Daphne is the Devil

There’s always something on the internet. We’ve moved on from wang pics to potentially gay 5yr olds. Yeah, what? This post is making the internet rounds lately. Here’s the thing: I am all for putting those judgmental moms in their place. I commend that this mom stood up for her son. Is it bullying? Ehh..I don’t think it is so much as it is moms being the nosy bitches that they can be. (Seriously, have you been to a PTA meeting lately? Moms are nuts.)

But what really bothers me is the correlation between 5yr old boy dressing as Daphne for Halloween and kid being gay. Cross-dressing does NOT equal gay. Being sexually attracted to the same sex equals gay.  I mean, hell, I used to dress my brother up in an Annie wig and ballet clothes cause I wanted a little sister, and he turned out…uh…kind of okay… Now I take the title of the post “My son is gay” as a sort of zing back at the judgy moms and not a declaration of his potential sexuality. It’s the comments that are making the correlation, talking about joining support groups and shit like that. He’s 5. FIVE. He most likely does not biologically have the  gears working to experience sexual attraction, assuming he’s stayed away from genetically modified food and growth-hormone injected meat.

Kudos to the mom. Everyone else, relax. The kid is 5.

Therapy

For a long time, writing posts was a therapeutic process. I could get out all those feelings of the asshats I encountered during my daily life. I’m not sure if I ran into less asshats or if I dealt with them better, but I had less of an urge to get those feelings out.
This past week, I found myself longing for an outlet, but just not having the energy to do so– no asshats involved, but still the need to “talk about my feelings”. It’s like a scream was building up inside me, but it wouldn’t (or couldn’t) come out. Internally, I was a basket-case. Externally, I was abnormally exhausted. I think stress was just slowly wearing me down.
I often joke about my kids being “out to get me”, but this past week it seemed like more than a joke. Normally, one kid is misbehaving and the other is a victim of it. This time, it was both misbehaving and in ways my brain didn’t want to process. I always said I’d be a cool and collected parent, able to handle all the various missteps without blinking. Instead, I found my normal reaction is to shriek and run around the house when I come across something I’m not ready for. Like the time my oldest son’s friend decided to use our computer for things that were most like blocked at his house. We didn’t figure out that part yet, but I responded by…running around my house and shrieking. Sure, I calm down and process in due time, but initially, it’s like the blue screen of death in my brain.
When I’m done processing, I can move ahead and deal with things just fine. But two major areas to deal with on each kid seemed like a lot. Maybe a major and a minor, or two minors…oof. I was chatting with a fellow mom during the week and warned her that it doesn’t get easier. It seems like after they can use the toilet and feed themselves, there would be some minor bumps along the way. Delusional, perhaps. I think there were a few weeks after they were potty-trained and talking and able to communicate what they needed for the first time where I though “Hey, this parenting thing is pretty easy.” HA! Fooled me! It looks like the current crisis is ironing out and they are back to walking around with blanket capes on and…well…the blanket capes kinda through me for a loop. They were very nonchalant about it.
My other issues was work, which was not so much an issue in the classic sense. I’ve been a big proponent of not getting emotions involved at work. Perhaps that’s a generational thing. After going through a dotcom layoff and two buy-out related layoffs, I’ve gotten good at taking everything in stride. My outlook is to do what I need to do and carry on as normal. I don’t take things personally and I don’t look for hidden agendas in every email that goes out. But that isn’t the case for everyone. People seem to have emotional ties, and I suppose I can understand that. In the grand timeline, I’m still very much a noob. I don’t know. Dealing with other people’s emotions in that sort of context is somewhat uncomfortable for me. Too many years being a nerd I guess. But I ended the week with more goals and tasks to handle, and I’m feeling pretty good about that.
So the week started off with suck and ended pretty good. Not too shabby after all I guess. And I’m feeling significantly calmer and relaxed. Stress is just monster.

An example of poor parenting – an essay

I’m not referring to the complete “win” of a moment last week where I managed to completely forget parent/teacher conferences. I have plenty of excuses for that one. Actually, this has nothing to do with me cause I’m such a *cough cough* perfect parent and all. No, really, the forgetting of the conferences was SUCH a fluke.
Yeah, I don’t buy that either.
Yesterday morning, I took over sick child watch to let my husband get some sleep. Our youngest was struck with a nasty stomach bug off and on during the weekend and had it come back “on” Sunday night right after we decided to go to bed. My kids have radar like that to detect when is the opportune time to get sick all over the place.
Anyway, after that lovely night, I stumbled out of bed and into the living room, where my son had been up ALL night watching a variety of cartoons and kids movies. As I drifted in and out of early morning consciousness, he turned on “Dennis the Menace” on from Netflix. I know at some point in my lifetime I have seen this movie, but my mind likes to block it out. I never really cared much for the comic strip (which, by the way, 58 years old..sheesh!) or the movie, and as I lay there blinking at the tv, it occurred to me why: Dennis’s parents really suck at the whole parenting thing. Now I get that Mr.Wilson actually likes Dennis deep down, but think about the whole situation. What parent in their right mind would allow their 7 year old child run amuck throughout the neighborhood and terrorize a poor retiree? Sure, Dennis may “mean well” with his antics and such, but the relationship dynamic between Mr. Wilson and Dennis is still odd, to put it lightly. Now, granted, I don’t know if the dynamic is significantly different between an old dude and a girl vs old dude and boy, but I don’t remember being too friendly with the Mr. Wilson-esque characters in my neighborhood growing up. There were actually two of them. First was Ralph, the blatantly racist war veteran whose main fear rotated between someone walking in his yard and someone of the “wrong” skin color moving in the neighborhood. On a side note, I always thought his name was “Rowlf”..like the muppet.


rowlf
not Ralph the neighbor



The other was Bob. Bob who laughed like a hyena and was always wearing short shorts and a safari hat, meticulously taking care of his lawn. He was the type to laugh at you if you fell on your bike, and then ask if his yard was ok. Good for a few jokes. I think at one point Bob and Not-Rowlf had a blowing up of sorts, but I don’t remember much about it. Probably a difference in lawn care opinions.
Anyway, while we were cordial-ish to each other, I sure the hell didn’t go traipsing about in their respective houses or knock on their door incessantly. That would be weird, sorta like my neighbors who always seemed to be leering at us through the bushes. (Totally different ones than Bob and Not-Rowlf.) Sure, my mom was always excessively paranoid about adults, perhaps rightly so, but she would have grounded me if I disappeared into their houses for even a second.
Which brings me to Henry and Alice Mitchell. Really? It’s “okay” for your son to have a weird relationship with an older man? You’re okay with him barging in the house and bothering the poor guy when all Mr. Wilson wants is to enjoy the few good years of his life in peace and quiet before he is forced to put on Depends or starts developing dementia. Tell your damn kid to bother people his own age for crying out loud instead of shrugging it off like “Oh, you know how Dennis is. *wink wink*” Wake up, you damn fools!
Okay, I feel better having really stuck it too the fictional comic strip parents! Yeah! In your face, fake parents!