rant about kid
Aug. 10th, 2004 06:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smibboI do not pretend to be the most wonderful mother. I do not even pretend to be a good mother all the time. Sometimes, though, I'm not sure I should be doing anything!
Third son comes up to me and says he needs snack to take to school. Today was the second day of school starting. I sent him to school with a large BOX of Ritz S'mores crackers. I had already talked to his teacher and determined that it was perfectly acceptable to send him to school with a large amount of snacks to be given out over the course of the week. I like to believe that an entire box of crackers would not be eaten in one freaking day. I ask him if they ate up all the Ritz. He says no. I ask if he got snack today. He says yes. I ask if he did indeed take the box Ritz to school yesterday. He says yes. I ask what in sam hill is the problem.
"I think my teacher doesn't want to serve the same snack everyday" he says.
Ten minutes of questioning reveals nothing. I tell him to go talk to Baph, who is lying on the couch with his laptop while watching a movie. He balks at this. He repeats his "issue" ad nauseum.
I'm trying to make dinner, I'm trying to understand what the problem is and I'm getting nowhere. Finally I yell at him. Then he gets that "I'm gonna cry" look and I'm about to fucking explode. Which, unfortunately, I do. Bleh. Not cool, but you know, sometimes they gotta learn to just get off my case!
Next thing I know, Baph is bitching at me for handling it badly. Oh, this I don't need at all.
Next thing you know, I'm yelling at him, upshot of which is if you don't like how I'm handling it, then come in and handle it yourself!
I remember a book I read once about a couple who were trying a new type of therapy with schizophrenics - rebirthing, reparenting or something like that - the "father" had just gone off his rocker and ended up yelling at everyone, particularly the oldest "child" and had even slapped him. Later, the "father" was sitting on the steps feeling terrible about handling things badly. One of the "kids" comes up to him and listens to his self-flagellation for a while.
"But dad," he says, "you're the dad. You're supposed to do things like that. No one expects you to get it right all the time, but when stuff like this happens we do expect you to take over and do something even if it's the wrong thing occasionally"
So... y'know. I suck sometimes, but it's better than doing nothing I guess.
*sigh*
Third son comes up to me and says he needs snack to take to school. Today was the second day of school starting. I sent him to school with a large BOX of Ritz S'mores crackers. I had already talked to his teacher and determined that it was perfectly acceptable to send him to school with a large amount of snacks to be given out over the course of the week. I like to believe that an entire box of crackers would not be eaten in one freaking day. I ask him if they ate up all the Ritz. He says no. I ask if he got snack today. He says yes. I ask if he did indeed take the box Ritz to school yesterday. He says yes. I ask what in sam hill is the problem.
"I think my teacher doesn't want to serve the same snack everyday" he says.
Ten minutes of questioning reveals nothing. I tell him to go talk to Baph, who is lying on the couch with his laptop while watching a movie. He balks at this. He repeats his "issue" ad nauseum.
I'm trying to make dinner, I'm trying to understand what the problem is and I'm getting nowhere. Finally I yell at him. Then he gets that "I'm gonna cry" look and I'm about to fucking explode. Which, unfortunately, I do. Bleh. Not cool, but you know, sometimes they gotta learn to just get off my case!
Next thing I know, Baph is bitching at me for handling it badly. Oh, this I don't need at all.
Next thing you know, I'm yelling at him, upshot of which is if you don't like how I'm handling it, then come in and handle it yourself!
I remember a book I read once about a couple who were trying a new type of therapy with schizophrenics - rebirthing, reparenting or something like that - the "father" had just gone off his rocker and ended up yelling at everyone, particularly the oldest "child" and had even slapped him. Later, the "father" was sitting on the steps feeling terrible about handling things badly. One of the "kids" comes up to him and listens to his self-flagellation for a while.
"But dad," he says, "you're the dad. You're supposed to do things like that. No one expects you to get it right all the time, but when stuff like this happens we do expect you to take over and do something even if it's the wrong thing occasionally"
So... y'know. I suck sometimes, but it's better than doing nothing I guess.
*sigh*
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The Myth of Perfect Mom
Date: 2004-08-11 05:05 pm (UTC)Here's a fun story: on Monday, on my watch, my kid had a bowl of cereal... in the *livingroom*... in my husband's *favorite*chair*. The bowl -- the full bowl of Cinnamon Life & wholesome whole milk -- was spilled on aforementioned chair.
Suck. Major suck. It's a good thing we can't afford Life Insurance, or I would have stupidly ended it right there. But, you know, we fuck up sometimes. I assume I will eventually be forgiven. And as for the snack, li'l Mr. Variety will have to make do. ^_^