Strike a Poseur

Warning:  I’m allowing my ADHD family to rub off on me for this one.  Brace yourself and follow along if you can.

Speaking of ADHD, I’ve been joining several online support groups, as I feel that’s something I need.  I opened one up the other day and became absolutely shattered reading one post.  The person essentially asked what about neurotypicals bothered people with ADHD.  Most responses were humorous.  More than a few were not.  There were some that felt “the lack of emotion must mean a lack of intelligence,” and another postulated that this same lack of outward emoting made them shady or dishonest.  Some of these posts were downright nasty.  Y’all.  It really bothered me.  I had joined this forum – and others like it – in the spirit of coming together, understanding, and maybe learning.  It ate at me all day.

Later at work, I was in my cube.  I’ve been spending a lot of time in there, rather than going out and interacting.  Part of that is I’ve simply had a lot to do.  But a huge part of it is that I’m having a hard time being around negative people.  Sure, every workplace has the gossips and shit-stirrers.  We have someone that has taken negative behavior to an artform.  I’ve been trying to just spare myself and others by isolating.  But just overhearing it that day ate at me.  I cranked up the headphones to drown it out, but you know how those kinds of voices (or that kind of sensitivity) works.  You hear it anyway.

I then flew off the handle about something really dumb – an assignment and having my work product reviewed.  Dumb shit.  Truly.  Then it hit me.  I was not feeling right or acting right.  Maybe it’s hormones.  Either that or I’m losing my merde a bit.  I usually don’t react – much less overreact – to shit online.  I usually am able to drown out or ignore the office bullshit.  This week was a challenge.  Glob, please send the menopause fairy my way.  I’m done with this.

My son went to camp today feeling fabulous.  He had been into “cool hair” this morning, and I had tried a fauxhawk.  His hair is thick.  Like, alpaca wool thick.  I tried a quick tease and spray job, but it quickly became apparent I would need extra support.  Since I had about 3 minutes to work, I used some of those tiny rubber bands and made a series of straight up ponytails down the middle of his head.  He was delighted.  He went to camp. He got teased.  Mother f’er, he got teased at camp for his hair.  My 5 year old kid.  He was seriously bummed about it.  My heart broke a bit.  He’s never been teased, reacted to being teased.  It’s like the end of a certain kind of innocence.  I guess the tiny ponytails are done.  And I may send a tiny billy club in his lunch box next week.  No, I won’t do that.

See? He thought he was the coolest.

And for those of y’all with multiple children: was there a turning point with your kids where suddenly pugilism was the answer to everything?  My kids have always bickered, but now they’re slapping, kicking, and throwing punches.  WTH.  I think I’m going to try a “shirt of togetherness,” where I make them both get into a giant shirt together and stay that way until they can behave like decent people.  And when did your children manage to eat a meal without sending at least 8 oz of food and crumbs all over your damn kitchen floor?  I’m asking for a friend.

I finally got a day to myself today.  I telecommute 2 days a week.  It’s really a gift.  It started as a necessity when I was pregnant, then nursing, but it stuck.  To be fair, I’ve also demonstrated I can do it successfully.  Over this past weekend, I was using my “mom voice” after reaching my breaking point over some such silly shit.  Will asked what my problem was.  I responded that I’m an introvert and that I require time alone to recharge and therefore not act like an inappropriate asshole in public and I had not gotten that.  He quipped back that he was in introvert, too, and he didn’t get time alone.  Excuse me?  He’s a pretend introvert.  He processes out loud just like his son, but he won’t admit it. Every night once the kids are in bed, he’s all up in my grill to “interact.”  Some nights that’s cool.  It’s great.  But when an introvert has had one of those days, “interaction” needs to mean sitting together quietly in a room doing different things.  He doesn’t get that.  Ergo, he’s a poseur introvert.

This was me this morning less than 2 minutes after my beloved family got the hell out of the house.

And it’s hot.  And my daughter decided she wanted to be “snuggly” tonight and chose fleece f’ing pajamas.  She’s also been bugging me to make zucchini soup.  In July.  In Louisiana.  Of course, I’m obsessively knitting a giant blanket so….

Have a great 4th, y’all.  I hope you all find yourselves free of whatever holds you down.

And HEY: There’s a new season of Nailed It on Netflix, AND a bonus mini-episode where they have the guys from Queer Eye on it. Too fabulous. Go watch it!!!!

About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Strike a Poseur

  1. joey says:

    Working introvert moms — the struggle is real. Just as I typed that, Moo flopped down beside me, and I do mean FLOPPED.
    I need the quiet. Ugh.
    Anyway, I’m sorry your hormones are icky. Mine are too. Not this week, but overall.
    Dogs are the cure for crumbs.
    Violence is verboten in the house.
    Pro Tip: If you make them both your enemy, they will bond together and leave you the hell alone. x

  2. Anxious Mom says:

    Asshole kids. 😦 When Little Man had his mohawk, the only person who gave him shit was my effing dad, so that’s good on one hand and awful on the other.

    I’m not sure when the whole “crumbs across the kitchen” thing ends. It’s still ongoing.

    I sometimes think my husband is more extroverted than he thinks, but he will mostly leave me alone after the kids go down when I need it. I’m perfectly content with sharing a space and not interacting.

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