Patrick lately has been really picking on me. I'm genuinely upset and have cried alone about this many times. Just the way I MOVE in public will inspire him to harshly criticise me in front of everyone. At church on Wednesday, I made some sort of gesture while talking (I honestly don't remember what!!) and Patrick saw it through the window and loudly questioned me IN PUBLIC a moment later as to whether I was doing some "Hallelujah" move to impress my Pentecostal friends.
When I try to lay down the law and make him quit being so disrespectful, I get this "Oh, but I have no clue what I did wrong and I was just wondering" kind of thing. I think I would rather he just come out on the WAY to church and say he hates being where we are and would rather go to the Baptist church again. Then I could tell him that it's tough crap, go deal with it until you get your own car and now we're getting near the door so please pretend to be all holy n stuff. Well, I only half- kid here. I honestly don't mind if he's more of a Presbyterian sort of a fellow, so long as he doesn't give gobs of money to the denomination we used to go to that now supports un-Christian lifestyles. To each their own, honestly.
Or yesterday. We were literally walking up the steps to get into his school for an "open house" thing and he tells me that we pulled Elf out of school too quickly and that we lacked wisdom from God.
Oh, and while I was about fuming and not knowing what to say, he added that if *only* I had stuck things out with Elf, he wouldn't learn that he'll get his way and can quit school and stay home with mom. And I should have waited for a summer break.
Oh, my word. I'm sure there are a lot of teachers and parents wondering why I was on the steps of a public school giving my son a run-down on the evils of the local elementary and telling him he had SOME NERVE to even THINK that we just pulled our son out of school as some sort of knee-jerk reaction to "not getting our way."
I mean, yeah, "kid-locked-in-a-closet-regularly" DOES EQUAL "not getting our way." So we should have stayed? And it was a knee-jerk reaction when I'd been bugging his dad FOR MONTHS to pull the kid? And I have a chip on my shoulder regarding public education? Damn straight, I do. (Yeah... sigh. Now I'm cussing.) Thanks for pointing it out and getting me all fumed RIGHT BEFORE meeting all the ps educators!! By the way, I happen to LIKE all the teachers I've met that are working with Patrick and G. I think I said several nice things about the teachers and staff but made one comment about the mazelike building during the two hours we were there and got trounced again by Patrick. The boy infuriates me.
The building is actually a real firetrap. Full of stairs up, down and sideways. I won't tell you where we are exactly, but it was actually the setting of a famous horror film, ok? I never saw the film, but I'm sure the film had lots of running in the narrow, twisting, windowless corridors and up and down those stairs. This feature is too scary to leave OUT of the film. I'm thinking axe or chainsaw and a chase scene would be ideal... In any event, just last year a child fell down the stairs and broke his ankle and I can easily see how that happened. Easily. Add to that the fact that the building has been added to and that the bottom stair isn't always the bottom stair (it can be two inches off the ground and you think it's level - too late!) and some literally HILLY floors in the 100-year-old building and you can at least see where I'm coming from. One of the teachers joked with me that the children wanted to hide cheese for the parents tonight, it's such a mouse-maze.
Usually, when someone bugs me, I just stay away from that person or place. If I fight with my husband, well, he works all day AND most weekends. So we're ok. And if I fight with G, he has a terrible grasp on "how to win a verbal fight" and I can effortlessly run circles around him in that department. If only he weren't so loud and screaming the same two tired insults, I would win every time. And the younger kids still listen to Mom occasionally.
I alternate between praying for Patrick and wanting to pop him on the head with his schoolpapers. Probably just my displaced anger at the school district coming out. My bad.