This is how laughably bizarre my life can be these days . . . started our morning with a 7 year old child well regulated, ready for school, almost walking out the door.
He had a melt down and threatened to destroy one of our baby gates. I said, “Would that make you feel better? Go ahead.”
Image courtesy of Michelle Meiklejohn / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
He proceeded to tear it apart, even breaking the wood and tearing off the hardware and taking a couple chunks out of the walls while he was at it.
When I said, “OK, time for school,” he picked up one piece and wielded it over his head and threatened me with it. I walked away, and he threw both pieces over the railing into the other room and chucked some hardware at me.
I got him settled down and made a deal that he could be late to school if he rested for the next hour. We lay down in his room, which looks out onto the front porch. He was just going to sleep when . . .
Someone KNOCKS on the door! Seriously!!!
I storm out of his bed and go to the door. There, standing before me, is a nice little grey haired lady clutching two books to her chest.
I state, “Sorry – we don’t do anything at the door – thank you,” and begin to shut the door. She knocks AGAIN. I turn around probably with a snarl on my face, and she asks, “Are you Cathy? I have an appointment with you about adoption resources.”
Oops . . . I feel about half an inch tall. I invite her in to the room littered with fragments of baby gate. I apologize, “I am so sorry – we have had a violent morning. We were just lying down.” I introduce her to my son,”Ian, this is Nancy, she’s from Jackson County.”
Ian gives her his best dazzling smile, and, with the grace of Cary Grant, bows down to pick up the baby gate, saying “Well, please excuse me while I clean up my mess. I’ll just take these outside.” He very casually takes all the pieces out to the back deck, as if he is simply straightening a messy pile of mail.
This kid. My life. Laughably bizarre.