Thursday, June 21, 2012

Mommy's feeling crazy right now...

Do you ever feel like you want to crawl into a hole, any hole, even if it's filled with angry carpenter ants, just to hide from your kids?  Are you guilty of locking yourself in the bathroom and sitting in an empty bathtub, just to get five seconds of silence?  Have you found yourself bringing beer (or perhaps something stronger) in a metal travel mug to their soccer games?  Did you spend any time last week crying on your kitchen floor because they're JUST SO GODDAMN DIFFICULT THAT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL TO DO ANYMORE?!?!

If your answer to any of the above is "yes", then congratulations, my humble opinion you are 100% normal.  If you answered "no", you are either a) NOT a momma; b) you are a very NEW momma; or c) you spend most of your life drunk and oblivious.

Again - just my humble opinion.

So the reason behind this post, is my 5-year-old son.  My sweet, loving, adorably handsome, brilliant little boy.  I love that kid more than words could ever describe.  I am guilty of making him promise me that he will always love me more than he loves his wife.  Shawn says I'm traumatizing him by doing this.  I don't care.  He's my baby boy, and dammit, he always will be.

And sometimes?  He is a giant shit.

Lately, it's been especially bad.  It's hard sometimes to really pinpoint exactly what it is he does that makes me so crazy, but it's mostly just general behavioral and lack of respect issues, and it is constant.  I will ask him to do something non-negotiable, such as brush his teeth before school; he will argue with me over it (little side note here, NOTHING pisses me off more than having something like that argued.  You do not have a choice in this.  Brushing your teeth before school is mandatory and it is a battle you will never win.  So why, oh why, are you fighting me on it?!?!)  I will try to hug him; he will punch me in the arm and giggle.  I will send him for a time out; he will stick his tongue out at me, or make this spitting motion and sound without actually spitting at me.  And this one is a teeny-tiny bit funny now, but at the time it sure wasn't: last week after soccer, he came into the house, stripped down to nothing but his shin pads and soccer socks, and started shakin' his thang in the front window.  WHO DOES THAT!?!?  Seriously!!!  WTF??

And what's especially frustrating is that this kid is the textbook definition of a perfect student when he is at school.  I had one teacher tell me she wishes she "had a classroom full of AJ's."  Another informed me that he is the role model for the other students in the class.  And it needs to be noted that these comments are not one-off's - I get this A LOT.  Eventually, instead of making me happy and proud, like they did in the beginning, these comments from his teachers and coaches actually started to really piss me off.  WHO is this kid?  And WHY do I never, ever get to have him?  Why do they get this perfect child, and I get someone who I am constantly fighting with?  He pulls shit with me that he would never even dream of doing with his teachers, the principal, his coaches, his grandparents, and so on.  Everybody else gets this model child, and I get a brat - all. the. time.

I've taken away his Wii and iPad privileges.  He doesn't care.

I've taken away his special blanket.  He doesn't care.

I made him sit out the first five minutes of his soccer game yesterday.  He still got to play after that, so he doesn't care.

I've made him stay in his room alone for hours on end while Mackenzie and I enjoy some fun activity.  Say it with me now - He. Doesn't. Care.

We started a reward system using uncooked pasta noodles (25 noodles and they get a prize).  Mackenzie has 21.  AJ has 3.  He keeps losing them, thanks to his craptastic behavior.  And yep, you guessed it - he doesn't care.

I'm out of ideas, I'm at a loss, and I'm really, really f***ing frustrated (hence the crying fit in my kitchen last Wednesday.  It wasn't pretty, and if there was ever a time I felt like I had no right to be a mother, it was that moment.)  I know he understands.  I know he's aware of how he's behaving.  I know that he knows how to behave appropriately, because he does it at school and with his sports teams.  He understands right from wrong and he knows damn well what he's doing.

He just refuses to exhibit any sort of appropriate behavior when he is with me.  And my patience with him is totally gone.  I'm not proud of this, and frankly it's embarrassing to have no idea what to do with your own child.  But it's the truth.  I am starting to feel like I might actually be losing my freaking mind.

I was chatting with my friend V about it this morning.  Her kids are young too and she understands.  She had a great piece of advice: whenever you're feeling that mad at him, and you're still mad when he goes to bed, make sure you go back in  his room at some point and watch him sleep.

Tonight?  It kinda worked.

Tomorrow's a new day...

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