We had an angry evening in my house last night. The voggy weather does not help. Instead of paradise with visions of palm trees swaying in breezy tradewinds, the air is still and muggy. Nothing moves and sweating occurs just by sitting around. Unpleasant comes to mind. My son had been off this day and the one before. Teacher training days, the kind of days off that irritate parents to no end. They have no rhyme or reason and leave us scrambling for child care. He had spent yesterday afternoon at the beach, had eaten McDonald’s two days in row (maybe for the first time ever) and was potentially a bit sleep deprived. And then it was sticky, muggy hot. All of this put him in a bad mood. Sometimes when he is in a bad mood he turns into snarky 7 year old. This was one of those times.
Anger manifests itself in different ways in different people. I am generally a calm and patient person but there is little to no room for snarkiness in my book; especially when everyone around you is trying to be caring and helpful. We sat down to do homework, alphabetizing his spelling words. It was fine until he had gotten all the way to the “L’s” and realized he had forgotten a word way at the top of the alphabet. He just snapped. He picked up his paper and went into the bedroom where he spoke disrespectfully to his dad. Dad has been a bit high strung lately for a few reasons. This makes him less patient; less willing to tolerate snarky behavior. The situation quickly devolved to angry words and ugly behavior. My son was upset at what had transpired in the bedroom and came back out to the kitchen table where, instead of seeing the error of his ways, continued his bad behavior despite my soothing words and calm demeanor. The end result was crumpled up homework, crying, hurt feelings and then the silent treatment.
When I am angry I tend to act just like my mother. Sound just like her. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. Her big claim to fame is decorating the shrubs in front of the house I grew up in with the clothes that I had not picked up off my bedroom floor. Underwear included (I had been warned). Thanks mom! So it is understandable that my son’s dad, my significant other, sometimes acts a bit like his dad when he gets angry. This is not a good thing. I
struggle whether writing about this is OK or not. While I do not feel that it is my place to write personally about anyone else’s family, what if it is impacting my family? But again, who am I to crack open someone else’s family history to reveal things that rarely see the light of day? So, I think no, not today.
Suffice to say that there were heart to heart discussions today. There was talk of anger management. Talk of what would happen next time. Promises that there would be no next time. Talk of feelings and of reactions. They were good conversations that had to take place. And certainly, what happened at my house, with my family last night, was nowhere near as bad as you may be thinking, but it was bad for me because it was new. A new I never wanted to know. And hopefully won’t see again.