23/365: Looks are Deceiving

Doesn't he look so sweet and innocent? Most of the time he is. Tonight, however, was a different story. I really can't pinpoint what happened or why. I got home from work, was folding laundry and talking to him about his day and his homework project. I told him we would work on it after dinner. He got a little rambunctious so I sent he and Bella to the kitchen table while I matched the last few pairs of socks. The screams and whines began. Klucker then yelled at them. Boo called Klucker a bully and threw the gate in front of the stairs. I had him come in with me and held him tight while I talked to him. I sat him against the wall for a few minutes and then had him put away laundry. He was calm. Order seemed to be restored. I should have known better.

We sat down to dinner, chili, and he began his daudling. If it were up to the kids, dinner would be a two hour experience. I've stopped badgering the kids about eating and now just set a timer. Five bites into the chili, Boo was full. He just wanted some butter crackers. He ate more chili so he could get crackers. After the crackers he was full again. I don't force the kids to eat, but if they refuse, the choice is bed. So after reminding him of his choices about five times, he decided he'd go to bed. (Now this wasn't without drama because he wanted to stay up to work on his homework). He walked away saying that he didn't like his family. I reminded him that using mean language got him in trouble earlier and he stopped.

If only he'd gone to bed. Instead, he brought his bath towel down and threw it on the kitchen floor. After he picked it up and put it in the bathroom, up he went to brush his teeth. When I got upstairs, the sink looked like it'd been painted with Crest. I made him clean it up. "I want my food." Now he wanted to eat his supper. As much as it broke my heart, I wouldn't give in to that. We're clear with the kids that when they leave the table they're finished. "I hate you. I hate my family." Another tight hold and long conversation about mean words and following rules, followed by a flood of tears. I gave him ten minutes to quiet down and offered to read a story. "I want my food." I closed the door and walked away. I waited another 10 minutes. I laid down beside him and tried to rub his back. He turned away from me and covered his head. I told him I loved him even when I didn't like his behavior. He told me he didn't love me and that he didn't want any hugs or kisses. I walked out and closed the door.

I know he'll be a different child in the morning, but his anger breaks my heart. I know it comes from growing pains and trying his limits. He's growing up and seeing how far he can push. I know his words come out of frustration. But knowing and feeling are two different things. His words and tears and irritation break my heart.