I'm not in a good mood. It goes beyond grumpy or "out of sorts". I'm frustrated, sad, angry and confused all rolled up into one big rock sitting in my gut. It is not a pleasant feeling. I can't count how many times I have cried today or wanted to run home, throw my head under the covers and not come out til spring. But somebody has to be the grown-up and as much as my almost 10 year old would like to be...it ain't him.
I don't know how much more I can take on. I know that God won't give more than we can handle but I feel like I am about at my breaking point. I remember this game I played as a kid called "Break the Camel's Back" where you put straws into the saddle bags on this camel and when it got to be too many, then the camel would collapse and whoever was the last one to put a straw in was the loser. I feel like the camel and my knees are starting to buckle.
Why?
BB is giving me attitude, disrespect and complete defiance. I'm tired of telling him to do something and having him say back to me "I don't have to." I know, I know, I know that he is just trying to push my buttons. Well, it's working. My buttons are pushed full ON. He wants a fight. He wants me mad so he can push back. I did lose my cool last night. I picked him up a couple of times and carried him to his room, telling him to go to bed. He would just march right out. Then he would turn the light on, while his brothers were trying to sleep. He would wrap his legs around the chair. He would grip the door frame with his fingers. At one point, he swung out and hit me in the jaw. I don't know at this point if he meant to punch me. His fist was closed. I have a bruise. But more than the mark on my face, it's the bruise in my heart. Finally, I told him to sleep downstairs on the couch. I refrained from saying "And just get out of my face."
This morning, the surly mood continued. I wanted him to take his medicine. He refused. I tried to sit him up, and he would slump down. I brought him milk. I did all the things I could think of, all the things he said he prefers for taking his medicine and still he refused. At this point, the dam broke. Tears filled my eyes and I said, "Look at me. Is this what you want? To make me hurt, to make me cry? Because you have. Do you think it makes you tough to beat up on your mom? Is this the kind of man you want to grow up to be? A man who bullies people into getting what you want, who beats them up to get what you need? You think about that."
He was very quiet on the drive over to school. And I continued to wipe away the tears, occasionally bumping the tender spot on my face that reminds me that things are way out of control. And I don't know how to get it back.
And if this isn't enough, PH needs to have an upper GI done next week and then see a Gastroenterologist to see if we can figure out why he continues to regurgitate and throw up. I have watched him, when he doesn't know. It is happening far more frequently than I realized. The thing of it is, he doesn't complain. But I think he does suffer. He just takes it quietly. But then with a noisy, out of control brother like BB, maybe he realizes he won't be heard. Or I am also suspecting that he has a high pain tolerance and just doesn't cry until things are really, really bad.
I have had several migraines this week. Like I needed that too. Add on to it managing a household, Mount St. Laundry that continues to grow on a daily basis, checking backpacks for homework, cooking, cleaning...and then simply just being. All of these are straws being dumped into my saddle bag... plunk, plunk, plunk.
No comments:
Post a Comment