Not the birthday story I thought I’d write.

David’s Birthday was last Saturday.  Number Nine.  Last of the single digits.

Sometimes when we talk it seems he’s grown up overnight.  So wise my little guy.  I did manage to get up earlier than him to wrap his presents which were the obligatory Game Cube and DS games.  Novelty toys.  So much easier to buy for the little guys.  Cheaper too.

He had a friend over all day that he hadn’t really played with in the past year.  The boys decided Kristian needed to spend the night so we called and arranged it with his mom.  She needed to go to Walmart to get him depends or something like that because apparantely both he and his brother have ‘accidents’ and was I cool with that?  Well of course I’m cool with that.  Though I do wonder why some kids are like that.  Sheryl says Kristian’s brother wets the bed every night.  I think he’s 10 or 11.

Marko and I took the boys to Red Robin for dinner, which is his absolute favourite and my absolute worst.  The place as usual was incredibly packed, so we waited about 20-30 minutes.  They have a little arcade in there so the boys were thrilled until the quarters ran out.  Then because we were scrunched by the door they performed door service for everyone either walking in or out.  Too cute really.

The lady asked us if we needed kid menus and I looked at the two hearty 9 yr olds and said "No, they’ll be ordering off the adult menu."  Both boys were cracking us up seriously.  They were just so fun to be with.  We came away stuffed after eating big old fatty burgers.

I went to bed fairly early and the boys played video games until 12:30.  Then I heard them get up at 6:30 am and start back in it.  This is highly unusual for David as he usually is a 12 hour sleeper.  Sheryl picked the boys up around 1:00 pm and took them to the Bainbridge Island pool then to McD’s before bringing him home.

An all in all full weekend for Dave.

This next part I don’t really want to write about, but feel I must because I do sense it broke something inside David.

My husband has anger issues that are becoming worse as the teenagers grow older.  He really blew his top at Jeffrey and Sasha Sunday night.  He screamed at them and broke Jeff’s door.  There is a lot more to it than that, but this is really the first time I feared that maybe there would be physical violence.  There wasn’t ultimately, but there was also no rationality.  No reason, other than the usual noise and usual teenager disregard for everyone else or everything else.  It started because we hid all the soda in the house.  The diet stuff I like to take to work with me.  Jeff and Sash had already in three days gone through a case of soda and frankly there is so much other stuff in the house to drink that I said I wasn’t going to go buy any more until next weekend.  I could see Jeff really jonesing about it, wanting one badly.  Pacing about looking for what to drink.  He took a juice drink out of the fridge I had been saving and opened it and took a swig.  I shook my head at him and told him that was mine and thanks a lot for even asking.  It was not a big deal to me, but it was enough for Marko to be sent over the moon.  And from there is just escalated into everything, anything.  Nothing I could say or do.

So David and I was upstairs in my bedroom snuggling and watching TV and Marko had disappeared somewhere.  Apparantely he went into David’s room to sleep, whatev.  Then all of the sudden I’m hearing the yelling and whatnot.  Jeff was making too much noise with his PC and Sasha was out jumping on the trampoline at 10:00 pm which is right outside David’s window.  Yeah, maybe the teenagers are out of control.  Maybe they need a talking to yes, I agree.  Screaming uncontrollably?  ALL THE FUCKING TIME?  Not my style.  So Marko comes in and takes a shower and gets dressed.  I asked him where he’s going and he says he going to work.  Which is ridiculous as there are no ferries running that will get him there.  I recognize at this point that I can only make things worse and David is trying to comfort me by saying that it’s Dad’s choice to be such a fruitcake, but really wishes he would see the good in Jeffrey.

Marko left, Jeff came in and sat on the bed and hugged me cause I was crying.  I made him promise me not to push him when he’s like that, to walk away, to back down, to not escalate.

I just can’t do this any more.  But I always say that.  Jeffrey tucked David into bed for me and Marko came back in about 45 minutes later, heard him yell at the boys again about what the fuck were they smoking outside and don’t lie to me and bullshit (didn’t hear what the boys were saying to him) then he came to bed.  Hugged me, said he was sorry.  I said sorry doesn’t really cut it any more and that he really needs to see someone.  I went to sleep. I feel terrible, because I don’t feel like I’m properly protecting my kids.

Today when I dropped Jeff to school I asked Jeff what were they doing outside and smoking what.  He said they went outside to see where Dad had gone.  I said bullshit, but what can you do other than preach the good sermon there.  I have yet to find any indiscriminate evidence(I’ve looked), but have no doubts they’re dabbling.

Jeff is 17 going 120.  Sash will be 18 in less than two months.  They are both great kids.  Yeah, sure, they’re inconsiderate and loud and total sponges.  And I nag and preach and love them.

And I love Marko too.

But honestly, David is my greatest focus at his young and tender age.  My greatest love.

*sigh*  rambling.

*edit*  Everyone knows my husband is Finnish right?  When he’s angry his English goes all to hell.  It really sends my brain into a knot hearing him yell at the kids in completely destroyed English.  nuff said.