July 7, 2011 by Kim
“Boys will be boys”
I find myself saying that to Hubs a lot as our sons get older.
I try not to interfere too much in their little day-to-day scuffles.
The way I see it, they need to figure out how to handle confrontation on their own.
Needless to say, if things start to get out of hand, I will step in.
My sons handle their anger in the usual ways…
Tattling… As soon as I hear that familiar sing-song “I’m telling mooooom” I sing right back to them that “Mooooom doesn’t want to hear iiiiit” that might even be followed up with a gruff “Handle your business”
Arguing… This gets really old really fast. To put it simply, I still don’t want to hear it. If you’re going to argue… can you do it in a hushed tone, please and thank you. Anthony gets heated really fast… it’s hilarious to watch him try to “whisper argue” with Daniel… what will start out as a normal petty argument will escalate quickly due to Ant’s annoyance with the lowered voices.
Coming to Blows… This rarely happens at all. I think the children know that Momma ain’t gonna put herself at risk and will break up a fight using a chair in a heartbeat. I have always told these boys, I don’t care HOW much bigger than me you get… if you EVER want to put your hands on me, I will beat you with a piece of furniture. End of story.
…and then there’s Dickie. As mentioned before in this blog, Dickie is a force to be reckoned with. At times I feel that I do not even have a clue how to raise this child.
Hell. On. Wheels.
Dickie has a tumultuous relationship with the older boys. He loves them as long as every little thing is going his exact specified way. If not, he hates them with a firey passion that I have never seen before. I believe Dickie decided, long ago, that he should have been an only child… and how DARE these little bastards foil that for him.
Recently Dickie’s rage was centered on Daniel. I’m not even sure what had happened. I doubt anyone is sure of what had happened. To be honest, sometimes NOTHING has to happen. We all live under Dickie Law in this house.
So, anyways…. Dickie was angry with Daniel… Daniel had probably cut Dickie’s sandwich into squares instead of triangles… or was refusing to watch Dickie play computer games…. At the peak of Dickie’s rage-fest he grabbed the fireplace poker…
He rushed towards the wall which displays all the boy’s school pictures and attacked Daniel’s photo with much force… trying to knock it to the ground.
Somehow, despite the ruckus, the picture remained
and Dickie admitted defeat.
I’m not sure what Dickie was thinking… I guess it’s better the picture was the recipient of Dickie’s attack, rather than Daniel…
Maybe Dickie thought that if the picture fell down, Daniel would be banished???
Later that night, as I thought about the incident, I was reminded of an eerily similar occurence from the early days of Hubs and my marriage.
We were fighting about something…
Someone was wrong and someone was right.
We refused to agree on which was which.
During the climax of our battle, Hubs grabbed our marriage certificate and pushed it down into the paper shredder…
I stared at him in awe.
I had truly met my match.
Later that night, after things had settled to a dull roar… I broke the news to him that despite his valiant and creative move, we were indeed still married.