Incident

It has been building for a while, and tonight it all came to a head.

Maybe it has something to do with testosterone. Or being nine. Whatever. I still don't like it.

Travis came home from school today without his agenda/planner. It is a required "thing" that he is supposed to bring home every night with his assignments in it, and when he is done with his homework, I sign off on it. Well, he left it at school today. For the THIRD time. The second time just this week.

A little history - the first time he left it at school, we jumped in the car and dashed up to his classroom to get it. Monday, when he left it at school, I refused to take him back, knowing the consequences would be that he would have to sit out at recess or something. Except he had his GT class during recess and avoided all punishment. Meh.

So, today he walks in the house and tells me he just needs to review his spelling words and look over a math paper for a test tomorrow. Oh, and he forgot his agenda. So, I told him to make a plan to fix the problem. All he could do was whine.

I marched his not-so-happy self back up to school. And, on the way, I grounded him from his Nintendo DS tomorrow afternoon (during our 4+ hour trip to my in-laws - GASP!). He was devastated.

Fast forward to this evening. He had said some snappy things to me this afternoon here and there, and we had talked about respect and his tone of voice. And, the fact that his brother was now emulating him, and not in a good way. I overheard him with Scott and Tyler in the living room:

TRAVIS: Tyler! Ward (his best friend) is in the driveway! Let's go see!
SCOTT: No, don't say things like that.
TRAVIS: Come on, Tyler! Ward's here!
SCOTT: NO, TRAVIS.
TRAVIS: Ward's waiting for you in the driveway, Tyler! Come on!

At this point, I snapped. I told (read: screamed) for Travis to come see me. I told him he was being completely disrespectful and rude and he would now brush his teeth and go to bed. At 7:20.

Oh, the devastation! Oh, the tears! Oh, the HORROR!!!!

Basically, we had an all-out 9 year old tantrum in the bathroom and then into the bedroom. And, to pour salt on the wound (not my intention, but it surely did), I let Tyler stay up another 10 minutes while I read to him. Ouch.

Travis went to bed VERY angry. And I left with a horrible feeling in my gut. Then Scott gave his two cents: it was necessary. The kid pushes our buttons all the time and gets away with warning after warning. The hammer needed to fall.

I just wish it didn't hurt so much when it hits that proverbial nail.