War of the Roses

Remember that movie? A married couple go at each other in an attempt to get one (or the other) to leave the house as their marriage is dissolving? Ever seen it?

I've seen it - and I actually don't recall much of the movie itself - just the absurdity of the battle and the title of the film that kind of sticks with you. Like you knew you'd need it at some point.

That's what this week has been at our house. War of the Roses. Only here, it's 'War of the Kids' - a tale of two boys who can get so pissed off at each other for the stupidest things....and then escalate into more stupid stuff just because.

I'm not going into too much detail - I'll save that for my 'tell-all' book when one or both of them ends up famous. But H. did something stupid that affected B. And B. has his 'opinion' about what is the appropriate level of punishment that H. should suffer for the issue. And we've been battling about that all week. ALL WEEK. It's been like a mine field in this house - just waiting for the next thing that will put one of them over the edge...and the next thing always happens. ALWAYS...because they are teens and they are boys and they do stupid things. Often. It's just the way it is. It is what it is.

It was one of those weeks when there's just too much testosterone in this house for my liking...and yet, there's nowhere to go. Sure, I can go upstairs and close the bedroom door - but the battle rages on outside the door. There's no escape....and then J. does his best to distract me...to snap me out of that realization that there is NOWHERE FOR ME TO GO....and I think 'are you out of your mind? YOU have the same equipment they do and THAT makes you a man and I'VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF MEN FOR THE MOMENT - THANK YOU VERY MUCH!'

And that stark realization that since it appears (still) that B. is intending to stay home and go to LPC for a couple years, we have TWO MORE YEARS of this crap to endure. Wow. I hope I make it.

A teen boy lived in our 'old' house - the condo. And I remember thinking when we first looked at that house 'how can one kid tear up a room so much'? And now I know. And I'm not saying that B. got 'physical' with an object - or with his brother. He didn't. But he IS physical - doors are opened roughly. Drawers are slammed. B. doesn't just ENTER a room - he PLOWS THROUGH a room - and more-so when he's pissed. Neither of them are careful with things. They are just boys - blundering, sweaty, angst-filled boys. And the home is starting to show the wear and tear of two boys.

And so is their mother.