I know. It’s a funny title. But one I firmly believe in. Hopefully not too many men are offended. Why can’t men be hormonal? I think they are. They have the same moody trends and unexplainable emotional roller coaster that women do. It’s cataclysmic when it coincides with a womans cycle.
I see it in my boys all the time. Today was a perfect example. One little comment, and in less than 30 seconds, all reason has been thrown out the window and the little mechanism that monitors verbal speech is stuck in the off position. I know they don’t have any control over it, which is why I’m thinking it’s hormonal. When it happens to me, I don’t have any control over it either (well, O.K., I do, but I’m sometimes lousy at it).
Take for instance the time the *&(^) neurologist walked out on Roo’s appointment because we didn’t see eye to eye on whether or not he needed to know every tiny detail of the previous five years of therapy in order to evaluate him for seizures. I got the impression he was trying to say it was his autism, and that I was wasting his time. Just let me say that I marched after him, and after having discourse of a rather colorful nature with his office staff, proceded to tell the completely full waiting room what a rotten doctor he was. Was that his period, or mine? Probably both. He was a jerk, and I didn’t take kindly to it. I should’ve taken the higher road, but didn’t. The collective shock of the staff at my language in front of my own child should have moved me to shut up, but it didn’t. I was on a roll and so was the jerk.
I absolutely hate days like that. I take it to heart, and have trouble disengaging, just like this evening. The trouble started in the car on the way home from school, and culminated in a knock-down drag out between two of the boys right before dinner while the third was smart enough to remove himself by disappearing into the basement. Sent to their rooms for the remainder of the evening, I find myself annoyed and irritated because even when it’s not really about me, I find the testosterone violence disturbing.
I don’t know why I expect there to never be moments where they behave like kids. They are kids. Three, practically the same age. Not exactly a recipe for serenity. The only thing I’m fairly certain about is, I don’t think I’m going to view the empty nest quite like others.