I HATE You, Mom!

By: Tanya Dodd-Hise

So life has been buzzing along over here at Dodd-Hise Paradise at breakneck speeds it seems.  Noah had his twelfth birthday, and seemed to go from loving, sweet kid to alien creature, yelling at me and such.  But I will get to that.  Harrison just turned five months old last Saturday – oh my God!  Five months old!  She is doing so much, and a lot of things well in advance of when she is supposed to hit those milestones.  First she was rolling over onto her back, several weeks early.  Then she rolled from back to tummy, like, almost two months early.  She started blowing raspberries at us, which is absolute GREATNESS.  She’s trying really hard to sit up by herself, but just not quite there yet.  Yes, our child is an absolute genius – you don’t have to tell us…we know this.  We’re going to start sign language with her soon, and she will soon move into her big girl carseat – big, exciting stuff, huh??  In the next few weeks we will be filing the petition for adoption and get THAT ball rolling – so she should be legally mine in the next few months!  That will be a whole new series coming up, so be looking for it!

Houdini has figured out how to get out of her bouncer straps....and very proud of it!

Now back to Noah. My goodness. As I have written about before, he has been having some school issues, with grades and apparently some bullying. So okay, we can deal with that. He had a good week home with me for Spring Break, with a trip to Bass Hall in Ft. Worth a few days before his birthday to see the Broadway production of Young Frankenstein. On the day of his actual birthday, he wanted to go to Main Event for bowling, laser tag, and games. We invited a couple of my sorority sisters’ kids to come, and we were soon there, having a great time. So here he was, finally twelve years old. His birthday came and went, and then it was back to school as usual. Oh dear Lord baby Jesus. By the end of that first week back, I had already gotten an email from a teacher regarding Noah’s work, and the lack of its presence in his (the teacher’s) hands. On Friday, after he came home, he told me that he had homework that was due on Monday, in one of the classes that he has been doing poorly in. So while he wanted to do his homework over the weekend, I wanted him to go ahead and get it done on Friday night. He did half of it and decided he was done and going to go to his room to read. This prompted me telling him to go back and finish, as well as Erikka – all to no avail. He ignored us both, saying that he could do it the next day. I finally got to the point where I had had enough, so I went into his room and took his Kindle away (new birthday gift – possibly a big mistake on my part). Let’s just say that he wasn’t happy. He blew up! He started yelling and screaming at me, and I just kept telling him that he couldn’t read on the Kindle until he decided to finish his homework, whenever that was. He yelled some more, started crying, and finally told me that he hated me. Oh my. He hated me. I felt that pain in my heart that I did not remember experiencing before. Had Nicholas told me that he hated me? I couldn’t remember. I turned around and walked out, went to the kitchen and told Erikka what he had said. I almost cried. But instead, I turned around and announced that I was going back in, to take something else away. Well, THAT turned things a little uglier for a few minutes. I walked in and proceeded to take away his other big-ticket birthday item: the new, red guitar. Ohhhhh the screaming! He then started ripping the pictures off of his wall – that HE had drawn. I looked at him and said, “um, this doesn’t hurt ME you know. You are the one who worked hard on those drawings. And you are the one who will have to pick up the trash and throw them away.” I didn’t know what else to do or say, so I left again, handing off the guitar to be stashed.

But ever since I picked him up yesterday afternoon, he has been great.  Very loving, very huggy, done his homework, doing what he is supposed to do.  I’m telling you, the mood swings are CRA~ZY!  There is no way that I could have been like that at twelve years old!  My mama would have snatched every hair out of my head!  I’m already a little scared of when Harrison gets hormones…yikes!  But I have survived one kid telling me that they hate me, so I guess I’m a little ahead of the game, eh?

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  1. Madgew says

    Oh my, transitions. Not quite old enough to be a teenager and really go crazy and just old enough to drive parents nuts. My sons started at 10, I remember it well. My 10 year old son on the street in front of our house yelling and pacing and flipping me off as I tried to get him inside. Finally, did the worst possible thing, I am calling your dad and when he gets home you are in big trouble, mister. My son persisted until his dad came home and they walked in together. He was in his room for the rest of the night. Next day the big apology until it happened again. Teen years actually got so much better. He had his fall out early and then turned into someone I loved again until 11th grade where he went momentarily nuts all because of a baseball slump in high school. Oy Vey what a year. Now he is 40 with 3 kids and he is getting back in spades what he was like from two of his three. I always tell him breathe and when they turn 40 all will be right with the world. We laugh but he was a royal pain in my ass. In that same 11th year he ripped shutters off his windows, through a TV out his window and pulled the gear shift off his car. Anger issues galore, therapy with no real happy ending and then in 12 grade all was calm, went to college and never returned home until 3 years ago at 37 to raise his family here on my street. His anger is almost a non issue anymore. He is a great dad and wonderful husband and works on his issues everyday. They do grow up in their own way at their own pace. We can just love them when they hate us.

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