I woke up this morning with a firm resolution to stick to the principle of not getting into arguments with Robbie, and this was soon put to the test. I'd overslept slightly, and instead of getting up at 7, which gives me enough time to run Robbie's bath, I got up at 7.15, his getting up time. I told Robbie that we didn't have time for baths and he could shower instead. In our house he's happy to shower, but he's not had one yet in the step-house and he refused to. Rather than get into an argument I gave him a choice: to shower or not to wash at all. He didn't respond, so I got in the shower instead.
When I finished get dressed I found him on the stairs itching for a fight. I simply told him to get downstairs for his breakfast. He said he wasn't hungry and he was going for a poo. Once again, I gave him a choice: he could have breakfast with me then or not have breakfast at all. He chose to go to the loo.
After finishing in the loo, he asked for his cereal. I reminded him that he'd chosen not to have it, but said he could have an orange juice if he wanted to. He tried the usual, "you don't like me" stuff, which I completely ignored, and a couple of minutes later he joined me at the table and had his juice. He takes a pot of fruit to school and they eat fairly early, so I knew he wouldn't starve. He seemed to be in a good mood when I dropped him off at school.
I had a brief chat with his teacher to plan our day in court and manage his name change. He'll be off school that day and the idea is that the following morning we'll send him in with a picture or two from the courtroom so he can talk about it if he wants to. If he doesn't want to, then she'll tell the rest of the class about Robbie's special day and his new surname, so they can all get used to using it.
When I picked him up after school, we drove to the hairdresser's. Whilst he was having his haircut, I had a phone call from Miranda. I'd texted her after our meltdown on Wednesday but she hadn't got the message until then. I told her things were better now but we wanted to sort out the therapy as soon as possible. She agreed. We also agreed to meet directly in court next week and I told her we'd just be having a small celebration back in the house. She agreed that it's the best thing not to involve lots of people.
I decided that the phonecall from Miranda was the perfect excuse to tell Robbie about the date for our day in court, so as soon as we were finished at the hairdressers I excitedly told him about it. I made a point of looking really pleased so he could mirror my mood, but he didn't react at all. He just nodded. This is where I made the first of a long series of mistakes. I let his detachment get to me. I wanted him to be pleased and he didn't seem to be, which hurt me. I should have let him digest the news and told him he could ask any questions whenever, but instead I kept going on about it.
I explained that it'll be just the three of us, Phil and Elisabeth (his godparents), Nanny, Miranda, and Sarah. I also told him that this may be the last time that Sarah visits. Stupidly, I asked him how he felt about saying goodbye to Sarah. He said he was sad about it. I replied I was surprised because I didn't think he liked her. "I like her but I don't like her coming over", he said. "Well, she won't any more", I replied. I added that we'll still hear from his siblings through our contact arrangements. He was still completely unemotional and detached. So I kept pushing. I asked him how he felt about going to court. "I don't feel anything". "oh, so you're not pleased that we'll finally be a forever family?", I asked. "I don't feel anything", he repeated. I don't know what came over me, but I just wouldn't let it go. I guess it was the disappointment of his reaction not meeting my expectations. I kept asking until he got really angry with me.
He stormed off into the house ahead of me. Glen asked Robbie why he looked so angry, but he refused to answer. I explained "the good news" and how Robbie wasn't pleased about it. Robbie became quite unsettled, kept shouting he won't go to the court and he'll tell the judge he doesn't want to be adopted by us, and walked off. We gave him a few minutes to calm down. When we went upstairs to check on him he was doing his homework, bless him. He clearly wanted to do something to please us, as he never does it of his own accord.
Glen knows Robbie doesn't like to talk about feelings when asked directly and he opens up better if you talk to him whilst doing something else, so he went up to our improvised playroom and together they set up Robbie's train track. While they did so, Robbie told Glen that he was worried about going to court, asked him if we know the judge, who else will come... At the end of the conversation Glen promised him that when we get back to our house he can use some of his office space in the loft conversion as a play area, and suggested a takeaway. Then, when they came down, Glen disappeared downstairs. This made me cross for a number of reasons: first, the play area and takeaway are something we've discussed before and he didn't say "Dad and I have decided", but passed it off as his own idea (Glen = good cop). Also, whenever I have a chat with Robbie, I always tell him that together we're going to tell Glen what we've talked about, so that there aren't any secrets,. Glen didn't extend me the same courtesy.
Robbie came to find me to finish reading his book, which we did. When it was over, I asked what he and Glen had talked about in the playroom. He claimed he couldn't remember. This made me cross and he could see it in my eyes, so he stormed off. When he got downstairs Glen asked him why he was angry, and Robbie refused to explain to Glen, so Glen ignored him.
At dinner Robbie still refused to say what Glen and he had talked about. Glen didn’t want to tell me himself because he thought Robbie should be the one to tell me. I changed subject and asked Robbie what he did at school. He refused to tell me that too, even though he knew that would mean he wouldn't get a sticker for it. While he ate, his shirt sleeve kept dragging on his buttered piece of bread and I asked him to be careful with it, but he ignored me. I picked up the piece of bread and chucked it on Glen's empty plate, which Robbie interpreted as a threat. Immediately, he went into a rage and threw his napkin at me.
I shouted at Robbie that I will not be attacked in my own home and walked off. I was truly furious. So much so that when Robbie came to apologise I wasn't ready to accept it and he became quite upset again. Glen had a chat with him and he tried to apologise again, this time with Glen. I accepted the apology and they told me a little about their conversation. I was still seething from Robbie's "attack" and it was obvious to Robbie, though. He said I must hate him. I replied I don't, but added that judging by what he says and how he treats me, he must hate me. Robbie stormed off one more time. Glen, who'd taken a while to calm him down, wasn’t best pleased with me.
Glen got Robbie ready for bed. He convinced him to come and say goodnight, but when he came into the room I ignored him. I know was being petty, but I couldn't stand the sight of him right then. I was really struggling to keep it together. The last few days have been so hard and I just felt like Robbie's punchbag. He stormed off one more time and Glen put him to bed. Robbie told him that he thinks I hate him.
A few minutes after Glen put him to bed I went into his bedroom and kissed him goodnight. I said I loved him and he said he loved me too. After that, Glen and I had a huge argument for the next two hours. I told Glen I'm just not going to put up with being hit any more, because it's destroying me. I feel worthless being treated like that. Glen thinks I scare Robbie when I do things like taking his bread away and that by rising to his outbursts instead of ignoring him I make Robbie go into "fear mode", which is when he attacks.
All in all, another miserable day. I went to bed wondering how I could face Robbie in the morning. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to even smile at him. I love him so much, yet I feel like a victim of domestic abuse. Only my attacker is a 7-year-old whom I can't stand up to, reject, or walk away from.