A sense of security and wellbeing was created for me when this morning started out fairly well. And after last night’s parent teacher night I was feeling pretty good. I have always dreaded parent teacher night, but at the school Damien’s attending now they’ve mostly gone pretty well. It’s amazing what the right school can do for a kid! His portfolio work in class and his homework is mostly between 70 and 95 percent- which is mind-blowing for Damien, and I told him as much. His report- which displayed only test scores last term- was dismal. So he needs to revise more. And his teachers really like him. His Afrikaans teacher unfortunately still doesn’t get him, and he loves to push her buttons. Her asking in class where a fun place to have a party would be, has her on the brink of calling in an exorcist when Damien suggests a graveyard!
I have asked him to stop picking on her.
So I felt generally at ease when I switched off my alarm.
Sadly, the seeming tranquility was a farce, and very quickly dissolved.
I haven’t whined too much about the knucklehead of late… mostly because he’s been okay… but also because sometimes it feels like that’s all I do!
So lemme elaborate on today shall I?
My alarm goes off at 5h45, and I sleepily greet Taxi who is still asleep on my chest. I lie there blinking; thinking about how it’s a little chilly and surprisingly light and wondering what day it is.
Without switching on any lights I start to wake Damien up. I usually do this by calling his name softly till he answers me. Then I try to keep him talking till I am convinced he’s awake and won’t go back to sleep. I warn him I’m going to switch on the light and remind him again that its time to get up. He was up and moving shortly after that, so I started doing my thing.
Then I’m brushing my teeth and I go through to check on Damien, he’s in the lounge putting his school jacket over his “Punisher” T-shirt. I say “…uh uh- school shirt sweetie.” He looks down, smiles sorta sheepishly and goes off to get his shirt.
So far so good.
Then I am in the living room, pulling my boots on and he comes back in his school shirt and starts to put on another jacket. I say to him, “Sweetie, school jacket please.”
And just like that, my hitherto peaceful morning is over.
Can you see where things went haywire?
He exploded and from there on out everything was an argument! He told me he refused to wear the school jacket AND the school shirt and that he could wear the other jacket. I insisted he put on the correct one. He did, and then put the other one over the top, flopped onto the couch, plugged his earphones in and pulled the hood over his face.
Now I’m about ready to blow a fuse.
I tap him on the knee and when he looks at me I remind him that he’s only allowed to wear one earphone at home so he can hear me when I talk to him.
“THIS SUX! YOU NEVER LET ME LISTEN TO MY MUSIC!”
I ignore this little exaggeration and ask him if he’s had his meds.
“NO!” and off he stomps.
Before I have a chance to make sure he’s taking it he’s been to the kitchen and back!
I ask him where his meds is because I didn’t hear the container thingy, and he shows me he’s emptied them all into the side zip pocket on the bag he takes to Glugs’ place!
I ask him where the bottle is and he ignores me.
He again has both earphones in his ears.
I tap him on the shoulder and tell him if he uses both earphones again I’m going to confiscate them.
He yells at me “THIS SUX!”
I walked away before I belted him one across the mouth.
I brought back an empty pill bottle from my bedroom and asked him please to repack his meds.
He snatches the bottle and proceeds to stuff the meds in muttering and complaining under his breath.
I tell him that from now on- as we used to do- he and I will take our meds together so I can be sure he’s taking it.
“YOU NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I TELL YOU!”
My god… are the television script writers no longer on strike? This is like something out of a PG13 drama starring Susan Sarandon as an unemployed, divorced and dying stepmom!
He grabs his bag and grumbles that he’ll meet me at the car. As he stomps past me I ask if he has his art book and art supplies. He yells again that it’s at school and I grab his shoulder and tell him to shake the shit off his shoes before I REALLY lose my temper, because by now I have shouted at him a couple of times as well.
He then waits for me at the door as I grab my bags and then when I tell him to go through the door before me because my keys are behind him he flounces off down the corridor slamming doors as he goes.
He was at the car already when I got there and when we got in and he slammed my car door I looked at him and asked him fot the wuck had crawled up his nose!!!
“You screw up my life. I don’t wanna talk about it!” was his reply.
I was almost speechless for a moment, but I recovered beautifully and retorted with the following gem: “Stop talking shit Damien. You have nothing to complain about.”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” was his counter.
I replied with “Fine.”
I then went to pick up da Bruvva and the dude Damien usually goes to school with as his mom had asked if I could take them today.
Oh joy, another 30 minutes or so with Mr Cheerful…
He was so bad tempered that even da Bruvva was about ready to backhand him by the time we dropped them off at school!
I think I’ll work late today.