This is not an embellishment; It literally happened overnight.
And, in all honesty, it is my fault because I wished for it. I spoke the words out loud, and BAM, it happened.
A reader complimented me on my blog and what a wonderful person Haven is, and I joked back with her that I felt like my blog might be boring because all I seem to do is tell everyone how special she is. I wondered aloud when the difficult issues were coming because at the very least, my blog would be more entertaining.
What in the holy hell did I say that for? And Jesus, if you are reading this, I am eternally sorry and would like to retract my statement about blog entertainment. I really don't care if my readers laugh or not. Please restore my Haven back into the girl she was nights ago and I will never be ungrateful again.
That's how that works, right?
UGH!
I suppose you, dear reader, would like the specifics about what happened. I suppose I will tell you.
Picture your child during the terrible two's (I don't care what others say, girls go through it at age three, but picture it nonetheless.) Now multiply that time of growth, development and exertion of independence by let's say, FOUR MILLION. It is absolutely laughable that people tell you to fear your child at age two. THOSE people are obviously out of touch with reality; Sixteen is MUCH harder than three.
The long and short of it is that I said no to Haven when she asked to do something after being gone all weekend. I rarely say no to Haven, and expected a little back talk from her because that is what she does when I say no.
I said no for many reasons and those reasons angered her. They angered her a little more than they should have, and that in turn was the gateway for mouthiness and being disrespectful. And the mouthier and more disrespectful she became, the angrier I got. The incident became cyclical until we were inches from each others faces.
My mom slapped me across the face a couple of times when I was growing up. I swore when I had children that I would NEVER slap them on the face; I find that that type of discipline degrading and unnecessary. But, in that minute, when Haven and I were inches apart, I wanted to slap her in the mouth so hard. I wanted to knock every one of her $6,000 teeth down the back of her throat.
Haven even dared me to do it.
Now, before you all go calling Child Protective Services on me, please know that I did not hit her. I really wanted to, though.
Before we got to this point, believe me, I tried using every other tactic I had in my "Mother Bag of Justice." Nothing worked. When I grounded her, she said, "Whatever." When I told her to give me her phone, she told me, "No." NO! Things escalated pretty fast, but I did use everything that has previously worked to wrangle her back into conformity. Nothing worked. I realized I had a serious problem when Haven left the house after I told her not to.
I sat there in that empty house in shock. What had just happened to us? This cannot possibly be what we are turning into. I went from sobbing uncontrollably to burning rage. I pictured what Haven was telling her friends:
"My Mom is such a bitch!"
Oh Haven, you have no idea. Just ask anyone! Bitch does not even begin to describe me. That does not hurt my feelings in the least. You can call me a bitch as much as you want. It's okay.
"I HATE my MOM!"
Haven, please don't hate me. I don't say no to you because I want to be all mighty on the top of some disciplinary hill. I say no because you still have to be part of our family. You have to be present in our family. You don't just get to be gone all of the time, running around God knows where in a bikini. You get to participate in the mundane activities of family life. Just pretend to like it. It works out that much better in the long run.
Whatever Haven was saying and feeling is also valid. I am sure she was just as upset as I. This was a terrible experience for both of us.
When she returned, and after more arguing, we reached a punishment that I was comfortable with.
Since that day, there have been many other incidents of Haven trying to exert her independence from me. I am well aware that she is going to push the boundaries as much as she can to get her way. My concern is that if the things in my "Mother Bag of Justice" do not work, what is a single mother to do? It's not like I can threaten, "Just wait until your Father gets home!" like other Mothers get to do.
I need to get creative. I need to think of other ways to get her attention. I need to fill my bag up with some new tricks. I'll let you know what I come up with.
Until then, I will be in survival mode. I survived the terrible threes; I am sure I will survive this.
