Smells Like Teen Spirit

First some small talk... idle chit-chat:

The winter has been warmer than usual. Forty degree days rather than minus ten. I don't think, even as a child, I've ever experienced anything quite like this. Wuh-eird.

Also, there must a constant full moon rather than the moon going through its' normal cycles. The kids are just being consistently at war - with each other - and me! In fact, I think I've developed a possible ulcer due to the super-extreme stress that I've been under. Being a temporary single mother of four is not for the meek. It's a constant struggle to "stay calm and pick my battles", because you know? Every so often (and by "every so often" I mean at least once a day) at least one of the kids crosses the line and I get angry.

I believe myself to be a fair mother. I don't pick out any one child to take out my wrath on. In fact, it's usually dragged out of me. The usual spiral effect... It goes something like this:

Allow me to paint you a picture: A mother of four (don't forget that she's temporarily single, dealing with the children, her job and all household matters completely on her own), tired after work as she drives to the high school to pick up her two oldest children. One of which has been told repeatedly to stay at a specific entrance so that he can utilize the windows giving himself the capability to watch for his mother to pull up so that she will not have to wait for him or park and get out of the car to go into the high school to look for him.

After two teens are in the car (finally), it's now on our merry way to Nona's house to pick up the youngest child, "Princess". Please also keep in mind that third child is waiting at home alone, which makes me very uncomfortable, but second child does not seem to ever register the urgency in mother's tone and body language.

Princess is secure in her carseat and we are now finally on our way home. Princess has already exhibited signs of crank-itis, which in most cases, would warn anyone within a 15-foot radius (or the closer proximity of a Honda Pilot) to steer clear and stay out of her face. Teenage son decides for whatever reason, to lean over and put his face within two inches of Princess's face (literally). Well of course that what he does. After experiencing this exact type of phenomena repeatedly over the past several years, really since he discovered the immense joy of screaming sisters, I've come to realize that this is simply human-boy nature. So, of course, I calmly say "Stop!" Wishing with all my might, but knowing that it's not going to stop there.

She smacks him, with a very padded, mittened hand.
He bellows back at her (he still thinks his deep voice is cool as he has not quite grown into the mental maturity of coming to grips with getting older).
"Stop!" I yell, this time a little louder.
"No!" he answers (yells) back. "I'm just supposed to let her hit me in the face?"
"She wouldn't feel the need to hit you in the face if your face weren't in her face. Just leave. Her. Alone!"

... And like I said.... here comes the spiral...

Our lovely evening is now a mother-son verbal brawl. I know I should just send him to his room, right? Easier, oh so much easier said than done. The kid just doesn't back down. Quite often I can get him in his room, but not without several attempts, from both of us, at getting the last word. He just doesn't quit. I hate that I'm the one that needs to secede. I'm the one that needs to ignore the last comment and be content with the fact that he's in his room.

He simply won't accept that when I'm yelling at him, it's not because I hate him, it's not because he's a boy and I don't like boys, it's not because I like hearing myself yell. Rather quite the opposite I think. I would very much prefer that we all have a nice quiet evening actually. I'm yelling to get his attention, to try to make him listen - so he will know in the shortest amount of time possible that I'm disciplining him for his disrespectful behavior.

Bad behavior = punishment!

It's so, so simple. I don't understand why kids need to make this punishment thing so complex. Mommy wants to come home from work, have dinner, relax and actually enjoy the evening. Mommy doesn't want to argue about anything with anybody. But neither does Mommy want to hear her children terrorize each other, and Mommy doesn't want to hear disrespect being hurled from their mouths, and Mommy really doesn't want any throwing, door slamming, feet pounding, yelling, etc.

I've tried to reason with them. They aren't two years old anymore so naturally I figured they could understand reasoning. I've reminded them that I, too, was a teenager. I have a sibling with whom I shared not only a room, but I also shared a closet, a bathroom and a bed with her until we were young teens. I've told them that there were times my sister and I fought, but more often, because we were for the most part, pretty decent kids, we silently hated each other. So, as I said, I've tried to reason with my kids.

Sadly, they really don't seem to care that Mom once went through the teen angst and anxiety and peer pressure and greasy hair and b.o. and ... well, you get the picture.

No matter what easy-to-understand terms and phrases I use, they are still very deeply rooted in their belief that they are being picked on, that I'm treating them unfairly, that I'm yelling at them because I can't stand them, that I'm sending them to their room because I don't want to see their faces.

It's all very ugly... and sad... and things are said that hurt my feelings....

And then we go to bed... get up the next morning, get the kids to school, get to work, and the day goes on from there. Hopefully this evening will be better than yesterday. I'm not holding my breath.