Oh it is getting cold here now. I thought it was a nightmare when I woke up this morning and realized that I had to get out of bed. It was so warm and cozy in bed, wearing my nice new pyjamas that I bought Saturday. I know, me in a pyjamas! Unheard of. I always feel so claustrophobic in pyjamas or like a stuffed sausage. Always wearing nightgown instead. But Polarn’ and Pyret, was having 20% off on their clothes Saturday and I fell in love with the pyjamas trousers. Typical that they did not have the size I wanted for comfort then. I bought a navy T-shirt for them and a not comfortable size, hoping that some shop would have my size. Easier said than done. The only shop having it, was in downtown Malmö and no way I can drive in there and park, with a Toyota Hiace. E. volunteered to go down there after school, exchanging the smaller size to a bigger one, since her gymnasium card lets her travel all over the province for free, before 20:00. Very nice of her!
So last night, I was able to go to bed wearing my pyjamas and keep the furry blanket off me, that I have covered up with in the past week. This morning, I noticed “Gubby” snuggling up to me completely covered up by his duvet and I hated to wake him by climbing out of bed and then head out on the cold floor, to turn the light on in ” Boo’s” and “Cookie’s” room. I added a wool cardigan and wool socks to my outfit, and felt semi-ready to face the morning. Much better to be dressed this way than wearing the fluffy furry fleece robe. It doesn’t breathe, so even though you are cold, you sweat.
I started to search for clothes for my three sons, intermittently walking down the hallway telling “Cookie” to get out of bed. I turned on the light at 06:45 as usual. “Boo” got out of bed right away. At 07:00 she sat up on her pillow. At 07:15 she had got to the end of the bed, still sitting on the mattress. I can not tell what a hell that child makes my life in to. Every morning it is the same thing. I have to go down there over and over and over again, nagging for her to get out of bed and she does not stir a fin. And when she does, it is all in a slow motion, slower than a slug fashion. Why should I have to tell a person who knows that she has to get out of bed, to get out of bed, get dressed and get out the door? She is now 14 years old and she makes my blood boil every morning, almost giving me a coronary. She prepares nothing the night before, she walks around searching for things every single morning and for some reason, the clock ticking, does not get to her at all. She has no sense of time and I think it is ghastly that I have to send “Boo” off himself to the bus station at 07:30 and she not leaving until 07:40 when the bus leaves at 07:48. How can anyone in their right mind enjoy having to run like a lunatic to the bus every morning? She never ever has the time to eat breakfast because she doesn’t get out of bed and when she takes a fruit to bring with her, I find it on the sofa bench in the hallway, when I turn off the hallway light! So till lunch, she has nothing in her stomach! She is a holy nightmare and I strongly have started to suspect that she has ADD or is in the Autism Spectrum somewhere. Why would she not be, when almost all the others are? She has no memory, she can not plan anything, she doesn’t understand things, she doesn’t pay attention to important information, doesn’t understand to write it down or remember it, she is overly anxious about everything and she has terrible, terrible OCD.
She was not my only problem this morning. I started to iron very nice things, I thought. “Boo’s” grey US flag T-shirt has suddenly surfaced after some months disappearance and he wanted to wear it with his camouflage trousers. It took me ten minutes to sort through the clean laundry to find those. While doing that, I found “Kitty’s” really nice petrol coloured T-shirt from Polarn’ and Pyret, which is really his colour. He looks great in it. Sad that he does not agree. Out in the kitchen, I ironed while “Boo” had his breakfast behind me, us both listening to my iPod sitting in the docking station. The day after Halloween, I started to listen to Christmas music. T. asked me Saturday, “why”? Well, I hate November. November and January are the worse two months of the year. November is dark, boring, cold, wet, grey and rainy. Life feels hopeless in November. But if I play Michael Boublé’s Christmas record and all other Christmas songs I have on my iPod, as often as I can, I KNOW that there will be an end to this month, that there is hope. And when this month is over, wonderful December will start when it is legit to listen to the songs.
So, there I am in the kitchen, finishing today’s ironing. And “Kitty” who gets up super early to watch the children’s programs and eat what he wants for breakfast without comments, comes out and tries to put on “Boo’s” T-shirt! Just because he wanted to wear it. “Boo” started to scream. I told “Kitty” to take it off immediately and put on the T-shirt I had ironed for him. He screamed no. He did take off the one, but didn’t put on the other one. He threw a wrinkled, old Angry Birds T-shirt at me instead, which is from H&M, bad quality, nightmare to iron since the seams no longer sit where they should sit, but have gone twisted and I told him, forget it. I was done ironing HIS clothes. I was working on “Gubby’s” jeans and then I was finished. I had his sister to order out of bed.
“Kitty” stormed out of the kitchen and put on the wrinkled T-shirt. By now, D. had come down to rip the T-shirt off “Kitty”. He confiscated the T-shirt and went back to bed. I headed down the hallway to notice that “Cookie” was standing combing her hair in Victorian fashion, SLOWLY, clad in nightgown and it was 07:25. And “Gubby” had pulled out his duvet on the living room floor, trying to roll himself in to it. While Michael Boublé happily was singing away in the kitchen. By now, “Kitty” had stomped down the hallway and up the stairs so I thought they would come down. I swear, one day they will. D. tripped one night and pulled down the handle that runs along the stairwell! So, the stairs might give in, as many of my children who stomps up those stairs as hard as they can. I had to scream for him to come back down and then call T. on the train to Helsingborg and tell him to order “Kitty” to put the T-shirt on and for “Cookie” to get a move on. I put on the loudspeaker since they refuse to talk to him and he just laughed! I wish I could see the humour in this mental hospital! Michael Boublé blaring away “It’s a holly, jolly Christmas”, “Kitty” looking like a thunder-cloud and screaming that he doesn’t want to wear things that I pick out, “Cookie” swearing under her breath, “Gubby” sitting drawing on the sofa in my notebook and “Boo” putting on one green sock and one black one. Great choice “Boo”!
“Kitty” stormed off in just a hoodie, no jacket and I said a prayer with “Boo”. 07:42, I angrily told “Cookie”, “how nice it must be, to be so important that the bus waits for you!”. I am sorry, I had just had too much. I found her banana on the sofa bench when turning off the light. “Gubby” had got dressed with the “clothing race” on the TV and was sitting watching “Shaun the Sheep”, so I went to make his porridge, only to discover that T. had not got me any protein bars=no breakfast and no morning walk, since I don’t have any energy to walk on without breakfast. I can not describe how unfair I felt my life to be and how sick and tired of things I am.
Good thing the post came early today, actually before I went to fetch “Gubby” at pre-school 12:10. I received a beautiful Thanksgiving card from my penfriend C. and it was just so nice receiving that today of all days. We don’t have Thanksgiving in Sweden and hers is earlier than the US one, since she lives in Canada. But it is SO nice receiving something apart from bills in the post and a handmade card, really shows care! Things got better yet. When I fetched “Gubby” ten minutes later, I found the cutest little drawing, in his rucksack. I had to go back and ask his teacher if he actually made it himself or if he had got another child’s drawing by mistake. No, it was his. He might be autistic, and not up to snuff. But his development is going forward. It makes me so happy to see his drawings developing, in particular! Here is his version of …
“Sponge Bob Squarepants”! Someone he loves very much!!! Sorry it is difficult to see the yellow but the feet are attached to yellow legs and the hands are attached to yellow arms. He has all the colours right! 🙂