Don’t show fear.
That is what they tell you when confronted by an angry dog.
Or a bear.
Or a rampaging out of control full meltdowning six foot four man child.
Look deep into his eyes and speak softly.
MPS gifted me with a fabulously long sleep in this morning. Ten minutes more and it would have been afternoon.
Man, did I need it.
I wandered out to find my boys on their various i devices and announced that I was going to make cookies, asking Boo to preheat the oven (we are working on self sufficiency at the moment, using the oven the current theme) while I went and brushed my teeth and got dressed.
It all went to shit from there.
In a nutshell he didn’t want to and things escalated to him being sent to his room twice, the second time for punching me (lightly) in the stomach and pushing me.
It is hard to not show fear when someone who could easily beat you to death and then calmly go and make a sandwich, is standing over you screaming that they will not do what you say.
It is hard to remain expressionless when his voice is ringing in your ears. Deep and booming, just like his fathers.
It is hard to not just let him get his own way and not try and discipline him for something that in the first instance was so benign, and then escalated into manipulation and bullying on his part.
I have to let go of that instinctual fear.
Know that todays battles will prevent this happening outside of the home.
Where police will be called.
Where all people will see is an angry man standing over a greying more every damn day woman, and not an overwhelmed confused toddler trying to make sense of these feelings that he has no control over.
These are the thoughts that careen through my head as the spittle hits my cheek and the accusing finger grazes my face.
Poker face. Don’t show fear.
Right now he is in his room for the third? time.
Any minute now he will come out when his punishment time is up, and stand over me silently screaming because the rule is he can come out if he doesn’t scream at me.
Funny how rigid with rules he can be, and so fucking smart at circumventing them.
The entire day will be consumed by this back and forth, until he recognises the initial reason he was sent to his room.
Lying and bullying.
Not the punch. Or the screaming. Or the pushing.
They stemmed from him not wanting to acknowledge that he lied.
Anyone not living this life would be astonished that THIS is the point I am harping on.
That all he has to do is acknowledge that he lied and everything will be fine.
But that is life with a man sized 5 year old.
Time is up.
Let the games begin.