0 comment Saturday, May 10, 2014 | admin
Things have not been so good. Son takes every opportunity he can to go into a mood or a rage and when he hasn't seen an opportunity, he'll make one up.
Take Thursday for instance. We were going for tea at my Brother's house, who lives ten minutes away. Son was in a good mood. Both kids were. The T-shirt Son wanted to wear was still in the wash. He asked if I could wash and dry it so he could wear it to his Uncle's house. I did try but I couldn't get it dry in time. Queue screeeeaaaaming in his room. I went in to speak to him twice. Once to ask him if this was about the T-shirt or if something else was upsetting him. A hug was offered too. No good. I got screamed at. I tried again several minutes later, this time informing him matter-of-factly that he had one minute to get dressed or I would take him as he was. We were going to my Brother's for tea, I said, it was his birthday.
He moaned on the drive over, but I thought he came out of his mood just as we got there. We were chatting about the helicopter in the sky overhead and waving at it. Over and done with, I thought. Wrong. He spent the next hour being rude to my parents and my brother, swore, burped, had attitude towards me and finally settled behind an armchair where he rejected anyone's attempts at kindness towards him. After he'd been quiet for a while I went to see him and quietly asked if he wanted to come out. No, he said. I told him that when he was ready to come out, he was welcome. He came out a few minutes later, pretending he had tummyache and That's why he had refused any food.
My own family have never seen him when gone he's off on one before. They have now.
Friday, pick-up from school. He was fine, he said, as we waited for his Sister to come out of class. He was friends with everyone and had had a nice day. He seemed in a good mood.
We got outside the school gates and he accused his Sister of calling him 'dumb. She denied it and I hadn't heard anything, so I said oh come on, it's a lovely day, let's all just get along.
His Sister raced him to the car and beat him, so he smashed his elbow into her neck. I caught up with them and tackled him on it. He was all attitude, I don't care, what you gonna do about it? I didn't do anything, so, do I care?
We start the journey home in the car, he starts talking about how a friend at school has taught him to stand up for himself, and that he didn't need his family anymore because he had his friend. I try to engage him about it, but before I know where we are he is threatening to kill himself again. He's going to get a plastic bag when we get home and suffocate himself, he says, and he's gonna get a knife or something, and HE'S JUST GOING TO DIE!!!
He's frightening. His voice is full of loathing and hate. I think, I can't take him home and deal with him alone again.
So I start to drive to Mum and Dad's, and then I get halfway there and I decide not to do that. There is just that tiny bit of doubt about the support I would get. How weak I would look in front of them. Unable to cope. And how I might frighten them and they are elderly and not very well. So I don't do it. Instead I drive up and down the motorway for an hour until we can go and pick my Husband up from work.
All the while my kids switch between demonstrating how they absolutely don't care that they are not going home and desperately trying to find out where the hell are we going???
By the time we get home I can't speak and just go to bed. That night my Husband cops it from Son and at one point Son attacks him, telling him he's going to kill him.
Son's OK again until Sunday night when he gets an attitude again, calls his Dad idiot several times and calmly destroys the nice little notes of love I had put up on his wall.
This is pretty much what it's like these days.
Take Thursday for instance. We were going for tea at my Brother's house, who lives ten minutes away. Son was in a good mood. Both kids were. The T-shirt Son wanted to wear was still in the wash. He asked if I could wash and dry it so he could wear it to his Uncle's house. I did try but I couldn't get it dry in time. Queue screeeeaaaaming in his room. I went in to speak to him twice. Once to ask him if this was about the T-shirt or if something else was upsetting him. A hug was offered too. No good. I got screamed at. I tried again several minutes later, this time informing him matter-of-factly that he had one minute to get dressed or I would take him as he was. We were going to my Brother's for tea, I said, it was his birthday.
He moaned on the drive over, but I thought he came out of his mood just as we got there. We were chatting about the helicopter in the sky overhead and waving at it. Over and done with, I thought. Wrong. He spent the next hour being rude to my parents and my brother, swore, burped, had attitude towards me and finally settled behind an armchair where he rejected anyone's attempts at kindness towards him. After he'd been quiet for a while I went to see him and quietly asked if he wanted to come out. No, he said. I told him that when he was ready to come out, he was welcome. He came out a few minutes later, pretending he had tummyache and That's why he had refused any food.
My own family have never seen him when gone he's off on one before. They have now.
Friday, pick-up from school. He was fine, he said, as we waited for his Sister to come out of class. He was friends with everyone and had had a nice day. He seemed in a good mood.
We got outside the school gates and he accused his Sister of calling him 'dumb. She denied it and I hadn't heard anything, so I said oh come on, it's a lovely day, let's all just get along.
His Sister raced him to the car and beat him, so he smashed his elbow into her neck. I caught up with them and tackled him on it. He was all attitude, I don't care, what you gonna do about it? I didn't do anything, so, do I care?
We start the journey home in the car, he starts talking about how a friend at school has taught him to stand up for himself, and that he didn't need his family anymore because he had his friend. I try to engage him about it, but before I know where we are he is threatening to kill himself again. He's going to get a plastic bag when we get home and suffocate himself, he says, and he's gonna get a knife or something, and HE'S JUST GOING TO DIE!!!
He's frightening. His voice is full of loathing and hate. I think, I can't take him home and deal with him alone again.
So I start to drive to Mum and Dad's, and then I get halfway there and I decide not to do that. There is just that tiny bit of doubt about the support I would get. How weak I would look in front of them. Unable to cope. And how I might frighten them and they are elderly and not very well. So I don't do it. Instead I drive up and down the motorway for an hour until we can go and pick my Husband up from work.
All the while my kids switch between demonstrating how they absolutely don't care that they are not going home and desperately trying to find out where the hell are we going???
By the time we get home I can't speak and just go to bed. That night my Husband cops it from Son and at one point Son attacks him, telling him he's going to kill him.
Son's OK again until Sunday night when he gets an attitude again, calls his Dad idiot several times and calmly destroys the nice little notes of love I had put up on his wall.
This is pretty much what it's like these days.
Labels: Adoption, Friends And Family