His incessant, threenager need to argue played right into my master plan *mwuahahahahaha*
Enjoy. *bows deeply*
I missed a call from the police department today. With a son with special needs living on his own, a newly licensed teenage son and a teenage daughter with mental health concerns, getting a voicemail with an officer/contact information but nothing else, that’s not cool!
I did what any mother would do and switched back and forth between attempting to reach the officer and my kids. Murphy’s Law: Once I got the kids checked off, I got through to the officer. He’s following up on a telecommunications harassment complaint.
To make a very long story short: I had to reprimand my daughter about something she posted on social media about the boy who randomly slid his hand up her shirt. Yes, HE harasses her, HE is dating her best friend since 1st grade and friend takes his side, HE bullies my daughter at school to intimidate her from talking, her mental health took a huge hit, I had to pull her out of the school, but she was reprimanded and had charges dangling over her head because of talking about it, yet this little fucker receives no consequences. His mother said, “My son wouldn’t do that”.
PARENTS: LISTEN! We’re all human and flawed. Yes, even your child. Believing that your child just simply isn’t capable of doing something is a poison like no other. If we do not have uncomfortable discussions with our children, we will only create monsters of privilege with no accountability. (See:Trump)
This whole situation is bringing up unpleasant memories. PTSD in full effect. I just don’t understand how this is still happening 20 years later?! That’s fucked up.
The conversation I had with her was to the point and unremarkable. The disgust and despair I feel for having to have had it at all … I don’t even have words to describe.
Jedi: Do or not do, there is no try
* bows *
Turns out I really did raise a Jedi and I couldn’t be more proud
Today was the day Bean and I took a giant leap into a future together, with kids in tow. He brought his boys, 8 and 6 years old, over to my house for the first time to have a early 4th of July shindig, with my Pickle(21), Jedi (16) and Diva(14). It reminded me of high school chemistry. We put all kinds of different stuff together and waited for the reaction.
My Dad went out of his way to make Bean’s boys feel like a regular members of our clan and I love him so much for it. He got all 5 of them super soaker water guns and thus, allegiances were made to water war. My kids acted like kids. None of them batted an eye or balked at the idea of child’s play. The big kids helped the little kids with strategy and ammunitions, while Bean and I prepared food. Then we all ate together, kept casual conversation going that entertained all parties, followed by a bonfire, smores and fireworks.
It was a much needed good day for all parties involved and I am grateful for it.
Jedi: I want a vape pen so my room smells nice like yours.
Diva: Her room smells ah-mazing. It smells good because she cares about it and keeps it clean. Im obsessed with your bed, Momma. Do you know I laid down and fell asleep in Mom’s bed for like an hour and when I woke up my skin was softer.
Me: How is that even possible?
Diva: I DONT KNOW! But it’s totally true. Your bed is magic.
Ive been sick the last couple days.
Lots of sick after having the audacity to eat steak at a wedding Saturday and again Sunday while having Fathers Day dinner with my Dad. Bad move…
The being sick seems to have passed while the feeling sick hasnt OR I did not absorb enough anti-depressant during being sick. Sigh.
It’s usually hard to tell until you’re drowning … tumbling down the rabbit hole.
Kids have been quiet, doing the lazy, teenager summer schtick.
Dog is still low-key dying *sniff*
BOY friend is out of town. Family vacation. Which feels a little weird to type…
It’s strange to know so many intimate details of someone’s life and yet … not know them intimately, in that way.
See, it’s weird.
Wait … is this the rabbit hole?
It’s been threatening to rain/storm all day, literally and figuratively speaking.
Figurativively, Im trying to cope, calm the storm inside my wild breaths and not lash out like I normally do when someone backs me into a corner: CLAWS OUT. The bottle of wine, Im working on finishing on my own would tell me Im going to need a better coping mechanism. Fuck. Whatever. Look, when someone tells you they would like to have a therapy session with you so that they can “relay things” to you with an assured “support person” to be on hand for you after said things are relayed, I think most would agree is ominous. Not something I would normally sign up for, but I am doing it for my mother. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. There has just been far too much anti-climatic drama in our family since my sister got pregnant. I have been cut out and my Mom, whom would deny this if ever asked, was placed in the middle.
I got a call last March. I missed that call while I was driving and attempting to follow voice navigated directions, it went to my voicemail. Over a year has passed and I still wonder: What if I had only received that call? What if I had not needed direction that night. I pulled into a CVS and listened to the voicemail. It was my sister telling me that she was pregnant. Happy tears rolled down my cheeks as I couldn’t even gather myself to listen to the other details, so I hung up and called her right back. Straight to voicemail. I let my elation and joy unfold in a voice message. I hang up and call directly back to my own voicemail to completely listen to the whole message. Sister says she is due in September. She said that since she was past the first trimester, as well as her and my brother in law, (DC), wedding anniversary was coming up on St. Patrick’s Day, she and DC were planning a Facebook post to tell everyone, but she had still wanted to tell me formally. It tasted like the real thing, but looking back on that last word: formally I have to wonder if this was EXACTLY all she meant to do was to formally tell me she was pregnant.
Fine, we can have a formal only sister interaction, hell, even if begrudging this seems likes a civility that our parents, who have invested so much here could have holidays with their children and grandchildren without the drama, but no, that couldn’t be what she meant because I wasn’t ever formally or even informally invited to either of her baby showerS, friends and also family, out-of-town with my Mom’s entire side of the family and where was Stephanie?
Did anyone ask? I digress…
Whatever is to be said, and I steongly feel, I already know but am trying to delude myself into believing there must be something more. What I do know is that there is just absolutely no excuse that will dismiss the great injustice I feel.
To be continued …
My two teenagers have taken to singing “I’ll Be There For You” by The Rembrandts (or the Friends theme song) everytime something goes wrong and Im at wit’s end.
Grocery bag splits open, spilling groceries across just cleaned floor:
Kids: 🎼”so no one told you life was gonna be this way”🎵 *clap clap clap 👏 *