"Hitting' has a certain level to be crossed before it becomes illegal, particullarly when it comes to discipline in the home...
My example:
The night before, Scott (adopted son(ex's real son)) has stated that he had finished his homework when queried...we took him at his word and trusted him to the point that he "earned" a particular reward...
The following morning, while I'm approaching the school to drop him off, he makes a comment such as "...Jeez! I wish I had finished the homework..."
WTH???
I put the truck back in gear and Scott and I are headed back home (He wanted to get to school that day for some special project/trip that they had planned...I don't remember...). I went "verbal" on him...I wanted to know why he lied to mom and me...no answer from him. I wanted to know why he expected me to leave him at school without his homework finished...no answer for that...
So, we're driving down the road, I'm blowing him away with logic versus no answers for his actions, when out of the corner of my right eye, I see his right fist coming for my face...I turn my head left and towards the rear...his fist glances off my temple, hooking my glasses and knocking them off my face...essentially, I'm on a public two-lane highway, driving blind with some 14yo trying to "Tysonize" me...
Before he could think to try a second shot, I hit the brakes (ABS) and steer the vehicle to the right and onto the shoulder...I looked over at the shape to my right and as he's rebounding off his seat belt, I back-hand him in the face (NOT a fist...an open-hand BACK of hand) and I feel something wet on the back of my hand.
GREAT!! I just broke his da*n nose!!! NOPE! I just got my hand buttered with snot! Hence, the reason for the origin of the termm "...knocked the snot out of him..." (To be perfectly honest, my first thought was that the snot was worse than the blood, then it was ah...OK...where do I wipe that stuff off on? On the truck seat? NOPE! HIS jacket!).
After wiping my hand off on his jacket, I reach down and grab my glasses off the floor...they weren't damaged...I put them back on, and when I focus again, I see that I'm about 5 feet back from a mailbox that would have been hit by the truck had I traveled 6 feet futher...said mailbox, being on a horizontal pole and free-floating would have nailed said-son in said-face had it made it through the windshield...
Then, I went verbalistic on his sorry-assed-ears...He's thinking I broke his nose, I pointed out you need blood for that to have happened, I tell him
I AM calling the cops when we get home...and I point out that it wasn't so much my driving skills that kept him from having a mailbox-sandwich with the knuckle chaser as it was God's doing that he got only what he got...so far.
I get back on the road, 4 gallons of andreneline (sp?) pumping through my veins...but I drive and mutter about every thought that's also pumping through my mind...and I let him know that he just broke the seal on a fast-moving can of whoop-ass that he hasn't even begun to taste yet...I believe at this time he's more in shock that I hit him back so fast...the speed is probably what shocked him more than the contact...
We get to the house, I pick up the phone, dial 9-1-1 and ask the dispatcher to get me two of La Crosse County's Biggest on site...I've got a teenager out of control...
Within 5 minutes, two squads arrive...I'm on the front porch waiting for them (I'm finishing up explaining to the wife what had happened...she's wanting to go into his room and pound a few "motherly touches" on her little one's rear...) and we start to go over with the two officers what happened...Scott sees that the squads have arrived and then he starts to come out and say that I punched him (In WI., two punches (one/person) results in the adult wearing the chrome bracelettes.). We ALL head back inside, Scott and one officer in his bedroom, mom and I in ours with the other...each side gives their statement...we're told to wait in the bedroom, our officer goes out...about two minutes later, our officer has us come out and in the living room, they have Scott in cuffs and they're asking me if I want him removed and booked in the Gray-bar motel...we find out that a closed first is assault...an open hand (either front or back) is permissible in certain contexts...I apparently lucked out in the context definition category.
Wife wants son in lockup...I say "Can we (wife and I) talk about this for a few minutes?"
Surprisingly, the officers think that's a good idea...they'll just get Scott out of the house and get him placed in the car for everyone's sake...(They DEFINATELY KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING HERE!!!!
)
Scott is in the "I'm sorry! Help me! I'll never breathe again without permission!" mode as he's led out the door and to the squad cars...
Wife wants him hung in the breeze (apparently she'd been dealing with his antics leading up to this...) and the officers then point out that whatever we decide, they'll back us up 110%...
Both officers come back in, Scott's belted and secured in the backseat with the window cracked open (end of May...NICE, SUNNY DAY)...crying for forgiveness and FULL OF REMORSE like we'd never seen, or heard!
After a good 10 minutes of pros/cons with the officers giving us their take on the situation, we keep the kid...they bring him back in and he's soaked from crying in the backseat of that squad...I'm afraid if we had said to the officers to give him a "once-around" the block, the skid-marks in his shorts would have been permanent!
They uncuffed him, he came over and hugged me and he cried even more when he hugged mom...the officers left and we had the best teenager in the neighborhood for over a month...
Needless to say, he got his homework done and he was able to head back to school the next day...not a problem...I treated it as if the whole situation never occured...
The point? It took someone, acting in the proper manner, to "jump him" fast enough to #1.) scare the crap out of him; #2.) the consequence of the actions had to be spelled out and followed through; #3.) the autorities to be involved and thankfully; #4.) the consequences worked out the way they did...
* - He punched.
* - I slapped back.
* - I told him X, Y and Z were going to happen.
* - X, Y and Z happened.
* - He had to think about why he was where he was and there was only one way to get out of it.
And finally...
* - Forgiveness does work.
raymr: I believe your SIL/Bro are in over their heads...particularly where the two of them haven't been able to agree on the EXACT method of taming the son. Until that happens, all the brainfawking in the world isn't going to help that kid...he's doomed.
As long as that household's supposed King/Queen aren't on "Page 1" with discipline, the execution of that discipline and the follow-through...all with approval of the right authorities...that kid will continue to play mom off dad, dad off mom and the cycle will continue...he sees two adults that don't have a clue and he's calling the shots. And, if you and your wife are getting the cold shoulder when YOU TWO try to tame their little one, that is just not right...period.
I'd suggest that you and your wife recommend to your brother that he's going to need to start squirrelling money away for a well-experienced, good divorce lawyer and seek custody of the daughter...let mom keep the brat...then seek a restraining order against the son...period. He's a bomb waiting to go off...and he will.
After your brother gets his nads restructured and hanging the way God intended, invite him and his daughter over and start the healing process and remember...the daughter is also a bigger victim in all of this...she's lost whatever togetherness of her parents that she thought she saw in them, she's missing her mother and she's missing that other person, however unreasonable he seemed...that's alot for a young child...she'll need more TLC than your brother...keep her in your thoughts and prays...I know I'm going to.
raymr, GL on this...it's not going to be easy in any way...this is one of those paths you know is out there, but it's one that is going to have to be taken...my prayers and thoughts will be with you and yours...