So Frustrating

Not knowing what to do in a situation can be one of the most frustrating things ever. Especially when the situation has happened before, and you did what your instincts told you to do, and everything was ok. But every situation has variables. No two are the same. Especially when it comes to L.
L is eight years old now. Not a teen, not even a pre-teen really. So when he shuts me out, and refuses to talk to me like a teenager might do to their parents, it DRIVES. ME. CRAZY!
I'm so lost. I don't know what to do. I've never faced this problem before. And yeah, it's such a small problem in relation to other problems other kids have, but this is my dilemma, my blog.
Here's an example:
Yesterday, I picked him and other kids up from school. Outside the school there is a small hill, that's covered in ice. Not a safe situation, but a fun one for any kid not concerned with head injuries. The kids were playing on said hill, blowing off after-school steam. Everyone was fine. L was fine. L was happy.
I gave the "one more turn" warning, and after that, turned and left. Like the Pied Piper, children followed me.
As we approached home, I noticed the gloomy look on L's face. "Now, what?" I thought. I asked him what was wrong, and he ignored me. I tried to stop him walking and look in his eyes, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. I asked again, and again, he shrugged me off and pushed past to continue on home.
And again this morning. We were walking to school, everything was hunky-dory. L stopped to slide on some ice against my advice, and the other kids were still continuing on to school, so I did too. We were only next door to the school, and I left him behind. He was not crying, he wasn't shouting, "Wait!". He didn't seem to care. And he's 8, so he can manage to walk that short distance by himself.
When we arrived at the school, he had caught up, but had that disgruntled look on his face again. I asked what was wrong, and he wouldn't answer. Again.
This kind of thing just makes my blood boil. I can't even begin to describe the inner turmoil I feel, how ANGRY and FRUSTRATED it makes me feel! I want to take him, and shake him. I want to force him to tell me what is wrong, why he is behaving like this. I want to threaten him with punishments if he continues like this.
But I don't.
It takes EVERYTHING, every ounce of control I have to walk away and leave it be. Because there isn't anything I can do. It's out of my hands. It's out of my control.
But it's not right. He shouldn't be shutting me out. Not at his age. He is still young, I feel. Logically, your mother should be the one you turn to for comfort at his age. He should be looking to me to make it better. Why is he bottling up these feelings? Is it to punish me? To make me hurt too? Because that's what it feels like.
And the frustrating thing about it is that I can't see what the sudden mood swing is from. What happened between minutes 35 and 36 of that hour? He wasn't hurt, he wasn't shouted at, he wasn't ridiculed or poked fun of. What was it?
It angers me too, because he is ignoring me, and to ignore someone when they ask you a question is just the height of rudeness in my book. And you don't ignore your parents.
So what do I do? Do I continue to question him, to demand an answer because he should not be getting away with this behaviour? Is it just bad behaviour, another form of manipulation?
Or do I leave him alone, respect his wishes? Do I allow him his privacy to brood? Do I recognize that maybe he can't help this behaviour?
But bottling up your emotions isn't healthy, right? Doesn't that lead to more problems? Shouldn't he be forced to explain what he's feeling?
The dark looks directed at me during these times (and those two examples are MERELY the tip of the iceberg!) scream to me that his ire is focused on me. That I've done something wrong, or that he wants me to notice that he's upset at something. But if the goal is to get me to notice something is wrong, then bloody well tell me what it is!!
So if he has a problem, a real issue with feelings and sorting through them, then I need to help him. But I don't know how.
And if it's a behaviour thing, then the answer to me is obvious; I need to ignore the behaviour and show him that if he wants attention, he can get it by cooperating.

Update on L

So back in November I posted a little about L, and the troubles he was having. Finally, this week, we had a doctor's appointment. I have to say, I felt kind of weird making him go to the doctor when he isn't physically sick, and he was a little confused too. It's not like we ever go there at all really. As you can see, this is how long I had to wait to get him in to even see the doctor. So we don't go there for other stuff, like sore throats, or sore ears, or anything that needs to be looked at within the next day or so. And because the appointments are so difficult to make (between the scarcity of them and mine and DH's schedules), my kids never have check-ups either. I think the last time they had one they were toddlers. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure my Dr.'s office DOES check-ups. There are all kinds of weird restrictions they have, like "only one problem at a time" (SERIOUSLY? What if the two problems are related?) and they don't do vaccinations either. You have to go to the public health office for those. Sigh.
Anyway, I'm getting off topic.
L went with DH, since I had other kids to look after. Plus, I felt like I might turn into Hysterical Sobbing Mother if I had to talk about this out loud to another person, so I felt DH was the better choice here. He's more level-headed than I when it comes to the kids. He's the one that says, "He's fine," when the kids tell me they have a headache, while I'm thinking, "OMG, do we need an MRI?"
I gave him a small list of my biggest concerns, and when DH came home after dropping L off at school for the day, he said the Dr. is referring him to a pediatrician. The good part of this is that he took it all seriously. He didn't blow it off, although a part of me did want him to just say, "You worry too much, he's fine."
Of course the not-so-good part is that he said he may have a form of childhood depression. And also, the fact that now we will have to wait months and months I'm sure for anything else to be done. Getting a pediatrician appt in this town is next to impossible. I'm sure it will be at least July if we're lucky.
He also said it could simply be something is bothering him; something he can't even figure out himself. But of course, he isn't exactly qualified to make any sort of diagnosis. He isn't a specialist, only a family doctor.
And then of course, we will have to wait for the pediatrician to refer us to a further specialist.
So much waiting. And we haven't even begun. I feel badly for the parents who have children with disablilities and are waiting for support services. It must be agonizing.
Right now, I can just thank god that he isn't too bad. He hasn't had a really "down" episode since that one. His need isn't as urgent as others, although that doesn't make it less important. I've been trying to do some reading on childhood depression, but I need to delve deeper. If I could find the time. That kind of reading calls for uninterrupted quiet time, something scarce around here.

Rant of The Day

What a day today has started out to be. I hate days that start like this. But I've learned over the years that just because a day starts badly, it doesn't mean it has to continue or end badly, I just need to stay positive if I can.
My mood hasn't helped. I kinda feel a little bit like how I do right before my Aunt comes to visit. But it's not that time. So I'm not sure what's up with that. But little things are bugging me, and DH is getting on my nerves, as he often does when I'm in this mood. For as long as I can remember, he always takes another side when I'm complaining about something, or telling him about an issue. It doesn't seem to matter what we're talking about, work, the kids, or something I saw on the news, anything, he always takes the other side. That is so annoying!! I know that he is just trying to present another POV, but sometimes I'd really like for him to just agree with me and to sympathize, or even rant with me! Sometimes it makes me want to scream at him, "You aren't helping with my mood!"
So this morning L came downstairs and seemed in a giggly mood, which is a nice change. He was also sporting a mohawk, something he'd obviously been creating in front of the bathroom mirror before coming downstairs. I laughed and started to chase him around the house, trying to get in a few hugs and kisses and trying to enjoy his rare good morning mood. This turned into a bit of a pillow fight, in which he grabbed a few throw pillows from the couch and tried to hit me with them. Of course, I didn't let him, and got in a few light (very light) hits myself. He was laughing, and so was I. At one point, I tossed a pillow to him (not hard) and this dark look came over his face. It was like watching Bruce Banner turn into the Incredible Hulk. He screamed at me, "YOU MESSED UP MY MOHAWK!!" and whipped the pillow at my face, which actually did hurt a little.
I tell you, it was like night and day. One minute we're giggling and having fun, the next minute he's demon child. And I would expect that a little if I had inadvertently hurt him, but I know I didn't, I barely tossed the pillow at him. And there were no sharp zippers or buttons on it, so I am positive it wasn't a pain thing.
I took him from the room and told him that sort of behaviour wasn't acceptable, and that was way too hard to be throwing a pillow, as we were just having fun and playing around.
How did it go from light-hearted and fun, to me having to practically yell at him?? Every morning I end up mad at him for something, usually taking too long to get ready, so I was thinking how refreshing it was that we were having fun for once. Why did he have to ruin it? It made me wonder if he has some kind of mood disorder.
When DH came down I told him what had happened. And instead of sympathizing, or offering to talk to him, what does he say? He blamed it on a hormonal surge!
What?!
And he didn't mean my hormones either. He meant L's.
I say again, WHAT??
The kid is not even 7 yet.
He said, "I remember getting that feeling when I was a kid."
Umm, ok, whatever. Maybe when you were 12!
I said that even if that were true, it wouldn't excuse that behaviour.
It's like he is trying to take another side and he's reaching for explanations.
Reaching, HUGE.
So that made my mood dampen.
Then another child arrived. Now the other day, I was expressing to DH how this father brings his child in, who is a just-walking baby and allows her to climb into the house herself. This is all very sweet and all, and a great step towards independance, but I'm sorry, sometimes you can't allow for independance, especially when someone else's heating bill going up is the result of it! He stands there with the door open for ages waiting for her to get herself in the door!
So it was suggested that if it happened again, that I say something gently, before the snow comes and it really has an effect on the heat.
As he opened the door, I put a smile on my face and wished them good morning, and said, "Come on in (child's name), quick, quick, before all the heat goes outside!"
Now wouldn't you take that as a hint if you were the parent? I know I would!
But no, what does the dad say?
He actually scoffed,"Oh, it's not that cold out!"
Say what?
Excuse me, but is he the one paying my bill? I think not. It totally pissed me off. But I tried not to show it, and asked jokingly if he hadn't turned the heat on in his house yet. He said, of course, but he didn't think he had it as warm as I did. What was that supposed to mean? That if I wanted a warmer house, then it was my own fault when other people caused the bill to rise? Or what? Because that's the way I took it. I calmly informed him that I keep the heat set at 21C. That's all.
So now I don't know what else to do. You know me, I hate confrontation, but I really can't allow him to hold the door open wide for a solid minute while he waits for his daughter to climb in all winter long. Especially when the wind is howling and snow is blowing around! I'm thinking maybe I'll have to speak to the mother about it, maybe have her say something, I don't know. I guess that is the coward's way out. Maybe I'll send out a general note asking all the parents to remember to enter and exit quickly? But that seems kind of stupid, especially since I've never done that before. Perhaps I'll just quickly meet them at the door, and pull her in myself.
Not too long after, it was time to get ready so I hustled two babies and six kids to the door to get ready. Of course, the youngest baby had pooped, but there was no time for changing at that point. Why do they always choose the worst times to poop?
Upon returning home, I picked up said baby and whisked her off to the change table, only to discover leakage that was now also all over my sweater! Gross! This baby's diaper was so full there is no way that the mother had changed her diaper this morning! Either that of she drank a GIANT bottle before coming here. And I mean, like, at least a half litre. It takes a lot of pee to make a Pampers leak.
Sigh. That was my current favourite sweater too. The one I had saved for wearing today, what's supposed to be the coldest day of the week. And I always hope to wear my sweaters twice, as it cuts down on laundry and also makes them last longer. I only got to wear it for a couple of hours.
So now I'm feeling rather grumpy. The youngest baby is whining (she's really rather a whiny little thing), the other one won't let me leave her sight (as the appearance of the younger one somehow turns her into a cling-on) but at least the girls are behaving.
I'm also stressed out because tonight was supposed to be P/T conferences. I specifically signed up for later interviews for tonight because of our crazy evening schedules, and because both DH and I want to be there. But now L's teacher needed to reschedule tonight's due to a death in her family, so DH can't come, and R can't even come to his own because his Cub troop is going to a local hockey game. And don't even get me started on how stressed I am about that. Large crowds and children on the cusp of independance make me nervous. I already emailed the leader about making sure he doesn't get to go to the bathroom or snack bar alone. Too many weirdos out there! Anyhow, I hate going to P/T stuff alone, because DH is so much more aggressive and forceful than I am. And L's teacher is a bit of a flake, so she needs to be intimidated encouraged a bit to give L a kick in the ass. DH is better at that than I.
God, I'm a wimp, huh?
Well that's it for my rant today. Hopefully I haven't bored you to tears, or made you want to slap me for whining so much.

Guilt, guilt and more guilt

What a horrible morning I've had.
What a not-so-great summer I've had, so far.
I guess it begins with the kids I'm looking after. The dynamics of the group are such that there is an awful lot of fighting and arguing.
And it's wearing on me, day by day.
I don't know how much more I can take; something's gotta give, and soon.
I have five boys I look after, including my own. Who knew boys were such handfuls? There are two 7 year olds, one five, one four, and one just turned three. Aside from R (my angel, LOL) the other four are CONSTANTLY trying to "one-up" the others. I just don't get it. I guess it's a male thing, the whole "leader of the pack", "male dominance" BS. But it causes sooooooo much fighting. I can't take it anymore.
And as it turns out, neither can my own kids. At one point during the morning, R left the group to come into the kitchen with me (the others were outside) and said he didn't want to hear it anymore. I hear ya.
That was when I happened to witness another fight in the making. L was screaming at the four year old because he got to the swing first. Then he hauled off and punched him in the stomach!
I just couldn't believe my eyes. My kids are taught never to hit, or otherwise, and for most part they don't. L has his moments, with a swat here or there, but a full on sock to the gut?!
Being the red-head that I am, I immediately lost it - my temper that is.
That indiscretion just compounded on top of everything else that was getting on my nerves, and I completely lost my mind. I ran out the screen door, screaming at L to get inside, at which point I smacked him on the stomach (open handed though) to prove to him that it hurts. I also screamed at him at the top of my lungs; I'm sure the whole neighbourhood heard, the windows are open. I sent him up to his room and stayed in the kitchen, pacing, and literally shaking with anger.
And then it hit me.
I had done exactly what he had. I was no better than a five year old. I let all the day's (or week's) stress get to me, and I laid into him as I am not allowed to lay into the children that aren't mine. The ones that I truly want to lay into. Get it?
I feel horrible. I should be a better person that this. I just couldn't believe I had done that.
I dissolved into tears, trying not to get any in the KD I was mixing up. Then I went upstairs and apologized and cuddled with L for a while. And the look he gave me. It will haunt me forever. That trustful, sad look. The trust, that I didn't deserve.
Now I'm crying again. But I just feel so awful for doing that. Why do I let my temper get to me like that?
So now, I am trying something to hopefully help the situation from escalating again. I gave all the kids a stern talking-to at lunch. A whole big speach on being nice, not arguing, and following the rules. I also told them that I am implementing a new points system, where they will be losing points for arguing, and gaining ones for acts of kindness. The points will allow them to play video games, or not, if they don't have enough. I'm not quite sure how it's going to work out. These things always seem like a good idea at the time, but then end up being more work for me somehow. We'll see.
If this doesn't help though, I'm really afraid of my next step. I am going to have to "fire" someone. And I know who that someone is. I will have to admit failure, and just swallow my pride and tell his mother she has to find new care for him. I just can't continue to allow him to keep provoking me into this stressed out state. It's not fair, to me, or to my kids, or to the other kids either. And there doesn't seem to be a whole lot more I can do with him. I've looked after him for five long years now, and his behaviour has always been an issue. But timeouts are too juvenile for kids his age, and I am running out of ideas for punishments. I'm very limited with what I can do. So I'm praying, PRAYING, that the loss of video games will work with him.
Please let it work.