My oldest son was a pain in the butt growing up, espiecially in his teen years. His father had custody of him and was inclined to rely on my oldest son to constantly play babysitter for his two younger brothers. My oldest son did the best he could but it was alot of pressure to put on a very young teen. His father bought him anything and everything he wanted to ensure his cooperation. Hes younger brothers began to feel terrorized as my oldest son became more and more dictorial.

His father had to go for an extended week long trip for business. I would not stay at the boys house as my ex-husband allowed the cats to mess all over the floor and the house smelled. I did call the child protective services, however; they came to the house and wrote him up for violations and never went back to follow through to make sure he cleaned up. He didn't.

When my new husband and I came to pick the boys up to take them to our place, my oldest son firmly stated he wasn't going anywhere then ran into his room and slammed his door. I went to his door and firmly told him he was a chid and did not have a choice. He immediately accused of child abuse, and chased me into the living room beating me with a large walking. My new husband grabbed him and my oldest son started beating him to.

I called the police at my oldest son's insistence. When the police arrived he accused us of child abuse. However, after seeing the bruises my husband and I had they cuffed him and put him in foster care.

I loved my son dearly. He had been diagnosed with auditory processing brain damage as a child. Socially he was an outcast at school. When his father got home we went to court and the judge gave my oldest son two options. He could move in with my new husband and myseld or stay in foster care. He chose to live with me. His behaivior continued. He tried to run away to his Dad's but we would catch him and bring him back. His father tried to hard to be his best friend. His intentions were good and worked well with his younger sons. Robert needed a parent, not a friend. When he started leaving his room in a diasterous state, I told him to clean his room. Naturally he refused. I told him he was in my house now and had to follow my rules. He still would not follow my rule. I have no idea where the idea came from but I marched downstairs, grabbed some tools from the tool box when he was at school, and removed his door and hid it.

It seemed to be just the thing to turn him around. I made the point very clearly that he was in my house and I would enforce my rules in a rather resourceful way. He ran around yelling and chasing me demanding I put his door back on. When he saw I was ignoring his demands, he finally cleaned his room. I never had to do it a second time. Our relationship boundaries had been set and Robert's grades improved dramatically, he began making friends easier, he found an afterschool job and paid for his first car.

I wish I could say his life went great from that point on, but he made many bad choices in his twenties. He is back on track right now and appears to now be able to work and be independent.

Is it wrong to point out success stories in your life without sounding like you are bragging? I am not the perfect mother. I have made my share of mistakes.

Vicky

Vicky