Well, he made it to almost 8 years old and he just about lost his life a few days ago. There have been times in my parental life that I have seen parallels with my own childhood relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. This would be one of them. Let me explain.
I had to go to occupational therapy a few days ago to continue working on strengthening/stretching my injured finger out. Because of Tom's work schedule, I had to take all three of the kids with me. I bought them McD's before we went so their stomachs would be full and hopefully their mouths shut. They each had something to do during my 1 hour session - Jake was to be working on a book report, Olivia had Math homework (yes, homeschooled kids have homework too) and Gabi, well, I just locked her in the stroller hoping she wouldn't jump out. They all had explicit instructions to keep their mouths shut and work on the projects they had been given. I had no such luck. I would have to say that Olivia was the best. She actually finished the assignment she was given and didn't do to much talking - a feat for her. Gabi came in second place even though she threw her toys about ten times and it was very difficult to retrieve them when ones hand is in the hand of the therapists'. I had to excuse my hand several times to pick up whatever she had launched. And Jake, well, let me put it this way, if I had 10 cents for each time I had to look at him with the "you better knock it off" look, I would be a millionaire. I would have to say that this would have been one of the most embarrassing moments that I have had with my son. Jake has always been a button pusher. He has always tested his limits just to see how far he can push. I have always met those challenges and gently reminded him of his boundaries. For as long as I can remember, he has been satisfied at my retorts and backed down - except for today. He just pushed and pushed and pushed. I tried my best to remind him that he was crossing the line each time my therapist stepped out of the room. He didn't care. At one point, I kicked him under the table because his mouth was getting a little to fresh. He slammed his hands down on the table, stood up and got in my face saying, "What'd you do that for??". I had no other choice but to let him have it , verbally this is, in front of my therapist. I just wasn't pretty. Several times I had to tell him to "shut up". I never use that term with my kids as I feel it is verbally degrading but that is how far he pushed me. When we finally got out of there, I was ready to blow up. I kept my cool recognizing that my ego had been seriously bruised. I got home, sent him to his room, got Gabi down for a nap, Olivia in quite time, took a few deep breaths and went to confront my son. It started out calm and then I just couldn't hold back the tears. I was so hurt, so embarrassed, so angry. I let the tears flow. I wanted him to see what he had done to me by treating me so disrespectfully. I think he was a little surprised. I pointed out that we had always had a good enough relationship that ever since he was two years old, I could look at him across the table and have that "you better knock it off" look and he would respect that and settle down. And that today, was the first time ever, that he just continued to run past that line ignoring any hints of disrespect. I called Tom, he was in Seattle, WA, in tears. He was hanging out with one of my lifelong friends doing my bidding at Pike's Place Market in downtown Seattle. I have never called him before that upset. I hysterically recounted the days events - he asked to speak with Jake and I gladly handed the phone over. After that, I think it sunk into my son's thick skull how far he had pushed me.
Even though Tom was to be home the next day, Jake spent the next 24 hours dreading his father's homecoming. I have come to the conclusion that when the kids get that far out of hand, that waiting until Tom comes home to have just punishment served, is fine with me. Even if that means 2-3 days after the incident.
And you ask how this parallels with my own childhood. Oh, baby, if you could have been a fly on the wall during those teenage years with my mom. I had called my mom expecting some sympathy and support, which she did give in some manner, but I think she was also brought back to a time when she had felt those exact same emotions. As I had felt, that is. I think that when we have kids that our parents are secretly hoping that we end up with kids that are exactly like us. I mean, how else would parenting be justified if we couldn't get revenge on our own kids later in life. Apparently, I was just a little lippy when I was younger. So lippy, in fact, that I brought my mom to tears on several occasions. I know how it feels now and I ain't pretty. I'm sorry mom. I never should have hurt or disrespected you that way. I was just a kid and never imagined what kind of impact that would have on you as a person or my main "parental figure". I've been there now, I know how it feels and would never wish that on anyone. I'm sorry.
2 comments:
Our parents' secret wish & our biggest fear is that our kids will have our attitude. It always seems to be worse with the oldest child. I know I gave my parents a run for their money. My dad always told me that I was by far the toughest person in his life. I guess that means I’ll have some challenging kids. On the other hand, the ability to push the envelope is great when it comes to careers and education. I am sure that one day, he’ll learn to channel it into productive ways.
Well, thank goodness I was the angel child...My sweet child will be as perfect as I was and Mom will give me sympathy on the rare moments they act up....haha!
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