Hell hath no fury like a mom played.

Empty threats.

Some of them are much emptier than others.

Give that back to her or I’m taking away your ipad for an hour!

There’s a chance that one will happen.

If you don’t stop that, I’m pulling you out of championships!

Yeah right.

Not much chance of follow through on that threat.

I heard 2 different moms say both those things in the past week.

I know for a fact the second one was total load of crap.

The kid didn’t stop.

But there she was at championships.

Her behavior is consistently bad.

It’s not hard to tell why.

I have been making myself feel pretty good, sitting in judgement of other parents and their empty threats.

Knowing that I don’t do that.

That when I threaten the kids with something,

I follow the eff through with it.

Over the past year, Number 3 has gotten progressively more and more disrespectful at home.

Talking back.

Not following the directions the first time he’s told to do something.

Sometimes I’m hard on him.

But I also feel bad for him.

I have since he was really little.

And so I’ve made excuses.

OCD,

anxiety,

blah, blah, blah.

In the past year, the OCD and anxiety have gotten much better.

But his behavior and attitude have been getting worse.

I started to reflect.

I really wanted to blame it on my husband.

And Number 2, who doesn’t always remember he’s playing with an 8-year-old.

Kids at school who are bad influences.

Shit he’s heard on the bus or the baseball field.

And while those may be some contributing factors,

The biggest one really was quite obvious.

It’s me.

I’ve given him leeway that I don’t give the other kids.

And,

yes.

I’ve given him empty threat,

after empty threat,

after empty threat.

At the time I’ve said them,

I’ve really meant them.

I’ve told him he wouldn’t watch tv for a week.

But then I’ve softened,

and forgotten how angry I was,

and felt bad when all the other kids are watching a show before bed,

and so I’ve caved.

I’ve told him I’d pull him out of baseball.

And swim team.

That’s never happened.

There have been others.

But I always let him off the hook.

Yesterday a woman who works at the Y told me that her son had mentioned how well-behaved my kids were.

He still knows better than to be a weenie in public.

That has been saving Number 3.

But, yesterday afternoon, was the final straw.

I told Number 3 he had to help clean up in the playroom.

And he said no.

Staring straight at me.

In front of  Number 5 and 6.

Who in turn, joined in the boycott.

And that really fucking pissed me off.

So I sent him to his room.

He went.

After I said it 2 more times.

And after he whipped some crap down the stairs.

I didn’t yell.

I just told him to clean his room up while he was up there.

He didn’t do any cleaning.

He just kind of screwed around in there.

About an hour later, he came to the top of the stairs.

“Mom? Can I come down now?” he asked.

“Get back in your room.” I said.

That’s when he started cleaning.

Around 7:00, all the kids ate dinner.

All of them except for Number 3.

“Mommy?”

Oooh good.

He was starting to suffer.

He was calling me Mommy now.

“Do I even get to eat dinner?” he quietly called down the stairs.

This would have been the beginning of my usual caving point.

I went up to his room.

I told him that he would eat alone when everyone was done.

I told him that I was not going to allow him to be around any of his siblings and model that kind of behavior.

When everyone else was watching a show before bed,

Number 3 came downstairs and ate.

“Mom?

When can I come out of my room?” he asked.

Stay strong.

Caving in the short run will do more damage in the long run.

Stay strong.

“In the morning,” I answered.

He looked at me.

His eyes were big.

And his face was full of regret.

Because he knew I was no longer full of shit.

“But Mom? What if I don’t follow the directions and it’s only 8:30 in the morning?” he asked.

“Well, then I guess your room will be reeeeeally clean,” I told him.

He continued eating in silence.

I stayed in the kitchen with him and cleaned up a little.

“Mom?” he said.

“I’m really going to start following the directions from now on. And I’m not going to be disrespectful,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” I replied.

“Why this time?” I asked.

“Because usually you say stuff,” he said,

but you don’t really do it.

Now you’re actually doing it.”

Ugh.

What an idiot.

He’s been playing me for a long time.

And now I’m pissed.

The Empty Threat Games have officially drawn to a conclusion.

I can push myself to the limits in the gym.

I’ve been living by this motto when I’m there:

but not at home.

And I am letting an 8-year-old kick my ass.

No more, Number 3.

We’ve got some work to (un)do.

And it starts right now.

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