Our Wednesday, For Your Entertainment

OK, so now that I've had a chance to absorb a bit, and yes, even chuckle a little, I'm now going to tell you about our Wednesday.
SO...all week long I had fought and fought with Mr. D cause he was grouchy, and snippy, and smarmy, and just over-all ornery. He wouldn't listen to my instructions, or requests, and he did an amazing job of ignoring me as much as possible. Now, I had chalked this up to last Friday's Boy Scout Overnighter that we had attended (you know, the one where he stayed up until 3am?), and the resulting lack of sleep from said event. I had no idea...
Wednesday morning rolled around, and as I rolled out of bed (I had asked the Mr. to get D off to school and let me sleep in, but 5 minutes after he got up it became clear that wasn't going to happen) I could hear the Mr. trying to get D to get up and get dressed.
This should have been a clue as to how my day would go...you know that whole "which side of the bed did you roll out on" thing?
After about 8 minutes of trying to get D out of bed, and his subsequent moanings and groanings..."I'm tired", "I'm too heavy", "I'm cold", I finally had had enough. I walked over and stood him up, and attempted to dress him myself...the only problem was, he decided to go limp noodle.
Show of hands, how many of you readers have successfully dressed 6 year-old limp-noodle??
So, after dressing (due to the fact that each time I tried to push on a sleeve, or sock, or pant leg he was limp and it ended up slanting back into his body) he went running to daddy crying "Mommy punched me and she kinked my leg!".
Great.
I didn't even bother asking him to make his bed, I just did it myself.
Another 10 minutes and he's finally finished brushing his teeth, and we head downstairs for breakfast. Well, by this time he's crying and carrying on so "I'm fragile!", "You're being mean to me", "I don't want to talk to you".
Can you guess what happened next?
That's right...I couldn't get him to eat. Try as I might I could not get him to eat ANY of his breakfast. He kept running away from the table and burying himself amongst the pillows on our couch and screaming at me to "get away from him". Consequently little H woke up, though how he had slept through everything up to this point, I had no clue.
Well, I couldn't send him off to school without food, and screaming and crying that I had punched him and was being "very mean"...what does one do in this situation??
I did the only thin I could do...I called the school and told them he was sick.
By this time H has caught on to the tension in the older D and began trying to catch up. Throughout the day everything would be fine, we'd be playing something quietly, all occupied, and then one would upset the other and before I knew it a full on tantrum would erupt from both of them. D would start screaming and actually with tears crying about how he didn't like his brother, or how he was hurt, or that he didn't like us anymore, or that something wasn't fair...
Then H would throw himself flat on the floor in retaliation and screaming "oooh", "Owwww", "Hurt!".
Yeah...fuuuun.
The Mr. finally arrived home from work, and can anyone guess what happened here?
Yup, the boys kicked whatever energy they had before into overdrive, and everything that had been happening thus far, suddenly intensified and got worse. It seemed like it was every few minutes chaos would errupt with one screaming and crying, and the other throwing himself flat out on the floor screaming about how he had been hurt (though he actually wasn't, for the record).
Thankfully, Wednesday night there was a Cub Scout function that the two older Mr's had to attend, and it gave me a bit of reprieve from D to gather my wits about me.
I had phoned my M-I-L earlier in the evening and asked her to come and speak to D again about what was going on, as she's an outside influence who hadn't yet insulted him, so she was safe to talk to.
They boys arrived home from Cub Scouts with my Mr. so aggrievated with D that he was almost dangerous to be around...yup, his behaviour hadn't improved any.
Glory...Once again, everything intensified when my M-I-L arrived, and she was kind enough to take D upstairs and help him get ready for bed, and chat with him about what was bothering him.
By this point in time both the Mr and myself were ready to pull our hairs (does that sound right?) out. So, we took a breather, we were ready to hear what the M-I-L had to report.
Well, relaying back to D being bothered last week, and possibly even the week before where he didn't want to go to school, and having trouble with another boy...she began to relay his school problems that seemed to really be having an effect on his whole being.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised at how badly spending 6 hours a day with the same people day-in, and day-out can be...but I am. It's been that long since I was in school, and I just don't recall how horrible it can be to face the same tormentors everyday.
We're small people...I'm short, so is my husband...we're not going to have tall kids. D is small for his age, almost a whole head shorter than the farm grown kids here in Ohio, but roughly the same size as the ones back home cause they're from the same short stock too.
Last time we had issues it was a few kids stealing his hat and holding it up where he couldn't reach it...this time it's a few kids bugging him about his name, and his height.
I went to the school on Friday for lunch with him, and wow...one of the kids in his class was walking with us to the cafeteria, and actually said to me "You're short, you look like a 6th grader", and then for the duration of the lunch break (15 minutes) proceeded to continue making comments about how short I am. I can definately see why that would bother D, cause I wanted to slap him...his comments were that rude.
Now I'm trying my hardest not to solve his problems for him, but how far should I be taking my actions when it's affecting him this badly?
All I can say, is I hope we don't have many more day like this, as I'm not so certain we can tolerate it.
before you finish reading this post...please take a moment and appreciate the humor of this situation...a two year old frequently dropping to the floor screaming about beig hurt, a 6 year old in tears at the drop of a dime, a mother at a loss as to which one to aid first, and a father wishing he really hadn't walked in on this situation.
Yeah, it's times like these that make me wonder...who's bright idea was it to let me leave a hospital with a baby?!?!