Right is Relative :)

Heads up: Evidently, not writing for days means I should write for hours.

Good morning!

What a wonderfully inspiring post...thank you so much. Kudos to you for turning your day around! I'm impressed with your positive attitude and wilingness to keep it, in the face of all those idiot teenagers. And thank you, too, for not making excuses for them in order to adjust your perspective. How healthy to simply live the serenity prayer. Change the things I can. You started my day with a big smile!

Yesterday was a good day. I worked the book fair in the morning, which was pretty boring, really. We were in there for four hours, but the kids only came in for short bursts, maybe an hour total in all that time. There was a whole lot of sitting around, and the gals I was with weren't exactly my roudy PTA moms from Friday Treats. (And the librarian, good Lord, what a stereotype -- she actually has the kids call her Madam Librarian.) At any rate, I had a chance to peruse all the new books (and not buy them at full price, but to make a long wish list for my next Amazon coupon). When I was finished there, it was the beginning of JJ's recess...I took him out of school and we went to get his allergy shots. I bribed him with McDonald's, but when we got over there, we were also near The Rock, my favorite pizza place. After a short conversation about it, he chose to go there instead. It was the absolute highlight of my week, maybe my month...a little playing hooky with my kid, sitting in a cool restaurant for no reason at all, just chatting and enjoying the heck out of his company.

I dropped him back off at school and ran a few errands, not attempting too much (lazy ass), but got the big stuff done. When I got home, I was feeling awake and alive and happy and right, as you say. I called JB and chatted with her awhile, which is always good and grounding for me. She's so pragmatic about things. She's a problem solver, an analyst; but somehow she manages to address things with sympathy and softness. She always leaves me feeling a little less sorry for myself, which is always in order.

By the time JJ got home, I was winding down a bit, putting off dealing with the M thing. (I should come up with some kind of code name for this whole debacle, like TIM - The Insanity of M - I crack myself up!) Monday, as I was talking with you on the phone, I found my way to the DSHS office and, from there, to Juvenile Court. Before filling out the hour of necessary paperwork via computer, I reviewed the Family Assessment that LA (our case worker) had written up after the meeting on Friday. Interestingly, instead of a standard psych eval, she recommended a domestic violence eval. She told me that this would be far more comprehensive and far more difficult for him to BS his way out of. Also, she mentioned that since we only suspect drug use, I should ask for an on-the-spot UA right there in court to rule it out. (I guess this is a routine request.) Ha! The little things make me giddy! I am also able to get a no-contact order against the crazy mom if I want to.

I submitted my petition and stood in line behind a string of juvenile delinquents and their tired, frustrated parents, parents to whom I would have referred, a year ago, as trailer trash. Today, I am in that line, my paperwork and my receipts and my case number and my court date in hand. Perhaps my outfit is a little nicer, perhaps my posture is a bit stiffer than theirs, but I am, after all, at the beginning of this journey. I look into their eyes and see the same emotions I feel every day; our situations may be demographically worlds apart, but our hearts are drowning in the same sea. I am no one to judge anymore.

So yesterday, upon arriving home, I had to call LA and figure out what it is I'm supposed to bring to/say in court next Thursday. That's our hearing date - April 2. 8:30am. This is the sort of thing that's normal on my calendar these days. JJ and I hung out a bit and ate dinner, then the phone rang and it was her number. Three times now, in the past month, it has shown up on my caller id and I have chosen not to answer, for fear that it is her and I am not prepared to talk. But this time I picked it up, figuring that at some point, I had to get this over with. Instead, it was M, and boy, was he mad!

An hour later, after listening to his absurdities, accusations and circular reasoning, wherein, among other things, he told me that I had lost my chance to be his mother, that he was never going to speak to me again, and that I was immature and irresponsible because I was going to put him in jail with a bunch of butt-rapists (quote, unquote), the conversation ended with him yelling and me not (yay!) and no resolution as far as he was concerned. He wants me to leave him alone and let him live there and basically remove myself from his life. Yeah, not gonna happen, dude.

Classic M line from the conversation: "Mom, I was not arrested. They had handcuffs there, but they never put them on me." Oh yes, he did.

I managed to compose myself and sit down to a movie with JJ and J, which was really, really good. Not one I would have chosen, or was looking forward to seeing - a sports documentary about highschool girl's basketball that JJ picked - yeah, exactly. But it was awesome and a good distraction. My day ended nicely, then, right up until this horrific noise came screaming out of my laundry room as we were heading up to bed....that would be some part of the washing machine that broke. Because, God knows, we just got a huge tax return back and have nothing better to spend it on than a new f***ing washing machine.

Aaaaaahhhhh...it's Wednesday and I have nothing planned today at all, except more documenting and filing and random crap around the house. If I listen to my good friend, Barb, I will straighten up my shoulders, take a deep breath, and turn my day/week/month around. I will find the courage to change the things I can.

Love you! - A

P.S. your dinner sounded (and looked) like something out of a great restaurant. You are definitely cooking the entire time you're here in August. There would be no point in my offering up anything.

And about that handsful thing...is it blow dried or blew dry? :)