you might be showing him that you care more about that stuff then you say you do. You say you don't care about that kid of stuff but the truth is, we all do. I mean, I don't but I think most people do. You just might need to accept that Joseph might not every be the best soccer player. That's just how it seems to me but I'm not really an expert on these types of things."

I didn't even really respond. I knew he would just use anything I said as an excuse to further school me on why he is awesome and I am not. In my head though I was just raging.

"How dare you! How. Dare. You. I have sat here in this room and expressed over and over and over again how amazed I am with Joseph's wonderful wit, loving personality and kind heart. I have marveled at how smart he is and overflowed with pride in his accomplishments. I have made clear that what matters to me is that he's happy and healthy and safe. I could make a list of 100 things that I hope Joseph is good at in his life and you wouldn't find soccer or any other sport anywhere on that list. I don't care about sports more than I care about my child so haw dare you say those things to me."

Logically I know why he said that stuff though. He said it because he listens to about 1/10 of what people say and he uses that as a jumping off point for one of his lectures. He cares so little about anything other than what he has to say that he doesn't even bother to notice all the other little details. Even if those other details are things like other people's feelings or his own child's diagnosis. And that's just sad for him.

You know, I started this post really angry. I didn't know why it set me off so much and I guess I still don't but I have realized something. Vincent is sad. And when Monday Night Class is done he won't have a captive audience to share his "wisdom" with. He won't have gotten anything out of the group. He'll have wasted his time there because he was so determined to prove how smart he was about everthing.

I'll have gotten some good information, some contact numbers, some helpful ideas and some laughs. If I find myself getting pissed off at Vincent during the final three groups I'll just have to sit back and let him babble on, knowing who's really coming out ahead in this situation.

That would be cool

I've been emailing on of the baby's daddies (tm IDAT) for a while and we've worked out that we're going to get together this weekend and to out to eat. We'll bring the kids and they'll bring their son so that the whole family can meet each other. Should be fun and it will be nice to get to know the IF I didn't get to meet when we were in LA.

My IFs have still not selected an egg donor. I understand their desire to take their time and make the right choice but dang, I'm ready to get this show on the road. I can't get too upset though because they're also trying to get the hospital here to accept my surrogacy insurance so that I can see my old OBGYN and deliver right here in town. That would be awesome. I love my OBGYN and it would be nice not to have to make the half hour drive to the clinic I was going to have to go to. So I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that that works out.

We've started going to Monday Night Class again. It's a total reversal of last year when I left each class wanting to bang my head against a wall. The parents in it this year are nice and funny and friendly and don't spend the entire class telling long, drawn out, boring stories about what kind of sandwiches their kid likes or what they bought at Wal-Mart or what their husband said when they bought a sandwich at Wal Mart. I left the class not hating people. What a change!

Lack of news

I'm just updating to say that I really don't have much to say.

Elle's second tooth is still hiding and continuing to bother her once in a while. I'm sure it's going to come in any time now but I've been thinking that for a week now.

Joseph is continuing to sleep in his room at night without climbing into bed with us. He had one little slip up last night but otherwise Jesse and I have had our bed to ourselves.

We went to Monday Night Class this week. The lady who never shuts up continued to never shut up tonight. She's just terrible. I have to restrain myself from banging my head against the table whenever she opens her mouth to talk. It's nearly impossible to get a word in edgewise once she gtes going. We're supposed to be meeting to exchange ideas and discuss problems but she seems to think it's just a platform for her tell one long, rambling, pointless story after another. She's utterly clueless too. She doesn't even seem to notice that when she starts talking that everyone just stares off into space, trying to will themselves to a happier place.

Relay for Life meeting tomorrow. Gah. Why did I say I would be the captain? Ben, I think I have a fun game we could play. Email me if you're interested. It would require a couple of minutes on-line a day if you could swing it.

Joseph is weird

Joseph and I went to Monday Night Class last week. When we were leaving he said that he liked all of the kids in the class and that they were all his friends. Then he said "The most one I like is Isabella ...... I think I just fell in love!". Later he was talking about her more and he said "I think I have a girlfriend now!". He is a strange little boy.

Opps!

I just realized that we didn't take Joseph to Monday night class yesterday. He'll be gone for next weeks class and the week after that there is no class. Well shoot, what am I going to do without my Monday night class to keep me entertained? I guess I could stick sharp objects in my eyes and ears to replicate the experiance.

I tried updating my baby ticker on the top of the page to show the new (I hope) date for when the baby gets here but it doesn't seem to be working right now. I'll have to futz with that a bit. Eek, it's coming soon!

Monday Night Class

The dreaded Monday Night Class started up again last night. It seems to be a mixture of some new pretty normal people and some of the same old freaks and weirdos. There were 4 people in the group who would not stop talking no matter what. It got kind of amusing to watch them try to out-talk each other after a while. One would stop to take a breath and the other 3 would jump in and talk for 5 minutes straight. The parent educator kept trying to nicely move things along but I don't think subtlety is going to work with these people. She may have to bring a big stick to the next class to hit people over the head with. I told Jesse that we have to go in thinking htat we're there for Joseph (because he enjoys it) and not to expect to get anything out of it, including the chance to talk. Seriously, we were interrupted about 5 times while introducing ourselves.

My favorite mother from last year is back. Ok, not my favorite but the one who nearly had me bursting a blood vessle every time she talked. She does this thing that just drives me crazy. She thinks everything is "amazing". She describes things that way about 10 times in one sentance. Only here's the thing: She says it wrong. Instead of saying "It was amazing" she says "It was amaze". Every single time she says it like that. I have to bite my tounge not to correct her. I don't know if she's saying "amaze" or "a maze" but either way it's wrong and makes me want to lunge across the table screaming "AMAZING AMAZING AMAZING!" just to get her to say it right. It's strange how something so small can drive you so nuts. It's amaze really.

Just like Pinnochio

This morning I put Joseph in a plain white t-shirt and put a blue and yellow football jersey over it. He looked so cute! He started to cry though and told me that everyone would laugh at hom for wearing two shirts because he looked "just like Pinnochio when he was a real boy and played baseball".

Huh. Hard to come up with an argument to that.

(Just to be clear I want to point out that none of those unkind things I said about that other family were ever said to Joseph or even in front of him. I'm just venting here. In spite of how it may sound I actually feel very bad for the little boy since the people who are raising him are total idiots and he would probably be better off being raised by howler monkeys. But I do feel sorry for him. Dang, now I'm feeling guilty over some stuff I typed and never even said out loud to anyone. I'm gonna go cry.)

Final night class

Despite feeling (and looking) like I had been run through a food processor last night I took Joseph to his final Monday Night Class. He was lloking forward to it because we were going to have a pizza party and it was his job to bring juice.

When we got to the class I pulled aside the main "teacher" and told her how uncomfortable I was with the woman and her sister who said such rude things about Joseph last week. She was just shocked when I told her what they had said. She actually wanted to pull them aside right then and talk to them. I said I didn't think that was needed since that was the last class but I did want to be sure that the sister (who always stays in the room with the kids) didn't pull her usual stunt of trying to act like a teacher and tell Joseph (and other kids) what to do. The teacher (who I'll call "K") agreed that was not appropriate and said she would talk to the other teachers so that they could watch out for it too.

After we had eaten out pizza Joseph got up throw away his plate and the trash can was over by the door. Miss Mac Truck sees him going by the door, barrles over there and says "Joseph, you need to stay in the room!" As I'm heading over there Joseph keeps trying to get to the trash can and she puts her hands on his shoulders and moves him over about 3 feet! Oh man, it's a good thing K got over there first because I was about to tear into the woman. It's not like she pushed him but for cripes sake lady, keep you damn, flabby hands with your gross dirty nails off my kid. K got to her first and said pretty much "Don't ever do that again, you've been told not to do that, it's not your job, there was a teacher standing right by the door watching him, he was ok, you're not supposed to be doing that and it makes the parents and staff here very uncomfotable when you do and so on and so on".

Shortly after that I saw K go into the hallway with the woman and her sister and after they came back in they kept shooting me evil looks. Then they stared at me for the rest of the night. It took every ounce of maturity I could muster not to stick my tounge out and say "ha ha!". K told me after class that the mother was very confused as to why her sister "Fatty Fatty Mc StretchPants" got such a stern talking to and if she couldn't stay in the room witht he kids then they woulnd't be coming back next year. K told them that it wold not work for her to stay in the room and if that was how she felt that was too bad but that it simply was not working out.

Ha! So next year when we go to Monday night class the amount of annoying people will have been cut down by about 15%. Of course, if I know my laws of nature they will have been replaced by someone even worse but I'm just gonna go with this good feeling for now.

Oh, before I forget. I got a neti pot last night to try to clear out my sinues and I almost drown myself using it. I am awesome. I'm going to try it again today to see if I can't finish off the job.

It tastes like burning!

Last night at Joseph's parent/child class a police officer came and talked to the kids about safety. I asked Joseph what the officer told them and our conversation went like this:

Joseph: Officer Nick told us not to go in other people's yards or houses if we don't know them.
Me: Why not?
J: Because they might be strangers.
M: Right, and who's house could you go into?
J: Grandma's and Beanie's and your's and The Wheeze's and Officer Nick's.
M: And other people too if Mommy and Daddy tell you it's ok. What else did he tell you?
J: Not to get in stranger's cars.
M: That's a good idea.
J: Why?
M: Because there are some people who aren't very nice to kids. Only go in someone's car if Mommy or Daddy or Grandma or Grandpa say it's ok.
J: Or in Officer Nick's car. And I always have to wear a seat belt.
M: That's right, what else did you talk about?
J: Not to take candy from stangers.
M: Why not?
J: Because it could have poison or, you know, maybe be on fire.

This conversation was much more amusing than the one I had just before it with one of the idiot parents in the class. She thought it was ok to talk about Joseph while he was standing 2 feet away and say such insightful things as "He sure is hyper ain't he?" and "He talks so much that no one else could get a word in with the police officer." (She knew this because for some reason her idiot sister who is roughly the size of a Mac truck comes to the class and stays in the room with the kids during the time when the parents go into another room to talk.) and "He's adopted right? So he ain't your real kid?" She got pretty rude responses from me but not as rude as I would have liked to have been. So here's what I would have said if I could have said whatever I wanted to: "Yes, he's my real kid and no he's not hyper. He just has a lot of energy. You know what energy is right? It's that thing you use when you waddle your fat ass out to the car to go down to the Dairy Queen for the fourth time in one day. Lots of kids are energetic. You should know that but I'm not suprised you don't since your entire family looks like the most exercise it gets is when it bends over to pick up that Cheeto that you dropped last week and just realized was still under the couch. And yes, Joseph talks a lot but I'm glad that he has a lot to say. It shows me he has a lot on his mind and a lot he wants to share with other people. I would rather have a kid who talks too much than to be raising that grunting little pig that you call a child. Oh, and before I go, do you think you could manage, for once, to wear a shirt to class that is not stained in several places. And sis, how about retiring those black stretch pants? They're starting to become a safety issue. If they get stretched any tighter the button is going to fly off and put someone's eye out."

So yeah, it's a good thing to have a little internal switch that doesn't let me let loose like that. I have to admit though that there is a part of me that knows it would have felt damn good to have said that stuff. Of course I would have felt bad later. I'm too nice.

For anyone who thinks I'm being harsh, I should point out that these people have been a thorn in my side since we moved to St Cloud. They used to live in the same apartment building as us and we would see them all the time in the hall, in the lobby, in the garage and in the parking lot. They would literally stop what they were doing and turn to stare at us. Not discreetly either! They would make it pretty clear and they did it every fricken time they saw us. Even after we moved it didn't stop. We would see them everywhere! In the store, in the car next to us on the road, if we would go out to eat and twice (twice for God's sake!) in the emergency room. And each and every time they stared at us like we were naked and had horns growing out of our head. I honestly groaned out loud the first time I saw them come into the parent/child class. We will never be free of them.