Frustration

The bane of my existence in all forms seems to be my in-laws. They are nice people, with good intentions, but my gosh if these boys have NO MANNERS! Throughout the years Melissa would always sing the praises of my mother-in-law, along with anyone else who met her, and tag her a saint for doing such a wonderful job with these boys. While I will not begin to dive into the other issues that have arisen due to certain parenting tactics, I can say that the manners are a problem.

You know how most teenagers even in their angst will at least spit out the "right thing" to say? They'll say it through gritted teeth as they get the stare down from their parents, but at least they have received the instruction along the way to know what it is....these boys, have not. They are rude to their parents, selfish, and have an overall disregard for the welfare of others. I will not even say that my husband is exempt in this area, and many times I have to privately request a different choice next time. I am blunt, outspoken, and abrasive. These things are true about me-BUT-if I go to someone's house and they make food for me, I will offer to help with the dishes. Ask if there's anything I can do. Please. Thank you. Your welcome....If I sojourn to a friend or loved one's home, I will spend time with them while there. Not the whole time on their computer, not ignoring them and their guests, but spend time with them. Even if this means just sitting in the room silently and wishing I were in Marseille.

This frustration has only leaked to blog inducing anger because two of Andrew's brothers are here staying with us during the snow. They spent the night last night and will be here tonight. One of them we have over all the time, who also happens to be the most lacking in manners of all the brothers, which of course pisses me off quite frequently...and the other is the youngest so is better than the rest as far as appropriateness is concerned as he was "the baby" and recieved more attention and work than the rest. During lunch the boys began to recount the stories of their childhood to me, one when he was five stabbing another in the leg with a cheese knife because he refused to help cut his cheese. The oldest somehow managing to be left alone in an upstairs room with a window that had bars on it because the child (even though he was the only one) was unable to be controlled, and was then found dangling OUTSIDE the window, seen from the backyard below....boys being left alone in the basement and successfully spilling 10 paint cans all over the floor, etc. etc. Please do not get me wrong-boys will be boys. When you have five especially, stiches will ensue and brotherly comraderie can turn into bumps, bruises, and broken bones along the way. None of this would be an issue IF these boys had grown into respectful men. Presence and hard work is necessary, and quite possibly actually enforcing punishment...the youngest told me that spanking is illegal. That was his comment when I said my "no, actually, these stories are not amusing because you didn't grow into men with manners. They're more frustrating than anything." Response, "well, that's what happens when you raise five boys, it's in our blood," to which I replied "No, actually, if my children behaved that way as children or spoke to me now the way you speak to your mother, I would spank the crap out of them."

"Well spanking is illegal."

"Then they'll hold books, sit in time-out, write sentences." Or any other form or rebuke that is deemed appropriate by the bleeding hearts still ascribing to the (failed) mantra of Dr. Spock.

Because I feel this way, because I believe in structure and none of that "One...two...don't make me say three..." nonsense-my children will be hellions and all other parents I have ever come into contact with will find retribution.

But you can bet your bottom my little hellions will help you do your damn dishes!