The fuse was long.
It lasted about 2 weeks.
With each day the spark got brighter, moved a little closer to it’s destination.
On Friday, it EXPLODED.
I came home from work early on Friday so that my honey and Keegan could make an early get away to the cabin while Eli and I worked on his behavior. When I arrived home I found a very upset honey and two boys in separate bedrooms.
Someone took my children and replaced them with Satan’s minions. I don’t typically refer to my children in such a manner so you know this was HUGE! Here’s what happened…
My MIL watched the boys – as always. My boys called her names. They ran out of the house without telling anyone. They sprayed my MIL in the face with the sprinkler when she came looking for them. These are the things that I know about. I’m sure there was more because my MIL left without saying a word when my honey arrived home.
These are not my children people. I don’t allow such behavior and my children know better. Something was up and it was time to get to the bottom of it.
I talked with my honey while the boys sat quietly in their rooms. I convinced her (with a lot of discussion and coaxing) that it was important that she go to the cabin. Both boys had been looking forward to the trip. Eli had already been told he wasn’t going due to behavior. Now Keegan was joining the group. We packed up her Jeep with the boys watching. She rode off into the hot afternoon sun. I plopped my butt on the hallway floor between the rooms of Thing 1 and Thing 2, propped my back against a pillow and dove into reading my blogs and posting on FB.
The boys had entered mommy boot camp, certainly against their will.
Mommy boot camp was a zero tolerance location. Fun was allowed but bad behavior was not. Anything and everything done to break a known rule got you sent to your room without warnings. It took some work but by Saturday afternoon things were going much better.
I found my boys! Eli would certainly use a Lego metaphor here to describe the transformation that took place. No, I did not find perfect little angels. They are 4 and 5 year old boys for crying out loud! What I did find were the things that I can live with.
I can live with boys that laugh til their bellies hurt when someone says “poop” or “puke”.
I can live with boys that make up songs and stories about said “poop” and “puke”.
I can live with boys that love to explore and occasionally end up with poison ivy.
I can live with my boys – when they are just being boys.
Along the way this weekend we came to some other realizations that helped in this amazing transformation. We discovered the anxieties that pushed my sensational kiddo so over the edge that this weekend had to happen in the first place.
But, that’s a post better left for tomorrow….