This post is not about anxiety. It is about rage. And since this blog has become my venting place, this is where it will be released because it is huge and red and hot and my body is full of it. Tension in every muscle, my heart breaking and beating fast and hard at the same time.
Anger, tears that I won't release. Punches that I cannot throw. Yelling that was stronger than the dam holding it back.
My oldest and third born children do not get along. Never ever ever ever ever. There is always one of them walking by the other and throwing a kick, a tap, a shove. There are always nasty teasing faces and noises meant to annoy the other. There is always something.
It never stops whether we are getting ready to go out, we are in the van, we are eating dinner or playing video games or board games or walking somewhere or putting on boots to go to school. It doesn't matter if they have friends over or if it is just our family at home.
It doesn't matter if it is Christmas or someone's birthday or if one of them has given his life to Jesus and dedicated himself to serving God all his days.
These two will never be friends as adults. I've said it over and over and I still believe it 100%.
Today the older one started it. He wouldn't let up. He did something to annoy the third-born, who responded by throwing a box. The first kicked back, there was tripping and tackling and stealing of boots. There was complete ignorance to my requests to JUST STOP because they were going to be late for school.
I am very proud to say that not one single Fbomb fell from my lips even though my mouth was full of them.
I had to pull my oldest OFF of my third-born and hold him so he could put his boots and coat on and go to school.
My oldest fought me so I held tighter. He freaked out and tried to get away. After all was said and done, I walked away with a hurt knee and no glasses. I told him to find them for me and pick them up. That he did - and then threw them at me and they bounced off me onto the floor. I picked them up...bent nosepad from when he smacked them off my face, so they didn't fit right anymore.
He told me he was not going back to school and I did not care.
I got my kindergarteners to their door, and came back home. Told him I would call the police if he came near me. He went out the door "to school" but came back saying all the doors are locked and he can't get in. I told him to go to his room and I don't want to see him this afternoon. He can wait to discuss with his father.
I am sharing this for many reasons. One, as a record that it occurred. Two, because I want people to see that life is not all lilacs and cherries for us. Our kids are not angels. They challenge us every single day. And I know that in recent years they have finally started to break away from their "perfect angels in public" personas, but people used to discuss with me in amazement at how well-behaved and loving my kids are. They would look at me in disbelief as I told them stories of fighting, tantrums, and holes punched in walls.
I was talking with some friends recently and we were sharing our parenting struggles. A couple of us were discussing how people don't tend to share the parenting times that are not so good. There is fear out there. Fear of being judged, fear of the law, fear of losing friends and relationships. Other people struggle too; there is no reason to have to shove parenting struggles down deep and suffer alone; by bringing it to light, talking about it, hearing other people's struggles...there is relief there.
Right now we are still in the cooling off period, but I know by tonight everything will be back to normal, and I know this will happen again at some point. It's not the first time, today.
I really wish that there was some way to end this feud between brothers, but I have not found anything that works even a little bit yet. It has been going on for years, and in all honesty, their relationship is the one thing that I can say is and has been the very worst thing that I've had to deal with in my entire life. Nothing makes me feel the way that having to defend one of my children from another one of my children makes me feel.