Toys

He honestly can't help himself, his level of distractibility is insanely high, and he was virtually unable to lift the last few heavy stones from my truck without being tempted away by a bucket and the sprinkler.

He was yelling something about these being 'Beaner toys.'  He has no filter, no inner brakes, he yells stuff like this at church too.

I hadn't asked him to help, I never do anymore, because it only leads to a screaming fit, thrown by him, that irks me so bad I can't even find the will to continue my own work.  So I just let him be, ignoring the negative behaviors, disengaging, and wondering the point of it all.

If I'm completely unable to teach him how to not be oppositional, then what future success will he find?

When I discover him eating in the living room, he denies that he's doing what I see him doing.  If I'm dumb enough to pursue it logically, it just ends up with him having a complete meltdown.

I am completely unable to change a psychiatric diagnosis of human behavior, I'm just a human trying to help him to at least manage this aspect of his personality.  That he's not mentally ill nor dangerous is good enough for me.  He's embarrassing, that's all.  I can deal with that.

He's very popular at his high school, Jack told me that he also single-handedly rebukes the cussing middle schoolers on the bus, that they then back down because they want his approval.  Go figure.

I stayed out til dark, as I often do because It's not happiness I'm pursuing, but simply some peaceful moments.

I'm weirdly glad I'm not in a relationship that would also tax me, the always under the surface stress of it, the predilection for strife as two people have two opinions.  I just need some inner peace, or even a sense that I didn't completely waste my life, seemingly making very little difference to folks.

I suppose that Sarah did not move far, far away to escape the pressure here is at least a decent testimony to my ability as a parent, the one birth child having turned out so beautifully, as have many other children of mine, I always need to remind myself.

That I somehow put ten kids through college so far also feels good.

We'd again run out of milk, I had on a raggedy tank top and just didn't wanna change clothes, so I gave Jack and Scotty a $20 to run into AJs and grab us four gallons while I sat my dirty self in the van, I just didn't feel like having to make small talk with anyone, that too feels too emotionally demanding.

I'm just tired, tired of trying to teach kids simple things in life like honesty or barely sub-human half-decent behavior only to have them melt down in response, rude and full of themselves as only a non bill paying teenager is ignorant enough to act.

That they can't see the 27 grown kids who've gone on before them, struggling mightily.  Or can they not see all of my other kids who've worked so very hard to succeed, those that also came out of the foster care system with many odds against them?  Hello?

I worked with those stones until my aching back screamed in response, I'm happy with the results so far, glad to have found a free source of that which I need.  I need to not keep looking at potential rainfall via Hurricane Isaac, the back and forth predictions send me happy news then crushing news that it's gonna move westward of here.

I'd be willing to wager, I'd hazard a guess that this tiny section of this small county, a one mile radius of my home, has seen the least amount of rainfall in years compared to every other section of Georgia.

I watched a butterfly on the lantana and Tabby did the hair of our sweet dog, Princess, while neglecting her own, but hey it was a Saturday afternoon, her Saturday night bath looming.

I need to take a very deep breath, regroup here emotionally, man up, get a grip and get busy.  I have too much to do to be sitting here whining, especially after such a wonderful church service today plus Sunday School.