Too much t.v. (screen time) = nighttime freakout fests

I've realized that time in front of the t.v., whether it be just watching a show or playing the Wii, results in my youngest child waking in the middle of the night, screaming and/or walking into my room hollering, "MOM!" I did a test one day and limited his Wii time to one hour. He stayed in bed that night and did not yell or scream or anything. Last night, he woke up and tried to come into my room and was yelling "MOM!" and he had no idea he was doing it. Sleepwalking. He had been in front of the t.v. most of the day.

Hubby decided this morning that both kids are not to play the Wii. I get to break the news to them when they ask if they can play it. Lucky me! They are on Spring break this week and hubby is in school (some sort of cruel joke, me thinks) and I work from home, so of course I'm the bad guy when the house isn't quiet as I do my technical work, and I ask the kids to hush up. My work is very detailed and if I put in a wrong character (keyboard/typing/HTML stuff), everything goes awry. I need to concentrate while working! The kids can play in their rooms or go outside. They can read or go to their friends' houses.

A few months ago, I decided to check the website for Singulair (an asthma medication) and right on the front page was a notice regarding side effects. Guess what one was? Night terrors and sleepwalking! After talking with hubby, we immediately ceased giving Singulair to K. He'd been sleepwalking for years and we didn't put two and two together. His screaming and sleepwalking stopped. Now the trigger is too much screen time.

Haven't you heard the warning - children should have no more than two hours of screen time a day. It keeps their developing brains from the right kind of stimuli. They veg out in front of the thing and become fat and lazy. I don't want that to happen to my kids - do you?? Time to lay down the law with them. They can do something else besides watch t.v. and/or play video games forever.

Yeah, well, you wouldn't post either if you broke your ankle

On January 15, 2011, I was in the yard with family. It was a balmy 54 degrees and I declared, "Let's work in the yard! Let's clean up and make it look good!" I should have known, when J accidentally smacked me in the head with a large branch which was cut from an overgrown Maple, that the day was to go awry.

The four of us were working down in back of the house on a slope. Hubby had the chainsaw and was cutting low-hanging limbs from trees. The boys were hauling debris down to the burn pile. I took a shovel and was digging out a fence that the previous owners had buried. I tossed the slats aside for the boys to drag to the burn pile. I had just tossed the last one aside when WOOSH! Down I went. Excruciating pain and scream from me, I managed to have my brains and yelled, "Call the hospital!!" Hubby had J go up to the house to call 911. Hubby wanted to move me off of the wet ground, and I could not stand on my left foot because it felt all crunchy inside. He carried me to a plastic chair that was carried up from the burn pile (no, it wasn't in the burn pile, but near it) and that's where I waited for the EMTs to show up.

Long story short, in the Emergency Room I was given morphine for the pain. I had never had that stuff before. Hubby has, on numerous ER visits, but not me. X-rays were taken, and I think that was the only time I cried during the whole thing. Turned out that I broke my ankle in three places. I'd always wondered what it was like to use crutches. Never broke a leg or anything up until that point. Walgreen's was open 24 hours, so that's where we went after the ER to get meds and crutches. I hate crutches. I think my wondering what they were like was an omen.

I had surgery on January 24. I now have eight pins and a metal plate in my ankle. I'd show the x-ray to you, but it's a PDF file instead of jpg or gif. I was laid up in bed until February 2. Hubby was nurse, cook, maid, you name it. He was great (and still is!) through it all.

Luckily, I work from home and was able to use a laptop in bed for a while until I felt ok enough to hobble on crutches into the living room where the desk is. That is where I've been working ever since. Now, on the topic of having the laptop upstairs and the desk upstairs - this must have been a sign. My home office is downstairs. After December, I moved up to the desk upstairs and used the laptop. The move was because my downstairs office was so frozen (no forced-air heat) that I couldn't work. When it was 13 degrees in November, that was the last straw. It's almost like this was all meant to be. And it was a Godsend that hubby wasn't working or in school at the time - who would have been my nurse, cook, housekeeper??

I've had good days and bad. I've been sad, depressed and a crying mess. Why isn't my ankle moving very far? Why is it stiff, even though I've been exercising it? Why did I have to fall in the first place? Why me??? Can I just turn back time, please?

Today is April 5. I am still using crutches, but I've been given the go-ahead to put weight on my foot and try to walk. I am anxious for physical therapy to start but first need to get through my next appointment with the surgeon. He'll move my ankle and see if I need more work (I do, I know that already) and he'll send me off to PT. That's why I haven't posted in eons. I will be better about it, I promise.

What causes stress?

I'm sitting here at my desk, working away, thinking about something I saw on J's dresser. About an hour ago I decided to check his online grades and saw that he got an F on an assignment for his Health class. I had gone upstairs afterwards to see if I could find the assignment in his room. I looked on top of his dresser because there were papers piled on it and if an assignment was anywhere in his room, it would be on top of his dresser.

There was a green folder on top of the dresser, and this I knew was his Health folder. I decided to take a peek and look for the assignment. That kid has no sense of organization - I found a History assignment! I also found a different Health assignment covering the topic of Stress. Glancing through, I learned that my husband and I are #3 on J's list of stress causers (is that a word??). Now, how can parents cause stress? Really. Think about it. We want our children to do their best in school. We try to teach responsibility by doling out chores to the kids. Is it our fault that our child chooses not to do his best in anything? Is it our fault he is getting bad grades? I don't think so. I think it's his problem because he has decided to just skate by and do the least amount of work. Is it our fault that we want him to learn what it means to be accountable for his actions? I don't think so. How are parents causing stress on their kids? Maybe someone needs to enlighten me.

What is worth $10?

The bus for the middle school came and went. I heard it from my office downstairs. I knew J was still asleep. Here we go again. I called the school and talked to the attendance-line voicemail and said that J overslept and missed the bus AGAIN and would be walking this time. I said that I didn't know when he would get there.

At 7:15 a.m., I went upstairs to make a cup of tea and noticed that K had woken himself up and was in the bathroom. I opened J's door and said, "Are you planning on going to school today?" He seemed somewhat awake but not really, and said rather groggily, "Yeah." I said, "Well, you've missed your bus and you're walkin'!" The anguished cry that came out of his mouth was almost heartbreaking, but I had to stand firm and hold my ground. He cried, "NO!!!!!!" but I walked away and went back downstairs.

A little bit later, K hollered down the stairs, "I guess J didn't have a poptart today." I yelled back, "No, that's because he didn't wake up. He's in his room crying because he missed the bus." Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but it was the truth.

Around 7:45 I heard the front door open and close and I ran upstairs, knowing it was J going off to school. I knew he didn't take his meds, so I opened the door and found him on the porch. I asked him if he took his meds and he said he hadn't. I said, "You need to take those." He came back inside, took them, and went back out the door. I said to him, "Run."

You may be asking yourself, 'what does the subject line of this post have to do with being late for school?' Earlier in the week, J missed the bus and had to pay his dad $5 for a ride. I told J that I would take him if he paid me $10. Yes, $10. I work and driving him to school would take 30 minutes out of my day and I figure that's a good rate for me missing work. So, the way I figure it, either J didn't want to part with his remaining $10 in his wallet or he just forgot about that offer. He didn't bother trying to coax me into driving him. I think he knew he had blown it by turning off his alarm and going back to sleep. Maybe he'll learn a lesson.

Responsibility

We are teaching our 13 y.o. about responsibility. In fact, he is "learning" about it in his Health class, but I don't think he really knows what the word "responsibility" means.

Last night, before bedtime, we were discussing a Parent Gram that comes home each week from the Health teacher. This discussion took place between my husband, our son and I. The Parent Gram is a sheet of paper that tells what is being taught in the current lesson. There are questions the parent can ask the child that pertain to the lesson. One of these was, "What does responsibility mean to you?" When our son was asked this question last night, his answer was, "Knowing you have to get stuff done and you do it." He's 13. I guess that's what he thinks it means.

This morning, as I type this, it is just about 7 a.m. My son should be on the school bus. Instead, he is asleep. He has yet to wake up. I reckon he'll awake suddenly, look at the clock on his nightstand, burst into tears and run downstairs to tell me he just woke up. I know this will happen because it has happened before. Usually my husband is home and is able to take J to school if he misses the bus, but today I am here with just two sleeping children.

My husband and I once decided to make J walk to school if he missed the bus. First of all, the school is several miles away and the road to the school is not safe during commuter hours. There are no street lights. There is no sidewalk. We then decided that if J missed the bus, my husband would drive him IF J would fork over $5 to cover gas, time, etc. I thought that would end the missed-bus scenarios, but no. Here we are again, today.

So, you see, we are teaching responsibility to my teenager. I cannot wait until I can explain to him that being responsible means waking up on time and getting to your bus stop on time. It means not being dependant on other people to get you where you need to go.

In ten minutes, I need to wake my other child if he does not wake up on his own. He is eight and in third grade and has the exact same alarm clock as his brother and, guess what? It DOES work and it DOES get set and my little man wakes up most days on his own because he had the forethought to set the alarm the night before! Now, if only his big brother would think like that!

Roger

You've heard of kids having imaginary friends, right? Well, my son has an imaginary pet. My son is 8 and in third grade. He brought this "pet" into our home a couple days ago and it is a dog. When J asked K what kind of dog, K simply said "Brown."

Roger, the imaginary pet, is quite the little trooper. He likes to come out and play and ... he looks just like K! Imagine that! K said that he likes to dress Roger up in his own clothes because it's fun. This is the only way that I have ever seen Roger. And guess what else? No one else has seen Roger in K's clothes (if at all) but me. Wheee! Lucky little me!

After dinner tonight, Roger came out of hiding (yes, he likes to hide in K's room) and decided to play in the kitchen while I cleaned up. I did mention to Roger (or anyone else that wanted to hear) that K needed to take a shower, and I went about my duties in the kitchen. Not a whole minute later, K came into the kitchen to say that Roger would play with me when I was done cleaning up. Wow, how polite of Roger!

Right now, as I type this, K is in the shower. I asked him several times to take a shower but gee, Roger kept coming along to play. Hmm... oh, and totally off topic - I hear K messing with the bath drain. Why would he need to do that? He took a shower, not a bath. And it's getting downright annoying hearing the bath drain go up and down. Oh. I heard the shower curtain move (thanks to the metal hook roller things) and now he is singing and toweling off. I don't want K to get out of the bathroom and come to read what I'm typing, because he is classic at doing that. Oh for the days before he could read!

So I must end this abruptly. Oh, but wait. I just heard what sounded like a dog bark coming from the bathroom. Did K take Roger in there with him?

Cereal

I am starving! It's almost 10 a.m. and I haven't had breakfast yet. I've had two cups of coffee (yes, I decided on coffee today instead of tea) but no breakfast. A couple minutes ago, I went upstairs to fix my hair and put on a little makeup and who did I find in the kitchen but J, holding a practically empty bag of Raisin Bran Crunch. He said, "There's just a little bit left but not enough for another bowl." Knowing that he can't stand raisins, I asked, "What are you going to do with the raisins? Eat them?" He answered, "Pick them out." I said, "It's Raisin Bran. There are lots of raisins. Get real." I then took the bag from him and his bowl and poured the cereal from the bowl back into the bag. He doesn't use milk in his cereal, so I didn't have to worry about it being wet. He says milk "ruins it and takes out the sweetness" but Raisin Bran isn't much sweet to start out with. The only reason he chose that cereal was because there wasn't anything else. I decided to go downstairs and get a box of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios out of the locked pantry. Locked, yes, that's what I said. J once had a problem of hoarding food, so we have to lock the pantry.

Meanwhile, I am still starving. I chose not to eat with J because he isn't much fun to be around right when he wakes up. I could bring something downstairs to eat, but it's hard to eat cereal and type at the same time!