Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Bagging Groceries In Front of Hot Girls
Sweet Jack has overcome his swimmer's ear issue this week, ready for the pool once again. Good because I prefer ceiling fans to air conditioners, factor in the pool and we can cool off.
Fabian has totally morphed into his birth brother, Edgar. From a once severely angry, violent and confused adolescent into a fairly mature, handsome, charming, eager to please young man who goes everywhere I go. He's accompanied me twice this week to camp, on every errand I've had to run for months, and today he's asked me if he can go to court with me regarding Pepe's long term whatever today.
It's a cross between looking after me and feeling in control, knowing what's happening constantly within our family, and his own macho pride in knowing he's playing a huge part in everything. It's still amazes me to see such appropriate behavior coming from a kid who'd spent so much time in lock-up facilities. I'd once despaired of ever seeing anything resembling normal behavior in him, so furious he was back then.
I'm not parenting him any differently now than I was when we needed the deputies out here to control his destructive, dangerous rages. These are his excellent choices now just as it was then his terrible choices. He's learned somehow that two plus two equals four. If this, then that. Good choices equal good consequences.
"My feet are killing me!" he exclaimed when I picked him up at 11 last night after a seven hour shift bagging groceries.
Tell me about it I thought, remembering the years and years I'd come home from work to a full house of children that immediately wanted supper plus there were still all the chores to do. I forget how blessed I am now to be retired from the school system, to be able to be a stay-at-home mom to such emotionally demanding children.
Fabian talked the entire way home, regaling Javy and I with stories of every minute on the job. "It was way more fun than I thought it'd be. I was afraid I'd bag the groceries wrong in front of hot girls from school who'd laugh at me," he seriously explained with a straight face.
"Yeah right son. Hot girls go to the grocery store just to do that. To find a hapless, first day employee to harass. You're it today."
Telling us that he had to push the grocery buggy to the car for ladies with kids and elderly folks, I asked him to define the word elderly.
"Your age and up," he immediately responded, cackling and happy that he'd got me back in retaliation for the hot girl crack I'd made at his expense.
Fabian ate a box of cereal at midnight and is headed out the door right now to his second-to-the-last day of summer school. Grinning happily, supremely proud of himself, looking good and understanding so much more now about my commitment to him, eight long rough years into the placement.
With eight children at camp this week, one would think life here at home would be calmer, but even Scotty has been acting up, missing Sabrina, his emotional glue, and sending his skyrocketing anxieties down the bloodline into Nando. Tabby has been a basket case, manifesting her fears and insecurities into defiance, resulting in time-outs and being sent to her room several times.
Conversely Jonathan and Paloma have been right good. Go figure.