Can't catch a fucking break

Clearly I'm a shitty parent or my kids wouldn't act like this. Clearly.

Same fucking shit, different fucking day.

M lost all his play time for the whole weekend. Yep - the WHOLE WEEKEND. And that was after me giving him opportunity after opportunity after opportunity to get his shit together. And therein lies the problem. He's gotten so used to having all these opportunities that he doesn't do what he's told until he knows I'm serious about the consequences.

It's weird though - after losing all his playtime tomorrow, something that's REALLY important to him, he continued with the bad decisions. When I got to Saturday's playtime, he freaked a bit, but STILL didn't do what I asked him to do. When I finally said I'm writing an email to Daddy to tell him you have no playtime for the whole weekend, then it's all "Mommy, I'll clean up" and "NO MOMMY! PLEASE!!" I don't know if it was the threat of losing the whole weekend of playtime or the threat of Daddy knowing that I took the playtime away (as if Daddy wouldn't know by tomorrow morning anyway).

And it's not like I asked him to paint the house for fuck's sake. I asked him to finish his dinner for an hour. And before you tell me to throw it out after a certain amount of time, my kid needs to eat. And he needs to eat protein. If he doesn't eat enough, he wakes up in the middle of the night and does god knows what while the rest of us are snoozing away. I've even been giving him a special "bedtime drink" right before bed of strawberry Kefir to help him stay asleep.

Oh - and I asked him to clean up the legos he had played with.

After I sent the email to Daddy, I was screamed at, my door was kicked and I was told that I'm MEAN. Do you know that there is no reasoning with a pissed off 8 year old? I know it now. I asked him if it was mean of me to give him so many opportunities to do what I had asked, then when he didn't do it, to take something away.

At some point I simply sent the kids upstairs. And I had my little freak out down here. I screamed. Loudly. And I slammed the door. Twice. And I kicked their god damn lego box across the room. Real mature, huh?

I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit up there with them tonight while they fall asleep. M came down, attitude in hand, and said J wanted me to come back upstairs. I said NO. He said why. I said because I have been treated poorly tonight by both of you and I can't take any more of it.

And again, I'm left feeling like a shitty parent. I'm beginning to not know which way is up with this shit.

I can't wait until our appt with Dr. B. next week. I know 1 appointment isn't going to solve the problems, but it will be start.

Fuck me. Maybe I need to go back to my therapist and work on some meditation or something.