Rhys’ additions to the wall didn’t end with his query into more changes.  He felt he could do it himself. I’m guessing that last part where I said we’d have someone come to help went into the abyss of information a child cuts from his consciousness once he hears the answer he wants.

 He heard, “I’m open to that.”  He took that as me saying, “Yes, go ahead… “ He proceeded to screw screws from the back side out to the front finished side.  This caused 2 problems, obvious to me and somehow not to him.

First, there were now brand new holes in the wall that did not belong.  Again, a destruction of the time and finish it took to give this wood wall a look of beauty.  Now again, what originally was, what was intended, has again been destroyed.

Never will it look the same.  The feeling of this underlying life message continually given to me was getting really obnoxious and defeating. Second, these new holes sported the sharp end of the screws sticking through the part of the wall that was meant for climbing.

 Now, as climbers climbed the front side of the wall, there were VERY sharp screws that were not super visible and very dangerous and drew blood every time you brushed against one as you climbed from rock to rock. 
The other little boys stopped playing on the wall.  I didn’t know why.  I was sad… why won’t they play on it I wondered.  I didn’t have to wait long to find out why. Grant’s brother and his family came to visit.  They have 3 adorable little girls. 

I felt excited for them to come and climb and play with us.  As soon as they arrived, my little nieces climbed and climbed.  After the first day, all three of them were covered in little bloody scrapes.  What is that from I thought in anguish?!!  The rock wall they said.

There are sharp pokies sticking out of it they brought to my attention.  What?!?  I thought, so confused.  I went to look.  As I got closer I could see dozens of sharp screws sticking through the wall violently protesting any fun anyone could have on this wall of my dreams…

When I discovered the cause of these little scrapes all over my sweet little nieces and connected that to WHY my little ones, Rhys’ brothers were no longer willing to climb the wall… I was not happy about this, to say the least. 

I began to see all the dreams I’d had to climb with the boys and others and to just watch them play there were dashed. In this moment the wall had gone from fun to pain. It all made sense now. My anger and disappointment were filling my insides. 

It was just a rock climbing wall.  But, I had spent months planning it and saving money for it. I paid for it in full. I created it for the kids, for our home, for our friends and for an enjoyable bonding, close, easy to have experience.

Now it had brought us all pain in the destruction of what he’d done. Maybe you can imagine my rage at this.  My body was taken over with anger and resentment and feelings of violation.  I was upset before when we talked, but this time, times 10. 

This time, I wasn’t going to hold back because I was so upset.  I’d already been nice about it, teaching and training and yet, it was happening again.  The feeling of violation took over. 

The beautiful side of the wall now had sharp points coming out all over and fresh holes in the front of the wall that didn’t belong.  It had happened again. This time I yelled. I screamed and cried.  I felt just as broken as the wall.  

It felt as if everything good I was trying to do everywhere was just being broken the moment I finished it.  I told him he needed to pay for the damage and undo it immediately.  He did say he was sorry. He said he thought I’d said he could put wall grips up on the other side…

No… I did not say that! The feeling of being misunderstood at every turn, took over me. He took the screws out right away, but it left the wall with gaping holes that broke my heart.  He said he’d fix the holes and the part where the cord had been. 

I felt more broken now than ever.  It felt as if this wall was me. I had no more power to give in that moment. At that point I walked away from it.  I just couldn’t look at it right now.  I needed to cool down again and then we could continue our talk.

It was the healthiest thing I could do for both him and me in that instant, so I did. At least was able to set the expectation the next day that it be fixed just how it was before he decided to make unapproved modifications. Then as moms need to do, I took a break from the whole situation.

The next day I asked him to fix it and repair the damage and how I expected it to be done. I was sad. I felt so alone. How do I teach these hard lessons without help? I must not have done it right. Maybe I didn’t listen enough or I didn’t say it right.

I didn’t show enough compassion possibly… all these things are going through my head. That’s where I was at now. It all felt like that feeling, the one I was trying that says everything is good, kept getting broken.