Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Another day, another...

Another day, another opportunity for my eldest and dearest to tell me to "fuck off." His language is such a delight! It always makes me self-reflect, wondering, classically, where did I go wrong? At what point did he decide that life "in the box" was not his thing? I don't even know WHAT his thing is anymore.

I don't know where he thinks he will end up. To him, the streets seem a viable and sometimes preferable place to being in a home where he has to attend classes and not fail them, oh, and not commit crimes. That is ALL we require. I don't demand that he do chores, or get straight A's (hell, I don't demand C's), or even be nice to people.

BUT...the streets is where he'd prefer to be. I'm not sure what to do about it. I thought therapy would be good, but he refuses to comply. Medication he won't take. He simply says, "fuck off."

God, I'm so glad I decided to procreate.

This morning, I dreamt of my mother. I was so relieved that she was here and ready to tackle the problem of J. I cannot quite convey the intense disappointment when I wakened to a darkened room, with my husband snoring away and my dog curled up in between my knees.

Damn, it's all on me. Still.

9 comments:

Dale said...

Oh, Lord. So sorry. Hugs --

Adriana Bliss said...

Such is life, Dale. :) This too shall pass, as they say.

Lori said...

Wow. I don't know how you manage. Oy vey.

I wonder what those bootcamps for delinquent kids cost? ;)

Loretta said...

I'm very glad to see you writing here again, Adriana, but I'm sorry life is difficult for you right now. Yes, it will pass. All of our lives will, for that matter. That's the encouraging part! ;-)

As for wondering where you went wrong, well, I'm not sure you can take the blame (or the credit) for anything your children do or don't do. It's so much more complicated than that -- especially during these times, when we're all bombarded with such an incredibly gigantic number of influences, hour by hour. Imagine the effect on impressionable minds! Garbage in, garbage out....

Something you wrote in this regard did strike me, however: I don't demand that he do chores, or get straight A's (hell, I don't demand C's), or even be nice to people. Maybe next time you procreate -- you know, in an alternate universe or something -- try demanding more. Who knows? Maybe it'll make a difference.

In the meantime, I hope you have some moments, if not whole days, of respite from your thoughts, and I hope J. is zapped with some common sense and equilibrium soon.

Adriana Bliss said...

Good point Loretta. I probably should add one word to that statement: anymore.

We began with high demands and over the years have reduced to stay reasonable. When it was clear A's weren't happening, we dipped to B's. When B's weren't happening, we went to C's...etc. When he first lay in my arms, he was going to be a doctor...and now, I pray the child gets a high school degree. The whole thing gives me a headache.

Adriana Bliss said...

Lori, I'm too scared of boot camps! It's okay, I'm going to use my own boot...on his behind.

Loretta said...

Oh, but of course! It goes without saying that one can't demand achievement of anyone, much less of children. I was thinking more of the other kinds of demands you mentioned, regarding chores, being nice, etc.: the tit-for-tat stuff, rather than the pie-in-the-sky stuff. But I don't mean to suggest that there's anything you could've done differently that would've altered the outcome of your situation. I've lived far too many years to be able to still kid myself with notions of "free will" and causality.

In any event, thank you so much for your compelling blog entries (you're an uncommonly good writer!), and for your unstinting willingness to offer us truthful glimpses of your self and your life -- which in turn offer us truthful glimpses of our lives, as well. Please know that you're not alone, by any means, and that we're all suffering these strange days together.

Oh, and don't curse the fates for not having given you a future doctor. They dropped one off on me, and she's insufferable! All I wanted was a poet, or an artist, or a musician...high-school diploma be damned. Instead, I'm unceasingly hounded by a facts-and-figures-spouting 45-year-old automaton who evidently believes that MRIs and pharmaceuticals are deserving of religious veneration! Naturally, we love her, but.... ;-)

Michelle. said...

This somehow sums up my fears.

I was just thinking the other day, "What if I am not able to relate to their lives when they grow up?"

I have a two year old girl and a seven month old boy.

I am always looking ahead and the unknown scares me.

I can not leave any word of wisdom, because I'm sure you have walked back and forth on this road I am just now taking.

Maybe I should just say, I understand the part that you just love them so much and you want nothing else but for them to be safe and happy. That feeling I know.

From a less experienced mom...

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