I wonder if
this is what Anne Frank felt like…trapped in your home, on limited rations, and
trying to escape your innermost thoughts and feelings all while being openly
persecuted? Granted, her situation was much more serious, I’m just bitching
about summer break. These kids are trying to kill me, and not in a humane way
either. The fighting and constant disappointment are taking its toll on every
aspect of my life. I wonder if they even realize it.
I find
myself hiding in the bathroom and waiting for them to forget that I’m home. I
eat constantly and daydream of school buses and sack lunches.It hasn’t worked
yet but I’m not a quitter. Thus far this has been the worst summer ever…that is
truly a statement in light of some of the summers past.
Matthew is in love…I feel him slowly slipping
away from me, Wyatt won’t shut up and won’t get away from me or anyone else for
that matter. Cooper has developed his own style of warfare and he is vicious
(Geneva Convention type shit), and Charleigh Joe is just trying to make her way.
Now that
Matthew is courting, he is taking on much more responsibility…only when he
thinks it can benefit him. His lady friend seems like a nice girl but of course
he’ll always be my boy. He seems to keep growing. He is mammoth, he towers over
us and like all teenage boys has a voracious appetite. Jeremy is convinced that
we should have surprised him in the night and beat the shit out of him about 2
years ago just to show him we could. I’m not so sure we could anymore, even if
we took him by surprise…with a mob and a bag of golf clubs.
Wyatt
continues to talk…not just talk, but his mouth is constant. It’s like living
with Rush Limbaugh with a bubble butt. I could not even begin to process the amount
of facts that he spews constantly. Who doesn’t want to talk about the average
rainfall in the Amazon or which fighter planes had the most success in World
War II? I know! Such a wealth of information that he wants to discuss mostly at
the most inconvenient or inappropriate times, such as a funeral or when being
questioned by a police officer.
I really know that his gift of gab will
eventually get him somewhere, just not anytime soon. He continues to amaze me
with how odd he can turn a simple conversation. What can I say, he is like a
politician without a party or even a message. I’m sure that part will come.
This summer has been a trying one for Jeremy
and me with the middle children. They seems to CONSTANTLY argue. Most of the
time it is over stupid shit ( not a real surprise as children could care less
about Obamacare or ISIS), and the rest of the time it is for no reason. They
have gotten physical and each has landed their blows. The problem is that
nothing is ever resolved. Wyatt, aka “The Court Reporter” is able to read back
the minutes to every single conversation that has been spoken in this house, at
any given time. He is always listening. He is famous for bringing up old shit
for another round of fighting. This is definite proof that he is my child. What
can I say, I turned out ok, right?
Cooper has entered
a whole new stage in his life. He is starting to be able to control his
impulsivity, at times. Which is a good thing. He has not been known in the past
for his self-control. He is also beginning to retaliate against his bullies,
namely his brother Wyatt. His older brother has long been an adversary and
bully and since Cooper is quite a small fellow, he has learned to use his brain
instead of his fists.
Just recently I heard an
argument and went to put out the flames when Wyatt met me in the hallway. He
explained that Cooper had ruined his boots. Of course, I knew there was a
second part of the story. When I questioned Cooper about it, he informed me
that he was tired of Wyatt pushing him around and that Wyatt was not his boss.
It seems that the fight started over Wyatt not sharing his XBOX privileges as
he was supposed to.
Wyatt was
just itching to get his part of the story out to defer the attention of his
behavior onto the negative behavior of his brother. I soon figured out that
Cooper had retaliated… he shit in Wyatt’s boot. While I was secretly in awe of
how one arrives at that course of action, I had to discuss this infraction with
the youngest male Neville. I told him that I realized that Wyatt could be
trying, and that defecating in his brother’s boot was a profound idea of
revenge. I then however had to explain that it was inappropriate and that pink
eye is no joke.
As with
every family has their struggles, I’m not so sure that any family has ever had
to have the “don’t shit in your brother’s boot” talk with their child. While I secretly
think that was a genius idea, I cannot encourage it. All I can do is explain to
him that it was wrong and tell Wyatt to always check his shoes before he dons
them, especially when he’s been an asshole to his brother.
Thus when
this summer comes to an end, I will not be sad. I will be ecstatic, especially
if I make it the entire season without anyone going to jail, the emergency
room, or to a juvenile detention center. I will feel accomplished in that I have
succeeded once more to do as best I could in light of the circumstances.
To all those
parents who wish that summer could last a few more weeks, FUCK YOU. I’m on the
verge of a CNN story as it is. If you love having your children home all
summer, by all means come and relieve me of a few of my crew. All that I ask is
that you invite my children to share in the festivities that you have so successfully
entertained your children with. Show me how you have done it without alcohol,
benzodiazepines, and counseling. Perhaps you could direct me to your Pinterest
board on parenting…
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