WARNING: RAW POST with CURSING

Oh my God.  What I am about to write may upset some.  If I don’t put it somewhere, I am going to put it where it is directed and if I do that, I’ll be a bad, bad person. 

So many people comment on my patience.  They say I have a lot of patience.  They say they admire the challenges I deal with when it comes to the boys.  They say that the things I feel sometimes are normal for motherhood. 

If this is normal, I’d rather be fucking insane.  I feel insane.  I feel irrational.  I don’t know if I want to yell or cry or punish or walk away or just fucking pretend that everything is great and hope that things improve.  But none of those things is an acceptable option and tonight I am furious, fed up and OUT of patience. 

The Professor has pushed some buttons that just can’t be diffused with apologies and I am so fucking fed up.  Yesterday, TWO DAYS after his birthday – during which he got a shit load of presents from his friends, and a good chunk of money spent on a party for HIM — I had to go food shopping.  Food shopping is always hard with the boys because like most kids, they want everything, but this time, I didn’t have a list and I really needed to think to recall the contents of my cabinets.  But The Professor whined about having to go, then whined when he was told that my budget didn’t include pickles or pistachio pudding, then whined when I told him to stop asking for things.  Then, to my disbelief, he engaged The Gremlin in a RACE in the aisles of the store causing a rolling shelf to roll across the floor.  So I took him to the front of the store, and sat him in a chair and told him to stay there until I finished my shopping. 

And The Gremlin was wired and fired so of course, as soon as the racing begins, so does the aggressive sensory seeking behavior.  So he hit The Professor.  I would have dealt with The Gremlin if The Professor hadn’t lost his god forsaken mind, but what do you think The Professor did as soon as his brother touched him? Oh yes, he starts screaming like someone chopped his fucking ear off.  IN FRONT OF A TON OF PEOPLE.  So I walked away from him.  And I forgot all about the misdeed of my youngest because my oldest was acting so out of control and it seriously just slipped my mind. 

I finished up my shopping and gravely checked out, utterly humiliated with the things that had just taken place.  So I went to bag up my groceries and The Professor is LAYING on the floor where he was supposed to be sitting, repeating over and over again that it wasn’t fair that he had to sit when his brother hit him and wasn’t sitting.  The Gremlin is 3 years old and cannot be left in the front of the store solo.  Besides, my 9 year old should certainly know better than to behave the way he had, spur racing in the store or mouth back at me.  So yes, he sat and The Gremlin didn’t.  I truly feel that The Professor instigates and encourages out of control behavior from The Gremlin, then sits back and enjoys the chaotic results and I am so fucking tired of it! I love him, I do, but is it wrong to expect better behavior from him than from a 3 year old?!?!?

So anyway, he runs his mouth while I am packing up about how mean and horrible I am.  Old people are watching thinking he is a spoiled brat – which by the way, he was acting like, quite efficiently – and I finally got sick of it.  I told him to get up 3 times and when he finally got up he looked at me and said "THERE. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"

So I raised my hand to him.  And he screamed "Your ABUSING me! Your going to ABUSE me!!" 

Patience gone.

I said nothing.  I packed up, calmly informed him that it was time to leave and came home.  I told him to do his homework and he ran his fucking mouth.  I told him to eat his dinner and he ran his fucking mouth.  So I revoked his speaking privileges and all electronic entertainment and sent him to bed 2 hours early. 

The boy is lucky he didn’t find out what abuse was. 

Then today, I go on this field trip with his class as he has been begging me to do, I join his class after the field trip for some fun in the classroom, and then he comes home with me.  All I asked him to do was clean his fucking room and the chaos ensues.  He doesn’t clean his room, can’t seem to manage to put his laundry in the hamper and when I caught him playing instead of cleaning and comment that I am not stupid when he tries to lie to me, he says "Yes. You are stupid."

Electronic entertainment, fun, joy, happiness, speech privileges – GONE.

And he runs his mouth some more.  So I take it for another day. And he runs his mouth some more while screaming like a little girl.  Gone for another day.  This continued for at least 2 hours.  I am exhausted and furious and I swear to all I know and love, this child is cruising for it. 

What does this kid want from me?  He only has FUCKING EVERYTHING.  He doesn’t lack my time, my energy, my cash.  He isn’t ever hungry or cold or unclothed! I feel like when I am nice to him, he shits on me! But when I stay hard and Hitler like, he is miserable.  There simply isn’t any middle ground here.  Something as simple as letting him watch 30 minutes of television is an invitation for him to act the fuck up when that 30 minutes is up.  Everything I do has to be so carefully thought out and planned because I have to be ready for him to stomp all over any stone of kindness I lay down. 

And his baby brother follows his example.  Oh shit.  So I am being tagged teamed by two extremely smart children and baited into arguing and fighting and yelling and threatening and finally, raising my hand to my child, which in this case was wrong, because he thought I was going to hit him in the face, which I would never do but the point is, he thought I was going to.  Should he have believed I wouldn’t?  Is it a bad sign that my kid cowered like I was going to actually hit him when I gestured, or is it just a dramatic 9 year old thing?

Two days with Mr. Mouth and I’ve had enough.  He lost everything tonight because he HAD to have the last word.  HAD TO.  He couldn’t stop.  But I doubt he’ll learn a thing from it.  He never seems to.  He just does his bid and is good until the next time he decides I am being unfair or unjust or not giving enough or until he needs a friggin’ punching bag.

THIS is why some animals eat their fucking young.  I am so fucking pissed off.  Ugh.  Is it wrong to not like my child right now?  Would you be as angry and frustrated as I am right now?