I had a rough day yesterday. Just ask my friend Buzz, who happened to call me after getting a scope put up her butt. She thought she had it rough? Big, colon-cleaned baby. I’m kind of hoping she was still drugged up because I’d rather she didn’t recall all the swear words I used in our conversation.
I woke up way too early yesterday. I did not need more awake hours to a very bad day.
And I certainly didn’t need my dog to misbehave so badly that I spent an hour’s drive running through a conversation I was going to have later on with the dog rescue people, who I was planning on returning the damn dog to.
No. I didn’t return her. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.
Stupid damn dog.
I spent the day trying to figure out how in the hell we’re going to deal with the possible return of our older son. And then I spent more time trying to figure out how I’m going to deal with people who make comments about what I should do and how wimpy a parent I am. Insinuating I have no house rules.
Are you fucking kidding me?
I have house rules. What would make you think that someone like me wouldn’t have fucking house rules? That makes me worry about your comprehension skills.
And if it were easy to just turn my back on my son, I’d do it. But it’s not easy. It’s a fucking nightmare. And how’s about when and if your child goes through this, you turn your back on them and then you tell me how you could live with yourself.
There are other options to try first. You’re not helping me. You’re making it more difficult for me. Stop it.
That would be a Comment Rule.
Hells bells, I’ve got Comment Rules. How do I not have House Fucking Rules?*
*I think somebody needs to have some fun today. Don’t you?
I never thought you didn’t have house rules – I think you just have a son who wants to run his own show – and at some level I know you understand that.
I was the kid who wanted my own rules too – I just hated people telling me what to do. It’s going to work out for you as he grows and matures (and maybe gets treatment!).
Don’t be so hard on yourself. You sound like a damn good mother. Just say ‘F-you’ to the people who don’t get it and keep truckin’ on….oh, and a drink and app at a favorite establishment might help too…after you’ve gone for a pedicure. Go easy on you – you’ve got a tough gig right now and like all things it too will pass.
What kind of fun you interested in? Movie? Drinks? Drinks & a movie? How about a dip in our pool?
I agree, it’s not easy to turn your back on your child. Nor is it easy to impose house rules on them, and then kick them out if they don’t follow them. Be strong, KLo!
Each one of us can only do our best. OUR. BEST.
It’s a really hard rule to remember, but when we do, it helps us treat the people around us with the respect (most of them) deserve.
Fun? What’s fun? My 100% PTSD brother had a meltdown, saying he wanted to die, in front of my 89 year old dad early yesterday morning. Seems he feels it’s unfair that my OTHER brother got to die last July and steal his spotlight. Or some shit.
I’m running away from home.
Hey KLo…. remember that we only see what you present here. None of us live with you or walk in your shoes. I know this whole situation has been really, really hard on you; I cannot imagine the pain you’re going through. You are a damn good mother, I know you are. But rough times happen to good people, unfortunately. I was hoping that Thing 1 would stay gone long enough for you and Thor and Thing 2 to have a bit of healing, but I am guessing that Thing 1 isn’t cooperating. I don’t have any advice for you; all I’m saying is that I wish I could kidnap you for the evening, take you out to dinner and drinks and a funny movie.
New Rule, K-lo makes all the rules in her blog and home! Hater comments not welcome!
smooches, K!
Nobody said you didn’t have house rules. What I said — anybody else? — was that your son didn’t see fit to honor them, or you. And nobody hates you, I think I told you that before.
No, it isn’t easy to turn your kids away. No, it isn’t easy to say, you don’t like my rules, you’re not obliged to stay here. The more you love your kids, the harder it is.
It is also, incidentally, very hard to think that people don’t believe you know what you’re talking about.
Sorry to hear things are not going well, I was hoping you would get a bit more of a break than this. Was also hoping it would be a nice turning point for everybody involved. Well, maybe it still will be. Hang in there!
Oh, Kathy! I guess I missed the part where the situation with Thing 1 may be changing, but I still want to send support and positive thoughts your way. Having been on a similar road a few years ago ( I promise no more book-length emails!), I know only too well that what you and your family are dealing with is known only to you. Hello! – a blog is not an invitation to the world to get all up in your business.
Anyway, I know you love your son, and that whatever you decide to do will be determined with his interest at heart. Take care of yourself along the way, and remember, none of this will be forever.
But I do have some advice that may be of help … never pass up a chance for dark chocolate.
Wow, Alison is like a prophet. I’m all in awe and can’t think of any witticisms to say.
I missed the entry. By honing my fierce detective skills, I’m guessing that Son #1 is unhappy where he is and wants to come home. I’m guessing you shared that you were planning to let him and got blasted for not having rules in your home or not making him follow them? Ok. Here are some words of wisdom from my Grama. She WAS wise. She lived to be over 90, she had time to be wise. “I don’t live in that house. I don’t sleep in that bed.” In other words, you can’t judge other people’s family life. Ok, now that that’s done here’s my advice: You do what you have to do. If I haven’t told you that before, you may slap me when we meet. BECAUSE IT’S IMPORTANT and I should have told you that. ALL (good) mothers are enablers to a point! That’s what mothering is for pete’s sake! Do what you have to do. If that doesn’t work…do something else. BTW, you would have liked my Grama. She was married four times. To: Fred, Ed, Ted and Red. And they’re all dead. It’s true!
I hear you loud and clear. Those kinds of comments are the last thing I needed when my youngest daughter was wreaking havoc on my spirit. Even though she damn near broke me, I couldn’t have turned my back on her, although I did have to distance myself emotionally. as well as I could, that is. They’re still our children.