My kid can negotiate better than your kid.

Good Lord, God All Mighty.  My son has been starting up on something new and I'm not liking it.  Not liking it one bit.  Seems when he doesn't get his way, when I ask or, God forbid, tell him what to do, he turns into the defense team representing OJ Simpson.

A simple request turns into a full fledged negotiation and the negotiation takes longer than the actual request to begin with.  There have been times where I've just given up and said, "God dammit, I've asked you to go do something, please go and do it.  NOW."

That is met with, "ITS NOT FAIR.   I HATE YOU.  I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF MY GAME AND ALL MY DATA WILL BE LOST.  AGGGGHHH!!!  I HATE YOU!"  And if that weren't enough, he goes up to his room stomping all the way, all thirteen steps, slams his door and tears apart his room.

Add to it, he's still yelling, "I HATE YOU.  I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU HAVE A BAD DAY.  I'M GOING TO MAKE YOUR DAY HORRIBLE."

I try my best to ignore these statements while he's coming undone but it's hard.  He seems to think that because he's having a bad day, everyone else around him should as well.  He takes it upon himself to make sure your day is as bad as his.

A picture of the two of us he tore to bits in a meltdown
along with half of his room.  This is what hurt the most.

There was one particularly bad day where he said these things to me and I just lost it.  Lost it completely.  I lashed back at him and yelled, "You wanted me to be mad?  You wanted me to be mad?  Well now you've got it.  I'M MAD.  NO, I'M PISSED OFF.  Look at me.  Look at my face and see what it looks like.  That's mad.  Now go to your room, NOW."

At the time, even though I was madder than hell, I was telling him to look at my face.  Some weird kind of teaching moment I know.  Even through my own anger I was still trying to teach him.

And he looked at me, scared to death and said, "Can you not make chicken nuggets for dinner?  I prefer mini-corn dogs."

Fucking mini-corn dogs.  I lost it over mini-corn dogs.

After a few minutes I went upstairs and listened at his door.  I could hear him tearing apart his things.  The meltdown was over but he was sobbing and sniffing.  I felt like shit.

To be honest, I was sobbing on the other side of the door.

A little later, I talked to him and we patched things up but not without residual memories for both of us I'm afraid.

I know he says these things because he's out of control and he's seeking to gain that control back.  I know that.  I really do.  He's trying to put his mind, and his world, back the way he wants it.  The way he wants it to be.  But it doesn't always work that way.  He can't play his i-Touch all the time and he can't be in control all of the time either.

I know these things and I know why he's lashing out but sometimes this ride is hard.  Sometimes I loose it.  And sometimes I loose it completely.

I know this new skill of negotiation comes from the stressors of the day, school and everything else that puts his mind to worry.  I know this is his way to seek out stability in his life.  I know that.

So asking him to do a simple thing such as putting his folder in his backpack or putting forks on the table will not happen, it's going to have to wait.  It's too much for him.

I will do it.

And I'm OK with that.


Note:  I write this here because I lose it sometimes.  I do, we all do.  We wouldn't be human if we didn't.  I used to be afraid or ashamed to admit that, that I'd be less than a 'good mom' if I said that out loud.  

I put words to what happens in our house so others may realize they're not alone.  That we all, occasionally, have a moment.  Deep down, we're all doing as best we can.