Hanging in there...

Ooh, last night I had it confirmed again- QTIP!  Is this how you got through my adolescence, Ma?  I think I need some coaching, but I am trying to channel you.  How you only left me at the grocery store once is beyond me.

He was such a horrid little surly kid yesterday, all snotty and 'tudy.  Just asking about his day brought out the smartass in him, and I don't think he actually meant to be a jerk.  We were walking the dogs and I think my eyebrows were raised the entire time.  Try to start a conversation?  Shot down!  Not the most enjoyable walk, but I just tried to move on to the next topic and see where I could get.  He did not seem to notice.

Our toilet died, which means we have to share Ant's.  At one point on our walk, he informed me that he would be going directly to bed when we got home.  I amended his schedule to include cleaning the bathroom. 

He informed me that he did not have enough time. 
I reminded him that he had been asked to clean it every day this week.
He contested the exact number of times he had been asked.
I explained that he would be cleaning the bathroom.
He told me it was clean enough.
I took some deep breaths and tried not to kill him.

At home, I directed him towards the bathroom.  I puttered back and forth past the bathroom so I could peek in at his progress.  Sure enough, he came out to return the cleaner WAY too soon.  I invited him back to the bathroom so we could check.  I asked that he lift the lid and was immediately repelled by what I could see from the doorway.  He had not even lifted the lid.  You did not clean this part at all.

"Yes, I DID!"

Ignore.  Instruct.  Why does he need more supervision now than when he was 7?  He gets the toilet clean with lots of glares, huffs, attitude, argument, and extremely shitty comments that I ignore.  The toilet is clean.  Whew.

He finishes the bathroom and comes to eat dinner.  I am in the kitchen, cutting up carrots.  I offer him some.  He tells me he is full of snot and the tissues are not soft.  I break out the sickie tissue box that comes with aloe.  He is happy and overblowing his nose.  I tell him it will take days to blow all the snot out and he should not blow his nose too much.  He wants to know HOW he could HURT his NOSE if the TISSUES are SOFT.  I try to explain it to him in terms of inflammation and pressure and I am dismissed.  He goes into the living room and begins to eat his taquitos.  He offers me one.

I go and sit down and eat a taquito.  We discuss how good they are with milk.  We discuss the cookies we made on Tuesday and the restraint Chris showed when he found them.

I go to wash the dishes.  Ant comes in and stands at the end of the counter and talks to me.  He tells me about some things that happened that day, what's going on with his friends, what's going on with his current status with Chris.  He tells me about what happened last night when he was with Chris, how he'd misbehaved and how upset he knew his dad was with him.  He told me about that afternoon when he had been with Chris and gotten a sense of just how bad his attitude must be if his dad is this upset with him.  He told me he knew it had to change, but that it was hard to do.

I reminded him that for me, 13 was way worse than 17- I was a complete asshole at 13, and that things would get better soon.  He reminded me that he would only be 13 for another two months, then laughed as I celebrated.  I think I was 16 when Mom left me at the grocery store, though...