A tale of 2 Ryans

The "public" Ryan and the "home" Ryan are obviously 2 different people. It seems that everywhere I go, somebody wants to share with me how sweet, funny or helpful Ryan is. This is hard for me to wrap my head around and truthfully, although I'm glad he's well behaved for them, it just makes his behavior at home that much harder to take. Obviously, he CAN behave. He just chooses NOT to at home.

This summer each child in the house was given a section of the flower bed to weed - and by weed, I mean tear everything OUT. It wasn't as if they had to be careful or anything - just clear it out. Much like I remember doing to my dad's flowerbed as a child -- only I WAS supposed to be careful and I cleared it out entirely.

Wes and Jacob got in theirs and went at it like a warrior set on destroying a village and were done in about 4 minutes. Ryan - not so much. He did nothing. But sit. This behavior got rewarded by the addition of a section of fence row to also be weeded. Which didn't get done and was added to and so on and so on and so on till it seemed as if Ryan would be weeding the entire neighborhood - except he didn't.

When Bill and I went to Louisville for my doctor's appointment and his birthday, Ryan was supposed to be pulling weeds on the Saturday. Was he? Nope. He had gone outside, walked around the house and climbed through our bedroom window - breaking it in the process - where he had intended to just hang out all day in the air conditioned bedroom. Our nice weekend trip was interrupted by a call about Ryan's behavior that pretty much ruined Bill's birthday.

Of course Bill was the one giving out the punishment and I was the one that was supposed to be enforcing it because Bill would be at work. Frankly, I was tired of dealing with it so I made a great deal with Ryan. Sweep off and clean up the garage patio and we would call it even. This chore would have taken about 10 minutes at most while working in complete shade, compared with HOURS of pulling weeds in the hot sun. He jumped at the chance to do it and I went off to work - feeling a bit better about the world - glad the punishment would be behind us and Ryan would have yet another fresh start.

I felt great -- till I got home 6 hours later. The porch was untouched and Ryan had gone to bed right before he knew I was to be home. I sent for him and told him to go out and get his job done. It was about 8:15 in August. Not dark by any means. Plus he had the kitchen light, the dining room light, the porch light, the garage light and the flood light on the garage turned on. The yard was lit up like a stadium.

Does he sweep the porch so he can go back to bed? Nope. He stands out in the back yard and yells at the top of his lungs for about 30 minutes. "MY MOTHER HAS LOCKED ME OUT OF THE HOUSE. MY MOTHER IS MAKING ME DO CHORES IN THE DARK. MY MOTHER WON'T LET ME GO TO BED TILL I GET MY CHORE DONE." Over and over and over.

I sat inside - turned the TV up and indeed, made him do the chore before he went to bed. Call me harsh that way.

School started and with it, a glorious period of time every day when Ryan was out of the house and peace permeated the premises. He came home from school and was cheerfully telling me about the chore he volunteered to do at school - take out the trash cans from the school cafeteria every day.

UNBELIEVABLE. The kid who mutters and mumbles hatefully through every chore at home is volunteering to take the trash out for hundreds of kids at school.

Ryan has not been allowed to go fishing by himself for a year - due to some behavioral issues. The behavior led to him being hospitalized in a residential psychiatric hospital for almost 4 months. Two weeks ago, I relented on this and let him go fishing. Truthfully, I think it was as much for me as for him. It's peaceful in the house when he's gone. Sad, but true.

The Saturday before Labor Day I let Ryan fish all day. Sunday, after church, Bill took him fishing out on the boat for hours. Labor Day, they fished on the boat till about 1, then Bill came home, dropping Ryan off at the park where Ryan continued fishing till Bill went to get him for dinner about 6:30.

When he came in from over 12 straight hours of fishing I told him to take the trash cans to the curb after dinner. He exploded and threw a hissy fit over having to do that -- the same kid who voluntarily took trash out every day at school was raging over having to wheel two containers 12 feet.

He finally did it and after his rant, I was about done for. Bill had taken Keegan to Wal-Mart and I was going to go meet some friends for a bit. We had just sat down to our chips and salsa when my phone rang. Ryan had wanted Carly to do something for him and when she told him no, he immediately had her on the ground in a choke hold. I had to leave and go home to deal with Ryan -- again.

Every day is like that with Ryan - one battle after another. All. The. Time.

It's hard to reconcile the two personas of Ryan. It would be nice if he would show his school side at home. If he would show the "camp favorite" I hear about from the leaders at Studio Bee to his family. But he doesn't. And knowing that he could just makes it harder to accept. Truthfully, I'm pretty fed up with dealing with him.

This summer we were scheduled to go on a little trip to St. Louis. Instead I took a little trip in a helicopter to the hospital. And our St. Louis trip was rescheduled. We will be going in a few weeks. Me, Jacob, Carly, Wesley, Sophie and Keegan. Not Ryan. Nobody wants to deal with his behavior. Least of all me. We all just want to go have a good time.

So we are. And he's not. He will be staying home with Bill. I'm perfectly OK with that decision. In fact, I'm kinda relieved by it.

I know there will be people who will think badly of me for making this decision. Know what? I don't care. At all. Those people don't live in our house. Specifically, they don't live with Ryan. They don't see what we see or hear what we hear. They aren't treated like we are.

One thing Ryan has certainly taught me is to not be so judgmental. You truly never know what goes on in a house unless you live there. And then ~~ sometimes, you wish you didn't.