So, it happened again. The girl child, after enduring nearly a month of grounding (to include the times she spends at her father's house in Cali.) convinced her step-father to convince me that she should be given early release based upon her own recognizance. It was granted, under the terms that she pay back those three early release days when she returned to her Coloradoland. She was given two requirements:
1.) Do not enter this one particular boy's home (name withheld for reasons of douchebaggery) under ANY circumstances. If done, the consequences will hurt.
2.) Do not let anybody or anything touch this, the latest in a series of murdered phones,THIS phone. If anything happens to it, the consequences will hurt.
Well, she did both. And came home crying, sans phone, about how right I am about all these shady fucking shitty people she is spending and investing her time in and with.
I have to tell you, to watch her cry over the absolute betrayal she felt and the final comprehension that maybe I sort of have a clue what the fuck I am talking about was heartbreaking. Truth be told I did not want to be right about these kids. I have warned her for two years about the outcome heading her way if she stayed with this crowd. But, honestly, I really, really did not want to be right.
But I was.
Right.
Greedy, thieving, deprived, unloved, unconditioned, living to survive throw your friend under the bus for a cigarette fuckers.
I was there, on the ready when the brothers called crying because their crazy drug addled mother hit them hard and publicly. Ready to go save their asses and bring them to MY home, to peace and safety. On the ready, to pay for their lunch, dinner, clothes, bad habits, you name it.
They are "a product of their environment" I told myself and anyone else who would listen. It isn't their fault.
My heart broke over and over for these boys.
But they are not my fault nor are they my responsibility.
Neither is my daughter's good heart and good will.
You little fuckers.
Will you bite the hand that feeds you?
Well, of course.
It's human nature.
But it is sort of wrenching to watch those you create, nurture and endure as they suffer that lesson.
1.) Do not enter this one particular boy's home (name withheld for reasons of douchebaggery) under ANY circumstances. If done, the consequences will hurt.
2.) Do not let anybody or anything touch this, the latest in a series of murdered phones,THIS phone. If anything happens to it, the consequences will hurt.
Well, she did both. And came home crying, sans phone, about how right I am about all these shady fucking shitty people she is spending and investing her time in and with.
I have to tell you, to watch her cry over the absolute betrayal she felt and the final comprehension that maybe I sort of have a clue what the fuck I am talking about was heartbreaking. Truth be told I did not want to be right about these kids. I have warned her for two years about the outcome heading her way if she stayed with this crowd. But, honestly, I really, really did not want to be right.
But I was.
Right.
Greedy, thieving, deprived, unloved, unconditioned, living to survive throw your friend under the bus for a cigarette fuckers.
I was there, on the ready when the brothers called crying because their crazy drug addled mother hit them hard and publicly. Ready to go save their asses and bring them to MY home, to peace and safety. On the ready, to pay for their lunch, dinner, clothes, bad habits, you name it.
They are "a product of their environment" I told myself and anyone else who would listen. It isn't their fault.
My heart broke over and over for these boys.
But they are not my fault nor are they my responsibility.
Neither is my daughter's good heart and good will.
You little fuckers.
Will you bite the hand that feeds you?
Well, of course.
It's human nature.
But it is sort of wrenching to watch those you create, nurture and endure as they suffer that lesson.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
I keep trying to remember/remind myself how difficult adolescence can be & to try to look at the kids' issues with the understanding that they - - not only don't have a full toolbox - - they rarely understand how to use the tools that the do have.
I've been thinking of having A.E. Housman's poem printed, framed and mounted on both sides of Spawn's door, and each of her bedroom walls:
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.
as always, best of luck!
he puts up with their shit for a while and then just gets pissed and rattles their cage a bit