Motherhood isn't for sissies

The first day of school for our district was yesterday.  I intended to have the boys start lessons today as well, but haven't had time to finish getting everything ready.
The big boys will be in 4th grade.  4th grade, to me, is a big jump from 3rd grade.  I feel like this year we really have to take lessons seriously (not that we weren't before, but I feel like more is at stake now), and I want to start off on the right foot.
We had a big "family meeting" on Monday night.  The boys and I drove down to Ben's office and brought dinner which we ate at the table in his office.  I printed out an agenda for everyone with all of our items of business and we eventually moved to a conference room in his building where there was a whiteboard and dry-erase markers.  I was trying to make it formal and serious so the boys would take it seriously.
I think all-in-all it went all right.  We talked about our theme for the year, which is Discipline, Cooperation, and Excellence.  We talked a lot about how we need to work together as a team in everything we do.  In lessons, in taking care of our house and yard, and in taking care of each other.  I don't want to boss them around, and they don't want to be bossed around.  The best way to eventually get to a place where they never have to be bossed around, is to get as smart as they can and work as hard as they can.  But it takes a while to get there.  Ben and I want to be coaches, not bosses.  I really, really want the boys to start seeing me not as a task-master but as a coach.  I hope we can achieve this.
Joseph didn't have a great attitude during the meeting, but I know he was listening.
My main goal for the year is not to yell at the boys.  So I am making a pretty comprehensive list of behaviors and corresponding privileges and consequences.  I don't want to make threats anymore, I just want to count them, give warnings, and then tell them what the consequence will be.  I really hope it works!
I have a lot to learn about being an effective teacher and mother.  I worry so much that I'm not doing it right, that I'm messing everything up.  There is such a fine balance between being challenging and being heavy-handed, and that balance is different for each child.  Sometimes the balance shifts with the child's mood, with the amount of sleep he got, with other unpredictable changes in the wind.  And I have to figure it all out as I go along.  Something that works beautifully one day won't work the next.
Joseph, especially, has a very strong sense of self, and needs to feel autonomous.  He has a big need to "save face," which I totally understand since I was exactly the same way as a child.  It's so hard as a mother, though, to know when a muttered comment under his breath needs to simply be ignored-- his harmless attempt at saving face while he is actually complying, or when that muttered comment is a sign of defiance that, if not curbed now, will eventually grow into disrespect for me and all authority figures.  Aahh, it's so hard!  If I come down on him on every little thing, he and I will both go crazy.  But if I let important things go, he'll never learn respect and how to cooperate. 
It's not just Joseph, all of the boys have this tendency to one degree or another.  It's human nature.  But it is so hard to figure out.
Sometimes I look at other people's children and I wonder if I'm just doing things completely wrong.  Other children seem so cheerful and compliant, and then I feel like a louse when I think about my son who, this afternoon, ran into the garage and slammed the door as hard as he could, yelling "I HATE YOU!!" because I told him to come inside and close the garage door which he had left open.  He had closed it, but not hard enough, and it swung open again.  (And it was about 147 degrees outside today and our garage turns into an oven so the door really does need to stay closed.)  I asked him to go re-close it, and he said, "I already did," and went outside in the backyard, ignoring me.  Should I have let it go and just got one of the other boys to close it, or just wheeled myself over and closed it myself?  I don't know.  But I called him back inside and told him he can't ignore me when I have asked him to do something, and he needed to come back in and close it again.  He freaked out saying he already closed it and Mosey must have opened it again, and blah blah blah, and then finally he ran into the garage, slammed the door behind him as hard as he possibly could (it did close solidly that time), and yelled those three cutting words.  It is the first time he has done that, the first time any of the boys have yelled that at me in anger, and boy did it hurt.  And then left me with another dilemma.  Do I punish him for that?  That is clearly a very disrespectful thing to say, but if I called him on it right then, I'm afraid the situation would have escalated even further.  I decided to ignore it, and then later on we'll have to talk about consequences if it happens again...  He came back inside after a while and seemed fine.  Was he fine?  I don't know.
There is so much I don't know, and have no way of knowing about this whole motherhood thing.  I know kids come with their own personalities and they are not lumps of clay to be molded exactly as I see fit.  But still, parents have a good deal of influence and responsibility over the behavior and training of their children, and I feel that responsibility keenly.  When my kids struggle, I wonder if it is because of a failing on my part, or are these struggles simply a result of the personalities they are born with?
There are no answers.
I also need to realize that as a mom, I rarely acknowledge the things I am doing right.  I only focus on the things I am doing wrong.  When my kids act right (which is most of the time), I don't give myself credit.  But when they misbehave, I blame myself.  So maybe I shouldn't get too down on myself.  But the problem isn't really even that I'm down on myself.  It just hurts a lot to see my child struggling and feel at a loss as to how to help them.  And worse, to wonder if I'm responsible.

Anyway, that's enough belly-aching for one night.  That "I hate you" really, really hurt, though.  I love this kid so much, I can't describe it.  I would do anything for him.  I would give my life for him.  I like him, I think he is wonderful, I love him more that I could ever have imagined loving a child.  How can he hate me?  I know he doesn't really hate me, but it is pretty crappy that he thinks he does, even if only for a few minutes.
Being a mom is really hard.