"I hate you," he said casually. I was floored. I thought that I had talked to my boy enough for him to understand how painful those three words could be. I wanted to tell him that I hated him sometimes too, but I didn't. I really didn't and I'm glad about that.
I asked him to leave me alone.
He wouldn't. He kept banging on my bedroom door. What is it with guys that when you say you want them to leave you alone, you can hear them breathing just outside your door until you open it again, even if they don't bang on it like my son was doing.
It was exhausting.
This morning, I tried getting him to get ready without yelling at him. I told him when he had twenty minutes before it was time to go. I told him when he had ten minutes. His best friend told him a couple of times to get ready. He just kept playing the games. Yes, video games. I could just shred his video games into a million tiny particles. I really could, except that my husband, Mike, would be mad.
Do you ever want to have a do-over? If I could have a do-over, I'd never have let Jack play video games and watch TV. They have stunted his development. They have shrunken his brain, his attention span, and his vocabulary.
And he can never get ready for anything. I came along and turned off the TV and within three or four minutes, he had put it back on again. Really? Who taught you that you had the right to do that?
I was a bad mom in all of that today. I told Jack that he might want to join the military, but if he couldn't follow directions and show up five minutes early for every appointment, he'd spend his time there washing toilets with his own toothbrush. Well, actually, I didn't say that. I told him he wouldn't like the military where they tell you what to eat, when to eat, when to sleep, and where to jump, and by the way, how high. I just don't see it being a happy fit. Home isn't a happy fit for him right now, though, either.
Thank you for listening, jules
I asked him to leave me alone.
He wouldn't. He kept banging on my bedroom door. What is it with guys that when you say you want them to leave you alone, you can hear them breathing just outside your door until you open it again, even if they don't bang on it like my son was doing.
It was exhausting.
This morning, I tried getting him to get ready without yelling at him. I told him when he had twenty minutes before it was time to go. I told him when he had ten minutes. His best friend told him a couple of times to get ready. He just kept playing the games. Yes, video games. I could just shred his video games into a million tiny particles. I really could, except that my husband, Mike, would be mad.
Do you ever want to have a do-over? If I could have a do-over, I'd never have let Jack play video games and watch TV. They have stunted his development. They have shrunken his brain, his attention span, and his vocabulary.
And he can never get ready for anything. I came along and turned off the TV and within three or four minutes, he had put it back on again. Really? Who taught you that you had the right to do that?
I was a bad mom in all of that today. I told Jack that he might want to join the military, but if he couldn't follow directions and show up five minutes early for every appointment, he'd spend his time there washing toilets with his own toothbrush. Well, actually, I didn't say that. I told him he wouldn't like the military where they tell you what to eat, when to eat, when to sleep, and where to jump, and by the way, how high. I just don't see it being a happy fit. Home isn't a happy fit for him right now, though, either.
Thank you for listening, jules
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