Life got away with me.

Sorry for my absence. I have been busy with life.

I have been busy trying to juggle everything going on in my life and have been slacking in many of the fun areas. The Daughter was diagnosed with cancer, major surgery, and most recent scans came back clear. My Baby has been very involved with lacrosse and loving it. He is beyond adorable. The X-Man is trucking along in life like normal. He just earned his red belt in taekwondo two days ago! The red belt has been his goal because red is his favorite color. Hopefully, he will want to move towards working on his black belt. He loves his red belt. My Man is still beautiful. He is the most supportive man. If you see him, buy him a drink, he needs a few.

I am so busy with work, school, internship, and family. Being a mom is hard when going through grad school. I missed when X-Man earned his red belt. I have missed lacrosse games. I have missed games and activities with all the classes and homework I have. I will be done in March (5 months), as long as I pass all my classes along the way. I have had to have special acceptions the last few month with school. I felt a bit like a failure, and I continue to feel guilty, but it is what I need at this time to be successful. The perfectionist in me needs to chill.

I completed a clinical groups class. It has been my favorite class so far. I became close with those in my class. Most of them graduated this week. I was sad that I wasn't going to be done this week. After a few minutes, I was sad because these people who I enjoy would not be in the rest of my classes. Who am I going to make inappropriate comments with? Everyone else will just think I am rude. They won't understand because they weren't in my group class with me. Yes, I know it sounds weird.

I took a trauma (somatic experience) class. One of the exercises was laying on a dog. I do not have one of those. I borrowed a friend's dog. You need good friends who do not question your text asking to lay on their dog. The dog is a large yellow lab. He is a sweet dog. He participated in my exercises of laying on him. He started to enjoy these visits far more than I was comfortable with. This event has been the laughter for the last few weeks. I think I may have needed this mishap to bring some fun to studying trauma.

I have about four papers to write this week, then on to my next set of classes; I will try to check in more often.

Mother of the addict or the worst Christmas ever, however you look at it.

Let's review events from December 2015. The Daughter (16) started acting like she had a demon inside. She was isolating herself, talking rude and sassy, and doing whatever she wanted without asking or informing. My social worker brain believed she was developmentally trying to find her boundaries and personal beliefs. I was being validated by others who had raised daughters stating the same type of issues at age 16. She was hanging out with a new group of friends who were runners, just like her, and encouraged healthy living. She still has straight A's. If you follow my blog, which you should, you know I have concerns regarding The Daughter's mental health. All the issues I am having are not red flags to mental heath decline. I went on addressing the disrespect and boundaries without addressing any other concerns.

Three, almost four, weeks ago, The Daughter's biological father called me asking to meet regarding an issue he had encountered during his weekend visit with The Daughter. We met and boy was I surprised. She had been drinking (yes, alcohol), smoking pot, and sneaking the boyfriend out of his house. Sneaking the boyfriend out of his house! Can I just resign as mother of the year right now? (I am sure I was going to be nominated for that title.) And the lock-down proceedings began. She could have friends over to the house, but couldn't go anywhere but to school then home. She had friends over EVERY single night. A few teenagers can eat more food than a military unit.

Christmas Eve (technically Christmas morning at 2am), in the middle of the night, The Daughter sneaks out of my house into the boyfriend's VW bus. I love my neighbors! One neighbor came out in his underwear and a huge flashlight questioning what was going on. A different neighbor saw her leave and texted my phone. By the time we heard what happened, she was already gone. I text her. I text her again. Finally get a text stating she is having mental health issues and needed her friends. I didn't have an address to go pick her up. After a bunch of chaos, I get a call stating she is so drunk and cannot walk and needs to be picked up. I sent her biological father to get her since I didn't need my boys seeing her drunk. We had Christmas without her.

Christmas night, 15 hours after her last drink, she blows a 0.02. (She could have died.) We admit her into a mental health and substance abuse facility. On Christmas. I was still reeling from my parents not being around any more and now I have to commit my daughter. Worst Christmas ever. The Daughter gets an additional diagnosis to add to her mental health diagnoses, she is an alcohol addict. What? How could she be an addict? I was informed she was having the symptoms of an addict. Did I mention she is 16 years old?

The day after Christmas, I get a call from CPS. The Daughter revealed sexual abuse from a family member who does not live in our state. So not only did I get to talk to Idaho CPS, but CPS from a different state. I am glad she reported the abuse. I am glad she is able to get help. I am not glad she waited  YEARS to report it.

Her biological father met with all the friends and their parents. Everyone is in big trouble. Everything is out in the open. The police has been called and the SRO at the high school is informed. I know if they are going to drink or do drugs, it is going to happen, but hopefully it is harder to do.

The Daughter spent a week in the facility. She is not happy about the restrictions she is under now that she is out. Too bad. She needs to understand she is hurting herself and others around her. She isn't willing to change for herself, but she stated she will change for her brothers. I will take what I can get at this time. She will always struggle with mental health and addiction. The coping skills she is going to need are going to be the only thing that will save her.

I have addicts in my family history, biologically related and not. Addiction is not a family issue I would want anyone to experience. Addiction can destroy, not just the addict, but the surrounding family and friends. I almost lost my one and only daughter on Christmas 2015. We are now working towards healing. I wouldn't have made it through this week without my sister, friends, and My Man. I would have stayed in bed for a week.

Now, can someone take me out for a glass of wine? I cannot have any alcohol in the house for The Daughter's safety and I really need a drink. ;)

Where did I fail?

I am successfully navigating grad school and work and driving X-man to all his therapies and going to Bunco once a month. I am working my butt off to be a successful social worker. I am going above what is asked of me in my classes. I am trying to show my kiddos it can be done and it can be done well. I want them to know I am going to have more opportunities when this is all over and we just need to hang on for this ride. I know I will be able to provide opportunities for my kids with a master's level social work job. I might even be able to provide a few dollars in the savings account instead of living paycheck to paycheck. I might be able to have two kids in taekwondo instead of just one because it is so expensive. I am unable to make my house sparkle. I am unable to attend everything my kids are involved in. I attended one cross-country meet for The Daughter because the rest of the meets were during my classes. I think I am doing a great thing by my family and they appreciate the sacrifices I have had to make to have a better future. Okay, maybe appreciate is more than I expect, let's go with understand.

The Daughter has been mean and condescending towards me for a couple of months. It started when I started school, but I am unaware of why there has been a change. Yes, she is 16 years old and is supposed to be bratty, but this is different. I have tried changing my tone. I have tried lessening her load of responsibilities at home because she has been stressed. I try asking her to do things with me. I sat down with her this morning. I asked her if we could talk about this issue and she said no. I asked her if this is something she is willing to work on, she said she doesn't think so. I asked her is she thought our relationship could be fixed, she said no. No. She said no. I had to leave the room before I started to cry.

I did what I always do when I am emotionally weathered, I started blasting music, loud, angry music. (In my headphones, of course, because the kiddos don't need to hear my angry music. Lots of swear words in angry music.) And I started writing. If someone would pay me to pick the perfect angry music and read my emotional writings, I could be a wealthy woman.

I am now trying to figure out where I failed as a parent. I am not a touchy-feely-huggy person. I am not afraid of confrontation. I parent strangely because I had little to no parental examples. The kids are alive and I can rock finding resources for assisting the kids, but I can't just be a parent. I am unsure how this happened. I am not sure if I am fixable because I am not sure what is broken.

So, now I have a daughter who made it clear this morning that we will not have a relationship. I am hurt, sad, angry, confused... If I had known I was just going to be an egg donor, I would have done this parenting thing less often. I would have chosen not to have any children if I had know this is what was going to happen. (That is the angry side showing) Why wouldn't she even want to try? (hurt is talking now) I am a failure. (sadness has arrived) I don't even know what is going on. (confused)

I guess this is another chapter in my life with a depressingly, degrading title, Where did I fail?

No offense, but...

I started my graduate program last week.  I have been very nervous about starting this program.  I have many obstacles to juggle to succeed.  I have to get up enough nerve to walk into class without second guessing myself.

My Friday night class is advanced field prep.  One of the items we are discussing in this class is vulnerability.  I can say I feel vulnerable going back to school.  I am also going through the graduate program quicker than the foundation program.  The Friday night class is full of students who started the program last year.

We had to introduce our self last week.  After we all had completed our introductions, one lady looked at me and began her statement, "No offense, but..."  If someone starts a statement this way, I am pretty sure I am going to be offended.  "No offense, but we have all been together in this program, and you are not going to fit in.  We are like a family.  It feels weird having you in this class."  Awesome!  Thanks for that statement!  My trust level plummeted after that statement.  I will not be able to trust the people in the class and will make sure to keep my mouth shut at all times.  I have put up my walls, and they are not likely to come down.

I believe it would have been a better idea to state, "We have been in this program together since last year and have become close.  I am excited to know you better."  I am a great person.  I think I am easy to like.  (Some out there will disagree)

I am going to finish my homework for Friday's class today.  I am going to go through the motions of class on Friday with a smile.  I am going to fake it until I make it.

It all started with one little mouse.

I love Mickey Mouse.  He is a mouse who wears clothing and keeps a tidy house.  He is able to hold a relationship with Minnie Mouse.  He takes care of his dog.  He is an ideal mouse to have around.

Lies!  Mickey Mouse is a big LIE!  Mice do not follow in Mickey's example.  They destroy everything they come in contact with.  They chew everything and proceed to poop on everything too.
We noticed evidence of a mouse in our garage a while ago.  We killed the mouse within two days of noticing its presence.  No evidence of said mouse in the house.  We searched and searched and not a single mice turd.  We cleaned out the garage and discovered the mouse most likely arrived with my parents' boxes. So, not only does my dad die, mom have a massive stroke, mom dies, whole world flipped upside-down, but we brought a mouse to our home.

There are some positives to all this.  We disinfected every single item in our garage.  Even if it was way up on a shelf, it was disinfected.  Our garage is almost presentable.  (We still have a small portion to finish.)  We organized our garage.  This is a big deal for me.  I love order.  We listened to music while cleaning.  My Man did a nice little Footloose dance for me.  It was awesome!

We have a little souvenir pencil.  The pencil has been chewed to the lead all around.  It looks as if the mouse chewed it like a corn cob.  It is quite impressive.

The sass is overwhelming.

I get a lot of sass everyday in my life.  It comes from every part of my life.  I am currently all sassed (is that a real word?) out.

I have a teenage daughter who is, normally, a good kid.  She does suffer from being sassy.  She has interrupted me three times since Friday to tell me to stop talking because she already knows what I am going to say.  Really?  You already know what I am going to say before I even say it?  Strange.  When did your clairvoyant gift start?  Have you always had the gift?  Is this a new development? Please enlighten me with your wisdom.  I decided when it happens again, I will stop talking and wait until she was done being a rude little turd and start assigning chores.  Let's see if she knew I was going to say that!

My youngest adores the Daughter, so guess what wonderful habit he picked up from the Daughter? You guessed it!  The sassy, clairvoyant gift! He appears to be more receptive to the chores being assigned.  There may be hope for him, yet!

In my job I have to work with many different professionals.  I, occasionally, encounter other social workers who are very rude and sassy.  I find this to be the most strange regarding sass.  Why are professionals acting like my teenage daughter?  I tried assigning them chores.  It doesn't work as well as I would like.

I have been experiencing a large abundance of sass the last four days.  So glad I have yoga tonight.  I need to release some of this stress before I become cranky.

Why do I feel like the old lady and why should it matter?

I applied for my master's degree in social work earlier this year.  I completed the application process (application, wrote a paper, etc.) and received a call for an interview.  I went to the interview, which consisted of a couple group interviews and a few individual interviews.  During the group interviews, I noticed one other person, besides myself, graduated a couple decades ago with an undergrad.  We had both graduate 16 years ago, actually (not 2 decades, but close), from the same college with the same degree.  It was nice to see an acquaintance and fellow elderly applicant.  She and I had been working in social work since graduating and had a bunch of kids.

I was feeling pretty knowledgeable and was very impressed with myself and fellow old lady.  Slowly, my impressive self started to be less impressive.  A fellow alumni, who I adore and is wonderful, is now the director of the master's program.  Why don't I have a Ph.D?  We graduated with the same undergrad the same year, shouldn't I be just as successful?  I had decided to have a family instead, which is awesome, but I felt a little silly being among all these young whipper-snappers with the same education level as me, but significantly younger than me.  I should have accomplished more in my career.

I noticed the answers the recent undergrads gave were pretty naive, but were similar to the same answers I gave when I was in their shoes.  Due to the experience I have, I know what I enjoy regarding social work and what I do not enjoy.  I do not like working with children and I am terrible at counseling.  I know my strengths and weaknesses.  I felt strong in this part of the interview process.

We had an opportunity to ask questions of the current MSW students.  I was curious about the length of time between their undergrad and starting their graduate degree.  I was also curious if they were completing school while working full-time and raising children.  The longest length of time was five years and she worked full-time but her practicum (internship) was in the same company.  I was starting to feel a bit concerned.   I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

Let's jump ahead to today.  I have already been accepted, I received my financial aid packet.  I am starting to get information.  I received an email stating I need to take a writing lab during the summer for a week.  Something about being old, or under-educated, or really old...   In the email, a statement was made that had me giggling in a nervous/terrified way.  "...send in your senior paper from your undergrad..."  That statement made me feel as if I needed to break out a walker to get around.  Can someone hand me my orthopedic shoes?  First, sixteen years ago, I wrote completely different than I do now.  Secondly, I am pretty sure I do not have my senior paper from 16+ years ago.  Thirdly, did we have to write a senior paper?

I have to learn how to use some sort of program or something regarding school.  Apparently we communicate differently than we did 16 years ago or everything is paperless?  I don't understand, but I will be figuring it out soon!  Were did I put my bifocals?

This is the start to something scary and exciting.  I should make it out alive, I think.