Getting the Hag Out of His Hair

It might seem like I'm talking about John with a title like that, but I'm not, even though I do think he's looking forward to his time alone a little too much. He's not the problem right now. The problem is my firstborn child. He is currently in his room, cleaning and crying. I yelled at him, but even a little yelling isn't enough to send him into such a tizzy. What's really got him wallowing in self-pity is a beach towel. Really, two. Two beach towels? Yes, two beach towels.

Over the past couple weeks, Hammy went swimming with a friend of his. Both times, he left his towel at Jesse's house. I knew about one. I did not know about the other one. The second towel wasn't even his own. Yesterday, when I let the kids go swimming in the pool, I asked Hammy about his towel, and he said he probably left that one at Jesse's along with the one that was already there. Instead of heading up there right then and getting both towels, he proceeded to swim as if he didn't need a towel and would somehow magically dry off. I reminded him to get the towel later, but he still didn't do it.

We arrive at today where we are packing to leave for Nebraska, with Hammy to be gone a whole month. I told the kids if they got their rooms clean, they would be able to swim later. Again, I asked about the towels. Again, he told me they were at Jesse's house, like there was nothing at all wrong with that. So I told him that unless he had a towel with which to dry off, there would be no swimming for him. That's when the laundry list of excuses came. Jesse's not even home. I can use a bath towel. What am I supposed to do? I don't know if Jesse's dad is even home. Jesse is gone and not coming back for a long time. Jesse's dad works and sometimes doesn't even come home until after seven... and variations of those. He tried to go up to the house, but no one was home. I told him to leave a note, in case the dad did get home. Hammy hasn't left the house. Instead he cries and moans and grumbles. He has very little of his room clean and didn't even really start working on that until I yelled at him again. He doesn't have much incentive to clean now that his pool privilege has been revoked until towel appearance.

Sure, I feel mean and nasty, but his forgetfulness is something that needs improved. It caused problems in school, and it will continue to cause problems for him unless he gets it at least a little under control now. My letting it slide has only let it get worse, and I'm doing him no favors at all that way. I would like to spend our last day here at home in peace, love, and happiness, but life doesn't stop handing out lessons just because we're driving a thousand miles in the next couple days. Maybe the bigger the consequences, the better he will learn. That only remains to be seen. So far, he only seems to feel sorry for himself. I wonder if wringing his self-pitying little neck would do the trick.

Like he needed another reason, this will probably make him even happier to spend three weeks with his dad and family. They always put on the perfect family face when he's there, and he ends up coming home an absolute brat. He gets spoiled rotten and sees those three weeks of blissful adoration as the model for what life would be like living there. He comes home and sprouts a second head for us, making the transition back all that much harder. I usually spend the next month or so after he comes home wishing that he stayed there too. I miss him when he's gone, but I miss the real him, not the pampered, naive little monster that comes home at first.

I really don't need the extra torture. It's bad enough that I feel like a witch by not making his last day at home all fun and play. I hate having him away from me so long too. Even though he comes home a rotten beast, I still love him. I miss him like crazy. I get hurt that he thinks living in Nebraska with his dad's family would be better than living here with me, even if I know it's not as great as he thinks it is. I have a running mantra in my head right now that I'm being a good parent by teaching him what he needs to learn. But that self-pitying part of myself is wondering why he had to pick today to learn his stupid lesson.