Alright I am blogging just as a release. So please bear with me. On July 10 or so I found out my son had taken my daughter's credit card and spent about 200 dollars. Two days later I found out he had taken mine and spent even more. Needless to say I was livid. Thought about sending him to military school, or numerous other alternatives-- lost it completely, and nearly had a seizure when I do not have a seizure disorder.
He bought the neighborhood pop and candy from stores that were nearly two miles away, bought himself a twenty dollar hair cut right after I trimmed it and it wasn't different enough that I could even tell, bought stupid toy helicopters that got broken the same day, and ice cream & tee shirt to prove he was there when he is allergic to dairy.
In all he spent very close to, if not over, six hundred dollars and we still do not have a complete total. That night I only knew about the two hundred plus. I lost it. I buzzed his hair that he goes balistic over. I put him on a six month restriction. I took away most of his favorite things, and when I wanted to beat the tar out of him I had him do push ups instead.
If you think I'm joking about any of this I'm not. I decided I would do military school at home basically because I still wanted to make sure his emotional needs and spiritual needs were met. But he stole his sister bag of quarters (about twenty dollars) and continued to lie. So I continued to tighten the restrictions, and Todd got involved, taking over his discipline. Megan helped too. Pardon my French, but Megan can be ten times the hard ass that Todd and I can be put together. He better shape up...
A week and half passed before it started to get better. By that time I had him going to morning Mass with me at least three days out of the week (one of the only things he doesn't complain about). He was up to doing twenty five push-ups at a time without complaining when he started out being barely able to do five and screaming while doing them how much he hated us and couldn't stand the 'abuse' we were putting him through.
The problem has been that he keeps sneaking the stuff we took from his room, but our solution is to do a room inspection every day. Another problem was severe mouthing off and slamming his door, but we removed his door. To cover the money he spent we closed his savings account from when he use to do the papers. That didn't quite cover it, but at least it paid back Hope and helped us cover the credit card bills. He is shaping up and doing better-- at least until Todd left for China on Sunday.
All hell broke loose Monday morning when I asked him to wear his glasses. He ended up on the floor throwing a tantrum that a two year old might in huge thirteen year old fashion, breaking a door, and threatening to kill himself if we made him wear his glasses. For all of that he lost the rest of the things in his room beside his bed, dresser, four outfits, seven underwear, two pjs, three pairs of socks, a crappy desk chair, his fan (we don't have central air), a pillow, and a desk. I packed all his other stuff up in boxes to be stored until his behavior showed some progress. I set some of the boxes on his bed while I began putting the other ones on my storage shelves in my bedroom. He went in his room and slammed the boxes off his bed while screaming every word imaginable. Meg gathered those up and threw them out. I was dazed in unbelief. Not at Meg, but at my son. Monday got worse by the way, but it really isn't about Monday I am writing-- well it is, but not exactly.
Things calmed down with our new reality. Peter was under constant supervision. He finally agreed he really wanted to do good. This really wasn't who he wanted to be. Tuesday morning he did a confession with the priest after Mass. All in all it was a pretty good day. Tuesday evening we talked with a soccer coach who agreed on him playing soccer on the team he coached (two hour practices every day with Christian boys with a strict coach ((--hint me pulling in help when I know I am over my head and I really want to save my son from destruction)). Another words no more hanging around getting in trouble with kids that have nothing better to do. )
Then I got a phone call that changed my perspective. Before all of this Peter was always with three to four boys. Two of the boys are brothers, and their mother is trying hard to keep them under control. Monday they had been picked up by the police along with another boy that Peter regularly hung around with. They had spray painted a church. She was livid-- As I would have been too. She wanted to talk to the third boy's father, but her boys wouldn't tell her where he lived, and she knew Peter had been to his house.
Now this mom is alot like me. She could be a barracuda if anyone messes with her kids. She also is bound and determined to know the parents of the kids her boys hang out with. She is the one that called me when she saw Peter flashing the credit card around.
So Wednesday we (Peter, his friend's mom, and I) went to visit the other boy's dad. My son had not been involved, but man when she had my butt a couple weeks ago I was damn well up for returning the favor. Peter showed us the house, and went to knock on the door. She hopped out of the car, and I came up as they were talking to him.
To make this long story shorter, the father agreed that the action wasn't alright, and that he expected better, but looking in his eyes I could see he really didn't care. He said he would talk to his boy, but exuded complete apathy. Seriously his fifteen year old was picked up by the police! His son may even go to jail if the church they sprayed decides to press charges! To make matters worse there is some evidence that boy has been taking drugs and thieving from stores! The father just seemed unmoved. We left and later the boy purposefully rode by our house a few times as if to say 'see you accomplished nothing'. Now he has threatened our family. The reality is it is probably just smoke, and if it is more than that I will call the police. He graffitied my license plate, but I cleaned it pretty easily since I'm not the best at keeping my van cleaned and he didn't think of wiping the dust off first.
Today as Peter was at a basketball open gym I realized, though, how angry I am at that uncaring apathetic father and how angry I am with the thirty or so businesses that didn't even check to ask a thirteen year old what he was doing with a credit card. Don't get me wrong I do not take blame from my son for his action, or the other three boys for their actions, but I also realized when people stand up against wrong things do change. --Like the two people who saw what the the three boys were doing and called the police, the policemen who don't put up with this kind of crap from youth, the mom who told me of Peter's actions, the priests and deacon that have taken Peter under their wing so to speak, and the two coaches that are willing to help.
Peter thanked me yesterday for being hard on him, and saving him from being like these boys. He realized if I hadn't he would have been right there with them. I realized I needed to do whatever I can to help the other mom with her boys because she hasn't been blessed with finances or the where-with-all to get her boys out of 'hanging out'. This is helping our neighbor. My son is my neighbor as he is to the coaches, priests, and deacon. The two boys are my neighbor as is their mother. What is sad is, so is the other boy, but because the father takes no initiative there is really nothing anyone else can do to come beside him and change his life. I expect (but hope not) that one day probably before he is eighteen he will be behind bars or dead. Besides that how many lives will he help ruin before all is said and done? If he survives what kind of father will he be to his own children?
I'm sorry for being so long winded, but this is weighing on me and stressing me out. Who's going to be the Good Samaritan. Who's gonna be his/her brother's keeper? If we slack our community gets worse. Our children lose out and get destroyed. There will be nothing left ultimately. More stuff is not what we need, but more love. Sometimes tough love is what it takes. Sometimes it is standing up for others. Sometimes being a shoulder to cry on. Honestly the last one is what I need right now, but my husband is in China and my girls have weathered this with me, so this is my sounding board and God's been getting the full brunt of my tears.
Can you just help those around you? Will you love your neighbor. Because it could be the life of a boy like Peter. Or maybe changing the life of one that other wise would by your assassin. Or perhaps you'll save him from growing up to be another terrorist. Maybe you'll save a child or a family or whatever. Look around find your neighbor and be the Good Samaritan. It's not the governments' job. It is everyone's.
This is Cat out trying to settle in and down-- still struggling. Hoping to be heard and listened to.
No comments:
Post a Comment