Somedays the events all conspire to suck up all my time, time I'd dedicated to my family anyway, this morning was particularly tough.
I'd wanted to go to Sarah's house, after all the kids went to school, to drink coffee with her father, her sister and her family, but Jonathan refused to go to school at all, eventually I was able to coax him into going by 9:30, passing my former husband on the road with a good-bye wave as he headed to the airport, texting me, "Well maybe next time."
I had spent time with them all yesterday, while my kids were in Sunday School, wanting to absorb a little bit of a normal life. Sarah doesn't often have both parents at breakfast together, my fault I know, but thank goodness we've remained friends and can be happy grandparents together. That's important to all of us.
I'm fighting bitterness, and a tad dousing of resentment thrown in, as a phone call this morning informed me of deviousness against me. I'm real tired of helping folks who wanna pay me back with a negative vengeance. I can't make your life right, that's your job, make good choices. I ran into Dr. Mandy's office for a signature, seeing a police officer sitting there thrills me, as I remain deeply afraid of folks whose heads aren't screwed on tightly. I wished a law officer lived down our dirt road, I wished I had a security guard. I am installing several cameras both to protect us and as a witness to the rages that boil up around here. Sad, isn't it?
But I WANT a witness. One day I'd taped a rage to show Dr. Mandy who was quite surprised as the rager presents very differently.
I have to have rules regarding our safety and my desire to keep all potential criminals away from my children. That translates to some as prejudice, since my dislike for all things thuggish is obvious. I've been called a racist which blows me away. Kinda hard to defend myself against that...ya know this ole white lady who chose to help Hispanic kids. A big ole HUH?
Rebelling against my rules is attractive to a good number of folks, those who think lying and stealing is OK as long as you don't get caught..."Mom's so stupid with her don't steal, don't lie rules".
Square maybe, not stupid.
I'm really preferring to be left alone. I dislike drama and chaos and find it very sad that some folks want to stir it up because that's all they find comfortable. I prefer to be boring then.
I crave peace, quiet, and the goodness in life that eludes me.
Don't come home from school with cash and try to tell me someone gave it to you. In this economy?
I drove CW to school, fretting about his broken collar bone on the bouncing bus, talking to the school nurse, sounding like an over-protective mom, likely embarrassing CW, but I do worry about him being bumped, jarred or re-injured. Daniel had come by to see him yesterday, greatly lifting his spirits.
CW is insisting on attending football practice, even though it means just sitting on the bench, remaining a part of the team is very important to him. I have a one o'clock school meeting and I'm gonna double check on C-Double-Yew once more. He'd been greeted with a ton of, "What UP Dubs!" when he got there this morning, several kids informing him, "We already heard what happened to you," thanks to Facebook and a small town.
My meeting is in regards to JoJo leaving Alternative School, having served his time, but I have serious reservations about returning him to regular school. I believe the very tightly structured AS was designed perfectly for children like him, he has thrived there and absolutely loves the adults involved. I do too, I think they've been awesome to JoJo.
I deal with my own massive stress by working. I just returned from buying me a shop vac, a new one, not a yard sale one, shelling out $70, and am excited about vacuuming up negativity. Is that even possible? I just keep trying to draw in deep breaths, to think positive thoughts, and to pray my way through it all, pulling figurative knives out of my back at regular intervals.
Jonathan let the chickens out to make me mad this morning, they're in the woods and I need help in getting them back. I just quietly drove him to school, knowing that showing a reaction just feeds into his issues. A severely troubled child once left my house for a therapeutic placement, several years ago, smearing every item of clothes she'd left behind with feces, a visual good-bye designed to let me know how she truly felt.
Wow, I remain staggered by what all I experience.