In the job description

I just had to punish my son for the first ‘real’ time.

At the end of my short, very calm speech, I wanted to grab him up in my arms, hug the stuffing out of him, and tell him it would be okay while I cried all over him.  I didn’t, of course, but I had my hands clasped together and was white-knuckling it to keep from it.  And now I’m wickedly sick to my stomach and feeling dizzy.

… and all I did was ground him from TV for the weekend.

I need to go lie down.

About dyskinesia

Woman, mother, human being, grammarian. I have Attention Deficit Disorder. My child has Asperger syndrome. Philosophy, laughter, therapy, living. Life after divorce.
This entry was posted in Damn It, Kids, The Boy, The Ugly Truth and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to In the job description

  1. Taoist Biker says:

    To an extent it’s time that he starts to push his boundaries and it’s our job to make sure we clarify them when he does.

    But he did tell me this morning that he thought about screaming “you ruined my life!” to me. When I asked him to clean the Legos off the table so we could eat breakfast. Eesh. Such drama. And still 3.5 years before he’s a teenager.

    You’re a good mom, babe.

  2. iamheatherjo says:

    I think you’re doing a fantastic job especially if this is the first time he’s really been in trouble.

    I’d already been in LOADS of trouble by his age!

    I know this information shocks you. 😀

  3. boundandgags says:

    I’m always getting yelled at to clear my legos off the table. Oh wait, that’s my drunken friends. It’s sort of the same thing.

    I have to agree with the Mister. It’s a tough road and you’re driving it well.

    My girlfriend’s daughter is 18. She’s at the ‘I have total freedom! You can’t tell me what to do!’ stage with a dollop of ‘I need a ride. NOW!’ tossed in for good measure.

    When she was a little kid, 8-9, I was teasing her about her first boyfriend. I told her when he’d arrive for the date I’d have a bunch of friends, all guys she knew, big, scary looking dudes, sitting around the table cleaning guns, talking shop.

    There’d be Fred, a guy who looks like an axe murder, Bob, the army sniper, Rich, the detective, Joe, the cop (he’d be in uniform), there’d be a patrol car outside. The whole deal. She was mad/laughing about the situation. We had fun with it. For awhile.

    Cut to a few years later. Let’s just edit it down to WHOA! We were talking and I asked if she remembered that scenario. She did. I told her I was going to change it up. I wasn’t going to do anything to the kid because she’d be hard enough on any guy. She didn’t like it much but it turned out to be the absolute truth.

    You have a tough job and, if I may bastardize an internet phenomenon, He Does Haz Good Parents.

  4. You should cram the Legos up his nose…not the singles or the doubles either. The square pieces…hurt going IN and coming OUT. He’ll leave ’em there for a while.

    (Just kidding…you can use the singles.)

  5. Kimmothy says:

    That just made ME feel all shaky and weird!
    Should the parental thing ever happen to us, I know I’m not going to be the disciplinarian in the group. I get upset when either of us has to reprimand the dog.

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