This morning was a rough one. I only have N this week, and the weeks when it's just the two of us are pretty low key. Not today.
Let me backtrack by explaining that yesterday, he went over to a friend's house after he did his homework. The friend is a good kid, his mom was very nice, and he didn't stay that long on his first visit. He was invited back anytime, which makes me feel like I did something right as a parent. All of that? Totally fine.
We got home, he ate some dinner, and then he played on his ipod/watched tv for the rest of the evening because I'm totally gearing up for "Mom of the Year" nominations already. I told him it was time for bed, and he knows what that means: brush teeth, turn off tv, dock ipod, etc. I walked in to tell him "goodnight" 15 minutes later, and his little face was lit up by his ipod screen.
Extremely bad judgement call.
He claimed he was just seeing if his friend (who he'd spent the afternoon with) had text him back. I calmly walked over and extended my hand. He freaked out on me, but I didn't feel bad. He knows the rules. Bedtime does not equate to "Oh, but let me just see if he text me back because it was important..."
I hardly think the response to "What's up?" is worthy of being important, but maybe it's just me. I told him he would be grounded from his ipod today, and went on my merry way. I don't know why, but I expected this morning to be sunshine and happy faces.
Newsflash: When I woke up this morning, it was pouring. Still. I went to wake N up, and he was dragging...like, it took him well over 15 minutes to put on shorts, a t-shirt, and a jersey. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but it also took an extra 10 minutes to get him out of bed. Somehow, we made it to the bus stop on time, but he had a crappy attitude. I chalked it up to the rain and being tired, and told him I'd see him after school with a better attitude. I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes, but it was dark and my eyes were only a little openish, so I could be wrong. I bet I'm not.
I went home and went back to bed. Why? Because I can. And because my sleep was constantly interrupted last night as I fought to find a comfortable position. This whole left side/back thing has made me super aware of how much I move around at night. No wonder I sleep alone...okay, that's one of MANY reasons I sleep alone.
We'll just leave that alone for now, okay? Thanks.
N walked in the door after school, and the first words out of his mouth were, "I thought I saw you at the bus stop with an umbrella, but obviously it wasn't you. Thanks."
Oh yay! I was hoping for an afternoon just like this. Maybe we could top it off with a poke in the eye or a trip down the stairs, just for fun? Sounds super!
He told me that his friend invited him over again, and walked over to his ipod, only to stop abruptly and thank me (so kindly) for grounding him from his ipod so he couldn't text his friend. I guess the thought never occurred to him to ask if he could use my phone.
It doesn't matter, I would've said "no" anyway. Why? I'm also hustling nominations for "Meanest Mom of the Year" because I like to keep things interesting. I'm pretty sure I have that one in the bag.
He did his homework without complaint, aside from the fact that he was REALLY upset that he couldn't find a brown colored pencil. Obviously, not being able to locate a brown colored pencil is a complete travesty, however, when he melted down over that, it should've been my first clue.
I remained clueless until he copped an attitude and started yelling. I told him he needed to respect me and all that was going to do was get him in more trouble. He wouldn't stop, so I grounded him from going to his friend's house tomorrow. That REALLY pissed him off. He stepped it up a few notches, so I did, too.
Grounded for a week. Wanna keep going? I can do this all day. And when he yelled that he hated his life and I made him an angry child and followed it with a kick to the wall, I very calmly said, "Okay, two weeks it is."
What happened next, I find difficult to describe. I hear lots of thumping and bumping and muttering coming from his room, followed by "Ow" on repeat in varying volume levels of hurt/anger. He comes back in, clutching his chest, saying it hurts. He's pulled this dramatic move before, so I simply told him I knew what it was. "No, N, it's NOT a heart attack...it's all the meanness inside you, trying to bust out."
Oh, man! He hated that answer. So much! He stomped back into his room, slamming into the wall for effect. I followed him as far as the laundry room to start a load of laundry, and told him to do his part and collect his clothes from this morning out of the bathroom. He refused. Solidly. I told him he would do it, or his consequences would be far greater...and that he was seriously starting to piss me off.
He threw the clothes in the washing machine, and I told him he needed to go ahead and go to bed. The time? Approximately 3:55. After I loaded the washing machine, I wandered around for a few minutes before I went in there. He was sobbing, and curled up in the fetal position.
Then, things started to click. I was being calm in explaining why he was being punished and he was being over the top about how he was the worst kid ever and he always does the wrong thing because he's evil and so on and so forth. I told him he wasn't, that everyday he has the choice to be kind or to be ugly, and that he's ugly to me and to his brother entirely too often. He started crying even harder, and that's when I asked him what was going on.
"Is something going on at school? You're NEVER like this unless there's something seriously bothering you. You have to tell me so we can get through this together."
He assured me there was nothing going on at school, that it had only been 3 days since they'd been back, so I moved to sit on his bed to brush his hair out of his eyes.
And that's when I felt his forehead. And that's when it all made total sense. He was warm, too warm. He's my healthy kid. I can literally count on one hand the number of times he's been sick-sick and had to miss school. Each time he gets that sick, he turns into my own personal form of Satan. Laugh if you want, but it's true. And it sucks, because he isn't used to feeling puny and having to be still and rest. That's B's job...and he doesn't do it very well either.
I took his temperature, then gave him some meds, Gatorade, a box of tissues, and the remote control. A few hours later, I made him some eggs, gave him some ginger ale, and checked his temperature again. Higher. More meds, an email to his teacher, and three rounds of applesauce later, there was still no change. I put him to bed with a bottle of water and some cold/flu meds, and we'll see how it goes.
And immediately, my brain started telling me that my throat hurts. My brain THINKS it's going to psych me into feeling sick, but I'm not falling for it. I did, however, just knock on the coffee table and end table for good measure.
So, I'm turning off my alarm for tomorrow morning, and me and my biggest boy are sleeping in. Thankfully, I'm still at home for the time being. It would be a nightmare if I were working right this moment.
And can I just say how grateful I am for the people in my corner who are there to help me and support me every step of the way? I don't say it often enough, but Mom, Dad, Katie, and David? I'd be lost with out you. Thank you for being there no matter what.
Oh, and you, too June, my niece-dog. Since Lacey's gone, I guess you can be the best now...even though you do like to try to bite B's face off.
Then again, if I were you, I'd probably want to do that, too...
Aubs
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