The words boot camp or drill Sargent should be enough to scare anyone, right?
Special Breed
Yeah, not my boys. They love to flirt with danger. At least when it comes to how bad they act out. The last six months have been extremely hard on them. They have made it very well-known that they are bugged out by everything.
Which don’t get me wrong, I understand it to the fullest. But it is not an open door for them to raise six different kinds of hell. Hello?!?! It’s only going to make a bad situation worse. Not cleaning up, not listening to adults, trying to play everyone against each other….come on now!
All of us adults were kids at one point. We thought we were slick shit and that nothing could touch us. Well, guess what boys, we found out the same jacked up way that you are finding out. And we SURVIVED! I can promise we are not asking anything of you, we ourselves would not do. It is that simple.
Do dishes, vacuum, take out the trash, really not that hard to do. I can promise you that the things I did growing up, not only sucked, but they were a direct result of my enormous dumbassary, and not owning up to the fact that I screwed up.
Bad Influences
I wasn’t exactly the most well-behaved girl in the world growing up. Single father constantly at work, a grandfather who passed well before his time (and was the glue holding the family together), and a grandmother that drank her weight in alcohol every night especially after grandpa died.
I thought I could get away with it all. Sneaking out, doing stupid crap with people I really had no business being involved with. But my worst habit of all (and I did get away with it for quite a long while) stealing. Yes, pick your jaws up off the desk, I admit to being a little thief growing up.
No White Picket Fence
With the mess I call a childhood, I acted out a lot, and in my eyes (especially at the time) it was for good reason. My father was an emotionless ghost who was never around, my mother….well my mother is a breed of stupid all her own. I still have nightmares to this day about some of the things she did.
It also didn’t help that there was a mile long record of police reports by the time my father finally got us away. And then the one person I could always turn to, died without even being able to say goodbye. I didn’t know what to do, nothing in my life was “normal” I tried to get my father’s attention in the stupidest ways. And now I see my kids doing the same thing.
History Repeats
Acting out for the lack of attention and caring from their father, as well as the lack of attention from myself. And the lack of attention from me is not anything short of me having to clean up messes that their father made. I get being upset and not knowing how to express how you feel, but to act out and behave the way that they have been is just so frustrating.
I have gone above and beyond what I had growing up. Dealing with the same, if not worse situations. Yet E feels the need to show me how much like me his is becoming. Testing every limit he is able to, seeing how far he can go before I lose it. He has really pushed his line. Now, I’m not holding my breath. But at least at this point, J & J don’t seem to have the same issues as E. They just have piss poor attitudes towards everyone they come in contact with. And the language, do I really have to say? Didn’t figure I would. So that being said….
Tried Everything
I’ve been nice, I have tried to speak with kindness and love. But hey, my kids are my kids, they don’t know how to handle it coming from the softer side of things. So…I get to strap my kickers on and start showing them how bad it really could be. And I don’t think they are really going to like it. But that is just fine with me. I am their mother first, friend second.
If it kills me, I will make sure that my boys are not only good little humans, but respectful of people, animals, food, clothes, toys, money the list goes on. So what I wanna know is, do you have a kiddo or a teen stomping what’s left of that very last nerve of yours? Oh, you do huh, well comment below or message me and let me know what you go through or how you have been able to work through it.