There is a nice hellish mixture of stuff happening in our gaff at the moment. I tend to lean towards blaming Xbox and too much screen time. Whilst being aware this probably doesn’t help there is no talking to, with or around hormones.
I will leave it to you, dear reader, to decide which of us has the hormental moments.
It is and it isn’t me.
It is and it isn’t any of the boys.
Anyway, this morning was your text book Monday where if anything could go wrong, it did. By one thousand percent.
Things weren’t pretty.
There was also a good bit of power struggling in the mix which never, ever helps.
I can remember all too well, that horrible, awful, claustrophobic, cloying feeling of having absolutely no power or control over my own life when I was growing up.
I wasn’t allowed make any decisions of any kind. It was always no. Without exception. Everyone hated me and I wished I had never been born.
I get it. I do. Christ, I am an adult, in charge(ish) of my own destiny, with money (sometimes) in the bank and a car under my backside and I still can’t just get up and go whenever I feel like it.
It’s hell for kids on the cusp of teenager hood -and even younger – when they get their first taste of this.
They feel like they have no control over or say in anything and claw desperately to regain some, any of it.
It rarely ends well.
I think this morning there was a hefty dose of “she really wouldn’t do that” and “he’ll back down” from both parties. It transpired that I did do it and he didn’t back down.
I am still not sure if I did right for doing wrong but he was reminded of a rather tough and lengthy punishment that was doled out before Christmas with someone else and how it was adhered to. I believe my exact words were, “so you see I am capable of doing something like that.”
I am not proud.
But it did warrant a very lovely apology a few hours later. A heart felt one and we had a very brief discussion about how we could make things easier, better, nicer for everyone in the morning.
I went off to have my shower and came back to discover there was a massive effort being made in the kitchen.
Everything washed, dried and put away.
I said thanks and that I really appreciated it, how having that job done for me is a great help.
I almost had to beat him out of the kitchen after that. The enthusiasm.
However, it became blatantly obvious some hours later that because an apology was issued and accepted, it was assumed the punishment would be lifted.
It began to get nasty again.
To all of those wiser than me who warned me to wait till they’re teenagers, I have one thing to say: You were wrong. You were all wrong.
It starts earlier than that!
Just send the wine. Send all of it.