We were having a nice relaxing evening when Vietnam struck like the old days. We were rough housing and Walter had grabbed my pinky then spun around twice. I really thought he broke it. As I pulled it away he fell on the coffee table hard knocking over my soda. He was furious with me. Started yelling, screaming. I apologized but reminded him that I stated more than once that rough housing was a bad idea. Admittedly I got weak and started in with him. What can I say, rough housing has it’s qualities and we’re boys. I told him I was sorry and he said it meant nothing. Then proceed to tell us how he didn’t care about anything. Then he told me hated me and was never going to hug me again. Door slamming commenced. Dudette got bit. I got kicked. He went into his room and slammed the door repeatedly. I went and sat outside his room and told him I’d be there when he was ready to talk. Every few seconds he’d open the door and throw a crumpled up candy wrapper or post it at me. Scream “That’s what you get!” then slam the door. This went on for 15 minutes before he started slowing down and throwing with less angst. I started doing his stress coping techniques we’ve learned at counseling. Only I did them wrong. He opened the door and saw me “squeezing lemons” and yelled, “You’re doing it wrong!” He showed me the right way and I mimicked him. I then did the turtle, wrong. He says in a lower voice, “No Dude, like this.” He showed me how to stretch like a cat after that and Dudette hit the hallway with graham crackers and apple juice for all.
We sat and talked for a bit. I told him again I was sorry. He didn’t accept right away but eventually he gave me a big hug. He also told me he was sorry for what he did too and I might be a sucker but I believed him. He told us his mom told him he would have to go to 8 homes before getting to go home with her. I don’t think she did. Sounds like 7 year old hurt, sad, boy logic to me. We assured him the only person we’d let take him would be her if the judge said it was ok. We brushed teeth, read a story and went to bed. He had a tough time falling asleep. Visit tomorrow. Perhaps that it. Who knows. Hunger, fatigue and more could have all played in it. Maybe the Dudette and I were just getting cocky and Walter needed to remind us to abide.