I’m cross, I feel hot and I think there may actually be steam coming out of my ears. I’m an odd dragon, fire not from my mouth, but from my brain.
Fuming mad, cross.
Who cares what it is about? They don’t. My fuming is not worth anything to them. I’m steaming mad and they just talk over me in their adult way.
I grit my teeth when they talk over me. Quickly getting madder still. I want to calm down, I know that is right. They don’t hear me when they talk over me. I try breath. They think I’m huffing and get louder.
As they get louder, I move inside myself. I am safe inside, they can’t touch me with their loud voices, and I grit my teeth and flick goes the switch, I turn off like my remote control car. No amount of control will move me.
I am off. I was mad. Now I am off.
Time may turn me on again, but still part of me will always be off, or ready to turn off.
Listen to me and gently love me. Don’t lecture me.
Frustration pent up. Why must they niggle, push, tease and enjoy it so much. It seems evil, the look of utter delight at another’s misery.
Fuming mad, cross.
Do they care about anyone but themselves? It seems not. I’m livered, and they appear to be enjoying it. It cuts me deep, I’ve failed as a parent.
I grit my teeth and take a deep breath as I begin to reason with them. I’m angry, I’ve given this speech so many times, the same script, as I speak it again. They begin with the selfish excuses, “he made me, if he didn’t - then I wouldn’t, it’s his fault.” He huffs, I get madder and louder.
I can see his eyes glazing over, he’s not even listening. How do I get through to this child of mine. What have I done wrong as a parent. He doesn’t listen to me.
I might as well be talking to myself. I hear the fight leave my voice, as it fades. I’m not beaten, I’m totally and deeply sad.
I just want to love him, not lecture him.