I knew it wouldn't last, and I knew it was coming. Alan is now on my shit list once again. Every evening he has homework and he moans about doing it, puts it off, then at the last minute and under screams from me he whips it out and does it. Not well, and sometimes not at all. Now the teacher sends back his work and wants it completed. I don't know how many times she writes SHOW YOUR WORK on the stuff but it doesn't sink in.
So this week is like any other.... Alan finally does it. I ask to see it. Tonight's was a paragraph writting exercise. He brings it over (mad because he has to bring it to me) and we take a look. We do it the same way every time I do any checks with him: look it over one sentence/problem at a time, I ask if it's okay, and if not he tells me what it should be. First few sentences he corrects fine but of couse he tells me that I don't need to ask "is this one okay?" as he knows what to do. The next sentence he thinks is okay but I tell him I think the word 'he' doesn't need to be capitalized. He disagrees. I tell him that he isn't a proper name and it isn't in the beginning of the sentence, so it doesn't need it. He says it does. I say well let's look in your notebook and see if there are other examples. "Mom I don't want you to go proving me wrong, I hate that" I tell him its not personal, but he's wrong and needs to correct it. "NO" I then say that I'm here to help him with his homework, does he need it or not? "No I don't" Fine, I toss his notebook onto the floor and push him off my chair.
The same thing happened last week when he insisted that the days of the week didn't need to be capitalized. I didn't toss his stuff, but the argument was worse.
I've had it with this little shit. He is always right, I'm always wrong. I can't talk the way he wants me to, I don't drive my car properly, I can't fix any food he'll eat, I can't say or choose or do anything right according to him.
Leave me alone
I know what I'm doing
I don't want you telling me what to do
You don't have to tell me, I already know that
Don't bother me
Why didn't you get that instead?
Why did you have to pick me up here, couldn't you have done it there?
Why did you park here?
I don't need to do that
Why is it always me that has to do this?
Why can't Grace do it?
How come you get to pick? I never get to.
over and over and over and over I hear this every single day. I've listened to it for so long that most of it just passes through me. Yes I've learned to ignore most of it. But you know, there comes a time when a child should learn how to speak to a parent, and all of the above is rude and disrespectful.
And if I say anything in reponse to the above, I then enter into an argument about it. I don't want the argument, and I cut him off. STOP IT right there, do not argue with me little boy. But he doesn't listen. And I wind up popping him. I hate it. But let me tell you, I don't hurt him, but boy if you could see his act you'd think the very touch of my skin to his is like pouring acid on him. Which makes me even more angry.
So... either I ignore the rudeness and seem like a parent who lets her son say whatever he wants, or I beat my child. I hate both. I will not stand for this, but I can't see a solution.
Last night I got so mad after sending him to his room without supper, I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration. And I couldn't calm down, so I got my keys and told Grace I needed to get out of here. Trouble is I was crying so much I didn't want to go far, and I couldn't really go anywhere in that shape. I just wanted to scream forever. I finally made it to Ron's house and I stayed there for a few hours. I called mom and told her just in case.