This morning I went to iron my only pair of khaki’s. The first thing I see is that the iron was plugged in and on. (I am very grateful for automatic shut-off). I start to iron my pants and notice something brown and sticky being left on my pants. I turn the iron over and it is -brown and sticky. Thinking to flush out what ever the kids had gotten on the iron I took the glass of water we use to fill the iron and filled the iron. It wasn’t water. It was oily. It was vegetable oil and water mixed together. Vegetable oil and water will make your iron turn brown and sticky and will not be kind to your clothing. My pants are now ruined and I am not sure I can save the iron.
The question “Why?” comes to mind. The response from my teen aged children when asked was to glare and stop speaking to me. Sigh
I don’t know if it is the change in the weather,or the phase of the moon,or hormones. I do know that all three kids at home are full of attitude. They are not being the most pleasant of companions today. The boys still have not finished their work that should have been done almost two weeks ago now. At least their sister is doing her school work. She is also working out of her mad faster than her brothers. The seventeen year old is wanting from time to time to work out of his mad,but catches himself. My thirteen year old does what his brother does. No independent thoughts there. My boys are throwing a very long,drawn out,silent hissy fit over their school. Their refusal to speak to me is getting kind of old. We have been playing this game since last Thursday. I may resort to moving rocks and other meaningless physical work soon. After all, if you don’t graduate high school you are pretty limited as to job opportunities. Manual labor might be you best shot at paying the bills. I have no problem giving them practice so they can be the best meaningless manual laborers they can be.
I partially think my problem is how slack I’ve been with instant consequences. I have been wanting them to self regulate. I also have a fair amount of guilt over the chaos of the last year and am overcompensating somewhat in the grace department. They are showing me I need to parent them much,much younger than I have been. It is hard to parent a seventeen year old like he is ten. I feel like a smother mother. Any other teen age boy would be rebelling like crazy with the reigns that tight. This son is rebelling because I have loosened his too much. Some times you can’t win.
Youngest son has been pleasant to us and racking up the incidents over stupid things for the folks in detention. I suppose he has to be ugly somewhere. When he was ugly to us, he was an angel for the staff. If he is nice to us, he is ugly for the staff. It makes no sense to most folks to refuse to fasten the Velcro on your tennis shoes. Somehow it makes sense to him. The hardest part when he is pleasant,you can see the person he could be. He is a joy to be around then. All the hope comes back. Hope he can come home. Hope he will settle in. Hope he will heal. I understand why those who only know his casually are smitten with him. I understand why they don’t believe in his dark side. I have trouble remembering just how ugly he can get. I want to forget,to tell the truth. Who wants their son to be so messed up killing people is justified in his mind?
If he were ugly all the time I wouldn’t be as afraid for his future. His ability to charm and then turn on those who care for him is much more frightening that simply indiscriminate rage. I have no answers.
Of the four kids attitudes and behaviors, I will take the older three’s scowling and stubborn refusal to do their school work over charm vacillating with violence. Eventually they will work themselves out of it. When they do, they will do their consequences and move on. They may have trouble with cause and effect, but they do get it in time (kind-of,sort-of). At least they try.
