Is It a Condition or Boy-Syndrome?

I'm not sure if it's because my first child was a girl that perhaps I grew a deluded idea of what children were like, but now, 7 years later, I'm still flabbergasted daily by my son and his need for constant reminders. It's to the point that I'm wondering if there's an underlying medical condition going on in which a memory muncher gobbles up the info the moment he says, "Okay, Mom!" and then munch, crunch, swallow the info is quickly disposed of.

We decided on Monday that Ayden, the 7-yr-old in question, does not need to play Wii before school in the mornings, due to the reaction he has when it's time to shut it off. I worry about gaming addiction and I'm pretty sure he's a prime candidate for it. He gets very emotional about his gaming time and could probably play - literally - all day, foregoing food and drink. I have woken up at 5:30 a.m. to him already up and playing, which is concerning considering that he takes after his dad and I generally have to drag him out of bed.

That being said, and getting back to my original topic, the first words out of his mouth on Tuesday were, "Can I play Wii this morning?" His bright blue eyes hopeful until I answered and popped his dreams, his eyes filling instantly with tears. Today he tried a different tactic: "Did you mean that I couldn't play Wii yesterday morning, but that today it's okay?" Uh, no, what I said was, "You are not allowed to play Wii in the mornings before school. Period." Again with the disappointed reaction. He's been warned that he's now at risk now of losing it for an extended period of time...like until next summer.

So that's one example of his forgetfulness, but what really throws me for a loop is the, "Ayden, go wash your breakfast off your face," and off he runs to accomplish this goal. Minutes later I discover that his face is just as dirty as it was before he ran off. "Ayden, why didn't you wash your face?" A quick look of startled remembrance occurs and off he runs again. Really? You forgot in your run to the bathroom the very reason why you were running there? Look, I might end up looking around a room totally lost and confused about why I'm in the room, but I'm 33 with 3 kids, a husband and tons of responsibility...besides this blog isn't about me.

This morning he dressed himself in camouflage pants and a lime green shirt. "Go change into shorts," I said, "you don't match." He came out wearing khaki pants, but since they matched I held my tongue because I'm very aware of how many times I correct the poor kid and I don't want to give him a complex. Yesterday he had to change his socks THREE times - first tall black ones, then tall white ones and then finally ankle socks (you know, the appropriate kind when you're wearing shorts).

This constant forgetfulness happens with putting shoes on, picking up toys, washing hands, brushing teeth, eating breakfast...just about any instructions I give him are at risk of being forgotten the moment it enters his mind. We've even loaded into the car with NO SHOES on him before and his defense is a quick shoulder shrug and a quiet, "I forgot."

This morning all the kids had a dentist appointments so they were late for school. We unloaded at the school and are walking up the sidewalk and my oldest says to Ayden, "Get your backpack!" Sure enough, his sisters each have their backpacks on but he left his in the car. Granted, I didn't tell him to get it, I figured it was kind of obvious that he would need it.

So is this just a "boy thing"? I've endured the ER visits, the extra-watchful eye to ensure he doesn't jump from the highest point of the swing set and the need for speed, but is this forgetfulness a trademark condition of boyhood or is it something I need to pay closer attention to, that perhaps it does mean that something isn't connecting in that mind of his?

Being a mom is the best job I've ever had, though I live with the certainty that I'm not qualified for this task of raising children to become self-sufficient adults. After all, if I can't properly relay to my child that he has chocolate smeared all over his face that he needs to go wash off, how can I think that one day he'll be able to drive a car, use a grill (oh my word, what a terrifying thought!!!) and raise a family of his own?

Love 'em while they'll still let you and thanks for reading!

Say Thank You (or else)

*Disclaimer: sometimes women must get things off their chest before they explode. The words spoken, while true, are often harsher than originally intended because they've been fermenting for days, months, weeks, heck, even years.

Husbands. Oh, yes, husbands.

I don't believe in whining and complaining with a bunch of girlfriends about my husband, because each of us will leave with our teeth bared and a list of "he doesn't do this OR that," with which we hunt our husbands down and use like a whip. However, there are times when I must ascertain that I am not alone with my feelings and that they are also completely normal.

I want to do all the nice things for my family - cook, clean, wash, fold, plan, organize, file - however when it becomes an expectation, I grow cold. I mean frigidly cold. First off, I don't get paid for this job. My currency is appreciation and thank-you's and when that bank runs dry I get nothing and I think, "Why the heck am I going through all this trouble??"

• I could live for a month off cereal and sandwiches. I wonder how my family would feel about that?

• I could probably splurge and buy enough paper plates, bowls and disposable silverware to last me for a month. Without buying dishwasher detergent, it would be a cost-wash.

• I wonder what it's like just to wash and fold my own clothes?

• Why file papers? I can just shred them and be done with it.

• Who needs a clean toilet if we never have company?

The threats are fun to come up with, but I rarely follow through with any of them. The one time I did, I told my husband that if he couldn't at least put away the clothes that I sorted, washed, dried and folded then I would stop folding them. The deal was if the clothes were still in a folded pile by the next time I did laundry, his clean clothes would be left in the basket. I only had to do it twice before he realized I wasn't kidding, but it was so hard to actually follow through on. The teenager-type punishment felt spiteful. Besides, the lesson didn't last long.

It's difficult when your husband's a great guy who's easy to love. He works hard, provides well, wrestles with the kids, and surprises you with his generosity, but why can't he put forth the little extra effort to show that he really appreciates the work you do on the home front? I just don't get it. The lack of direct appreciation makes me feel like a servant who does a bad job.

Is this just a guy thing or have I enabled my man to get off so easily? I don't have the cut throat personalities of some ladies I know whose husbands' wouldn't even consider not putting in their fair share of the workload. I think it comes down to personality. I have a quirk of either we get along all the way or we don't get along at all. I can't be a little mad at somebody and still want to talk to them. I'm all or none. I don't know what created the personality glitch, but I've had it for as long as I can remember. So when I'm mad at my husband he will usually have no clue what he's done, only that he's getting the full-on silent treatment (remember, won't talk if I'm mad) and then I finally get over it and everything's fine again (all or none.) It's unfair to both of us really.

My reality has been coming in little comments from my 6-year-old son. A couple months ago he said to his dad, "Girls cook and clean for us and we work outside." Fury, fury, red alert!!! That's because that is what he sees! Then last night, my little boy said, "Mom, you're kind of like our waitress." That did it. For my son to see me in that role made me see stars. I had just finished making a rather elaborate, involved meal that I knew I would have to clean up solo (husband working night shift) and as soon as I was done in the kitchen, I fired an unloading email off to my husband. The poor guy.

I woke up to a spotless kitchen and the small, ever present pile of folded clothes were put away too. Did this make me feel better? No!! Why? Because I had to ask to get it. It's only the result of me being pissed off enough to say something. Men, look around your house and do something. Even if it's small, your wife will notice. If she doesn't comment on it - she still notices! Think about all the chores she does around your house and ask yourself, "Do I thank her for each and every time she sweeps/cooks/folds/wipes??" The answer, most assuredly, will be "NO," so don't do what all wives hate and point out your grand accomplishment and expect a standing ovation.

Men and women will forever be different, as we are chemically, physically, emotionally, and mentally different. However, we must learn to co-exist (especially if we're married!) and I don't believe co-existing means one of us learns to "put up with" doing the majority.

To my darling husband, I love you so.