I had another title in mind, but I had no real idea what it meant. It sounded quite profound when it popped into my head. Please understand that I’m operating on a lot of stress and very little sleep.
Now, today’s topic is, once again, juvenile code/law/detention/probation. Here’s another timeline:
March 1 – my son was taken to detention
March 4 – my son was arraigned and sentenced to 2 ½ weeks
March 23 – my son was released on probation
March 24 – my son began violating the conditions of that probation – every one
Fast forward to this month.
On Wednesday, we met with his DJO for probation. She talked, and listened, and I had thought she was going to report his violations; she went out-of-town for a few days, so I can’t ask and don’t know for sure.
I should add that, during the entire 20-minute drive to her office, my son harangued me continuously about what a lousy mom I was, how I was psycho and needed meds, how pitiful and what a victim he was, ad nauseum. Mostly I ignored him, but once or twice asked how in the world he could think or say these things. He had no answer, just kept hammering.
He was a bit more subdued on the return trip, and left, with permission, to go to a friend’s house. My apologies to the parenting Nazis, but I needed a break – if a mom of a screaming toddler needed a break, you’d tell her to take it, right? No difference with a surly, cruel, verbally abusive teenager.
He asked me later if he could spend the night on Friday with this friend, and I said no. Just because. And he was okay with that, then.
Yesterday, he was great – did his chores (mostly), was pleasant, involved with the family, etc. Then he asked his dad about the Friday night plans. His dad, naturally, said no, and explained that one day of good behavior did not merit extra privilege, especially in light of three weeks’ detention and his behavior in the nine days since his release.
He started cursing, at both of us, saying horrible, hurtful things, making untrue accusations, and he was sent to his room. He cranked up the music, and make more statements about me on his Facebook page. He was asked to turn down the music and did for a moment, then turned it up again even more loudly.
His dad told him to turn it down or off. He responded by turning it up and cursing his dad and calling him names and daring him to do something about it all. So my husband began removing his computer, the stuff on his desk, and was packing it up. I stopped by his room, wondering if I should help or make myself scarce, and I picked up some trash lying right by the door.
My son responded by saying: “Don’t touch my stuff, you f-ing biotch!” Only not quite with those words I just typed.
My husband spun him around in his chair, grabbed him by the shoulders, and told him to NOT talk to his mother that way. My son threw himself backwards, fell over, and bumped his head on the floor, and my husband tried to pick him back up – my son lunged for the bed, they both fell into the desk, and my husband pinned him down on the bed and repeated: do NOT talk your mother like that. My son ran outside and called the police.
They came, they talked, they took my son away in handcuffs.
Just past midnight, the detention center called and said they would keep my son overnight and call me tomorrow; my son got on the phone and asked me to pick him up. Why? Because he was supposed to work today and didn’t want to lose his job. I told him no.
Today, they called me. My son complained of bruises and scratches and a bump on the head, was examined, and it was therefore determined, based on this and his “story”, that my husband was the aggressor and would be charged with assault. It was also determined that my son would be taken into protective custody and a hearing would be scheduled.
No one seems concerned that my son lies, has lied, continues to lie. No one seems concerned that his pattern of behavior has been ongoing for a year and a half; even the probation violations must be deemed “chronic”, apparently for longer than a week or so – never mind that he’s only been OUT of detention for a week or so.
Family services still has not called me. I suppose things could change when they get the entire police report and our statements, but when will the juvenile system wake up and realize that not all kids can be rehabilitated and that a kid with all the advantages my son has is just not, in any way, shape, or form, being abused? When will someone realize that this kid is himself the abuser? When, for God’s sake, will someone notice that the problem is ONE kid, THIS one, and that the rest of the family lives under severe stress and anxiety and sometimes outright terror, wondering when and how he will snap altogether?