The Sick Husband

O.K. sick husbands are the most annoying creatures on the face of the earth. I had thought, until this point, that the worst sick person in the world was the child on the 3rd day of an illness. The first day is the day when they are too sick to do anything but sleep and rest. The 2nd day is the day they go to the doctor. They are still sick and want to be cuddles. The 3rd day, well that day is the first step into hell. When the child feels poorly but well enough to know they feel poorly. They are tired of sitting and sleeping all day. They are whiney, grumpy. Now, take that 3rd day child and multiply it by 10 and you have the sick husband.

Jose had to have two hernia’s repaired on Thursday. The only day since then that I have liked him much at all was Thursday afternoon when he was still under the effects of the anesthesia and sleeping a lot. Since then he’s been a bit like a bear in winter. Shuffling out of the bedroom. Grumbling through the living room and complaining about every thing. Now, it may surprise you to know that Jose is a bit of complainer about housework anyway. The fact that he prefers to focus on the negative and complain about anything that I do instead of saying thank you (because when I clean it does look better than it did before I cleaned) is the reason that I refuse to do any cleaning around the house at all. My argument being that if you are going to give me a lecture or complain when I clean just like you do if I don’t clean – then why put forth any effort for the lecture. I’d just as soon get the why don’t you clean lecture while reading a steamy romance than have spent 2 hours scrubbing and get the same lecture because I didn’t see a piece of paper under the table.

Anyway – that is the part of Jose who is walking through the kitchen every few minutes. I got up early this morning and went to town to get lesson plans ready for tomorrow and Tuesday and go grocery shopping. When I got back, I was hungry and began to cook my breakfast / lunch once the groceries were put away. Jose arrives in the kitchen and begins to complain about the dishes in the sink from the night before. The same dishes I asked him to get Franklin to wash as I had just cleaned the kitchen / washed the dishes and cooked supper that night. Jose stands in front of the dishes, picks up the bowls and begins to put them away all the while talking (seemingly to himself but loud enough for me to hear – though I can promise you he doesn’t want a response and definitely not the one that I was about to give him) about how it looks like he’s going to have to put the dishes away if he wants the kitchen clean. Even though he’s had surgery, he guesses he ‘s going to have to keep working because he wants the house clean – despite the fact that the two nights before I had spent 2 hours in the kitchen cleaning it from top to bottom for which I got a “looks pretty good” the highest praise ever from said grumpy-puss. If it’s not the kitchen it’s the toys in the living room. The same toys he’s left in the floor for 2 weeks when he feels well – suddenly has to be immediately picked up at that very instant.

Anyway, we’re in day 4 of his recovery. He’s shuffling a little more quickly now – though apparently hernia surgery sometimes makes your cahoonas ache so much that you don’t even want to touch them – and I’m hoping we’re on the downward slide. It’s bad enough that I’m back on laundry duty because of the damn surgery – This complaining stuff will have to stop soon or you’ll find dermabond on Jose’s mouth before Christmas.

Mother of Three

 


Well, as many of you know, or may not know, Franklin, Jose’s oldest son has come to live with us. He’s been here just over a month and it has been an interesting experience to say the least. Though I work with 15 year old boys every day, I have learned that living with them is quite different. I have detailed some of the things that I have learned in my latest video (located on myspace http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.myvideos). Let me take this opportunity to share my learning experiences here.

1. I have learned that 15 year old boys are about the same as an 11 year old girl. They still very much like to play. Franklin will go outside with Elijah and Isaiah and jump on the trampoline, or get guns and play army with Elijah. This has really been a blessing. Isaiah loves Franklin as much as he ever loved Elijah.

The downside:
Franklin who takes care to bundle up himself with sweats, shirt, sweater, jacket, socks and shoes will then walk outside with Isaiah who is wearing only a diaper. Apparently if you were born in Kentucky you don’t feel the cold the same way. And, when Franklin decides to come back in, he does leaving Elijah and Isaiah to follow. Elijah follows and thus Isaiah is left outside alone. And let me describe to the how wonderful is the music that comes from the back seat and the living room when Franklin and Isaiah begin to play together. I didn’t realize how annoying the word Mama could be until I heard it uttered time and again in the slightly higher pitched whine of Elijah who was ready to tell on Franklin for doing something.

2. 15 year old boys are social creatures. Socialization is really more important to the teenager than anything else. I suppose that’s true unless you were a loser like me – for whom socialization was really not an option (I had no friends in high school).

The downside:
Franklin was having some trouble staying away from MSN Messenger and the computer his first couple of weeks of school. As I was spending 3 or more hours every night working with him on his homework (having to do twice as many problems because I didn’t want to show him how to do the work by doing his homework); Imagine my surprise and irritation when I walked over to the computer to check on his work (he was translating English to Spanish) and discovered he was chatting with his friend on messenger. Though Franklin doesn’t speak English very well (or at all really) he was more than able to understand that if he did that again, I would throw the computer away (not true for those of you who know how cheap I am – but I would have at least moved it out of the living room). And he was even able to find the English skills to inform me that the world can no longer exist without technology. My creative solution was to put a password on the computer so that he couldn’t log onto the computer until all his homework was completed. The result – his grades have risen from a 69.8 on his first test to a 94 on his last one. His first password? Geometry. And each password since has been math related.

3. Apparently Jose has passed on the finicky eater / picky / ungrateful cuss gene to his child. Franklin, who after living in a 3rd world country with little variety in his diet, would perhaps be excited and grateful for new and abundant food. That is, emphatically, not the case. Franklin doesn’t like anything I cook. And he has not yet been trained, as has Jose, to just keep his opinions to himself. Instead, he looks at what I’m cooking and if he doesn’t like it makes gagging motions, faces and sounds over my food. Which usually makes me very grumpy. So, like his father, he must fend for himself in the kitchen. He does like chocolate though – and sometimes, if I’m feeling friendly, I’ll get him a chocolate bar.

4. There are different rules that come from having an older child come to live with you. I am always very cautious about going into this room – especially when he’s home. But I’m beginning to lose my respect of the space when he’s not at home. I’m thinking that I’m going to be one of those snoopy mothers who feels quite happy piddling through backpacks, drawers, diaries, whatever. I am also about ready to start treating him like a child instead of a guest. I’d prefer he be able to speak better English so that when I give him a lecture he understands all of it – though, like all kids, he’ll tune out 80% - with the language barrier he’s currently only getting 80% of 2% - which he may hear and understand the word good when I’m telling him that it’s no good – and that’s not the message that I want him to walk away with.

5. Boys are different from girls. Franklin has been here a month and is calling his mother tonight for the 2nd time. It’s her birthday. So he gets some credit for calling tonight. But he didn’t want to write or send a card and though that sending pictures was just silly.

6. Desire for high fashion is apparently cross cultural. Being a cheap apparel person myself, I don’t fully appreciate or understand why anyone would want to spend a lot of money on any piece of clothing – especially when it looks like any other piece of clothing. But Franklin seemingly is a bit of a clothes snob – and I feel a bit sorry that he will be slumming at walmart until he find a way to support himself independently. He is grateful that shoe carnival has good shoes on sale at a price that Jose considers affordable.

7. 15 year old boys don’t make good babysitters. Not only does Franklin sometimes forget to clothe and retrieve my child who is outside; he is not very interested in the other aspects of childcare (and really, let’s be honest, this is one of the reasons I was so excited for him to be coming up). On the few occasions that he has been left in charge of the kids it has been disasterous. The first time, Isaiah got the salt shaker and dumped the entire contents on the table, kitchen floor and living room. Large salt shaker, newly filled, lots and lots of salt. When Jose and I arrived home, Franklin was on the computer and the house looked like the snow globe had finally settled. The second time, Isaiah had taken off his own poopy diaper (sort of a nice feature if you’re able to keep up with him because at least you know he knows when he needs to be changed). However, Franklin, who apparently feels diapering is beneath him, just let Isaiah wander around. Those of you who are moms know that poopy diapers also mean poopy bottoms – which means that the couch became the largest most expensive piece of toilet paper ever. Fortunately, Franklin decided to tell me that there was poop on the couch right before one of Isaiah’s therapists arrived for a session. This was about 2 hours after I had arrived home. The last time that he was in charge of the kids, we had another poopy diaper issue, but this time it was on the kitchen table. So, on the top of my to do list is to teach that child how to change a diaper – as I’m sure he’d rather learn how to do that than have to clean poop off the table, couch, floor, etc.