'Cause I Forget by the Time Therapy Rolls Around

Of course, since school starts tomorrow, we had to have a big blowout tonight to celebrate. Not the cake and balloons kind, the hit-your-mom-and-act-completely-out-of-your-gourd kind. We came in tonight around 8:00 to start winding down and getting ready for tomorrow. I was preparing for washing the dishes, and D started asking what can he do that is not boring. Being the horrible killer of all fun that I am, I decreed there would be no tv, movies, or video games before bed. This is his cue to do his broken record routine. Tonight it was "what can I do something fun?" This is not an exact quote, as I cannot remember what he was actually saying. He very often has bizarre sentence structure, and the tendency increases with his level of distress. After doing my best to ignore the performance, I began my own repeated reply of "go get ready for bed". Leads to the usual: I try to get away and remain as calm as possible as he follows and steadily increases his demand for attention. He ranted and wasted away the time that we would have spent reading, then it was agreed that I would come up for the bedtime hang out/cuddle. But he just had to throw one more pile of socks at my face. I told him to forget it. Nuclear explosion. He started smashing me and pushing on my arm after I went and layed down on the couch on the porch. I said something about he must be scared, maybe for tomorrow, and that's why he feels like he has to be some kind of badass trying to bully his mom to hide the fear. A little too close to the truth? He started smacking my head and face. Ripping blankets and pillows and cushions off the couch. I still was refusing to play the game and continued telling him to go to bed. He tried to get my head in the pillowcase he had in his hand, and when that failed he just kept hitting me with it. I started crying and told him I was sorry he was so hurt that he didn't know the proper way to express his emotions. I went up to his room and invited him into bed with me so I could cuddle him and when he snuggled up, I said it is not fair that he never had parents that he felt safe enough with that he could talk about his feelings instead of having to try to be tough and feel like he had to protect himself. His reply was laughter and "How romantic!" I think he meant "touching" but, again, doesn't have the vocab to know the right words. I just looked at him and he stopped laughing and put his head down and I stayed for a few minutes with my arm draped over his back. He came downstairs about an hour later and said his mouth was dry. I made him tell me how he could solve that problem, and then made him do it. I'm going to have to insist on having him owe me restitution somehow, so we are likely to have a repeat or two in the next few days. Yippee!