...this is all part of the normal routine. The "What's Unusal" here is that I'm actually sharing this stuff with an audience.
> Let me get this straight (well, as straight as
> like me can ever get anything). Your ex wanted you
> become a born again Christian when he himself was a
> Satanist? (Which is the only explanation I can think
> of.) I take it he wasn't a normal church of Satan
> Laveyan either.
Dead-on. Evidently he vacillated between Satanist and
Not-Satanist during his high school years, and the
times when he was most active in attempting to recruit
for his Christian church, he was evidently Satanic.
Which, combined with the rest of him, leads to the
very strong conclusion that he was just NUTS.
He did, however, eventually learn how to accept "No"
for an answer when he invited people to come with him
to his church on Sunday. He asked me one too many
times after I'd already declined, so I took the
counter-argument to direct ad hominem, then retrieved
all the pieces of his glasses, handed them to him, and
stomped off. He chilled out a bit after that.
It looks like the Little Fayoumis is growing into his first set of real feathers. I love chicks when they're at that stage. They're first starting to realize that they're becoming grown-ups, but they're still very much chicks, but they're not helpless anymore, even though they do still huddle under Mommy's wings, and they'd have a hard time without her.
He had a neighbor kid come over the other day. This kid hasn't earned a nickname yet. But he came over again this morning, and will be back after lunch. Yay!
Bagged the beef jerky.
Vacuumed the entire house.
Made knee-melting guacamole.
The little friend asked if they could play on the PS2. Rather, he had the Little Fayoumis ask. I gave them an hour, and cautioned them that they were not to fight, or they'd immediately be done.
I can tell that I'm going to need to tune my ears for the distinctive sounds of kids-getting-along-loudly vs. kids-fighting.
FatherSir was not good at that. I am determined to do better.
Have had to pop out and remind them to chill out, it's a game.
Also had to tell Little_Fayoumis.friend to please not say "stupid", as that was a cuss word in this house.
Of course, not two minutes later, Little Fayoumis said "stupid" about something, and his friend quoted my exact words back to him...
"Unbelievable! She said no!" --Little Fayoumis, returning to his friends with the results of the request
I said no to the request for the other kids to play Playstation. Little Fayoumis was done with his turn for the day, and it doesn't really seem fair to me to have the other two playing while LF can't.
I'll ask the others for their ruling on it, but I suspect that my guess was along the same lines as theirs would be.
They live across the way and about two doors down. There are now the sounds of a small and happy riot in the living room. I'm mostly staying out of harm's way, with a keen ear fixed on things.
The current game sounds like it's some arcane form of keepaway/pillowfight/tag.
I just changed the format, if not the nature, of the game, by blowing up three balloons.
There is ducking, and tossing, and clobbering, and rather a lot of giggling.
Well, that was ... interesting. The game was abruptly over, and the Little Fayoumis was having a hard time getting his mind around that. So he kept up with the pillowfight, even though they were not happy about this. I emerged, and to the "He was hitting me!" and the Little Fayoumis storming off in a black-and-red-boiling sulk/pout, sent him to the corner with very little in the way of more questions asked. (Had he not been, he would have immediately said, "Was not!"; he's very good these days about not lying and accepting responsiblity... at least around me...) Wailing ensued, and the other kids took their cue and went home.
Wailing continued. After it was over, I asked him was he done in the corner? He was, and went quietly and sat down on the couch.
Had a quiet and non-accusatory chat about how it is when people are done with games. Basically, it is fun playing a game, and then you get tired of the game and you don't want to play anymore. And other people are having fun playing a game, and then they get tired of the game and they don't want to play anymore. And it is frustrating when you want to play the game and they don't.
Then we digressed off into how different people like different games. I brought up how he liked Playstation games and I did not. "But you play games with Darkside."
I allowed how that was so, and made it rather plain that Darkside, and not the game, was the factor in me playing it. Mentioned that we have some of those same games at home, and I don't play them here at home, but only with Darkside.
Then we played with balloons. I'd blown up the balloons for all the kids earlier (they took theirs home) and I decided to show the Little Fayoumis some of the cool things with balloons. We blew them up and then let them go like a rocket. It was a delightfully fun time. I explained the relevant Law ("For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.") and how the air zooming out of the back of the balloon made the balloon zoom forward. There was much giggling as the balloon zoomed around the living room time and time again. He tried to blow it up himself; he failed. I did it some more. He tried again, and this time he did well at it, after some coaching. You have to pinch the balloon closed when you're taking another breath...
I blew up the balloon really big, and LF had me aim it straight at the ceiling. The textured ceiling. The textured ceiling with little pointy bits.
The predictable happened, and we, ears ringing, picked up the fragments of rubber and dumped them in the trash.
That was enough with balloons for the day, but we had fun. "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."
Kids and names.
Little Fayoumis has been called by at least two names that aren't even remotely his. He's been correcting as they go.
Right now they're having fun in the West bedroom. I pointed out the areas that are strictly off-limits (the top of this table, the top of that dresser). "Does the turtle bite?" "Do the fish bite?" "Can I pet the turtle?"
The game at the moment seems to be the tossing of stuffed animals and pillows up to the top bunk, and down from same.
Cleaned cat boxes. I already mentioned the vacuuming, the dishes, the putting away dishes, and the straightening of living room, right?
I took out garbage, too, and now I've put the light bulbs in a plastic box to go in the closet, so they won't have to sit out where they might or might not get broken. I shifted the nail polish from the box to that one bag so the box can be clear for the bulbs.
OK, it sounds like a normal "You made a mistake: these are the rules" transaction.
As you were.
Floor still needs to get mopped. But that's not on my chore list.
OK, that's done with for the day.
Little neighbor monsterlings are headed home.
I think I would deal better with all five or six year olds than the little sister.
...will be accomplished with more thoroughness in the evening.
Basically, I'm going to be making little happy pies, for the taking to school and microwaving.
First batch is going to be beef & potato. Next batch: probably meat, sauce, and cheese.
Meatloaf? Inna crust?
Going to hit bed and have my worries soothed as the presence I know and adore sits next to me, allows me to remain close, and makes all my worries seem illogical, or at least makes worrying about them seem illogical.
K. wonders if he's not got a bit of the ass-burger-ish nature about him, as she's known those with, and sees familiar things in my descriptions.
Something more to think on.
Glass masks, I say. Learned masks, never put down, that have now become transparent to me.
It feels, both of a sudden and as always, like neither of us do well when I shield us from each other. How did I get Assigned him? How did he get Assigned me? I don't believe that it would be for short-term at this point in the game.