A few months ago I blogged about the secondary effects on a sibling when one is diagnosed with social anxiety disorder but really it rings true I think for any sibling who has has to sit on the fence while the world revolved around the other child.
Since that dreaded day in November I thought things were going quite well. We were all trying different strategies and approaches and for the most part I saw progress. I’ve stuck to those five ideas that Ehren and I hashed out months ago and I was hopeful for the future.
I only recall telling my mother that I hated her once or twice and I don’t remember how old I was and I had no siblings so it should come as no shock to me to hear it from Ehren. The problem is that even if you are anticipating it the sting of those words cuts you like a knife.
This week I had to make some changes to our routine and because Ehren was sick on Tuesday we missed Jiu-Jitsu. In my head I completely forgot that Ehren and I have total Mom and Ehren time that night and because of a few pressing issues I had to switch it to the following night. Probably not the best idea since in his mind he’s not important enough for me to keep to our schedule but I had the whole family home on Tuesday and boy did it throw me off my day.
Thursday after school while we were walking home Sydney was having some trouble getting through the snow and was kicking up snow behind her which threw Ehren into a frenzy. He looked at me and looked at her, pointed to her and shouted at the top of his lungs, “I wish I never had a sister because I hate her. I wish she was never born. I want to be alone. I don’t need her!”. To that I merely replied, “Ehren I know you feel that way right now but I know you don’t really mean it because it’s nice to have someone there for you when you get older and I would have given anything to have a brother or sister.” As he begrudgingly walked home he continued to tell me that I don’t deal with them fairly, that I ground him and not her, that I always take her side. Honestly I don’t see where this is coming from, but I’m not taking his feelings away from him.

So this brings me to tonight. Now after looking after everyone else I’m sick. I spent the whole day on the couch drinking tea, eating vitamin C, even going as far as taking some drops of Oregano oil and I’ve been fighting off the chills all day. Dave took Ehren to Jiu-Jitsu and I explained before hand that I would really appreciate it if he could do me a favour and go with daddy because I really wasn’t feeling well. He agreed but the afternoon was a little dicey.

I’m on my own for a while this evening as Dave is out with some friends this evening and I’m on my own, sick holding down the fort. We walk upstairs and in Ehren’s room there is a gross amount of guinea pig shavings and food and other things outside of the cage and I just mentioned to him that he needs to do a quick vacuum before he hits the sack. Oh and did I mention that on the way up the kids fought their way to the top of the stairs only for Ehren to yell at Sydney, “I win, you loose!”. We don’t advocate saying anything mean to anyone in the family and for the thousandth time I said, “Remember if it’s not something nice there’s no need to say anything.”

I walked into the spare room and the pillows were all over the floor, one slumped over Sydney’s guinea pig house that had not been cleaned out. I’m tired, I’m sick and I admit it…I yelled, “What the heck is this?”. Both the kids came to the room and as I looked to see that the lamp was as well knocked over I heard Ehren reply, “Well, it’s your fault you know. If you cleaned up after you slept here last night the pillows wouldn’t be on the floor and you know that I practice my Jiu-Jitsu falls on the mattress.” Well, so there it is in black and white…it’s my fault! (According to my 8 year old).

I brought the vacuum into his room and could see feet sticking out from underneath the desk. I asked once, “Ehren come out now and vacuum up the stuff.” No movement. Second time, “Ehren it’s getting late and you can’t leave the floor like this.” Followed by, “I don’t want to have to ask a third time or else there will be a consequence.” I began to vacuum and he bolted from out of the desk and grabbed the vacuum hose. He pulled it out from my hand and I gently asked him if I we could try that again because the way he took it from me was inappropriate. He grabbed tighter as I pulled it away. I looked at him firmly and said, “Ehren let go we need to try this the right way.” I pulled his fingers off the hose and he looked at me with such anger and said, “I HATE YOU. I REALLY MEAN IT YOU KNOW. I ABSOLUTELY HATE YOU.” I stood in the middle of his room shocked. Not only did I physically feel horrible but now emotionally I’ve just been stomped on. Am I making too much of this? Do other 8 year olds look at their parents and tell them they hate them with such intensity? Does he really hate me? What more can I do?

I’m beginning to think that the support group for siblings is becoming more and more important. He holds so much anamosity over Sydney that unless I completely ignore her I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give him what he needs in his eyes.
As I’m typing he’s sitting near the outside of my door and I can hear pages of a book being flipped. It’s like playing a game of chess. So whose move is it now?