I suppose this is what happens when I in fact let him get his way and spend the night at my parents.
He comes back combative and an absolute brat. We argued. He threatened to hit, he hit, he got spanked, he got a talking to, he got held, he was in full melt down.
At one point I wanted him to sit with me so that I could have him look at me when I spoke to him. He was in the chair next to the couch, and as I walked by, I grabbed his hand and fully intended him to get up and move over to the couch with me. Only, he didn't. That of course was a problem. The top part of his body moved, while the bottom part stayed in place. This of course meant his side got caught up on the arm rest. So now the child has been hurt. I feel like a heel, because I did not mean for him to get caught up, I just wanted him to sit with me. Now he will have a big ass bruise, because of the angle of the arm rest, and because he is my child.
I have coincidentally done this to myself before on this very chair and it does hurt. So I feel absolutely awful.
Did I mention I feel like a shit mom?
I had no idea this parenting thing was going to be so hard.
He got settled down, we talked, and I felt he was past this blip. I was wrong. When I went to the store to get snacks for him and his two friends, he stayed here with them and with Rob. I get back to see Spenser has yet again lost it. WTF?
I am tired. I am worried. We are supposed to go to a block party with friends, but I don't think we will be able to, because he is off his rocker.
I wish life was easier.
I want to run away. Far, far, away.