Updates and miscellaneous stuff

I like the word "miscellaneous."

Sproing and Diva both stayed home from school today because of illness. I took them both to the doctor. He had a stomach virus, but is pretty much over it now. She had the genuine 'flu, but also is on the tail end of it. Neither has had a fever all day, and her throat isn't as sore as it was. You know what that means? They are going to school tomorrow!

We saw the psychologist at the hospital today to discuss Sproing's testing. His testing dates are September 16th and 17th. I'm pleased that he's getting in so soon. It took much longer when Diva had hers done. Superman and I told the doctor what all has been happening over the past month or two. I mentioned that the school social worker recommended that we file incorrigible child charges on both of them. The doctor encouraged us to follow through with that. I called the police dispatcher tonight to find out how. We need to talk to an officer and can either do it at the police station or they'll send someone here to us. I don't want the kids around when I do it, so I'll probably go to the station. I've been putting it off for a week. As much as it needs to be done, part of me doesn't want to do it.

And speaking of going to school tomorrow, I am. Tuesday is the first day of Fall semester for me. I bought all my books today, and have checked the class websites for information. Only two of my instructors have posted anything, so I got that info. I'll tell you more about school as it gets underway. I'm tired now and want to go to bed soon, so I won't get into all that now.

Light starts classes in the morning, too. I took her to school Sunday. Superman was supposed to do it, but he fell and wrenched his back on Saturday. He was mostly bedridden Saturday and Sunday. He had some really good drugs, too! Pain reliever/muscle relaxer really mellows him out! Anyway, I had to help move Light in. Thankfully, her roommate Monkey and Monkey's mom and dad were there to help. I actually didn't carry much at all. It didn't take long with all of that help. It was good.

The demonic duo got into trouble again this evening. They made a big gash in the door from the garage to the kitchen. I think he was teasing her and tried to lock her out of the house. She picked up a shovel and rammed it into the door. I should take a picture, show you the damage. Maybe I will. I'm bad about pictures, so I won't promise anything.

Also this evening they jammed the lock on my office door. He was trying to break into my office. Superman put a metal guard on the door around the latch to prevent them from jimmying the latch open any more. They have done that to the office and our bedroom doors to the point that they've dug out part of the door jamb with a screwdriver. Well, that won't work anymore because of this guard. So tonight Sproing took a screwdriver and jammed it into the lock. Of course it broke the whole thing. Superman had to use his reciprocating saw to saw the door knob off.

This encourages me to file incorrigible child reports on the two fools. Remind me that I said that.

Textbooks are expensive. Everyone knows that. I've known it for years, yet it still shocks me when the total comes up on the register. Eight text books, only one hardcover, three of them used = $639.00. I paid for them with student loan money. Remind me to look into scholarships, will ya'? I need to do that.

I'm tired, and I have classes until 4:30 in the afternoon. I know I'll have reading assignments and possibly homework from henceforth and forevermore (or until mid December) and I don't know how often I'll post. Hopefully I'll find a grove and will make a place for this very important activity on a regular basis.

OH! And I've just heard that our beloved vice-governor (oh, it's lieutenant governor) has been outed! Evidently the source is reliable.

hugs and kisses!!

Stuff, a lot of it good

I got through about half of A Room of One's Own last night. It's a short book, and though not riveting, it's good. This evening Light gave me the last of the tawdry gay novels that she ordered. That's on tonight's reading agenda.

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Yesterday was a good day with Sproing. Well, it turned into a good day anyway. I was in the school social worker's office in the morning, discussing group home placement options with her when the principal brought Sproing in. He had been uncooperative with one of his teachers, the principal had been walking down the hall and the teacher passed Sproing off. So the social worker and Sproing and I had a discussion of sorts. He didn't verbalize much, but his nonverbal communication was effective.

Later in the afternoon I took him to his counselor. We've changed counselors recently (the former one is mostly useless) so everyone is still getting acquainted. It was a very good session. He opened up and actually worked on some stuff. He and I both said some stuff that needed to be said. He was uncomfortable, but he did well and it didn't kill him.

After the counseling session I took him out to eat. He had said earlier in the afternoon that if I took him out to dinner (at Zaxby's, 'cause that's where he wanted to go) he would tell me about his problems at school. And that's exactly what happened! He opened up, answered my questions, told me to the best of his ability what the f**k is going on. We both listened to each other. It was the best bonding experience we have had in a long time. It's the first time in a very long time that I have actually enjoyed his company. This afternoon he started with a huge fit as soon as he came home from school, but he got his shit together and we had more good discussion (not as deep and emotional as yesterday's, but good!). I know he likes this much better than fussing, but I'm not sure he's able to maintain it. He lacks the skills. Having this good start, though, we might be able to build on it. I hope.

Y'all, I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. I usually do, truth be told. I really don't know what I'm doing, but I'm sensitive and receptive, and I have learned a thing or two about communicating with children over the years. Dealing with Twitch when he was this age gave me a lot of experience, though Sproing is SO many levels beyond anything Twitch ever threw at us.

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Light returns to college for her junior year on Sunday. I'm going to miss her. She makes a big difference around here, and she's so much fun to be with. She helps me a lot in dealing with the kidlets; runs interference for me when I've flipped out. She's so incredibly special. I am blessed to have her as a daughter. And I say that not just because she reads my blog!

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I have been craving rice recently. Jasmine rice to be precise. I've never really liked rice that much, but I'd never had Jasmine rice until about three years ago. I really like Jasmine rice! My stomach has been a bit upset this afternoon, so for my supper tonight I made rice and put Mrs. Dash, some salt, granulated garlic, and french fried onions in it. Good stuff!

There might be a reason my stomach was upset. I didn't get breakfast this morning. I got out of bed too late to eat anything, so I only had some coffee. I was busy all morning, away from home. Saw my counselor this morning. More good stuff. She clued me in to a sale at Food Lion (grocery): Ben and Jerry's pints, 2 for $5. I have resisted the goodness of my BFFs Ben and Jerry of late, and I think they've missed me. I sure have missed them. So on the way home from my morning out I stopped at Food Lion and got three pints of B&J. Once home, I worked my magic. Have I ever given you my "recipe" for B&J ecstacy? I take a pint each of Chunky Monkey and whatever that chocolate fudge brownie flavor is. That wasn't in stock at Food Lion today, so I got New York Super Fudge Chunk. I remove the ice cream from the cartons, take a large sharp kitchen knife and slice the ice cream chunks in half from top to bottom, then mix the halves and return them to the cartons. One goes in the freezer, the other goes with me to my hideout. The only thing I had to eat all day was half a pot of coffee and a pint of Chunky Monkey/NY SuperFudge. And my stomach was upset. Then I had the Jasmine rice for supper around 7:00, and I feel better now.

I didn't get any proper lunch today because Superman came home midday for "lunch." I'm so glad we live close enough to where he works so he can come home for "lunch." Good stuff. Very very good stuff.

I've always liked Thursdays

And today has been a pretty good Thursday, considering the circumstances.

Fall semester begins next Tuesday, Sept. 1st. I've been free from classes for three weeks. I stay very busy reading school related material during the semester, and rarely have a chance to read the stuff I want to read. During this break I had a list of books, books that are actually in my possession, mind you, that I wanted to read. The list includes but is not limited to:

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

The Mermaid Chair also by Sue Monk Kidd

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Freidan (no, I've never read it)

Second Sex by Simone De Beauvior

She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

I Know This Much Is True also by Wally Lamb

A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf

I also wanted to finish The New Gay Teenager by Ritch Savin-Williams and Sex as God Intended by John J. McNeill, both of which I started reading quite a while ago.

Ya' wanna know what I've read instead? Tawdry gay romance novels. It's hard to consider myself a serious scholar with that reading list.

buh buh buh buh

It's getting harder for me to hold it together.

I went to see their school social worker yesterday. She gave me information, encouragement, and forms to fill out to get Sproing into a residential program. Yeah, I said all that yesterday. I made an appointment for tomorrow for him to have a physical, since he needs that to get into the program. I have a stack of forms to fill out, sitting there on my desk.

I've been avoiding it all day. I watched three movies today, though, and stared out the window for a while. This is what I want. This is best for him. Why is it so hard for me to do?

I received a voice mail from the school social worker this afternoon. I missed her call, since my phone was in the bedroom and I was in the office. Sproing was in her office when she called. He had refused to go to his final class of the day and was wandering the halls instead. He has walked out of class before, too. Just walked out. No hall pass, no "may I please be excused" or nuthin'. Just left.

My nerves are shot. I can't concentrate. Tears fall freely from my eyes at the oddest times. No sobs, no overt angst, just wet cheeks.

OK, I need to go do this now. I must fill out the forms to send my son away.

I think I hope this might be it

I got a call this morning from the social worker at the kids' school. She was calling about Sproing's behavior. Of course. I've been expecting her call. We chatted over the phone for a few minutes and I told her some of the stuff that's been going on. She asked if we had considered placing him in a residential facility, and mentioned a specific one that's in the next county. She has an application form. I told her I'd be there in 15 minutes!!

I went to her office, we chatted for a while. I was (am) so keyed up I can't sit still. And now I can't form coherent sentences, though I did better when I was in her office. She talked to me about options within the legal system. There are actually some good programs available, and having a judge's ruling on some of this stuff would be good. She told me to go to the police station and file an incorrigible child report on both of the kids. Then when they steal something from us, or run away, or any number of things they do already anyway, we can call the police. The third time they're called out here, they take the child away and put him/her in a juvenile evaluation center. Then the state runs a battery of tests on the kids, with results going to the judge, who reviews the results and makes a decision for placement. Because my kids are still young, there's a good chance they'll be placed in a therapeutic environment. The turn-around process on this is shorter than what we've seen for some other programs. I think this is the way we'll go with Sproing. Diva is already in process (a slow one) for another option.

I was so uptight and flittery I had to take my Lorazepam. Now I'm real chill. Gonna go take a nap, I think. Superman recommended it. I had to get Superman from work, because by the time I got out of the school social worker's office, I could barely stand up. Driving was tricky. Thankfully he works down the street from the school. Seriously. You can see the school from the building he works in.

I don't know what else to say, exactly. I don't know what I've said already. I don't know if any of this makes sense. But right now I feel a sense of relief that has me in tears.

Updates as the situation warrants.

Weekend update, questions answered, and other miscellany

Twitch was home this weekend. It's the first time he's been home since he left for school. His term is half over now. The school is on the quarter system, not semesters like my school or Light's school. He is in the middle of his summer quarter now. He likes it and seems to be doing well. He's bored and lonely, though. I think he enjoyed coming home, but I know he also enjoyed going back to his apartment. This weekend reminded him why he was so anxious to get out of here. Yep, the kidlets were in fine form.

I cracked a tooth last week. It happened Thursday, but I didn't really figure out what happened until late Friday. The front (anterior) surface fell away. It's the part between that tooth and the one in front of it. I think it broke along a filling gap or something. I'm not sure. It doesn't hurt, thankfully! My tongue won't leave it alone, though, and the broken edge is sharp. The piece that chipped off was stuck in the gap, but I fished most of it out Friday afternoon. There's still a small sliver of tooth stuck in there. I have an appointment to see my dentist at 10:00. She'll figure it all out. I hope she can do what needs to be done today. I don't want to go back in there for this stupid thing again. I have an appointment for a cleaning next month anyway.

Karen asked recently, in the comments to a post I'm too lazy to look up, just exactly how we came to have Sproing and Diva living with us. I'll try to answer that question briefly, but as I've mentioned many times, brevity is not my strength. Superman and I have been interested in adoption since before Light and Twitch were born. When they were about 5 and 3 years old, we decided to go ahead and look into adoption. We wanted more kids (silly us), but pregnancy and I don't get along well. Knowing there are many children who need homes, we contacted the state department of social services (DSS) to begin the process. We got all our paperwork and home studies finished and were cleared to adopt. But the case workers at DSS were bumfoozlers and didn't want to work with us. I don't know exactly why, but I have my suspicions. We wanted to adopt transracially. Having been foster parents years before, we are aware how difficult it can be to place racial minority children. We wanted to provide a permanent home for a couple of those children.

But DSS wouldn't cooperate, so we went looking elsewhere. We joined an adoption support group, made some friends, networked a bit. There were a lot of people who knew we were looking for a child to adopt. We finally got a call from an attorney in Greenville who got wind of a baby who needed placement, having just been born down in Charleston, SC. Paperwork happened, and two days later we drove to Charleston to pick up our tiny new born baby boy. Sproing was only 4 days old when we got him from the hospital and brought him home. His adoption hearing was 6 months later, when he officially and legally became our son.

Having gotten some good advice from a director of an adoption agency some time ago, we knew we wanted to adopt at least one more minority child. It's (allegedly) emotionally healthier for a minority child in a different-race family to have someone else in the family who is also a minority. It makes sense. If Sproing were the only African American child in this Caucasian family, he'd be the only "different" one. With Diva here, they share the genetic heritage. That's the theory, anyway. So we put the word out that we wanted to adopt another child. A week after Sproing's first birthday, our attorney (the same guy) called with news of a one-year-old baby girl who needed a home. Things prevailed, and on February 4th, 1999, we brought Diva home to live with us. Her adoption was finalized on January (something-teenth), 2000.

And we all lived happily ever after. In theory. In practice, it's been much tougher. Having 4 children isn't the difficult part. Having two of those children suffer from emotional disturbances is the tough part. Of course no one could know when they were babies that they'd have so many problems. Superman and I were naive enough to think that if we provided a good home, loving and nurturing, etc., that they'd be just fine. I've learned a lot since then. Sometimes love isn't enough. Sometimes nature is WAY more powerful than nurture. And that's where we are today.

Does that answer the questions? If you have any more questions, just shoot them my way. I'll try to answer whatever I can as honestly as I can.

It's time for me to go see the dentist. Wish me luck.

UPDATE 1:15 pm:I'm back from the dentist, sporting a fancy new (temporary) crown. I feel so queen-ish.

In a nutshell

From Blunt Card, which I discovered thanks to Stephen.

either / or

So it's been a rough day. Lots of unnecessary drama, nothing new. Same old sh!t we've had for a while.

Here's the question: I want to relax, kick back and have a treat. Should I

a) have a drink or two?

b) eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie?

I can't think!

There are so many things my mind needs to contemplate. It's the time of my life, my age, my stage of development, whatever, when I need to figure out a few things.

What does it mean for me to be a woman? How does that work in my life? What am I supposed to do with my misogynous impulses?

Who or what is the Divine Spirit, the Deity, and should those words be capitalized in this context? What is true about the Supreme Being (or Beings)? How does that differ from what I've believed all of my adult life? I have a need for spiritual nurture, but I don't know how to do that anymore. I miss it, but when I have participated in spiritual worship recently, it seems to not fit right.

What am I supposed to do with my intellectual curiosity? I'm back in college now, and I love it. But right now it doesn't seem to have a point or purpose. Where am I headed? There are so many areas I want to explore. I look at websites of graduate programs and see such a wide range of studies that interest me. I am 47.5 years old. If I want to put this education to profitable use, I'm going to have to narrow my scope.

I don't have time or energy to work on these questions. The daily domestic turmoil precludes deep thought. Hell, the daily domestic turmoil upsets my mental / emotional balance so much that I can't decide whether to have raisin bran or frosted mini-wheat for breakfast.

The pressure is building. My soul cries out to be allowed to grow. Significant elements of my life are squeezing me, restricting my capacity for contemplation and growth. It's crippling.

I am slowly suffocating.

Why I like the first day of school

• Those darling children are in school! Away from home from 7:20 a.m to 4:00 p.m. (there 'bouts). (not sure exactly when the bus will bring them home. School dismisses at 3:20, I think)
• The house is quiet the whole time they are gone.
• Everything is full of potential. They bring home a bazillion papers for me to fill out and sign; all the teachers send documents declaring their ideals and expectations for academic and behavioral achievement. Everything is possible. Notebooks will be neat, homework will be done, all the topics will be covered, everyone will sit in their places with bright shining faces. It's all possible. (in a month or less none of this will prove true)
• It's a day of celebration for harried parents everywhere. I imagine the day care centers are rejoicing, too. I celebrated by getting a package of gooey sweet blueberry-filled pastry.
• I can do stuff without being interrupted (as much).
• I can nap peacefully, knowing someone else is monitoring the children.
• I can watch movies during the day that I wouldn't allow my children to see.
• Superman comes home for "lunch" and we can make all the noise we want, with no kidlets to interrupt.

It' a hardware problem

My keyboard needs to change its diet. The current diet of cat hair and cookie crumbs is causing some of the keys to act wonky.

Quote of the day

"Smooth seas do not make a skillful sailor."
-- African proverb

This quote seems particularly appropriate to my current situation.

More about the same old sh!t

Oh my! It's after 9:00 already! I didn't know it was that late.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I'm going through the blog archives searching for stories of Diva's misdoings. I'm actually reading the whole blog backwards. It's an interesting exercise. I haven't found much about Diva yet, but I know it's coming soon. I have found a few damning tales of Sproing, too. I'm going to write a dossier on him, too, so I'm tagging those posts. The whole exercise is dredging up dirt. I don't like it.

However, it is interesting to read about my life. I have read through August of last year. That looked like a good stopping place. I'll tell ya', I'm depressed a lot. So many of my past blog posts relate feelings of depression or stress or being overwhelmed, much like I am right now. Have I always been like this? You didn't know me ten years ago. I think I was more pleasant then. I was a lot more foolish and naive, I'll tell ya' that. Back then I thought that the love of a good family was enough to make an adopted child a healthy and productive member of society. I'm not so naive now. Sometimes love isn't enough. I've learned that nature is more powerful than nurture in some circumstances.

I took Diva to her therapist this afternoon. I hogged the first 45 minutes of the hour. Last week I didn't have a chance to tell her (the therapist) anything about Diva or what's been happening here. Today I grabbed the opportunity and shook it like a mangy dog. I told her about the kids being on unclothed house arrest, about the recent theft and vandalism, and about how they snuck out just this past Saturday and did all the wrong things again. I was jittery and teary and a mess.

This wonderful lady knows all about it. She's got some good experience in this field. Even better, she gave me some hope!!! There is something in this state called "continuum of care." It's a state sponsored mental health program, and she thinks Diva (and Sproing, for that matter) probably qualify. She assured me (as Lady Grace did in her recent comments) that Diva's behavior is extreme, it is as bad as it seems, I am not a failure as a mother, I'm not imagining things. I have a phone number. I will call first thing in the morning and ask for two application packets. There is a process, we'll have to have meetings or something, have home visits, explain ourselves. I don't know exactly, and it will take a little while. I hope it doesn't take too long. She says there is an excellent chance that residential therapeutic placement is probably in Diva's future, and she indicated it probably would be relatively soon. I don't know what "soon" is, exactly, but I'm pretty sure it isn't soon enough for me. OH! And part of the process involves them getting the kids on Medicare. Because Superman earns money, we don't qualify for Medicare. The therapist said most private insurance providers only allow 30 days for in-patient residential care. That isn't anywhere near long enough for this child. Either of these children, actually. So evidently by going through this program they can be eligible for Medicare. Which is good, because we don't have money to provide the care they need otherwise.

I don't know details. Oh, lookie! A website! (Google is my friend) This is cool. I can download the application form.

Alright folks, I'm off to explore that website. You will certainly be kept informed of developments.

(I feel better than I have in weeks! I feel hopeful!)

The chair in question

This is the chair that I repaired for Lady Grace. It was really a simple fix, and I enjoyed the challenge of repairing it. Three of her fur babies are enjoying the chair in this picture.

The cat perched on the arm is one of the most beautiful cats I've ever seen. She is mostly black, with little specks of color (mostly orange tabby) sprinkled across the rest of her body. Except the stomach. She has a very interesting stomach. Half of it is white, and half is pure orange tabby.

I am trying to write up a dossier on Diva's problem behaviors. I only have one entry so far. I'm going through the blog archives to find them, because it's here that have chronicled them. I'm starting from the beginning of the blog, and I don't have much written about her way back then. Most of the frustrations that wrote about related to S and C. Mostly S.

But what I came to tell you about is that it's hard to write down all the stories of her transgressions. I have forgotten most of them, stored them in long-term storage so they don't invade my thoughts so often. Now that I'm trying to dig them up, I'm also confronted with the emotions surrounding them. This, of course, is why they are in long-term storage in the first place. I need to get this as finished as possible by 3:00 today, because I want to take it to her therapist this afternoon when we go in for her (my) therapy session. So I'm off to torture myself some more. Wish me luck.

Strange Animal theme

See more funny videos and Cute Animals Videos at Today's Big Thing.

The picture of the lamprey from the previous post was

creeping me out. So here's the world's largest rodent

to make us feel better. Or something.

Home again

And back in the fray. And back to insanity. Seriously. I am not doing well at all.

I was away for a couple of days. 2.5, I think. Is today Wednesday? I came home last night, arriving at 11:30. It was a lovely couple of days. I felt all relaxed and better.

Today it's back. Backporch Priestess probably knew this would happen. She wanted me to stay longer. But I want to be at home. I want to be at home without them. They are little lampreys.

It is remotely possible that I might be a bad mother to compare my children to this creature, but today I'm too fucked up to care.

I can't remember what I was going to say. I have nervous twitches. Doing that shaky thing. And I can't talk clearly. I I I I am am repeating words words words as I try try to to to say what I want to to to say. For example. Thankfully I can write better than that.

I just called Cameron. Now she's all worried about me. She'll call Lady Grace and Backporch Priestess and they'll ... I don't know what they'll do. I appreciate their concern, really I do. It's comforting at a time when there isn't much comfort.

I also took my chill pill. I might feel the beginnings of a tiny bit of chill, but there's a hell of a lot of anxiety to overcome right now.

Anything else I can think to write sounds lame and whiny.

from an Undisclosed Location

I am being intervened.

I didn't mention it in last Friday's post, and honestly I don't remember if I had already planned this trip, but it has been my intention to visit Cameron and Lady Grace when the summer semester was over. On Sunday I met them at their church, a lovely little Episcopal church about half way between my home and theirs. (It's kind of a long drive for them to get to church.) After services we went to their house, and I planned to stay Sunday night and go home Monday evening. Well, that didn't exactly happen.

Yesterday (Monday) Cameron took me to the home of one of their friends, a gracious and lovely woman they call Backporch Priestess. Cameron had told me that Backporch Priestess and I were meant to be friends. Since we had plenty of freedom in our schedule (read: there was no schedule), she took me to meet Backporch Priestess. It was lovely.

Backporch Priestess is one of those "real" people. Unpretentious, open-hearted, with (I discovered) an uncanny perception. We talked, laughed, shared stories, had a lovely time. When Lady Grace got off work, she came over and joined the party. Backporch Priestess made dinner (delicious, of course), and I was peaceful and happy.

Of course, and because it is one of the reasons I have retreated to Cameron and Lady Grace's place, we discussed the current unpleasantness with Diva and Sproing. OH! and Lady Grace is in grad school studying to be a therapist, and she knows stuff. She (and I think Backporch Priestess, maybe) did an internet search and found a place that Diva might be able to go; a wilderness-ish therapeutic school/program thing for troubled children that takes kids as young as Diva and Sproing. (Many places like that take kids 13 and older. Diva and Sproing are 11.) Lady Grace also found some support networks and other resources that may prove useful. I just didn't know what to look for. Like I said, Lady Grace knows stuff!

After we finished dinner, Lady Grace said "I need to tell you something, Java. We are staging an intervention for you." Huh? Here's the thing: Backporch Priestess is very insightful. She has some experience with mentally/emotionally fragile people, and evidently recognized some danger signs in me. She said my hands were shaking while I was talking about the kids. I didn't realize that. Cameron told me that when she first saw me on Sunday her immediate thought was "oh, she looks really bad." And did I mention that last week, on a few occasions both Diva and Sproing, independently, looked at me funny and said "Mom, are you ok? Are you sick?" They noticed that I don't look right. (I haven't noticed, but then I rarely look at myself. I'm not sure how I manage, but I almost never look at myself in the mirror even when I'm standing in front of it, brushing my teeth or combing my hair.)

Cameron and Lady Grace had called Superman. They arranged with him (probably told him point blank) for me to stay here another day. I expected to drive home last night, but it was made clear to me that this was not an option. So I slept here again last night. I will be here all day. Lady Grace is at work, and Cameron and I will go to Lowe's (I'll tell you about that in a minute) and then back to Backporch Priestess' house this afternoon. I hope to go home this evening, really. I'm about out of clothes, and I miss my husband and my own bed. But it is very nice being here, and feels amazingly good knowing that these lovely ladies are so concerned for my mental health.

And let me tell you about That Which Must Be Done. Lady Grace came into possession of a glider rocking chair. She has wanted one for ages, and recently rescued one that was slated for the dump. It is broken, but fixable. Yesterday morning as I was drinking my coffee and relaxing, I studied the chair from across the room. It intrigued me. I approached the chair and, with swift gentleness, laid it on its side. I didn't want to startle or alarm it, but I did need to study its undercarriage. It seems docile enough, and didn't put up any fuss. The linkage at one of the joints in the glider mechanism is missing. Another one on the same side was very loose. It's just a bolt, screwed into a thingie with a free-turning jacket, allowing the glider to, well, glide. I was able to remove the loose bolt and its two washers. Cameron put them in a plastic baggie, and we will go to Lowe's later today to buy another bolt and washers, and a socket wrench with which to reassemble the chair. (I think these girls lose a few lesbian points for not having a set of socket wrenches, but I love them anyway.)

I have an appointment with my therapist on Friday. I was supposed to see her last Thursday but she was out sick, as I think I mentioned. I need to see her. Really. I think when Cameron gets back (she's gone out to run an errand or two) I'll borrow her phone (mine is dead; I didn't bring my charger) and call my therapist's office to see if I can get in to see her tomorrow. 'Cause it's kinda urgent, really. I seem to be doing much worse than I thought.

Right now I'm not thinking about much. I'm not worrying. I'm relaxing. There is nothing I can do right here right now, and the whole point of me being here is to relax. So I am. The only thing I really want to do is fix the glider rocking chair. That will make me happy.

I will now go scare up a cup of coffee. Stay tuned for more exciting adventures in the "Java Goes Crazy" series. The next installment will probably be posted from home. I hope.

Just another manic Friday

I did a bit of school-supply shopping this afternoon. I couldn't bring myself to brave the Evil Retail Empire, so I got the stuff from the office supply retailer. It's a friendlier, smaller store. I got stuff for Diva. Sproing got all of his supplies for the school year at the end of his summer program. I'm glad I don't have to buy double this year.

Diva saw her new therapist yesterday. From what I heard, (about it, not listening in or anything) the new therapist has a keen bull shit detector. She mentioned that Diva was blowing bullshit bubbles. I love that mental image.

So I took some Lorazepam yeasterday. Eh. I was already sleepy, so sleeping wasn't any different. I really didn't feel anything. Took another dose this morning, and can't tell any difference. WTF. I've been on edge all day, very impatient, and have come close to crying (for no logical reason) a couple of times. I see no difference.

I'm tired again, but I won't bore you any more with that.

I got my final grades. I did well on the stats exam, and ended with a 97 in the class. I fudged enough stuff in economics and pulled a 93 outta my ass for that one. Still A's. I'm happy.

I went to the fabric store when I was out earlier today. They had a bunch of stuff marked down 50%. I got a couple of nice pieces of linen. Yes, real linen! It feels so good! I got three yards of some bold purple 100% cotton diamond pique. It is a good bottom weight fabric, and I may make a skirt from it. Or perhaps I'll make a jumper for the Darling Diva. I'll probably think about it for a long time, make elaborate plans for it, but never actually do anything. That's my style.

That's all I know right now. ta-ta

Briefly - and I really mean it this time

Ever since I finished my stats exam this morning I've been keeping myself going with the knowledge that I had an appointment with my therapist this afternoon. An hour before the appointment time I got a call. She's out sick today. I cried.

I still had to go to the office, though, because Diva had her first appointment with a new therapist at that office. I'm home now, and I've just taken my Lorazepam.

Goodnight.

Free? or Freefalling?

I'm done with classes until September. This makes me happy. I've got 3.5 weeks off from school. This also makes me happy. The kidlets start school in 1.5 weeks, so I'll have two weeks free from school and the kids during school hours. This makes me extremely happy.

I'm bone weary. Tired, weary, mentally and emotionally exhausted.

The statistics grades are posted now. I got a 97 on the test (yay me!) and a 97 (unofficial) for the course. This makes me happy. In economics, all the grades are posted except the final exam. That goes up tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I got an A in the course, though, unless I totally bombed the exam, and I don't think I did.

Thursday

Today is my Friday. Today marks the end of one set of stress; it is the final day of the summer semester. In a few minutes I will go take my statistics final exam. I've studied, and I am about as ready as I'm going to be.

I studied for the stats test yesterday afternoon. I was tired, so sometime around 6:00 p.m. I lay down for a nap. I slept until after 11:00. I got up and studied for my economics final. I really wanted to have that test out of the way by now, so I spent about an hour studying for that, then took the test. It's an online class, so I take the tests online, too. I didn't put a terrific amount of effort into preparing for that test, because my grades going into it are pretty solid. In order to make an A in the class I only need to score somewhere around 75% on this test. I probably did better than that, but I won't know until tomorrow.

It's a similar situation in statistics. My grade going into the class is relatively high, so I can score in the high 70s on this exam and still squeeze by with a low A. Once it's on the transcript, an A is an A, no matter if it's 100% or 90%. I like A's. I may have mentioned that.

In other news, I see my therapist this afternoon. I need that! Diva sees her new therapist at the same time. Her new therapist works in the same office as my therapist. This should work out well. I made a couple of copies of Diva's psych evaluation results/summary, one for each therapist. My gal is very curious about Diva's evaluation.

I'm extremely tired. I got 5 hours of sleep early last night, was up for about 3 hours, then got another 3-4 hours of sleep. I'm having a difficult time keeping my eyes open this morning. I hope I have enough brain power to run my system while taking the statistics exam.

When Diva and I get home from our therapy sessions this afternoon, I'm finally going to take that chill-pill my shrink prescribed. He wanted me to take it Tuesday, but I just couldn't do it before exams. I'm afraid if I take it, I'll chill so much that I won't be able to study. I'll tell ya', though, I am very much looking forward to experiencing the chill this evening!

OK, time to attack the final stats exam. I'll try to post later if I'm not too loopy.

I was right

Unfortunately, I was right to take away Diva and Sproing's clothing. Superman is back home (hallelujah!) and today he let Sproing get dressed to mow the lawn. Sproing was in the front yard unsupervised, and he left the yard (a clear violation of the terms of his imprisonment) to go see the elderly widow who lives across the street from us. This is the one neighbor they haven't vandalized or stolen from yet. She gave him two small yogurt-sized cartons of some kind of frozen treat, one of which he brought home to share with his sister.

Superman has either forgotten, or never quite grasped the severity of this new world order we're imposing. He was gone for three days, away from the little hellions. Today he's been much too soft on them, and they are taking advantage of him. I am exhausted and stressed, and I concentrated on resting and studying today. The kids were not supervised adequately. I'm pissed now, and even more stressed.

As a consequence of his disobedience, Sproing gets to stay in his room all day tomorrow with no clothes at all, not even a t-shirt. I'll let him cover up and come out to eat and use the bathroom, but that's it. Hopefully everyone in charge will be consistent with this program.

I hate being this mean. I didn't use to be this hard-assed with the kids, but look where it got us. So now I'm mean.

as we roll along

I saw my psychiatrist today. He had heard that I was very upset yesterday and wanted the details. So I told him. And I told him what steps we are taking with the kids, both immediately at home and for counseling/treatment. I explained to him that we have been trying to get some help, find a residential care facility or an intensive program or something, but have been unsuccessful in our search. He says we need a case worker or social worker. Yes, but where? The social services dept. won't help us because we aren't abusing our kids. So what, am I supposed to abuse them in order to get any assistance? (I won't, but there are some tempting scenarios...) My doctor says "you need help with these children." Right. I just told you that.

But he gave me a prescription for some chill pills. Lorazepam, a benzodiazepine. According to the wikipedia entry, it has a relatively high addictive potential. I'm not sure how I'd know if I was addicted to it. Frankly, it kinda scares me. He wants me to take it today, but I have a paper due for economics and I've not finished all the reading. I have to study for my statistics final exam. Tomorrow is a regular class day, and he's going to use the time to answer any questions we have about any of the stuff we've covered. I don't know what questions I have because I haven't looked over it carefully enough to find specific areas of weakness. I need to do that TONIGHT! And I need to write a paper. And I got 4.5 hours of restless sleep last night. Light just told me to take a nap before I start studying, and I'm going to take her advice just as soon as I finish checking my email (I'm done, unless something else comes in within the next few minutes) and writing this brief blog entry. Anyway, I'm not going to take the Lorazepam until after I've done my studying.

Superman took Sproing to a new and different mental health care provider this morning. It was an initial interview thing, to see if he qualifies for thier services. He does! This is an all-in-one place that does group and individual counseling, and they have their own child psychiatrists who work exclusively with the center. The boy has his first official counseling appointment next week (if I remember what Superman said). Hopefully this will be the beginning of some useful stuff for him.

As for the girl, she has an appointment with a new therapist on Thursday. We shall see. We're trying a different approach for her, one that might help get her into a residential care facility sooner than if she was in the program Sproing will do.

I'm tired. There is more I want to say (isn't there always?) but right now I need a nap, then I'm gonna study. TTFN

Yet another conversation with hard-headed children

The kids and I got back from taking S home this afternoon. It had been half an hour or so since the police officer left us. I thought about what he and I had discussed, and had watched the children interact with me, S, and each other. Thoughts are forming. Things need to be said. I talked to Diva first. She watched me, face downcast but eyes right on me. It gives her the appearance of a pout, the angry kind of pout. That may or may not be accurate, but that's what it looks like.

Then I talked to Sproing. I spent a little longer with him, as he seemed a little more receptive to my message. Maybe he was, maybe he fools me better, I don't know.

Here follows the gist of my message to them.

I am legally responsible for your actions and behaviors. Do you know what that means? (No, of course they don't. It was a rhetorical question anyway) Who broke the windows on the neighbor's house? Who stole the money from the other neighbor's family? That's right, it was you. Who gets in trouble with the law because of those things? No, not you. Me. Your father and I do, because you are our children. You are not adults, and since Daddy and I are your parents, we are in trouble with the police/law because of what you did. Do you think that is fair? (They had the good sense to say it wasn't fair.) I did not break the windows or steal the money. Neither did Daddy, but we are responsible for those things because you did them.

I try to be an honest person. I am careful to do the right thing, to tell the truth, and to not take things that don't belong to me. I have a lot of respect for other people and for the stuff that belongs to them. Haven't I taught you to respect yourself, respect others, and do the right thing? (It's my mantra. I have been drilling that into their thick little heads ever since I heard it at one of the elementary schools on my bus route. It's been at least 3, probably 4 years since I boiled it all down to those three basic rules.) You aren't getting the message. You aren't trying to live by the basic rules. As a matter of fact, you're getting worse. To my knowledge, you've never taken as much as $300 before. That is a lot of money. (To Sproing, as he alone was guilty of this) - As far as I know, you have never taken money out of someone's purse or wallet in their own home, like you did to your friend's mother. That's getting worse, not better.

Since I am legally responsible for the things you do, I need to make sure you don't do the wrong things. We have tried different punishments on you before. You've been grounded and restricted, had privileges taken away, been spanked. We have set rules that you know and understand. These things obviously aren't working. We have tried to treat you with respect. We have tried to trust you. We have allowed you the freedom to have your own friends, to play with your friends, to play in the neighborhood by yourself. No more. I am legally responsible for your actions. It is my duty as your parent to make sure you do not break the law. The only way I can be reasonably sure that you won't break the law is to keep you locked up here at home.

So that's what we're doing. You will no longer be allowed out. You will stay here in your room for a very, very, very long time. I'm not talking about hours. I'm not talking about days. No, I mean weeks. Weeks and weeks, and probably months of this. Otherwise I can't keep track of you. I can't make sure you aren't breaking the law again.

When you break the law like this, you can go to jail. Yes, Daddy and I are held legally responsible, but the state juvenile justice department has a special prison for children, the juvenile detention center. If you keep doing the things you have been doing, that is where you will be. I don't want you to go to jail. It's not a nice place. There are other children there who are a lot meaner than you, who have done a lot worse than you. I don't want for you to be with them. The only way I can see to keep you from committing more crimes and ending up at the department of juvenile justice detention center (DJJ lock-up) is to keep you at home. So, for your safety and my reputation, you will stay home from now on.

And that's pretty much, more or less, what I told them. I talk a lot. I've had conversations of this nature with both of these kids for years. It hasn't been this specific message before today, but they often hear my lectures. And, obviously, it does no good. I must do it, though. For one thing, they must have the chance to hear the conditions, the rules, the consequences. For another thing, it's a compulsion with me. I talk. I lecture. I must.

I say some wonderful things, too. You'd be amazed at what a fountain of wisdom and common sense I am when I'm in full lecture mode. (Lecture mode is very different from all-out yell, scream, rant mode. There's practically no wisdom or common sense in those atrocities.) Alas, it is wasted on these reprobates.

It's a balancing act, and a damned difficult one. On one hand, I am responsible for keeping them out of trouble. On the other hand, I'm responsible for taking good care of them. I don't think it's healthy for 11-year-olds to be kept in their rooms all the time, to not be able to play with others, make friends, etc. And one of the reasons they are in their rooms here, not just in the house, is that I'm trying to protect my own property as well. When I said to the boy that he had not, to my knowledge, taken money from someone's wallet, I was excluding the wallets of members of this household. They both have stolen money and property from probably everyone who has lived in this household in the last five years. That includes S and C. They started stealing stuff from Light and Twitch when they (Diva and Sproing) were 6 years old. By "stealing" I mean with malice aforethought. A three-year-old taking big sister's crayons doesn't qualify for this definition.

All the bedroom doors except Diva's and Sproing's have keyed entry doorknobs. It didn't used to be that way, but the older they got, the more stuff they were taking from our rooms. As it is, my bedroom door has been jimmied so many times that the lock is useless. I know she breaks in there all the time. I'm not sure whether he's guilty of that or not. I don't trust him, though. I don't trust either one of them.

So that's where we are now. I'm trying to be diligent, keeping an eye and ear on them. I have taken a tiny step back from the ragged edge of the abyss I was hovering over earlier today. Superman is on his way home from Chattanooga right now, and he'll be picking up Light on his way. I'll have reinforcements tomorrow! Also, my appointment with the psychiatrist was rescheduled (with no fee imposed) for 8:00 tomorrow morning. I need that. And I see my counselor on Thursday. Don't know what good all that will do, but at least they will know what's going on.

It's getting worse - do you really want to read this? Feel free to move along to the next blog on your list. I don't mind.

As I begin this post, it is 3:11 p.m. My father-in-law has been in surgery for just over an hour. He is having half of one of his kidneys removed. Superman is there in Chattanooga with his family, and has been away from home since Saturday morning. I am at home with Sproing and Diva. Light left home Thursday evening to spend the weekend with Cameron and Lady Grace Dreamweaver, and won't be home until tonight or tomorrow.

I'm setting the stage here, just stating some facts, trying to get a clear picture of what's going on. My fingers are thinking out loud, so this may ramble a bit. (As opposed to most of my posts, when I ramble a lot.)Have patience, or don't read; whatever you wish. It doesn't matter to me.

This is the final week of classes for the summer semester. I have two final exams this week, and one more writing assignment due in economics. In statistics, my quiz grades have been dropping. I was making A's there for a while, but the last three or four quizzes have been B's and C's. The frustrating thing about that is that I think I understand it, but the quiz grades show otherwise. I got a B on the last test. I want an A. I always want an A.

I had a 1:00 appointment with my psychiatrist this afternoon, but wasn't able to make it because I was at home talking to the kind police officer who came by to "do" a report (or whatever those things are) on Sproing and Diva. Investigate a new claim? Process a new complaint? Whatever works, that's why he was here. Yes, I said "new." This has nothing to do with the vandalism of last week, or the $300 theft. I think the theft victim isn't going to file a complaint. We'd have heard something about it by now, I think. Besides, he was visiting from out of town and has gone back to Arkansas now. Have I gotten off track with this paragraph? Time for a new one.

The poor, sweet little old lady who lives next door (on the south side) filed a complaint against our children. I don't blame her a bit. They are vile little scamps. This neighbor is not the one who had $300 stolen from her home. That neighbor lives on the north side of us. The south neighbor didn't have any one specific complaint, but a series of little things that have added up over the months (nay, years). I don't remember what the officer called this complaint. Not vandalism, since it's mostly just mess, nothing broken enough to consider it vandalism. I don't know. I think this paragraph is bogging down, too. Next!

Oh, here's another item to add to the things-currently-causing-stress-for-Java list. I got a text from Twitch yesterday. One of the other three guys with whom he shares an apartment thinks that Twitch's twitches are maliciously intentional. A brief review: Twitch, age 18, first quarter in college, has Tourette's Syndrome with accompanying tics. Hence the name "Twitch." He does. And it's annoying. His apartment mate "J" thinks Twitch is doing this just to annoy, and doesn't believe that it's a medical/neurological condition. (Medical? Neurological? Other? I don't know.) Twitch told "J" that the tics bother him as much if not more than they bother everyone else, and he can't really stop them. I'm not sure what will come of all this, and I'm not going to get involved if I don't need to. This is one of those things Twitch needs to work out on his own. I talked to my dad about it yesterday, though, and he recommended that Twitch go to the school counseling office (or something like that) and see about how best to work it out. I intend to pass on that recommendation to Twitch. Otherwise, I'm staying out if it.

So, everyone else is out of town, and I'm here alone with Diva and Sproing. They are under house-arrest (per my command, not by order of the legal authorities) (yet) and obviously cannot be trusted to be left alone at home. (One may wonder if it's safe to leave them here with me, but that's a blog post for another time.) I have statistics class from 10 - noon, Monday through Thursday. So, last night I called my sweet boy S (see side bar, cast of characters) to see if he would come stay with them while I was in class. He was available, and willing to help out. Bless his heart! He and C are currently without transportation, so I put the kids in the truck and drove over to get him this morning. It was so good to see him! It's been a while. He follows the blog, so he knew what has been going on.

We got here and I showed him around a bit, showed him the room they used to occupy. It looks very different now. Light had her way with it. That's the room she and I share now, with my office taking up some of the space. Anyway, I told him what the kids could (not much) and couldn't (a lot) do, then left for class.

All this while I have my father-in-law (FIL) on the brain. I'm waiting for a text from Superman to tell me when he goes into surgery. During class I looked at my phone to see if there were any messages, and saw that I'd missed a call from home. Hmmm. S knows I'm in class, and wouldn't call unless it was something serious. Still, I didn't check with him until class was over. Alas, he called because the nice police officer wanted to talk to me. When he couldn't get me, he called Superman, who of course couldn't rush right over to take care of things, being, as he is, in Chattanooga, Tennessee. The officer left, promising to return between 12 and 12:30. Do you remember the part about me having an appointment with my psychiatrist at 1:00? I probably need to see my shrink right about now.

However, I have a legal responsibility at home, so I came home to wait for the police officer. When he still wasn't here by 12:20, I called the shrink's office to reschedule. Unfortunately, their phone line is closed from 12 to 1 every day, so I couldn't get through. I won't be able to get through until time for my appointment. If I don't call in advance to cancel my appointment, I get charged for the visit even if I don't show up. I can't call, because they don't answer their phones. I had no clue before 12:00 that I wouldn't make it to the appointment. I had arranged with S to be with the kids so I could see the doctor. AAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!!!!!

The police officer got here around 12:40. We talked. He listened to me (!) unlike the young buck who showed up last week. This guy is a little older, and the father of 4 children himself. The whipper-snapper who came last week is young, and (I asked today's officer) has no children of his own. Last week the young guy wouldn't listen to me, and essentially blamed me for my children's behavior. Stress.

Aside: To my dear, most beloved regular readers, I am about as honest and forthright as I can be on this forum. I have chronicled the misadventures of these children for the past 1.5 (or so) years I've been writing this here bloggie thing. I believe I have established that I do not condone their mischievous or criminal behavior. I actively discourage it. I punish them for it. From your perspective, is this a true and accurate statement?

Picking up where we left off...

Today's representative from the city police force was a kind and patient man. He let me explain our situation, about how we've been trying to get help for the kids for a couple of years, about how they have been under psychiatric care with counseling for at least two years, and that we are in the process of seeking further, different treatment for them since (obviously) what we've done so far hasn't had the desired effect. I told him that I had taken away everything except their bedding, including their clothes so that they wouldn't sneak out of the house. He seemed surprised that they would sneak out even when they were grounded. He was nice, he sympathized, he encouraged us to continue in our efforts to get help for them. We will be apprised of the court date, and yada yada yada. I thanked him very much.

I just got a call from Superman. At 4:45 FIL was out of surgery. The doctors took the whole kidney, which made the surgery easier. FIL is doing well so far, is in recovery, awake, etc. The oncologist filleted the kidney and found that the tumor was very very close but not invading the renal artery. It was a very aggressive tumor, had doubled in size since they first found it two months ago. Superman said it was the kind of tumor that has a casing around it (none of this means anything to me, but I'm relaying it anyway, just in case) and is not likely to have metastasized. Taking the whole kidney was the right move, though.

FIL had an ablation (?) to his other kidney two months ago. There were some smaller places in that one, and they zapped 'em with a probe. I have a lot less information about that, obviously. At any rate, there may be enough of a problem with his kidney function now that he might have to go on dialysis, and he is very much against that idea. We won't know for a little while. I don't know anything else.

Let's return to our previous discussion. After the police officer left, we drove S home and came right back here. The young criminals went back to their rooms. After taking a few minutes to reflect, I went to talk to each of them individually. I'll tell you about those discussions in the next post. This one is already way too long.