He doesn't know a way to tell us what he really feels. So it spews out in anger and resentment and hatered. He doesn't mean the hurtful things he says. But we just don't understand! So the Battle of the 10 Year Olds begins. I try not to join the battle. 1 vs 1 should be considered a fair fight. But one of them is no longer 10 ... and Motherly Protectiveness rears it's ugly head and the battle becomes 2 vs 1. (There are so many days when I'm the 1 on the 1 vs 1.)
Tomorrow's a New Day.
I pledge to smother him in love.
When he says the mean words, I will ignore them.
I will calmly count to 10 before I lash out at him in anger.
I will just walk away.
I will not challenge his violence with the same.
I will not rise to battle.
And when my Cope Jar is full I will go to my room and he will go to his.....