Tired of the Crap.

I am fed up, I don’t want to hear him tell his sister once more that she is fat.  I’ve tried to explain to him how that hurts her, he doesn’t care.  I tried to be nice about it and all politically correct and let him know that he’s killing her inside a little bit every time he says that to her.  He doesn’t care.
So this morning when he once more stole her hat just for the sake of taking it away and causing problems and then turned around and called her fat when I gave him hell for being a brat I turned around and gave him a quick little smack.  Not a hard hit, not the kind of hit that actually gave him any pain, but it hurt his feelings and he wasn’t happy about it.  Good!
Then he sits around the house for an hour ‘thinking‘ about what the hell he wants for lunch today.  I haven’t been working since mid-October really, and I’ve been keeping costs down by minimizing the lunch meat selection, which translates into I only bought two kinds of sandwich meats instead of three or four and then ending up throwing out a few slices from each kind.
So he stands in the kitchen, all moody and grumpy and giving me attitude because he’s pissed that I’m not doing things the way he wants them.  I tell him to make his lunch and he spins around and yells in my face, “I’m thinking about what I want.”
So I go through the choices, and he practically spits in my face “I don’t like want any of that!”  You notice that his words are ‘want‘ and not ‘like‘, he’s just being difficult and I’m so fed up with him, I pushed him out of the kitchen and told him that if that’s the way he felt then he could either come home for lunch, but with the way he’s been acting that means that I’m not making him a thing so he’d have to fix whatever it is he wants, or he can shut up and just take something or he can go without a lunch today.  I don’t really give a shit.
Yup, mother of the year award goes to….[drumroll] Kat!
I’m so tired of this, all week I’ve been dealing with a kid that treats me like a piece of shit.  Yesterday after school he was a bit better at first, and I was dumb and allowed him to use the computer.  Not going to happen today.
I’ve already told him that he’s grounded, in his bedroom.  He’ll be cleaning up his room, which I wanted him to do yesterday but he promised he’d do it on the weekend instead and so we made a deal.  Not anymore, he’s going to scrub that bedroom down.  Wash the window, clean his blinds and whatever else I decide is necessary!
After that’s done, he’s grounded to his bed.  He can read a book, stare at the walls, I don’t really care but he’s not leaving that bed unless it’s to go to school, eat dinner or do his chores.  I’m so fed up with his attitude.
His sister left without him today.  He’s stomping around here right now trying to bait me into engaging him, trying to get me to tell him off for his bad behaviour right now.  He just slammed his shoes onto my coffee table, thinking that would make me jump out of my seat and rush into that room to tell him off.
Sorry kid, that’s one sturdy table.  You aren’t going to damage it by beating it with your runners, and so what if you do.  I hate that monstrosity, I always have.  His Dad bought it one day when he was out with a friend and it’s too big and heavy and I want rid of it.  It’s his Dad that loves that table, so go ahead get on Dad’s bad side as well as my own.
See that’s the other thing about this that pisses me off.  The moment his Dad walks through the door he instantly transforms into his old self.  It’s like living with Jekyll and Hyde, with me he’s the out of control monster and with his Dad he’s this shy, unassuming little man.
I’m tired of him, I’m tired of his behaviour and I’m tired of writing about this.
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About katastrophes1

Kat is a 20 something girl stuck in a 40 something body. Mom to 3 kids, tormented and amused by 3 crazy dogs. Amateur photographer, self taught crochet junkie. Thinker of crazy thoughts. Where do they come from? Who knows where thoughts occur, they just happen!
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