At the End of my Rope
I’m at the end of it.
Our son is about to cause the first ever simultaneous aneurysm-stroke-heart attack-mental breakdown. I honestly don’t know where to go from here with him….
He just turned 10. And I know 10 year olds are not exactly the most truthful creatures on the planet. But the lying to avoid work is going to have to end. You know, if we’re going to make 11 without trading him in for a llama. He happened to mention last night in the car on the way home from the day of FANTASMIC FUN* we just gave him that he was supposed to fill a coffee can with items from the book he was supposed to read.
Excuse me what? What book? What can? WHEN IS THIS DUE?
He took his agenda to hubby and as hubby was flipping through he finds a very large scratched out area….clearly with adult writing underneath. Thankfully son hasn’t figured out how to do these things with any skill yet and he scratched it out with pencil. Hello eraser? Sigh. Turns out he had LIED to his teacher and told her we made him stay up all night reading and he was too tired to do his work.
It makes us look bad and him look all Tiny Tim-like. I give him props for invention.
And then I take them back and beat him with them! (no not really, people relax).
I emailed the teacher; used my screechy voice on son… and he’s on ‘life sucks so hard I should listen to my parents from now on’ lock-down. This has been a very long phase. A miserable, make me hate the parenting aspect of parenting kind of phase. We punish each and every time we find he has lied to us. And trust me, I’m a hard ass. Clearly whatever we are doing isn’t working.
Telling him he’ll get in less trouble for telling the truth? Doesn’t work. Soap in the mouth after 3 chances to tell the truth? Doesn’t work. Losing video games and TV? Doesn’t work.
How do you deal with lying and work avoidance?
’Cause that llama is looking better and better every day.
*FANTASMIC FUN: We drove 90 minutes outside of the city to visit with friends, hold raccoons, play with a baby COUGAR, play with lemurs, catch bunnies, hand-feed brown bears and pet a timber wolf. THEN bought a slurpee and chips to tide him over until dinner out and a walk-through Toys R Us.
I’m working (term used loosely) full time as a legal assistant, married to a cop, raising two kids who despite our attempts at suppression are stubbornly strong willed, and living in a busy city longing for the simple life. My sense of humor is very… well, not normal. I am NOT June Cleaver. In fact, I think I single-handedly killed the ghost of June Cleaver and then stomped on the corpse.