Tuesday, December 22, 2009

All I Want For Christmas Is Some Good ol' Fashioned Xanax

Why is my son behaving like a total asshole?

Yes, I know he's six but he's still acting like a jerk. And the whole Santa's watching threat is completely useless. The Boy thinks he's a bad ass and probably wants Santa to watch.

He has acquired the habit of chewing on his sleeves until they are soaking fucking wet... and then he chews some more. He's even had his behavior card flipped at school because of this. For those of you not up-to-date on your elementary school penal code system, getting your card flipped is bad. I put him in short sleeves and he manages to somehow chew his collar.

And he's repeating everything I say to him.

Me:  "Go to your room."
The Boy:  "You go to your room."
Me (in my head): "Fine, but I'm taking the wine with me." (then I do twirls and spins with my wine bottle glass in hand because that's where I wanted to be anyway.)

Me:  "Stop throwing paper airplanes at my head."
The Boy:  "I didn't do it." (he says this as a fleet of paper jet fighters sit waiting for take off at his feet)
Me:  "Don't lie to me."
The Boy:  "You don't lie to me."
Me (in my head):  "Shit. He's got me on that one."

His anger manifests itself in all kinds of physical ways. Usually it goes like this (and if anybody knew his father, they'll recognize this right away):

First, his eyebrow shoots up into his hairline while he simultaneously clenches his fists and grits his teeth. Then he shakes a little or a lot. He might even look for something to throw, but he catches my eye first (my eyebrow also holds the ability to arch with menace). Then he'll storm upstairs and threaten to runaway... to the gas station. I offer to help him pack. And so ends another day.

I think I recognize this for what it is:  the struggle for power and control. Mom versus Son. I'm pretty sure that in the end I'll win, if only because I have more duct tape than he does and I know how to use zip ties.

But it's exhausting work and requires copious amounts of Chardonnay. I'm also not opposed to sedatives (and not just for my son.) Stop yelling at me, that was a joke. But seriously, a little pharmaceutical gift in my stocking would be much appreciated, Santa.

Every villain needs a monocle.


Anonymous said...

Sending you a package later today! Don't you worry mama! At least Christmas will be mellow. Xx. You know who this is FYI...

The auntie!

Miss Spoken said...

Anonymous - Why don't you make the leap from anonymous commentator to Miss Dee? Or Mrs. Davies? Are you that embarrassed to follow the word of Miss Spoken?

Forgotten said...

I feel your pain and my little "pain" is only a little past two and half. (Say a prayer for me because he has some attitude in him...sheesh.)

One of these days he'll respect your rules but only when he's moved out, married, with kids of his own and he's looking for advice. Just remind him of this and all the other moments he arched his eyebrows at you. :-)

Aunt Becky said...

Gah. Sounds like my son. KILL THEM ALL. Or medicate myself. And you.

Miss Spoken said...

Forgotten: He might just get that eyebrow shaved off for Christmas if he doesn't knock his crap off. I'll consider it his gift to me.

Miss Spoken said...

Aunty Becky - Psychotic minds think alike.

Anonymous said...

That's my nephiew. Don't worry sis I'll hook you up with an awsome cocktail that even Courtney Love would say is too strong. Than I'll lend you my shaver for the boy. Don't get mad get even, than make them your bitch. Love you, had a great Xmas.

Miss Spoken said...

Anonymous - Next time post your comment as My Gay Brother (aka Puppet Boy) so I don't have a heart attack thinking your Courtney Love comments were made by my rehabbing sister.

Thanks, fucker.