As of this morning, I had decided to even drop the simple morning chores that Max has in an effort to reduce friction and stress. After all, the long run doesn't matter anymore. Even so, we had a very rough morning. Max was looking for arguments and control battles all morning.
He started with, "I'm really dry, still!" He'd lotioned last night when he got home from camp and again after his shower.
I said, "Okay. I'll get your lotion for you and you can lotion before you put your clothes on."
I came back in the room and he had his shorts on already. I said, "Hey, you were going to lotion because you're dry, remember?"
"I'm not going to lotion! I'm not dry! I won't do it!"
And, yeah, I probably should have left it at that and not had him lotion. However, he's been so, so dry and it's not healthy looking. And he did look ashy in places this morning still. So I told him he needed to do it.
Instead, he took off his pj top and put on his shirt for the day, then stood there, looking at me defiantly. And, yeah. The battle lines were drawn. I went over to help him out of his shirt to lotion and he refused to co-operate, so I backed off to do other things.
He went to eat breakfast and I said, "First the lotion."
Screaming. Throwing things. Told me, "You're not the right mom for me!"
I then did help him out of his shirt, which he didn't like, but put up with, lotioned him up and went back to my business. He got his shirt back on, then threatened to throw the banana I'd put out for him to start breakfast with. When I totally ignored that, he ate it.
He calmed down while eating breakfast and I asked him about the not the right mom comment. He said he hadn't heard it anywhere, that he'd just thought it. Interesting. He also, though, said that it wasn't true and that he just can't control himself when he is angry.
He didn't like his cereal because the almond milk wasn't cold enough. So, I said he could dump it in the sink if he liked. He did, but put it in the wrong side. Innocent mistake? Not on your life. Then there was a whole issue with cleaning it up, during which he told me he just wanted to go to camp right now! That had worked yesterday, after all.
When that was sorted out, he started saying that he didn't want to go to camp at all and did he have to? He's been fighting with another boy there - like pushing down and fists sort of fighting. I said he did. I mean, really, with him in the mood he was in, we couldn't spend the day together. Someone would get hurt. I didn't tell him that, just said he did have to go to camp.
He was pissed about having to do go, so he yelled and slammed the kitchen door (Davan was still sleeping and this was also not an accident), then crashed into something else. I went and brought him back into the kitchen with his shoes, sat him down and told him to put his shoes on right there because he was being too loud. He crawled away. I escorted him to the garage and said, "Okay, if you don't want to sit in the house and put on your shoes, you can put them on here."
When I went out a minute later to take him to camp, he was sitting there, with his basketball in his hands, waiting for me. As soon as I opened the door, he threw the ball at my legs. It hit me right in the knee, which is still sore.
I yelled, "Oh, you did not just do that!" and went back into the house to calm down. I went back not even a full minute later to get him to camp. He was running off down the driveway and onto the sidewalk (to run away, I presume), but stopped when I came out. I got him off to camp, came home, called Anthony to tell him he would be picking Max up from camp again, then left a message for Barbara, letting her know what was going on.
After she was here last night and the kids were playing together and all, I was, frankly, worried that she'd put moving him on her back burner.
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