July 13, 2008

He's gone.

It's not official, but SOBF could hear it in his voice on the phone last night; Spawn 2.0 is likely gone for good.

I mentioned before that he had only called a few times since leaving, and the last three times were only to talk to SOBF to ask when his skateboard will arrive.  Last night he called to ask yet again, and questioned whether or not we had really sent it, "like that time you said we were going to build a go-cart."  He was bringing up things we had planned to do in the past and just never gotten to, or which hadn't happened because life did; something a ten year old can't really be expected to understand, I guess.  SOBF thought his tone said it all; accusatory, questioning the veracity of what he was being told, boastful about his weekly allowance and what he's saving it up for (a motor-scooter, apparently).  It seems pretty obvious that he's been regaling the Egg Donor with the tales of all the woe which has betided him while living here; all the broken promises, lack of allowance, rules we make him follow, etc. etc.  As, to be fair, he would do here if the situation was reversed.  I like to think that we'd take it all with a grain of salt, but who knows.  We do suspect she's buying it all because it benefits her to do so.

I'm not sure how to feel.  On the one hand, I'm relieved, because that child has been a thorn in my backside for going on three years with no improvement.  Every time I thought he was getting better he was just behaving better in order to score something.  When I let down my guard and gave him the benefit of the doubt he took advantage.  I saw no real change in his person over the years, just a change in how he presented himself.  All he really got better at was hiding his true nature.  To be completely honest, I have been scared, literally scared, of what the future held with this boy, for reasons I've never discussed here.  I'm going to do it now, only because I feel the need to get some of this off my chest, and also to illustrate why I use words such as "evil" to describe a young child.

In no particular order, here are some of the things we have dealt with:  hoarding of preferred snacks and toys, hiding them so his brothers couldn't eat or use them.  Constant lying.  Maneuvering to always get something first, or the better of a group of items, or the preferred seat in the car or at the table.  Never sharing unless forced and then sulking about being compelled to give something up, to the point where if he was forced to share something he decided he just didn't want it at all anymore.  Bragging about how much better at any given activity he is than everyone around him.

Ordering me around like I'm his personal slave.  No "please" or "thank you" unless forced.  Never apologizing for anything he's done wrong; never so much as admitting he was wrong.  No empathy.  No capacity to understand how people around him feel. 

We found a pocketknife in his school backpack and it took an hour of the most intense grilling for him to tell us where he got it and admit that he had actually put it in there himself.  He "hid" a penny behind a battery pack charger for a remote-controlled car, while it was plugged in, starting a small fire which burned the penny to the carpet and caused a 2nd degree burn on his hand, but it took more than an hour to get him to admit he knew anything about it, and even then he tried to blame other people for forcing him to put it there.

He came to work with me on take your child to work day and while playing with the typewriter, wrote "Die [jennaratrix] Die" on a piece of paper, handing it to me with an evil smile on his face, thinking that "I was only kidding!" would be a reasonable explanation.

He has told Spawn 3.0 that he will kill him someday.

When one of the pet rats that Spawn 2.0 took care of died, he didn't cry or show any emotion whatsoever; he just asked a lot of questions about how he died.  Like, if I could tell how he died.  So many times that I seriously suspect that Spawn 2.0 (hopefully accidentally) did something to him that caused him to die; when he told us that Mr. Whiskers wasn't moving and I went to check, Mr. Whiskers was still warm and had obviously been dead for a very short time, so much so that I wasn't entirely sure he was dead.

I already regaled the haircut incident; that was par for the course.  He saved up every real and imagined slight from me to repeat to his mother for sympathy and in order to join her in badmouthing me; she had a very willing participant in her quest to undermine my authority in my house in Spawn 2.0.  He was told in so many words that he didn't have to do anything I said, and he adhered strictly to that.  There was never a single thing I ever told him to do or not to do that did not result in an argument.  Never.  We argued every single day without fail, usually about very petty things like homework, getting dressed, bed time and regular chores.

I'm sorry to say it, but I don't miss any of this.  Every kind word, every affectionate gesture, every attempt to do the right thing, was just a calculated move to either get something he wanted or disarm us so he could blindside us later.  EVERY SINGLE TIME.  I can pair every positive act with a request for something, usually something unrealistic.  Birthday and Christmas presents were never enough; two years in a row he would get to the last present in, really, a rather impressive Christmas haul, and scream and cry because there was nothing else (my mother witnessed this one year).  He was completely inconsolable when a child at his first birthday party here broke the pinata open instead of him; he spent the next hour crying and pissed, and was ready for everyone to go home.

Every child of his age in the neighborhood is "his" friend.  When Spawn 3.0's only neighborhood buddy comes over, Spawn 2.0 latches on and eventually separates him from his brother.  He is the ringleader in every adventure, and tends to choose as friends children a little younger than him so he can more easily boss them around.

He is a horrid, narcissistic, greedy little brat and I'm not sorry he's gone.  I truly believe that there is something wrong in the way his mind works, and have spent the better part of the past three years reading up on various personality disorders to find the best way of dealing with the way he thinks, to some effect but no real identifiable change.  I was not and am not attempting to diagnose a disorder; I just wanted to get some advice on ways to deal with people who think the way Spawn 2.0 does so I would know how to (and how not to) react.  What I found scared me even more, and to be completely honest - I hope I'm wrong.  I don't want to be right, about any of the things I'm unsure of.  I sincerely hope I'm totally over-reacting and being an uninformed armchair psychiatrist, and that really, the kid just wanted to live with his mother and was acting out any way he could to get what he wanted.  And that now everyone will live happily ever after, marry princesses and live in fairy castles in the sky.

You can see how likely I think that all is.  However, it is possible that Spawn 2.0 and his mother are enough alike that living with her really will be the magic fix, at least as far as he is concerned, and the beneficial by-product will be peace in my home.  It's really all I can hope for, since the alternatives to that scenario are nothing if not grim.

July 12, 2008

Open Letter to the Spawns' Mother (#3)

Dear Egg Donor:

Well, here we all are.  You got the kid you wanted and now you don't call your other two children.  I wish I could say I was surprised.

It was a lot of fun having you in my house to (not) pack up Spawn 2.0 for his "visit." I loved you standing around his room telling me the same story about the dreamcatcher you sent him for Christmas that first year three times; at least it gave me an opportunity to tell you that I didn't need the note you so thoughtfully provided telling me what it was and what to do with it.  I resisted the first two times you explained where it came from, but by the third explanation (in 5 minutes) that Pfc Saveaho's relative the witch doctor (shaman?  spirit healer?  whatever) had made and blessed it, I felt it was time to shut you up.  Not that it worked; I'm pretty sure you don't actually listen to other people during what you call a conversation and I perceived as a monologue.  You didn't listen to anything I said about health insurance or other details about the potential transfer of custody of Spawn 2.0.  Again, I can't say I was terribly surprised.

We have heard from Spawn 2.0, of course:  three times.  Once the day after he arrived so that he could tell his brothers that the first thing he did was jump into your pool; once to ask if we could ship his skateboard to him; and once to find out if we'd done it yet.  The second two calls he did not want to talk to his brothers; presumably, because he hadn't done anything cool that he could shove in their faces.  They didn't seem especially upset.  You didn't speak to your children on any of those occasions.  Again, they didn't seem upset, but who knows.  These kids have gotten pretty good at hiding their feelings when it comes to you.

The sad fact is I can't muster the outrage your behavior used to inspire in me, which is probably making this letter a lot less entertaining than usual.  This is just the way that it is, and to be explosively upset by it is pointless.  The fact is, I think we are where you want to be.  You have the one of your first three children that is the most like you, the least like their father, and the one who doesn't like me.  You two are peas in a pod.  And now that you have the one you wanted, the one that will allow you to legitimately claim an additional dependent on your tax returns next year (as you requested 2 years ago, inexplicably), you don't need the other two.  All of this just confirms something I suspected beginning last Christmas; I knew you were up to something.  You began sending cards and care packages for minor holidays - Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Easter - holidays you had ignored for the previous two years.  You sent Spawn 1.0 Proactiv, all three boys boxes of new clothes (with the price tags still attached, naturally) and were calling about 3 times as often as usual.  I told SOBF at the time you were up to something and was just waiting to see what it was, and now we know.  You and Spawn 2.0 had discussed him coming to live with you when you were here for Christmas, you spent almost 5 months buttering all the kids up to see if you could snag the other two boys as well, and finally decided to discuss your plans with their father.  Once you got what you wanted, the phone calls and bribes stopped.  You've barely spoken to your other two children since this course of action was decided on.  So, business as usual.

Here's what we all expect is going to happen:  Spawn 2.0 is going to decide to stay for the school year.  At the end of the school year, you are going to approach SOBF with the idea of him terminating his parental rights to Spawn 2.0 so that Pfc Saveaho can adopt him.  A huge revelation (which we all already know) is finally going to come out into the open; although I suspect this big news has already been told to Spawn 2.0.  And after much agonizing (because we are decent people like that), SOBF is going to agree, if you agree to terminate your parental rights to Spawns 1.0 and 3.0, after which I can adopt them.  And then, we will never hear from you again.

Despite this just sounding like wishful thinking on my part, it's really not.  It sounds suspiciously like a trade, and while I don't think Spawn 2.0 will be all that upset that his dad was willing to give him away (which is surely the spin you'll put on it), I imagine the other two boys will think it kind of sucks.  Not that we'd ever put it to them quite that way.  And possibly, we wouldn't even really go through with all that, for that very reason.  We'll just have to see if that's what happens and decide then.

My suspicion is that this may be the last open letter.  It's starting to seem like I may not have any reason to "speak" to you in the future.  If that's the case, I'm not going to miss this, or you, at all.  Call it the silver lining.

Sincerely,

The woman helping to raise half your children

June 23, 2008

I'm an idiot.

This is probably not news to anyone who knows me.

Today's idiocy?  I was poking around at blogs I have linked on my site, and I noticed that the writer of one has me linked under Kansas City area blogs.  Right on, I'm in the area.  And I noticed the name of my site; which as most people realize, is a quote from The Wizard of Oz.  You know, that movie about the girl from Kansas?  The movie that everyone in this area hates with a passion, not least because Kansas City is in Missouri (well, most of it)?  Yeah.  That one.  That's the one my blog name is taken from.  Why am I an idiot?  BECAUSE I JUST MADE THE CONNECTION.

In my defense - I named the blog while I was living in DC and before I realized I would be moving to KC.  But I can't believe that I am just noticing NOW that my Kansas City area blog references The Wizard of Oz.  Duh.