Tag Archives: Give me a break

Pessimistic Parenting A Masterclass

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          I see all the advertisements for masterclasses on anything you want to learn whether it is acting, writing, painting, knitting, interviewing CEOs for that elusive job-you’ll-never-get to star gazing. There was even one on breathing. I swear, anything. With that in mind, I decided to do my own ‘Masterclass’ on what I call Pessimistic Parenting. I’m not sure these techniques would fly with the parents these days, but I’m willing to take that chance and throw out some tips that may be useful for the next generation of parents. Or not. You can have kids that turn out to be sociopaths, your choice. Here we go!

You Suck, Kid

          All kids have behaviours that suck. That’s why they’re kids. They don’t know anything yet, so it’s our job as parents to teach them. You need to say ‘no’ occasionally often all the damned time for them to get the idea that throwing Cheerios all over the floor is not appropriate behaviour. Neither is crying in a store, stealing a toy from another child, or sticking their fingers up their noses. It’s all a big fat ‘NO.’ So get used to saying it. And mean it. It’s not enough to say, “No, you can’t have that brownie right now we are having dinner,” then hand over the brownie. You must enforce it, too. There’s a whole list of reasons why sticking to your guns is a good idea, but I’ll just cut to the chase. If you want to avoid your kid being a serial killer, a narcissistic jerk, or a social outcast, please say ‘no’ and mean it. Society thanks you.

The Use of Time Out or Mommy Needs Wine

          Is that a thing nowadays? We used it with our kids and boy were we good at it! But we did a variation called behaviour baseball. Three strikes, you’re out. I mean that was the last straw. To my recollection, it only happened once with my eldest daughter and it was a lot of work for us, but we felt it brought home the point. Remember: If you think you can laze your way through this shit, it won’t work. Just keep replaying Narcissistic Jerk and it will provide the motivation you need to see it through. These were our steps: Strike One: If the child did something after we told her not to, she had to sit on her bed and reflect. Then a discussion around the behaviour, why it was wrong and how to improve. Strike Two: If Step One produced pouting, refusing to discuss and anger, we moved on to her putting pjs on and sitting on the bed. NOBODY likes putting on pjs and sitting on their bed doing nothing. No books, no screens, nothing. Strike Three: If still no compliance it was stripping the room and continuing to sit on the bed in pjs. I mean I took every book from the shelf, every toy, all the bedding, EVERYTHING from the room. Took me a long time, but it was bundled up in garbage bags and removed. She sat there for hours, which gave me plenty of time to have a break, sip some wine and contemplate the reason we had kids in the first place. Then we talked about it, and she had to EARN her shit back. There. The end. We never reminded her of her past behaviours, we moved on hoping to never have to replay the stripping of the room because those books were a pain in the ass to put back. With her help, of course. Then I had more wine and felt like a good mom.

Source That Shit Out

          Oh, please we don’t know everything! But the kids don’t know that. So fake it. We do our best to ensure they’re safe, well fed and clean. The rest is a total fluke, so go with it. Do I know Math? Fuck, no but I don’t have to. That’s what tutors are for. Or Hubby. Do I know how to construct a 3D model of the Space Shuttle with little astronauts for props? Pffft…NO. But again, source that shit out. There is somebody in your ’hood who is DYING to do that, so find him/her and throw them a little gift in the mix. Done. Your job as a parent is to ensure your kid does his best to the best of his ability. Not to outdo the other guy and not to stress yourself out trying to learn what he must learn. I’ve already been to school. I don’t need to go again. Find somebody who LOVES shit like that and get them in there! It will save you from losing your mind. You. Are. Welcome.

Teens, An Adventure into the Abyss of Despair and Chaos

          This is a whole different stratosphere of shit, but to put it in basic terms remember only one thing: YOU ARE NOT THEIR FRIEND. You are an adult. The parent. The person who brought them into this world and can take them out. Limits, limits, limits. The only way. Sorry to have to break it to you, but if you don’t enforce shit, they feel unsafe and they can’t trust you and BOOM, retaliation in the form of anything they can get into. Communication is good. Yelling is pointless. Threats are empty unless you follow through. Taking away privileges is good like keys to the car, phones (you pay for that, right?), computer, tablets, sports, (you pay for that too, right?) social events, etc.  Anything you pay for; you can take away. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. Just wait for the slamming doors and loud music and parties…wow. Such an adventure. That’s why parents drink. That and Christmas, because shopping for everything, wrapping all those gifts just to see your creative yet time-consuming efforts thrown to the side in a heap, and assembling items at midnight, will have anybody reaching for the wine at 5am as junior unwraps the avocado he got from Grandma. Good times. If you manage to survive the teen years and wander aimlessly into adulthood, congrats! You have now managed to reach the pinnacle of your parenting while worrying if they drive safely enough, if they have a stalker who is out to kill or maim them and if they attain gainful employment so as not to return to live in your basement and eat your food. All valid worries.

Thanks for reading my first Masterclass! I hope you enjoyed this episode.  

Good luck parents. Remember, there’s always another year!

AND alcohol.  

Top Ten Ways to Respond to Shitty People

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Let’s face it, not all people are nice or enjoyable to be around. There are times when you are simply going about your business, and someone will come along and try to ruin your perfectly decent day. “Oh, I wouldn’t do it that way,” or “Did you know that putting that there would not please the boss?’ Like no, Debby I had no fucking clue because the BOSS ISN’T EVEN HERE AND WHY DO YOU CARE?  Some folks just can’t help themselves but to make your business, their business. To say that one thing that they know will get under your skin. Here are some helpful tips to put those Nosey Nellies in their places. I hope you can put them to good use.

10. It’s The Way I Was Taught – Beginning any new job, or simply doing the job you’ve been doing for the past twenty years comes with peeps who think they can do it better. When Karen comes along and claims you did something wrong, simply tell her you were taught a new way to do it. Your method is more modern and keeping up with industry standards and maybe she should investigate taking a refresher course because obviously, her method is outdated. And send her along her merry way. You can then send her links to online courses that you didn’t do, but said you did, then she will feel the need to do them. She’ll be occupied for weeks!

9. I Don’t Know What You Are Talking About – Clearly stupefied by the nonsense that is emanating from Doubtful Debby’s mouth, you play the dumb card and simply shrug your shoulders and say, “What report? I did mine last week. Maybe you should go work on yours.” You’re being helpful without outwardly telling her to fuck-off. So kind.

8. Did You Know That Jimmy Buffet Died? – Changing the subject from you to something newsworthy and way more interesting than how you fucked up the last meeting, is a great distracter. A misdirection into some murky gossipy crap you read on the internet will surely illicit a response and take away the attention on you. Well done. And Jimmy Buffet did die, and you need to go play Margaritaville on repeat while drinking a margarita because that’s the only way to honour his memory.

Cheers, Jimmy

7. I Read it Somewhere – A great indifferent statement that’s vague enough to almost hold weight without clearly identifying a source. The answer to everything. Karen will nod and say, “Yeah, where?” to which you respond with, “The Wall Street Journal,” because nobody under the age of seventy reads that shit.  It’s an old journal that only certain business types will even think about being seen with. If she thought you read it there, it’s over her head and she won’t bother to look it up. And if she does, it will take hours of her searching to find it since it doesn’t exist in the first place. A win-win since she’s kept busy doing something stupid, and you get her out of your hair. See? Helpful.

6. Are You Sure You Don’t Remember? – Attacking the innocent seems to be the modus operandi of some individuals. They need to see the meek squirm in their seats while interrogating them to feel superior. They have a self-loathing that only comes from deep-rooted childhood trauma like being picked last for a team in gym class. Put the onus back on the perpetrator of your torture and question their mental faculties. Gaslighting them into thinking they’ve talked about this before like, “Are you sure you don’t remember? We went over this last week. I think you should sit down. Maybe you don’t feel well. You look a little pale.” The power of suggestion will have them feeling their foreheads for fever and thinking they’re about to pass out. Awesome.

5.  That’s Not Your Job – Not a favourite reply of mine, but sometimes people need to be reminded of how limited their reach is. Karen thinks she runs the place, but really, she’s just a control freak with power issues and wants to tell everyone what to do. That’s not your job, Karen. If Karen is the boss, then you are entitled to ponder whether it’s harassment in the workplace to which there are policies in place to protect you. Or there should be. When all else fails, walk out of the room. They can’t speak to you if you’re not there. It’s not running away when you are protecting your well-being.

Buh-Bye

4. Kill Them with Kindness – THEY WILL HATE THAT. Their whole purpose was to bother you and if they see you in a happy-go-lucky mood where you compliment their attire or hair or their accent, or even their crappy shoes you are winning. They will stutter and try another tactic of insulting a project you worked on or even stooping so low as to bring up your kid’s bad behaviour at the restaurant the other night, but don’t let them have the satisfaction. Throw back a, “You’re right, he was acting like an asshole, but we got it under control. By the way, you are rocking that cardigan sweater!” They’ll be shaking their head and wondering why they even bother trying to wreck your day.

3. Baffle Them with Bullshit – The absolute best answer is no answer at all. Like, ever. Debby wants to know why you don’t manage your office like Perfect Patty, or why the report you submitted was late. “Well, Debby do you remember the other day when Jimmy Buffet died, and we had that little gathering in the break room with cake? Oh, my bad, you weren’t invited. Ok, so the other day, Linda wanted to know how to re-attach a chain on her kid’s bike, but the internet was down so then we had to actually do a Pictionary kind of deal with diagrams and charts. It was a thing. Really took up the afternoon after the Buffet cake-episode. People cried and everything. So, it didn’t get the attention it deserved. But maybe we can discuss the effects of micro-managing over coffee where you stop bothering me about shit that doesn’t matter, and we can get on with the important stuff like life. Thanks.”

2. Thank Them for Their Interest in Your Life – They really don’t want the details of your life; they just want you to know they are hovering over you like an annoying housefly you can’t kill. So, give them want they want. Attention. Gratitude. And pile it on.  “Oh, thanks for asking, no I really don’t have time for that, but do you know what my baby did last night? She projectile vomited all over the bed! Such an ordeal. I have pictures, look! Vomit EVERYWHERE!”  or “The dog had diarrhea last night and pooped all over the main floor. We spent hours cleaning that up. Want to see the pictures? Jesus, it was so BAD.”  And ask if they want to participate, like, “My son is having a fundraiser for hockey, and we need volunteers to sit in the cold arena for four hours to sell tickets nobody wants for shit nobody needs. Can I put you down for Saturday morning?” They’ll be too busy to bother with your vomiting kids, incontinent pets, and hockey fundraisers. The. Best.

1. Be the Better Person – I know, it’s not easy taking the high road when someone just tried to drag you down to the dirt but there’s always a reason why a person is shitty. Bad day, bad week, bad life. Trauma plays a big part in how people treat others. You could be on the receiving end of their outrage even if it’s not entirely about you. You don’t have to take their rudeness, but you can choose to be the better person. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s not my problem. I’m sure we can figure this out, but you will need to tell me more on how I can help you.” Offering help is the one solution they were not counting on. They wanted to vent. Or they wanted to blame someone. Defend yourself, stand your ground but do it in a quiet gentle way. No need to retaliate with rudeness, retaliate with assistance. “You will need to stop being rude. I can help.” Or “If you approach me like that again, I will have to leave.” They don’t want you to leave, they want to pick a fight, or they want attention. Call attention to their rudeness, their abrasive words and turn it around. It may shock them into a more appropriate response. If not, you have every right to tell them to fuck-off and move on. Only after you’ve exhausted being nice and helping. The middle finger is reserved for those who are beyond reaching and who are too far gone to give your precious time.

I hope these tips come in handy the next time someone is being a shithead to you.

Stay kind. Be Positive. Drink Wine.

The End.

Tread Lightly and Carrie Underwood A Big Bat

Posted in Misguided Musings by

I’m finally feeling like I’m getting back to myself. For over a year, I was hobbling around with a cane. Existing with pain. Having to measure distances for walking and wondering if I would make it to my destination without ending up on a random sidewalk clamouring around on my hands and knees, destitute and begging for help. “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  

The day I was able to ditch my cane and walk unaided felt like a triumphant return from the abyss of dependence into which I was drowning. I needed someone to grocery shop with me since I couldn’t push the cart. I needed help getting shit off the shelves because it was either too heavy or I couldn’t stand and pull with one hand. I lumbered along slowly so if anyone was with me, we usually took double the time to do anything. Do you know how low toilet seats are? Yeah. They’re too low. Just sayin’.  I hated it. The only good thing was the return of chivalrous behaviour. Sometimes.

We old timers like a door opened for us every now and again, not slammed in our faces as we reach the doorway. Thanks. Not that the door was opened for me EVERY time, but more so than usual. I suppose looking like an old lady with a cane does make people a little more aware of how accessible things aren’t. Are not.  Nice try, though.  Ramps are few, automatic doors get broken and forget to be fixed, elevators are creepy as hell, (Hello. The Shining), and don’t get me started on the accessible parking spaces. I’ve wanted to butt those asshats out of the spots with the front of my car when I don’t see a permit. I think I shook my cane at an old guy in a truck who was taking a space waiting for wifey to get out of the store. Fuckhead.  Flashes of Carrie Underwood with a bat came barreling through my mind…

Me approaching the elevator from hell…

Walking from the car to the store, or to the mall was a chore.  I measured the distance to each store and if I had enough pain killers in me to make the trek. We take for granted the privilege of movement. We absent-mindedly walk around without thinking how we are getting there. How big is the doorway? How low are the chairs? How steep are the stairs? How many stairs? Is there a handrail? Are there icy conditions? Considerations most of us don’t have to think about. You get up and walk down the hall. You come back and sit down, or walk to another part of the house, mall, office.  You’re not planning your distances or measuring your pain levels.  You’re thinking the best way of getting from point A to point B.  So was I but with more variables.

I’m happy to say that’s behind me now. One hip replacement later, and I’m almost back to my pre-cane self. Fuck the chivalry, I can open my own door. Elevators still creep me out, so I take the stairs. People parking in accessible spots without permits still piss me off. I’m hoping Karma takes good care of them. I’m grateful I have a choice between elevators and stairs, parking spaces far away from the entrance, moving without having to consider how much it will hurt me; it’s a privilege many don’t have. I won’t complain about a distance I have to walk, or another push up I have to do in Bootcamp class. I’ll revel in my newfound freedom and independence.

And remain grateful for every step.  

Got a permit for that spot?!

The Hibernation of Summer

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It’s mid-August and I can feel the imminence of Fall.  It’s in the back-to-school supplies that are crowding every shelf at Walmart.  It’s in the woods jackets and plaid flannel shirts that are hanging on racks.  It’s in the now-dark 5 am mornings that greet me and the cooler evenings that now descend before 9pm.  Summer hasn’t yet arrived and here we are readying for another season.  I’m lamenting a summer I never had.  I’m still waiting for that everlasting full day of sunshine and sultry heat that stretches into a dusky evening.  I’m waiting for days full of water-balloon tossing and garden hose spraying and evenings of open-windows and flies eating me alive.  Where was all of that?

Quidi Vidi, Newfoundland

We missed an entire season.  It was a summer of spring-like days at best.  Cool winds, rain and almost hot-enough-but-not-quite temperatures.  We will be back to wearing coats and boots before I even broke out my shorts.  I don’t mean to complain, but this is why most people in St. John’s need a break and head to the liquor store.  Or try to find solace and heat either more west on the island or head south to anywhere else.  We know that soon enough, it will be a full-frontal assault into cold and ice.  We desperately cling to those final few evenings of near-warm-enough temperatures to steal away on the back patio for a fire and a glass of wine before the gale-force wind of 100kms/hrbegin to blow through.   It’s hard to go to work on a nice day knowing that when we are on a treasured day off, the wind will howl and the rain will pelt our faces so hard we feel the sting for a week.  We flee the office building in the midst of theevaporating sunshine holding our faces skyward in hopes to feel the last of the rays beat upon our skin and feel some semblance of warmth.  We shed the office pallor for some fresh air and bright light, not the fluorescent kind.  

Sometimes, we get lucky.

Today, the wind is high but the air is warm.  I’m hoping to retreat to my back patio for a little sun before the clouds elbow their way through the sky, squeezing it behind their billowing puffs of air.  If the sun can manage to appear in our sky a few more times, I will be grateful for that.  

Right now, I’m grateful for the liquor store’s cache of wine…

 

I’m Going To Need a Shirt And My Lotion

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The wind is blowing a gale today and I’m feeling a little disheveled.  My book is up and out and I’m now grappling with the idea that there are actual people out there in the great wide world who are reading my words.  In a book.  I wrote.  I shake my head and try not to gauge reactions and try not to have thoughts of, “I wonder what they thought when this happened.”  

Instead of obsessing on things I can’t control, I’m choosing to play with my dog and post random shit that I think will entertain the masses as much as it does me.  You. Are. Welcome.

I’ve also been given the opportunity to observe the strange and irksome occurrences around me on a daily basis that keeps my mind busy and cause me to walk into arbitrary walls.  On purpose.   Here are a few:

Old People Driving – I am NOT the old person I am referring to.  I was cut off on the highway merge ramp today, by an ‘old’ lady driving her Honda CRV at 60kms an hour who refused to go the obligatory 100kms an hour, almost causing an accident and causing me to swear profusely.  Fun, wha?

No Shirt Sheila – Unfortunately, I was not privy to the shirtless woman wandering aimlessly around the mall, yesterday in her bra with a sweater tied around her waist whilst yelling into her phone, “I NEED MY LOTION BACK!” however, my niece and her daughters, and my daughter were witnesses to this craziness.  Sad I missed it.  And Gaawwddd Debby, give her the lotion BACK!

Irate complainers who complain about complaining – It’s a thing!  I love it!  No, really tell me more about how I piss you off when I fucking swear all of the fucking time, Goddammit.  I love you, tho.

On a positive note, puppies are in the world so, there’s that.