Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

The tide's come in and gone out, the storms rolled, fists thrown and rebounded, and still we remain.

The reinforcing struts my wife and I added to bolster our marriage were recently threatened, much by my own carelessness, much by the escalated behavior of my oldest son.

Just this past weekend, his emotional issues and stubbornness crested, resulting in an altercation with the White Trash Witch's son (much exaggerated by that whining brat), further damage to his siblings' property and our home (a broken screen door added to the recently kicked-out front window), and increased insults thrown at my wife and myself. After he stormed into the house, having re-exited several times on his sister's bike, or in order to kick it from the front porch down to the sidewalk, I asked my wife what she wanted done with him. She unleashed her words and imagination in one torrent, causing him to take flight again. He eventually returned, refusing to go to his room. He grabbed an empty plastic bottle and hurled it at my head; I reflexively kicked the chair in front of my towards his legs, briefly pinning him against the wall. I again ordered him to his room, and he again refused. It should be noted at this point that, in over a year of family therapy caused by and geared towards my oldest son's disciplinary issues and disobedience, no therapist, official, or authority has been able to offer any advice or guidance as to how to handle the recurring situation of his abject refusal to comply with the wishes and directives of his mother and myself. Having witnessed first-hand the fierce non involvement of the police when he shattered the front window, I had no confidence in either their judgement or competence were they to be summoned if I laid a finger on him. Nonetheless, at my wits end and with no other alternatives, I firmly gripped his shoulders to move him upstairs to his room.

He took his first swing and barely glanced my shoulder, the blow intended for my face. I lost my composure, my clarity, my control. I was on autopilot, and fixated on attacking the foe at hand, my oldest son. My swing made its target, landing square on his face just to the left of his nose. He swung again, hitting my left upper arm. I took his head down in a choke hold with my left arm, thrusting uppercuts into the crook of my elbow with my right. As my wife and her friend tried to separate us, my wife taking a few hits to the arm from one or the other of us, he twisted his face around, planting his teeth against the crook of my elbow, preparing to bite. All I felt was the light graze of his teeth against my skin, and reflex took over again; I pummeled the back of his head three times, then smacked him square in the face three times. The fight ended with his bellowed wish for my death, accentuated by his plans as to how to achieve it.

My wife wants me to get anger management therapy, and I've agreed, but things are rarely as simple as that. Therapy for me does not address my son's very real issues. In the past year, any time I've 'let up' on my son, he's leaped forward to cover that gap with aggression. He seems to be convinced of his own superiority despite the complete nonexistence of any shred of fact or fancy to make such superiority even conceivable. He wants to be a robotics engineer, yet refuses to work on his math or science skills in school. He insists on help with every homework assignment without attempting it on his own first. Beyond his issues, are the issues that have cropped up between my wife and I, some being revisited. She promised me equal time with her friends, yet has let our involvement dwindle and her exploits with them maximize. She will go through several consecutive days off from work without washing a single dish, while I can go for three or more days on overnights and have to wash a week's worth of dishes at the end of it. I'm willing to do my part to improve situations, but solving 'me' will not correct 'all.'

My wife and I have new wedding bands on layaway. We had been making progress with our date nights. I still love my son, but I will not let him tear asunder everything that I and we have been working to build and repair. There are new bright suns on the horizon, in the form of a training program and attached job in computer programming with Jackson National Life Insurance that pays in excess of 200% of what I'm making in the retail/convenience store industry. I have been through too much and struggled for too hard and too long to throw that all away. The entire family could benefit so much from this opportunity, but we all benefit only if we all stay together.

I have my own concerns about anger management therapy. I investigated it in the past, when a misunderstanding with an aging customer service representative at a previous job led to an employer mandate to seek therapy. I can't sit for a glorified meditation program; my temple offers that twice a week for free. As well, I will not drug myself to make his misbehavior acceptable. There is much to sort out, and it all must be equitable.

Taking the Bad with the Good

Reconciliation has been achieved; the wife and I are functional again! I don't have any magic formulas or breakthroughs to share, though; our reconciliation is the result of a lot more selflessness, a lot more relaxing of stances, and a lot more of each of us listening to the other. We're working through our mutual difficulties rather than assigning blame, rediscovering what we want out of the relationship, and opening up to the other more so than to friends and confidants.

Just this past Sunday we hosted several of her friends at our place until rather early Monday morning for an impromptu tattoo party, something of an icebreaker for me to be introduced to her Detroit friends and a kickoff to my vacation from work. We're having a few people over again tomorrow for a little more of the same, but beginning a little earlier in the afternoon.

Probably the best indicator of the improved status of our relationship is the fact that we've put new wedding bands on layaway. She agreed a few days ago to our beginning to wear them again, but discovered within minutes of returning hers to her hand that she's developed a gold allergy, causing small sores to break out on her ring finger wherever the gold made contact. Thus, she's placed a clearance silver engagement band and I a titanium band on layaway, mainly only to wait out the resizing of her ring. Despite the differing materials, they make quite a good match.

The vacation was simply to prevent my 'going postal' at work, and it couldn't have come too soon. Just before it began, a shift manager who has some unknown personal beef against me performed a store walk-through that essentially trashed and discredited any work I had done on the overnight shift. I refused to stay longer than ten minutes to help correct what I know damn well did not need correcting, shoving past her at the time clock to end my shift and leave without a word. I know she made a formal complaint of her walk-through, and I made it adequately well-known before my vacation began that I was not backing down from my position; I've left worse shifts for other shift managers, and inherited worse shifts without complaint--my function is not to ensure that the management that follows me does not have anything to do but take numerous smoking breaks and drink coffee. I return to work in three days, though it is with even less commitment than I've had before. During my break, I've applied to several positions in companies outside the retail industry; it's definitely time to make my break and end this extended temporary transition, although I am still going to try to transfer to the main office in an administrative capacity.

The biggest family hurdle at present is my oldest son's behaviour, or rather the lack of such. Two days ago he achieved his fourth suspension of the current school year, this one for ten days for fighting, which will consume the majority of time left for this school year. He celebrating by picking a fighting with his sister and I after he got off the bus, realized he bit off more than he could chew, and kicked out the largest window in our living room. He ran from the house as I called the police, who were extra helpful as they stood there impotent, explaining that, since this is his residence and it's like he's only destroying his own property, they wouldn't even fill out an incident report on this call. My wife and I are discussing sending him to her mother in Kentucky for an extremely extended respite. Thus far he thinks it's for summer vacation; he's in for quite a shock when he realizes that, not only is he there for the better part of a year or more, Kentucky observes year-round school, in which he'll be enrolled rather quickly. It may be the only thing that enables him to pass the seventh grade, given his disregard and sloth.

We are making progress, despite his lack of same. Much as it may be regrettable that we must consider shipping him off, I have not only my own well being, but that of my wife and two other children to consider. If he doesn't wish to be part of this family, so much the better his removal.