Sunday, December 2, 2007

Momzilla escapes.

Most of my posts are of uplifting, if not downright humorous, antics that involve my son, Jaysen. I've often been told "you have the patience of a Saint", and "you are such a wonderful mom, I could never do what you do". To me, I am not really doing anything out of the ordinary, and parenting my boys is naturally part of my job as their mom.

Well, as some of you may have guessed, I am only human.

And I lost it.

The other day, I was trying to get Jaysen ready for school. He wanted to "finish level 5" on his video game. Quick mental inventory reminds me that the levels on this particular game are short, and Jaysen can, in fact, finish the level within enough time. I agree. "Finish this level, then it's time for school".

Level 5 ends and level 6 begins. I remind Jaysen of his promise, and he pleads with me. I stand firm. We go through the whole shebang of "If you don't turn it off, I will", and the 1-2-3 countdown began. He did not turn it off, so I did.

"Maaaaa-Meeeee! You turn it off!"
"Yes, I did. It's time for school."
"I not going to school!" and he hit me.

I chauffeured Jaysen away from the game and outside. He continued to scream that he was not getting in the car, and not going to school. I chauffeured him into the car, where he hit me again. This is the first episode of physical aggression since beginning any medication many months ago, and he has been totally off of meds for about a month.

I buckle in my screaming child, and enter the car myself. I pull out of the driveway and begin our journey to school. We had just gotten in front of our nextdoor neighbor's house, when Jaysen's tone changed. There was a bit of panic.

"I need a tape!"
"You have 'Bach' in your backpack."
"That's a CD, I need a tape!"

Another mental inventory knows that he does need a tape.
I want to make this a lesson learned that he has to consider these things before we leave the house, take some responsibility for getting things ready for school, and the such.
He is late for school, and I will be late to work.
I also know that if I do not turn back, he does not have a chance in hell of having any sort of decent day, this will mess up his whole chi, and he will be combative at school.

I slam on the brakes.

"WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?!?!?!!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs.
He covers his ears and starts to protest my volume.
"WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?!?!?!!!!" I scream another 3 or 4 times, spilling my coffee all over my lap in the process.

Then it happens.
There is a scream.
It is not an ordinary scream.
It's fierce. It's commanding. It's raw and primal.
And it's coming from me.

Jaysen is frozen. I reverse back to the house, throw open his door, and growl through clenched teeth, "get a tape".
He runs into the house crying "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry for you!".
I follow him, to find him standing in the dining room totally confused, crying "I'll make it work. I'll make it work. I'll take Dolittle". He bolts out to the car and gets in.

On the way to school, Jaysen is telling me "I'll make you happy, Mommy". I do not answer. In fact, I start sobbing. I had just let out probably 3 years of frustration, and it scared the crap out of both of us.

We arrive at school, a bit calmer. Jaysen does try to make it up to me by suggesting (since we are late) that we run. We make it to his classroom, where I apologize for yelling, and tell him to have a good day. "Bye" was all he could muster.

I'm just about to round the corner, when I hear, "Mommy! Wait!"

I turn to see Jaysen standing at the end of the hallway, totally red-faced. He wasn't crying, but his face was so red! I start to walk toward him.

He says "I want to give you a hug."
I kneel down, he hugs me, and falls apart in my arms. He starts sobbing, a sob that really means I'm sorry. He tells me over and over "I love you. I love you so much. I love you." Then he gives me a huge heartfelt kiss on my cheek. I think that's the first time he's ever done that. He squeezes me again, so hard that I thought I might pass out.

We both collected ourselves, and he walked back to class. He kept looking back to see me. When he got to his room, he quickly turned around and blew me a kiss. Another first.

I went about my day, feeling guilty that I lost it like that. I had screamed so furiously that not only did my throat hurt, but I pulled a muscle in my neck! I realized that there is an important factor here though. I lost it in front of Jaysen, not at Jaysen. I still felt like crap regardless. When I got home from work, Jaysen greeted me with more hugs. I was thinking maybe I scared him enough that he would shape up and be an "angel" for the rest of the week.
Ummm...no.

So at least things are back to normal. :)

6 comments:

Marla Fauchier Baltes said...

Oh...I have so been there. Especially with car transitions. None of us can be perfect, especially with the added, ongoing challenges our kids have. As Maizie got older these types of situations became fewer.

Jodi said...

I've been there too...none of us are saints. One time I lost it so bad, my son went and put a life jacket on, lol.

Casdok said...

Me to!!
Afterwards i did remember he cant help it. And havent done it since.
So glad you got a hug.

mom2spiritedboy said...

Oh I too have been there, in that abysmal place. It felt so raw and necessary to scream like that and yet I felt so horrible and guilty. In hindsight, while I still regret I scared my son so deeply - maybe it isn't such a bad thing that he sees that everyone loses it sometimes. It gave us an opportunity to talk about what else mom could do when she gets so upset :-)

Anonymous said...

this story was sad, but funny, and heart-wrenching, too. I've been where you are and understand. On a positive note, Jaysen recognized your emotions, responded emphathetically, sound you out for physical regulatuation, and went about his day.

Sometimes, I felt such a rage at my son (who is very much like your son) it scared me. I was then angry at myself for not loving him as he was. Sort of got me thinking, I have control issues, too.

Michelle

Val said...

Empathy, as defined my the music therapy program head in my grad program is not defined as feeling the same as another (as she pointed out, that's codependency), but rather the ability to hear what another is saying and to tell them that you heard.

Sounds like Jaysen's empathy skills are a-ok. :P