Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

They say that your child is a reflection of you. Well, after last week, I beg to differ.

Back in the day, my Dad would totally take credit for only the good shit that I did. Great report card? I was HIS daughter. Scholarship? HIS daughter. (Note: this was only to brag to other people, he never really patted me on the back for any of that because that would be asking WAY TOO MUCH.) Pretty much anything else and I was immediately my mother's daughter. This always drove me crazy. Until last week. I totally get it now.

Man, that full moon had my son all discombobulated and when I tell you that my LAST nerve is still trying to grow back, I am not lying. It is amazing that either one of us lived to see this week. I loved it so much, I'm going to re-live it right here on this blog with you.

Monday. EPIC fit at play group. In one fell swoop he hit someone in the face and kicked another. I had to put him in the bathroom for a bit so as not to break the sound barrier from the horrid, bloody murder screams as he got busted and put in the longest timeout of his entire four year life. I generally do not hit or kick people at random and I certainly do not scream like that.

Tuesday. We went out to dinner with friends. The child is obviously feral. I could not keep up, what with the extremely loud outdoor voice, the feet on the table, the eating directly from the plate with no utensils and the getting out of his seat every 1.3 seconds. This was naturally made worse by the woman at the next table whose son was perfectly well behaved and an obvious graduate of the Miss Manners etiquette academy. Her glare made me feel like a hooker in church. I am generally well behaved in restaurants and eat with utensils. On occasion, I use a napkin.

Wednesday. Soccer. Complete refusal to play or follow directions of any kind. It was like a bench warming and water break lesson. I generally play well with others. That could be a lie.

Thursday. Swim lessons. This is usually where my son shines. Notsomuch this past week. I think he was in time-out more than he was part of the lesson. The best part? He was trying his darnedest to get the other kids to follow...and it worked! Like little minions, they hung on his every word. The looks you get when your kid refuses to grab the wall and flutters his arms all around while yelling, "I can't swim, I can't swim!" The looks are even worse when he emerges, laughing his ass off. I am pretty sure it was the longest half hour of his swim teacher's life. There were at least three visits from three different deck monitors to attend to his chaos. I generally do not fake my own drowning in the middle of a crowded pool.

Friday. Capped off the week by being 3 for 3 in getting in trouble at school. He was very up front about this and offered it up immediately, almost as if he was proud. He makes no apologies for hating school and thinking it's boring. Definitely not a teacher pleaser, that's for sure. I never got in trouble at school. Well, I never got caught.

What I didn't post about was all the in-between time of last week. The yelling just to yell. The talking back being at an all time high. The shit talking under his breath. The constant smart ass comments. Somebody has obviously run off with his hearing because he's got a severe listening impairment.

Most weeks I would tell you that my child is just like me, but not last week. I will not accept last week as a reflection of me, in general or as a parent. I blame the full moon. I'll pretty much blame anything at this point, 'cause I am not taking credit for his behavior last week. I'm not, I'm not, I'm NOT!