Sunday, May 29, 2011
It was an entire week at Edisto Beach, the first time in nine years since I'd spent a week at the beach. The last time was when I had 17 children under the age of 11 at Pawley's Island, a week in which I thought my eyes'd bug out in the pure stress of counting heads over and over and over again. 24-7 supervision, lifeguard and cook duties, no break at all.
I'd had my brother, Jimbo, with me then, as well as my parents, Chuck, Yolie and Sarah. Beach vacations have traditionally been multi-generational for Bodies. I hope my brothers and their families will join us next year now that my own family had calmed down so much.
Nowadays, with nine high schoolers, it's so much easier. Everyone is a strong swimmer, no children are new to our family, thus immediately then minimizing the rageful explosions, subsequently we had nearly perfect behavior. I only have two elementary kids and three middle schoolers...a piece of cake.
Sarah, Preston, Ray and Hazel also were with me, Yolie's family has a beach week with her husband's side of the family. My plan is always to take along the children still living here with me, and, as often as possible, Yolie and Sarah's families as they help me so incredibly much during the year.
I scouted out our next location for next year, and I'm already excited about it. A designated line item in my budgetary pay-as-you-go policy that eliminates bills arriving later after the fun is over. I do not use credit cards.
I haven't been to my church since Mother's Day, due to being away, this morning I'm happy to get dressed and go.
The police, not in my county where we have deputies, had picked up an injured grown kid of mine one night last week, 10-13ing them for their own safety. An answer to prayer, as suicidal ideations had been expressed, that one was MIA for several days, gut-wrenching fear coursing through my family until personal safety was assured.
I'm not using names so much anymore, maybe not even delineating the gender of the one I'm discussing, as it's the issues that we all have in common on our adoption journey, the children themselves are spectacularly unique however...even here within my own large family.
Again, I hate alcohol abuse. Hate it. What good comes from it? Yeah, nothing.
Dave Ramsey was stressing the need for college kids to work, not to rely on student loans, brought to my own mind my years spent waiting tables, driving a school bus and running a rooming house, all in order to take care of my own even back then very minimal living expenses, plus I had a child then as well. But, not having any free time had its plusses, no time for drinking and partying, no DUI in my history, again illustrating the thought that the Devil makes work for idle hands. As if control freaks like me would hand over inhibitions to liquid? Uh, Nope.
To now have grown kids who are chronically unemployed is such an irony, right? I have no sympathy nor empathy. The Bibles clearly states if you don't work, you don't eat. A duh moment brought to us by God. I was never too proud for a minimum wage job.
After driving the 260 miles back home yesterday, I physically collapsed. Maybe it was the previous cumulative decades of stress doing a number on me, but no part of me wanted to go outside and dig in the dirt in the late afternoon heat. I kinda just plopped my butt down feeling disoriented, kinda restlessly guilty for burning daylight so fruitlessly, but knowing I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself all the dadgum time.
I didn't even read a book, instead I blankly watched TV, so not me. My dogs were hysterically glad to see us all, indeeed Shatter came bounding up to my room this morning to get me up when I slept past the roosters crowing. Allen had voluntarily mowed our entire meadow all evening with a push mower, restless and wanting it trimmed, while Tony straightened up the kitchen for me. Who are these helpful kids and why was Mom being so slack?
Chuy killed a copperhead on our back deck, not even telling me until he'd skinned it. Oh. My. Goodness. Thank God he saw it before a grandchild had done so. It was fairly small, maybe a foot long, making me uneasy about snake siblings. Chuy's Wildlife Management class last semester had totally fascinated him, our shark dinner last week was mainly due to him, and he'd trapped a squirrel last month that had been pigging out on Grandma's garden lettuce.
I'm praying that I can guide him into some sort of linked facsinating field of study. He's a very bright teenager, still struggling a bit with his own deep anger issues, a bantam rooster too often, but deep down, a delightful son of mine, handsome and athletic.