This is a confession. It has been a lifetime since I confessed to anyone. This morning as I drove to work my throat was practically bleeding from screaming at my eldest son. Bleeding...
I heard him, the other day, on the phone planning a sickie and when he started to tell me he felt ill last night I girded my loins for trouble. In our house you don't get a day off school or work unless you are vomiting or bleeding all over the carpet and it takes a mastermind crossed with the acting ability of Robert Downey Junior to get past me.
So, the huffing and puffing last night and the early night didn't cut it. Especially as he was still listening to the football on the radio until 10pm. When I went in to get him up this morning he told me he felt sick and couldn't possibly go to school ...
I'm afraid I gave him short shrift. It is the classic tale of the boy who cried wolf ... he has attempted to pull the wool over my eyes (unsuccessfully) so many times that I have no patience. He forgets that I have known him for 14 years and have nursed him through various bouts of genuine illness, from chicken pox to tummy bugs. I have mopped his brow and his vomit at all times of day and night. I have sat up with him stroking his hair until he slept.
So I am the wrong person to try to trick when it comes to illness. It does you no favours to borrow the thermometer and hold it under the cold tap and then come downstairs complaining of a temperature. As I said to him "You look remarkably well for a boy in the last stages of hypothermia ..."
This morning I am afraid that his refusal to go to school was greeted with less than usual humour from me. As his protestations went from light groaning to full scale "You are EVIL!!!!" I could take no more. I am a good mum. I am patient, understanding and prone to helping with homework, but today he was right ... I was evil.
I screamed at him. The dam of my emotions burst and I turned into a screaming, shrieking lunatic. I told him that if he hadn't left for school before I left for work I would phone the school and tell them he was refusing to go. I told him the x-box was gone until the end of February and as my heart beat in my chest like a battering hammer my final words before I swept from the room were "If I die of a heart attack right here on your carpet, it will be your fault!!!!!"
Oh, good grief ...
And this from a mother who had vowed never to tell her children even to "Shut up".
He dressed and left for school on time.
p.s. We have talked calmly since this. We have apologised to each other and I have enquired what problems he has at school - none. I have informed him that honesty is the best policy and we have both told each other we love each other. My throat is still sore .... I may have to have a couple of days off work ...
I heard him, the other day, on the phone planning a sickie and when he started to tell me he felt ill last night I girded my loins for trouble. In our house you don't get a day off school or work unless you are vomiting or bleeding all over the carpet and it takes a mastermind crossed with the acting ability of Robert Downey Junior to get past me.
So, the huffing and puffing last night and the early night didn't cut it. Especially as he was still listening to the football on the radio until 10pm. When I went in to get him up this morning he told me he felt sick and couldn't possibly go to school ...
I'm afraid I gave him short shrift. It is the classic tale of the boy who cried wolf ... he has attempted to pull the wool over my eyes (unsuccessfully) so many times that I have no patience. He forgets that I have known him for 14 years and have nursed him through various bouts of genuine illness, from chicken pox to tummy bugs. I have mopped his brow and his vomit at all times of day and night. I have sat up with him stroking his hair until he slept.
So I am the wrong person to try to trick when it comes to illness. It does you no favours to borrow the thermometer and hold it under the cold tap and then come downstairs complaining of a temperature. As I said to him "You look remarkably well for a boy in the last stages of hypothermia ..."
This morning I am afraid that his refusal to go to school was greeted with less than usual humour from me. As his protestations went from light groaning to full scale "You are EVIL!!!!" I could take no more. I am a good mum. I am patient, understanding and prone to helping with homework, but today he was right ... I was evil.
I screamed at him. The dam of my emotions burst and I turned into a screaming, shrieking lunatic. I told him that if he hadn't left for school before I left for work I would phone the school and tell them he was refusing to go. I told him the x-box was gone until the end of February and as my heart beat in my chest like a battering hammer my final words before I swept from the room were "If I die of a heart attack right here on your carpet, it will be your fault!!!!!"
Oh, good grief ...
And this from a mother who had vowed never to tell her children even to "Shut up".
He dressed and left for school on time.
p.s. We have talked calmly since this. We have apologised to each other and I have enquired what problems he has at school - none. I have informed him that honesty is the best policy and we have both told each other we love each other. My throat is still sore .... I may have to have a couple of days off work ...
