I know I haven't posted for quite awhile, but there hasn't been much new stuff to tell. Things are going along rather evenly, which is good, I guess, as it means they aren't getting worse, but aren't getting better either.
Bedtimes are an issue, to put it mildly. We can start as early as we like trying to put L to bed, but it's always 9 or more by the time lights are out, and that doesn't mean he's asleep shortly after that. We've been letting him listen to an audiobook on his iPod, Harry Potter, and that seems to help alleviate some of the desire to "talk" (or rather whine, moan, complain and weep inconsolably). We set the sleep mode, and he listens until he either falls asleep or it goes off.
Unfortunately, he has finished it, and I'm still on the waiting list for the next one from the library. So that means the past few nights have been harder. Last night, DH was the one left to talk to him, and I left the room because basically I "started" the weeping by shouting at him. I did lose my cool, yes, but I'm so sick and tired of the delay tactics that this kid has come up with. It takes him FOREVER to get ready for bed. You can't send him upstairs and expect him to put pjs on and brush his teeth in a timely fashion. You send him up, give it 20 minutes, and then go up there to find he has done absolutely nothing and is busily distracted with something in his room, or at best, is standing there with no pants on. Then it's another 20 minutes of cajoling, prodding, prompting, nagging, and just barely restraining yourself from screaming "GET YOUR FUCKING PYJAMAS ON!!!"
Anyway, last night he was playing with some wire, and he was winding it around his feet, with his feet (it's hard to explain, but not really important anyway) and that was it, I'd had it. I'd been telling him to go to bed only about 200 times, so I think I said, "L! GET. IN. BED!" Not quite shouting but not quite quiet either. He then shouted at me very rudely, which caused me to then become very angry and very in-your-face as I shouted at him to not speak to me that way. He of course, dove into bed and pulled the covers over his head, shutting us out. I said goodnight calmly and left. DH, however, stayed behind and talked to him. I could hear from my room the weeping and snuffling and sobbing. I could hear DH being calmer than he usually is, but also still saying all the wrong things. After DH came into our room, he tried to tell me that I should have handled that better. Nothing gets me angry faster than a dog defending a bone than when my husband tries to tell ME how to mother. I know I need to take criticism better than that, and I know I'm not perfect, but for some reason I can't stand it when he tries to tell me I'm doing something wrong.
Anyhow, not much was resolved either way last night, only that we realized the bedtimes are getting worse, and that we don't know how to fix them without resorting to our old shouting ways. The gentler, more understanding approach isn't working either.
So the title of this post pertains to a few things. #1, what is the point of this approach if it doesn't help?
#2, in an unrelated matter, what is the point of me making dinner anymore? I make something, and I'm the only one that eats it. Mostly. The boys complain every night that we're not having either chicken fingers, hot dogs/hamburgers, or pizza. Or pancakes. And of course, we don't have those things every week, let alone every night. I've learnt to not take it to heart, but sometimes it just gets to you. I cooked a casserole from leftover ham, and DH informed me that he was going out with the guys for dinner/drinks tonight. So I was the only one to eat it. L complained, but at least tried it, and R wouldn't even try one bit. He decided to make himself a turkey sandwich, after complaining that there was no deli turkey (only leftover turkey from Easter dinner), as if I'm seriously going to buy deli turkey knowing we'd have leftovers.
#3, then I made a comment to R, along the lines of "get a life". It was a joking, teasing comment, and while I'd NEVER say that to L, R can usually take this stuff. He was trying to butter his bread, which kept tearing, and again, he was complaining about it. I wasn't being serious, but he play-acted being shocked at first, pretended to cry, then really did start to cry! I said sorry, that I was kidding, but he didn't reply.
So I'm feeling like a bad mom, but also annoyed too. How is it that one day we can joke around like that, and the next minute, not? It must be teenage hormones starting or something. Then L starts in on me, about how that wasn't nice, and it didn't sound like I was joking, and I'm thinking again, what is the point? Why am I even here?
So now I'm up in my room, giving myself a timeout. L texted me on his iPod to say he was sorry that he complains about everything, it was very sweet and made me feel even worse for not being more patient. But I'm no saint, and I think given how frustrated and annoyed I was feeling, giving myself a timeout was probably the best choice, even if I do feel it was a bit like running away. I was worried I'd do or say something I'd regret more.
Now I'm annoyed with DH who has texted me to ask if we were doing anything Saturday. Today is Wednesday, and I will explains that this is the third night in a row that he has got to go it and do something fun, while I've been home, doing mundane boring stuff like being a mom. Monday, he had tickets given to him for a Raptors game, so since L had cooking class, I took him and R got to go with DH to the game. Then last night, not wanting L to feel left out, DH took him to the movies to see the Croods while I stayed home with R. Tonight, he had already made plans to go out with some buddies from school, and in all fairness, he doesn't get to socialize a whole lot more than I do, so I can't begrudge him that. But after three nights of him getting to do "fun stuff" while I stayed home, I'm feeling somewhat bitter.
So DH asked me via text if we were busy this Saturday, to which I replied no,why, and he said he'd been invited to the Jays game. Immediately I thought, he better not say yes without even asking me if that was ok, because asking if we were busy is not the same thing as asking if it is ok. After a few texts he did ask if he should give it a pass, to which I said yes. I'm still annoyed that he would even think that was ok to ask in the first place, and asking if he should give it a pass is not like asking if its ok with me.
Sigh. So, I'm just generally annoyed. Annoyed with my husband, with my kids, with myself.