In Which the Police are Called

This is The Story of My Life

Read Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2

Sunday (Day 6 of Doug's absence):

The day has gone smoothly.  We made it to church 5 MINUTES EARLY instead of 5 minutes late!  (Confirming my theory that it's DOUG who makes us late--not ME.)  We get home.  I drop Gray-Gray on the kitchen floor and head upstairs to change out of my church clothes.  I change, pee, and come back downstairs.  The kids have been unattended for anywhere between 4-6 minutes.  

And all hell has broken loose.  

Gabe is crying in the kitchen, Gray is crawling around unhappily and Sam and Max are fighting in the hall.  Like, REALLY fighting.  Punching and kicking.  Throwing out the worst in their collective vocabularies:  "MORON!"  "IDIOT!"

I manage to decipher that the fight is over the leftover pizza they want to eat for lunch.  Max thinks it's okay to eat three of the remaining five pieces.  Sam disagrees.  I break them up and order them both to "TIME OUT!" in their bedroom with NO pizza for lunch.

Max marches off to his room in a huff.  Sammy runs to the kitchen, smacks Gabe, steals a pizza slice, and keeps on running.

Now I'm getting upset.  Gabe is screaming.  Sam is running away from me, and Gray is trying desperately to crawl after me and crying now that I wont pick him up.  

I catch Sam and drag him upstairs.  Now he is hysterical.  Hitting, thrashing, trying to get away.  I shove him in his room and try to hold the door closed from the outside.  Unfortunately, the doors in our house have pull-down handles.  Not door knobs.  And it's hard to pull up on one, to keep the door closed, when someone on the other side is pulling down and out with all his might.  

The screaming and door yanking is interrupted only by short breaks to throw things.  I've been here before and I know this isn't going to end any time soon.  I try to lock him in his room using the baby gate to keep the door closed.  I'm tired.  My husband is out of town.  I'm angry but I'm trying to stay calm.  I really REALLY want to just let him have it.  Give him a smack and an angry lecture.  But I'm trying SO SO hard to be a GOOD example.  Show him that HITTING ISN'T THE ANSWER.  I'm so tired.  I need to call someone for HELP! 

I wedge the baby gate under his door handle one more time and head down stairs.  After only a few pulls he's free and chasing me down, screaming and pulling on me.

I pull out the "police" threat again.  

"Sammy, you better knock it off or I'll call the police.  This is NOT OKAY!"

More screaming, no knocking-off.

I pick up the phone.

"I'm going to call the police!"

Hysterical screaming.

"If you don't want me to call you need to calm down and quit hitting me.  You're scaring Baby Gray!"

No calming, more screaming.

I think about 911.  I think they might not appreciate me calling 911 to report a 6 year old having a tantrum.  I dial the base operator and ask for Security Forces and they transfer me to the non-emergency number.

"Hi, I have a--sorry, can you hold on?  It's very noisy here" (I try to leave three screaming kids behind and find a quiet spot.  Not possible.)  "Okay, hi.  I have a six year old, and he's been hitting a lot lately.  I've been telling him it's not okay to hit and that it's actually against the law to hurt people.  I was wondering if you could talk to him..."  

I've locked myself in the bathroom by now.  Sam and Gabe are screaming and banging on the door.  Gray is at their feet crying wondering what in the world is happening and why wont I just PICK HIM UP!

The officer says "Sure--I can talk to him!  Can you bring him in?  Would it be possible for you to come down here to our office?"

--pause--

"Um...yes."

"Okay, bring him in.  I'll give him a good talking to and try to scare him a little."

I hang up and call Roxanna.

"Roxanna, can you watch Gabe and Gray for me?  I have to take Max and Sam to Security Forces."

--pause--

"I'll be right there."