Thursday, August 30, 2012
I'd just heard recently about a young lady that I know who stole her Grandma's credit card and drove the bill up to $900. This young lady in another state broke her Grandma's heart. This is not an adoption issue. this was in a birth family, this is what drugs did to a once sweet girl.
In contrast, my own drug-free daughter, who's about the same age, mid 30s, gave me the above plant. Gina's a giver, not a taker. This flower is referred to as a Mexican Blue Belle, a Mexican petunia, a desert petunia and is considered invasive, which is why I planted it where I did, confined and unable to overtake any vegetables.
My mom suggested that the Grandma press charges, which is exactly what one should do in order to not enable, but that Grandma demurred, "My heart just isn't strong enough for this," as she's even older than my own 82 year old mother.
I do understand this woman's reluctance, I really do, as sometimes I'm afraid my own feeble, too-often broken heart will visibly shatter, explode, detonate, or expire in front of my eyes.
My heart and my entire being hurts for this lady that I've known since I was a teenager. She's super sweet, a very giving, loving, now very elderly woman.
I'd once had a kid kinda sorta accidentally drive a cell phone bill up to $800 in one month, a sum that nearly killed me right on the spot.
Part of the reason, no a main reason money's become tight for us lately is that I am providing my teenagers with smart phones, it's almost required anymore what with the need to be connected. I also don't want them to be the only 8 poor kids at our high school without a phone.
It burns my butt then that they'll use these phones to access Facebook and complain when I didn't believe them when they'd been caught lying. Or yesterday that one of them blasted inappropriate music from his phone, because I'd dared to say no to an outlandish request at the moment.
So they then use what is costing me about $600 a month, every month, plus buying the dang things, to lash out at me.
How does that make any sense to anyone?
I do not provide cell phones for my grown kids, who could afford that? They need to be responsible for their own bills, unless they are attending college, and then I will continue to help a bit. I have always also had 18 and/or 19 year old kids still in high school, and I do continue to provide for them.
I don't want to enable anyone, nor to create entitlement feelings, I don't look for gratitude anymore, because that expectation has been knocked slap out of me, because I've learned it just isn't possible for them to express it - as it then, by definition, demonstrates that I'm doing what their birth parents would not do - and they're just not able to understand that it isn't, nor wasn't, their fault.
They still over-personalize it, they still feel as if they should've tried harder to continue their broken home situation against all odds. As if it is their fault that there was drug addiction or alcoholism or criminal activities.
It take s a long, long time to get past that mindset. And a lot of generously paid for by Medicaid therapy. There's y'all's tax dollars at work and I'm very grateful for this gift.
The one who'd blown up yesterday stalked off to his room to slam the door because I'd walked away, disengaged quickly, dove into waiting chores, knowing there was no ability reasoning skills to appropriate at that time of his explosive anger.
"You're welcome for the phone," I wanted to holler after him, but didn't do so, not wanting to fuel any flames, but also afraid his birth brother, his emotional twin, might then catch the brunt of his ire. The other ET has zero impulse control issues. Fortunately it didn't happen, I like to think it was because I was praying under my breath as I loudly worked off my own irritation.
Three hours later he came back downstairs, glowering at me, slamming an innocent cereal bowl around the kitchen, leaving the milk out to provoke me.
"Wanna hug?" I asked him, totally catching him off guard as he was clearly afraid I was fixing to say, "You need to apologize to me."
"I'm sorry," he said without any sort of prompt by me.
"I'm sorry I got mad," I told him.
This is what progress looks like in oppositional children.
He's a month away from his 17th birthday, he's exceedingly handsome and he has a girlfriend, he always has a girlfriend, and a list of waiting ones as well.
I took that opportunity to tell him, as I'd told his handsome mujeriego older brother, El Guapito, a thousand times, "You gotta work out your mommy issues before you can function properly in any relationship with anyone else."
He is intensely emotionally demanding, insecure, and overly-volatile, not a great combination, but he does have the capacity to attach, to love, and to function quite properly, if he can control his temper and his very, very exhaustively demanding ways. I sometimes refer to him as El Demando here at home, to which he automatically flashes his beautiful white teeth, his gorgeous and shy smile in a happy response.
Dude, that wasn't a compliment.