This is more of a venting opportunity than anything, because I am going to have to get an idea of how not to strangle this child before he comes home.
In addition to all the "adjustment challenges" we've been having, we still have all the old crap to contend with as well! Yay! I have to remind myself that I did not ask for this situation and I have done pretty well, considering that I had no experience and maybe a week to get used to the idea.
I should also remind myself that I am used to having periodic breaks when he goes to stay with Grandma for at least a weekend at a time. Grandma hasn't been well enough to take him in a while. Those breaks were essential to his survival, let me tell you. Now I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of losing it, which indicates that it is TIME TO GO TO GRANDMA'S, except I'm not sure that Mike can juggle any more. I think I'm going to have a conversation with Mike today to find out, though I feel like I already know what the outcome will be. Mike may be perfectly willing, but... well, anyway.
There are many issues going on with Ant right now. Namely, he's 12. When we were at the thrift store buying the table, the cashier was talking to him and asked how old he was. He said he was almost 13 and she asked, "Know everything yet?" I laughed like a hyena because somebody understood.
Let's see if I can get this out.
1) His fashion icons are emo kids, so he wears his pants under his ass and throws his head to get his hair out of his face.
2) Every other word is like and he calls everybody dude. This morning, when he stood in our doorway and told us he was late again, Chris yelled "GODDAMMIT, ANTHONY!" and Ant responded, "I KNOW, DUDE!"
3) We have driven him to school... too many times because if he wakes up when his alarm goes off, he climbs down off his bunk bed, hits the snooze alarm, then climbs back up and passes out. I am developing a Rube Goldberg project where his alarm is in the bathroom along with his clothes. The alarm goes off next to a baby monitor whose receiver is next to his ear and when he leaves his bedroom to go look for the snooze button, the door swings shut and locks behind him. It's not fair that school starts so early, not just because IT GOES AGAINST NATURE but also because by the time I'm finished with some homework and a few chores, he's already on his way home.
4) He is an authority on EVERYTHING. Just ask him. If he doesn't know, he'll make something up, then defend it to the death.
5) If you give him water, he wants milk. If you offer him a snack, he wants a meal. If you buy him a graph paper notebook, he wanted the red one. If you pick out something he likes at the store and try to hand it to him, he'll put it back and grab THE EXACT SAME THING, just so that he can pick it out himself.
6) Why did you do that? I don't know. Who took my tape dispenser? I don't know. When is your project due? I don't know. Where is your homework folder? I don't know. What did you do in class today? I don't know. When did you last take a shower? I don't know. How are you even functioning? I don't know.
7) He makes up songs, yammers on incessantly, or just makes noises all the time, maximizing the acoustics in every room. He loves to do this in the car. If he sees a friend on your side of the car, he'll yell at them right through your ear even if the window's up. Oh, and he's learning to play the trumpet.
8) Any item within reach becomes something to fiddle with. The first thing he does as soon as he gets hold of a mechancial pencil is break the clip off. Then he pulls the eraser out, removes all the lead, and chews on the plastic. The process is the same no matter whose pencil it is. He doesn't ask if he can destroy your pencils, he just takes them when he can't find his- which is often.
9) If you ask him to do something, he will do it wrong or not at all. If you give him specific instructions on how to do something, he will decide he knows a better way to do it.
10) No matter what you say to him, whether it is a greeting, a question, a comment, a reply, or a command, his automatic response is "What?" It is unnecessary to answer this question as it is simply a placeholder. You have to wait until the gerbil gets the wheel in motion and then he will be able to answer intelligently. Well, it might not be an intelligent answer.
Okay, so I understand that all of this is just adolescence. My question is how to deal with that. ("I don't know.") I talked recently with a mom of a daughter Ant's age and she said this girl doesn't have any chores because she can't do any of them. That sounds retarded, but I was relieved to know that Ant's not the only one. I am starting to wonder if we did the dishes right, Tracy. Did they look at our work? Did we skimp? I don't remember skating on the job- I remember scrubbing Mom's cast iron skillet so hard that she told me I was removing all the years she'd put into it. But maybe my memory has an ego. I remember Grammy grabbing the broom out of my hands and telling me I didn't know how to sweep. I remember my TI grabbing the mop out of my hands and telling me I didn't know how to mop. I sure could clean a toilet, though. Ant gets pee all over the outside of the toilet. I specifically point it out and tell him to make sure to clean it (and aim, for Pete's sake) and when I come back, he hasn't touched it. I tell him he hasn't touched it and he whines that it won't come off. I tell him to clean it and he starts working on it and- oh my god- miraculously it comes off. It is so obnoxious to have to chase him down and I am getting exasperated. I walk into his bathroom here often and so far he has been trying to follow orders. But what the hell is going on in the kitchen? ("I don't know.")
I have pleaded, I have taught, threatened, cajoled, provided incentive, yelled, explained, and even made him drink out of a cup with congealed milk in the bottom. Yes, I most certainly did. I implemented schedules and plans that involved rotating responsibilities so that he wouldn't always have to be the dish fairy. I am lost and I am so tired of having to make him redo it that I really feel like it would be easier to just wash them myself. I am frustrated and I have to be careful not to express said frustration by gleefully imagining clonking him on the head with the skillet that DID NOT EVEN TOUCH THE WATER. Even though I have never hit this kid and never will, you're not allowed to imagine such extreme and silly Roseanne moments as hitting someone with a frying pan. My inner evil stepmother is imagining creative and cruel punishments such as inviting the family to come sit down at dinner, bringing over the pan of hot, yummy food, scooping out a nice serving for Ant, bypassing his plate and dumping it directly on the table. I can't use paper plates, obviously, because he would be just fine with that. I have also considered making him wash every single dish in the kitchen, just emptying every damn cupboard and creating a nightmare-sized pile of dishes to hand wash. I could buy a child leash and make him follow me around the house like when Riley gets in trouble.
These solutions are only good for making me laugh and lightening my mood. Now I need some real suggestions. Please.
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