OH for the love of Pete (who the hell is Pete, anyway? What’s so special about this guy that he pops up in all sorts of non-swearing swearing?).
If I have to hear one more second of this whining, screaming, slamming, smacking, shrieking, throwing, kicking meltdown extravaganza I may very well go lock myself in a closet with a stocked mini-fridge and a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. And by fully stocked I am not talking about Juicy Juice here. Okay. Deep breath. I am not actually naive enough to believe that would do me any good. For starters, my bedroom closet is the Party Express Catch All right now – all of my party supply crap bins are in overflow mode and I haven’t quite felt like dealing with the mess. There’s barely room enough for me to grab clothes, let alone get comfortable with a mini-fridge. Even if there were, I’m well aware that the drama would follow me. That’s kinda how it works. Mom has a headache? Let’s see how loud we can be! Oh well. It’s a nice fantasy at least.
Apparently there’s just something in the air today. Don’t ask me what, because if I knew that I’d have found a solution to this by now. But both of the kids are completely on edge today. I’m sure part of it has to do (at least on Kaleb’s part) with the fact that he was up at 4:30 this morning (again) and he still has a cold. Mason… well, he’s just Captain OCD when it comes to those damn matchbox cars. Heaven forbid they don’t line up just right every single time.
So, here’s the deal. Kaleb, as I said, was up well before the crack of dawn (for the third time this week). First he was in our hallway, then behind the couch, then on the couch, then under the desk, then attempting to build a house with blocks – at five in the morning. miraculously, at this point Mason was still asleep, and judging from the stuffy snores coming from his general direction, in need of more sleep. And Kaleb was in no way helping to maintain his brother’s peaceful snores. After hearing the blocks go crashing down, I jumped out of bed again and ran out to see what was going on. Of course, Kaleb’s answer came at a decibel about 7 octaves too high for the current situation and I just about had a mini omg-he’s-going-to-wake-mason stroke. I sent him back to his room, informing him for the third time so far that it was way too early to be running about the house like a giant sound wave. I gave him a book, closed his door quietly, and went back to bed. For all of ten minutes before he emerged again only to go rummaging through the pantry.
This went on until it was time for his alarm to go off. After he informed me that he kept leaving his room to avoid the alarm I wanted to smack myself. His alarm wasn’t even set! I had purposefully left it off because he stayed home from school sick yesterday, and I didn’t know if he would be going in today until I was able to see how he was feeling. Obviously, he was feeling well enough to get his hyper-active loud and proud tush on that bus. After arguing over his clothes for ten minutes (I had given him a tee-shirt to wear under his long sleeve hooded shirt because it was supposed to warm up today, and he insisted on wearing the tee-shirt over the hoodie. He looked absurd, but it so wasn’t worth the fight before I’d had any real caffeine, so I let it go), arguing over his applesauce (I want pudding! Than you shouldn’t have gone running around the house at the butt-crack of dawn), arguing over his blankie, and finally fighting over his refusal to untie his shoes… we finally got him on the bus.
Of course, Mason woke up 30 minutes later.
I had to go grocery shopping, and this morning was the only real chance I was going to have, so I packed up the kid and off we went to CrazyLand (AKA Walmart). After discovering a couple quarters in my jacket pocket we checked out the gumball machines. I then spent the next 78 minutes of my life listening to my three year old insistently asking for cupcakes (“We get cupcakes? Cupcakes? My cupcakes? Cupcakes Mommy? Pleaaaassssse?) which I did end up buying, and will end up eating all by myself because oh man were they good today! We did our shopping, and got home with just enough time to put away the groceries and get the Mini-Monster on the bus.
Daddy and I had to leave immediately after to go sign a contract for the place we’re renting out for the wedding rehearsal party – or so we thought. Twenty minutes in traffic and one closed bridge later, we found ourselves going over all the details I have literally gone over on the phone more than half a dozen times in the last 8 months. So, instead of signing a contract, we ended up working it up, and were informed it would be emailed to us. *sigh* Who knew this wedding business was so complicated? I have a whole new respect for those brave enough to make careers out of planning this nonsense!
Got home, did dishes, etc… all the other normal daily crap, and realized with a start that I had all of three minutes before I had to leave to get Mason off the bus. Everything was hunky dory until we got home. Milo, in his typical “OMG-you-were-gone-forever-now-I-need-to-be-loved-right-this-very-second-loveme-loveme-loveme fashion, came bolting through the living room at light speed. In the process, he managed to run right through the cars in the middle of the living room floor. The ones Mason had painstakingly lined up this morning. The ones I went out of my way to avoid all day so as to prevent another matchbox car catastrophe (you should have seen the hallway last week. There was a 75 car pileup in front of the bathroom door). And just like that, everything spiraled out of control.
Mason lost it. LOST. IT. Dropped down to the ground like he couldn’t stand the pull of gravity for one second longer. Then the kid let out a scream worthy of a high soprano opera star. After that the real fun began… again. Throwing the cars all over the house with as much force as possible. Screaming what sounded like jumbled obscenities at the dog. Repeatedly hitting himself in the head as hard as he could. Normally, I’ll let this go until he figures out how to calm himself down, despite my overwhelming desire to make the kid stop smacking himself. Partly because he really needs to learn how to calm himself down. But mostly because every time I try to intervene he ends up louder, more angry, and more violent. Unlike Kaleb (who always aimed his physical anger at yours truly), Mason has a tendency to aim his anger at himself (which I’d honestly prefer, he’s really going to hurt himself one of these days). So I usually sit close by, and monitor him until he seems more receptive to me involving myself. But considering he was on the verge of slamming his face into the floor with some serious force, and I had to get Kaleb off the bus in under five minutes, it was time for Mommy to jump in. This of course resulted in more screaming, more face slamming, and more frustration for both of us. I set him down, grabbed up all the cars, lined them back up, and he stopped. He looked at the cars, then looked at me, gave me a face, yelled at me not to touch his cars (“My cars! Mason’s cars! You understand?!” At least, that’s what it sounded like), and went back to putting them in the proper order.
Crisis averted. Well, crisis stopped at least. Until Kaleb got off the bus seven minutes later.
This time we didn’t even make it down the driveway before the meltdown started.
Every week Kaleb receives a homework assignment. This might seem a little crazy for kindergarten, but considering he’s actually doing first and second grade work, it’s good for him. Typically, he comes home with a packet on Monday, and it is to be turned in on Friday. The packet usually consists of five pages. The first page is vocab/sight words for the week (so far he’s known them all already), as well as a list for me to fill out of what he’s reading each day during his 20 minutes of required reading time. The second page is typically some form of math assignment. The third page usually asks him to write out sentences using each of the vocab words on the first page, the fourth page is a comprehension assignment – read the paragraph, answer two questions about the paragraphs. The last page usually asks him something random (what did you do last weekend, what is your favorite food etc) along with a place for him to draw a picture of his answer.
This hasn’t been a problem for quite some time – he generally enjoys doing his homework. However, last week she upped the ante a bit – I’m guessing because she picked up on what we were coming to realize – it was too easy. So, she added two new pages. Another math assignment (with the world’s most absurd word problem. Why do people insist on coming up with the most obscure problems for kids to solve?), and another writing assignment. This was more of a creative writing assignment, so I didn’t really think it’d be difficult – given Kaleb’s outrageous imagination. Oh was I wrong. Daddy and I have been fighting with Kaleb about this homework since Wednesday. He did the normal four pages and then came completely unglued at the sight of the two new ones. One meltdown after another, and the homework still wasn’t done as of this morning.
So, when he got off the bus today I asked if he had homework – since he missed school yesterday I assumed he did. He immediately started to spaz out. The whining, dropping to the ground, high pitched “I hate homework” shriek. All the way back to the house, barely shuffling along (once he got off the ground) fighting and complaining about the prospect of homework. When he was finally somewhat calm I sat him down and told him he needed to finish last week’s homework – today. He didn’t have to worry about this week’s homework right now, but the work from last week needs to go to school tomorrow. The last thing we need is for him to get into an early habit of turning in his work late. When he started to whine again, I informed him that he had until the end of the day to get it done, or I was going to take the Lego Airplane out of his room until his homework got finished.
Needless to say at this point, as I am sure you’ve figured out where we’re going from here – a gigantic meltdown ensued. Pencil thrown across the room, a six year old thrown onto the floor, brain rattling, glass shattering shrieks, punctuated with high-pitched whining shouts of “I don’t want to do my homework and you can never, never, ever make me do things I don’t like! You need to be nice to me because you are a Mommy and you can’t be mean!” This went on for a few minutes before I got down on the floor, and informed him that if he was going to continue carrying on he needed to take it to his room until he was calm enough to talk to me. His response?
“I HATE YOU!”
Now, I am well aware of how freely this phrase leaves the mouths of children. I said it plenty as a kid myself. But oh… I was so completely unprepared for it. The kid completely rocked me right out of my shoes. I told him as calmly as I could to go to his room, then immediately walked away. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment. The first time my child told me he hates me. Five minutes later he came out of his room, and asked for milk. I told him once more that I wasn’t going to give him a single thing until he first – apologised to me for the terrible thing he said, and second – did his homework.
He offered up the apology quickly enough, and I then spent a few minutes trying to make him understand just how terrible it is to say what he said. I’m pretty sure it went in one ear and out the other. I then told him to do his homework. He asked for help with the word problem (yeah I don’t blame you kid – we’re going to be in deep crap when he hits middle school math), and I sat down to work it out with him. As soon as he had an answer put together, I told him to write it down and finish his homework. Enter Meltdown mode. Again. After another five minutes of screaming, back to his room he went.
Now, an hour later, his homework is done, dinner is in the oven, and Mason is in his room screaming at his cars again (I swear on all that is holy I am going to melt those suckers down and throw them in the river one of these days). It’s been one heck of a day, and I am very much looking forward to bed time. I love my kids – more than anything – but I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to start applying wrinkle cream at night (ha! Like I’ll ever remember to do that!).
I hope you all had a better day than we did! And I really hope tomorrow is better – though I’m not super optimistic, stupid early release days.