The Face of Evil

I believe the devil has left Georgia and is currently residing in my eldest son. His behavior on all levels, especially toward his brother, has escalated to astronomic proportions; hitting, biting, back talking, complete defiance, and general shit-headed-ness. He fails to show an ounce of remorse for his actions, or any sign of caring about the consequences. Wrap all this up into a 3 day weekend and you can imagine the mix of rage, terror and frustration Brian and I are experiencing. Not unlike an animal snared in a trap from which they can't escape. Though at this point, being locked up in cage sounds pretty good to us.

Brian woke up with the boys Saturday and things were off to a rough start. Charlie decided everything that Gregory picked up was 'his' and would rip it out of his hands. Gregory of course wailed. Taking things away from Gregory was like Charlie's gateway drug, similar to pot. He quickly moved on to hitting his brother whenever he came near one of his toys; we'll call that his cocaine phase. And finally he advanced to the big leagues, crystal meth, or biting his brother. No matter what Brian took away or how loud he yelled, Charlie continued along his path of aggression, smiling the whole way.

I was trying to ignore the piercing screams (from both father and child) by pulling the covers over my head. When that didn't work, I jumped in the shower in an attempt to completely block out the noise. Unfortunately, Charlie's room shares a wall with our bathroom. It was like having a cell next to the torture room at Abu Ghraib.

I padded into the living room where Gregory was playing alone, Brian was sitting in a chair silent, either crying or sweating, and Charlie was half laughing, whimpering in his room. What happened?

Apparently, after breakfast, Brian felt nature's call. He decided things were calm enough that he could take 2 minutes (or 15) to visit the bathroom. As Brian was leaving the room, he quickly glanced back to see Charlie punch/shove his brother in the back, then quickly move around to the front as Gregory was falling, then push him in the chest, sending him backwards. Remember those blow up punching bags from when you were a kid, the ones with the sand in the bottom so they could never fall over, they just kind of smacked the ground then bounced back up. Brian said Gregory looked like that. Which is what lead to their little tete-a-tete in Charlie's bedroom and my early wake up call.

No one was happy and this was the beginning of a long weekend. It went down hill from there. We yelled over and over again, we ignored, we punished, we took away everything Charlie held near and dear to his heart - Caillou, blocks, books, dessert, etc. and yet he continued on his rampage of terror against his brother and us. I sat on my knees, staring into his big brown eyes searching for some softness, some semblance of the adoring little boy he was just last week. But this monster actually seemed to be enjoying the attention as he came back time and time again, doling out more pain.

I spoke to one of Charlie's teachers later on Saturday. She offered up the theory that he's still adjusting to life with a younger brother. Now that Gregory is mobile, wanting to do everything his big brother does, getting into all of his stuff, and demanding just as much attention, Charlie's life as our main focus has truly come to an end. Maybe he'll move out?

I guess he's mad and this pattern of aggression (and deafness) is his way of rebelling. So what can you do? You keep on moving. We're attempting to switch up our approach to things by removing ourselves and Gregory from the room when Charlie acts up (the boy hates to be ignored). No TV until night time, and only then if he's been a good listener and kind to his brother. We hope that tomorrow will be better, that Charlie will be better, and that we'll be better.

Of course as I post this entry, Charlie has been the embodiment of all things good and sweet today, like a little angel who listens, behaves, says please and thank you. Or like a sociopath plotting his next move, lulling his victims into a false sense of calm and ease. I think he has us exactly where he wants us.