And it was mine.
My goodness did I pitch a FIT. Here's how my day went. I literally gave rides at 7:45, 8:40, 9:30, 10:30, 11:15, 11:30, 12:00, 1:15 and 1:30. In between these times I was listening to kids whine and moan about why we couldn't go school shopping yet, and how they were cold (the air conditioning is on too high), and how they needed this that and the other thing. So when I came home at 1:45 eager to do my last drop off before I could go to my office and get something done, I simply freaked out at the fact that they were too busy watching TV and playing XBox that they couldn't get their chores done (they are supposed to do them after lunch, before electronics during the summer). MInd you, two of them had. The rest had not. I had a very ugly meltdown that included things that I usually try to avoid -- like screaming and frothing at the mouth. Ok, I didn't froth. (is frothing a verb?) But I screamed.
I then stomped out in a huge huff and returned 3 hours later to a clean house. So I guess it seemed to work, though I don't like the methodology.
I KNOW teenagers are like this, but when Bart and I are trying to work as hard as we do to provide them with the things they need, and they just sit and whine it pushes this button in me that eventually, after several days of this, leads up to an explosion.
Sports practices all start Monday so we're heading back towards routine. I like routine.
3 comments:
I'm sorry you had such a rotten day. All that driving would send me into a case of the screaming meemees, even without the house full of uncooperative teens.
My MIL was a master of the screeching, blame-throwing fit. My hubby recalls that she'd go off like clockwork about once every three weeks. After telling off everybody in the house for failing to lift a finger to keep the place clean and functioning, she'd burst into tears, run into her room, slam the door and fall, weeping copiously, upon her bed.
My late FIL, who was one of the worst offenders for failing to help around the house, would sternly lecture my hubby and his brothers about pitching in more. The lectures would invariably end with the ominous words, "You're killing your mother."
Pretty over the top for WASPS but this scenario went on for years, until the kids left home, or so I hear.
So don't worry about one outburst; you're only human and it doesn't hurt to remind your kids of that fact every so often.
I had a similar melt down. I don't think I frothed or foamed... but the two youngest children are not watching TV today. I have never gotten any games. Really, they can't follow the rule about cleaning before they watch TV, why should I add another temptation?
It is worse because my oldest, FASD daughter is here while she awaits placement in an adult foster care. She never cleans her room. She is an adult you know and adults can't be made to clean their room. Besides, I am making her move out and so it isn't really her room to clean. I'll just have to clean it when she is gone. She gets up and turns on a movie before she is even dressed. I have decided trying to enforce basic rules isn't worth her raging and foaming at the mouth.
Yet, in her eyes, she is following all the rules at home and I am STILL making her move out. I am mean. I don't trust her to change. She hasn't even sneaked out for over 2 weeks.
Thank you for this post. I'm sorry you had such a hard day. But I'm glad to know I'm not the only one whose buttons get pushed when we've busted our butts to provide for a child who then announces things like (in our case) "you NEVER buy me anything! you NEVER take me ANYWHERE! we NEVER do ANYTHING FUN!" (this is typically the day after something like an afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese and a big shopping trip, btw) Times like those I end up having a hard time not getting very nasty very fast. And our foster son is only 9, so the eye-rolling and REAL incessant entitled complaining hasn't even started yet! I have totally had these meltdowns. Hey, if my kid can have (sometimes violent) meltdowns multiple times a day, I guess I have a right to have one twice a month or so. For me it starts with snapping at him but ends up with me crying in my bedroom.
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