I stole some pics of the boys from Lilly's MySpace page and posted them on Flickr. God, I MISS these little guys.

Labels: kids, photography

Posted by Laura at 4:35 PM | Permalink | Comments

Ahhhh. The summer, she is finally over. It was in the 70's and 80's all weekend long, and this morning it's 60 degrees. We rode around on Calvin's motorcycle Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I can't on the offhand recall where we went on Friday, but Saturday we went to Mill Avenue for the MOST AWESOME-EST cheeseburgers EVAR, and on Sunday we went for a ride through the foothills before hitting Rock Bottom for a couple of beers and appetizers.

Zoe and Oz are driving me BATSHIT this morning. They want to be together, but they don't. I have this (marvellous) routine in the morning where I lock Zoe in the weight room so she can eat and poo in peace without Oz all, "Whatcha doin? Are you my friend yet?" I feed Oz, per usual, in his dish in the "cat closet". He eats three bites (if that), then hightails it (heh) back to the weight room door to talk to Zoe under the crack, rattle the handle (like I said, I have to LOCK the door so he doesn't open it), come in my room where I am steadfastly working (or, you know, writing an entry), fuss at me to LEEEEEET him IIIIINNNNN, then when I finally open the door so she can come out/he can go in, instead of acting like long-separated lovers they FIT at each other for the rest of the day. Oz just follows Zoe around from hiding place to hiding place. Occasionally they can stand to be in the same space (sitting in front of the screen door, hanging out on/in the bathtub) for about five minutes, then suddenly Zoe will look at Oz like he's grown horns and gets all, "WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!?" And she fits, and hisses, and growls, and Oz is all, "Geez, woman, PMS is a bitch, innit?"

Plus, you know how Marie is moving back in? Well, so is her dog. In the past two weeks we added another cat AND another dog as permanent additions to the household. Current count for those of you playing at home is two cats, three dogs, two bearded dragons, and a snake. All of whom I get to take care of. I am not kidding, nor am I exaggerating, when I say that I spend a total of probably two hours a day, split between morning and evening, taking care of the animals. AND it seems I will have to take Cheeto to the vet, as the poor dear is constipated. We can't have a constipated lizard on our hands, now can we?

Yeesh. At this point I am SO qualified to be a vet.

Anyway. Last week's drama is calming down a bit, but I still have anxiety up the wazoo. Marie was having troubles with her ex-boyfriend that resulted in us having to ride to her rescue in the middle of a work day. She'd moved all of his belongings - i.e. all of the furniture (she is apparently a strong black woman trapped in that teeny white girl's body) - out onto the patio of her apartment. Ex-BF was blowing up her phone with threats and angst, she called us. We showed up, then HE showed up with his brother to get his stuff. Argument ensued during which he and his brother got all up in Calvin's face.

Ahem.

SO! Calvin deterred that shit right there, then phoned the police. Who very promptly showed up to supervise the removal of the furniture and belay comments thrown from the Ex-BF in Marie's general direction. In the meantime the Ex-BF's mom showed up, and we got to witness first hand where her son got his charming personality. They left, the police left, we left, then went down to the court house to get proceedings started on a restraining order.

So, that was fun.

AAAAAANNNNNNNND then I discovered fraudulent charges against my checking account. It seems that Calvin's debit card number has been compromised. So I got to deal with that last week. On top of the refrigerator dying, buying a new refrigerator, waiting around for said refrigerator to be delivered, spending $300 on groceries to replace those lost, dealing with Marie's ex-BF, dealing with New Pet Issues, and everything else that normal life dishes up when one has a full time job and a more-than-full-time life.

Current tally: angsty shit - 10, Laura's ability to cope - 0.

BUT! Calvin and I are going to see Jersey Boys again tomorrow with Calvin's sister and her husband. I am looking forward to that like nobody's business - probably even more than I was looking forward to seeing it the first time, and despite the fact that I have had "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" firmly entrenched in my brain for, like, ever.

(baaa DA baaa DA baaa da DA da da...) "I love you baby..."

Labels: headspace, home, journal, kids, motorcycle, pets

Posted by Laura at 8:46 AM | Permalink | Comments

Once again waiting related to a fridge. This time, it's the new one that's supposed to be delivered SOMETIME today. I spent an hour throwing away a metric ton of spoiled food and cleaning behind/under the old refrigerator. Whatever the ook was that was back there is cancer-causing, I'm positive.

Right now I am putting together a grocery list of epic proportions. In keeping with my plan to create moments of happiness for myself, I have decided to kick my cooking hobby back into gear and make two new dinner recipes and one new dessert recipe per week. This week, well, I'm going overboard. Beef stroganoff is lined up for tonight, stuffed peppers on Saturday, Jamblaya on Sunday, and Enchilada Chowder next Thursday (standbys of burgers, tuna noodles, spaghetti, and the best meatloaf in the world fill out the rest of the days in the week, if you're curious). Plus I'm planning on making my grandmother's apple cake and her pumpkin bread this weekend.

My diet is taking a firm back seat to my happiness at the moment.

I don't remember if I mentioned it or not, but Calvin and I went to see Jersey Boys last Saturday at Gammage Auditorium. The show was ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. Even Calvin loved it, and he's not a musical kind of guy. If you don't know much about them, check this out (be patient through the Sopranos tribute stuff). This was their performance at the Emmy's this year, and WAY doesn't do justice to the entire production:



This was the performance that prompted Calvin to suggest that we get tickets when they were in town (quoth I, "You do realize that this is a musical? Where people randomly dance about and burst into song?"). Which they are now. We might even go again, it was THAT good. Plus, of course, we went out on Calvin's birthday and bought a couple of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons CD's. "Walk Like a Man", "Can't Take My Eyes Off You", "December 1963", "Grease", "Who Loves You", and "My Eyes Adored You" have been on constant spin around here.

Loved the show. LOVED. IT. Go see it so we can still be friends.

You know? There's a CRAPTASTIC load of drama going on around here, but now that I've gotten to this point in the entry, I am in no mood to write about it right now. So you'll have to wait in barely restrained anticipation until I work up the gumption to put all the crap into some semblance of cohesion.

Labels: best things, food, headspace, home, journal, kids

Posted by Laura at 12:36 PM | Permalink | Comments

Actually, I'm waiting for the refrigerator repair guy. Our fridge - just seven years old and WHAT happened to the kind of appliances that lasted, like, 25 years and your parents only replaced because the 70's motif of olive drab and orange didn't match the decor anymore??? Anyway, our fridge is on the fritz - refrigerated part not cold enough, freezer part not freezing. I had to throw a ton of stuff out yesterday, which was annoying. Most of it was frozen veggies, though, so cheap and easily replaceable. We've already had to replace the washer and dryer (14 years old) and dish washer (7 years old) this year. A new fridge is NOT on our list of money spending priorities at the moment.

I am starting to feel discouraged, like we're making no forward progress in our current lives. Marie has decided she needs to move back in with us (we'll have to pay the EXORBITANT fees for breaking the lease on her apartment, which Marie is going to pay back to us in installments), and Michael never moved out, so we're back to (or will be soon back to) having a full house. Which is fine, really - we all get along quite well. There will be household citizenship RULES, however. Not the least of which is that Calvin and I should never have to wash a single dish or take out a single bag of trash for as long as the kids are living with us. And this coming and going at 2:00 in the morning nonsense will be NO MORE.

Aaaand the fridge repair guy just left. The compressor is shot. We have to buy a new fridge. Fuck a duck. Another $1500 (at least) out the door.

Does it ever end?

Labels: home, journal, kids, wtf

Posted by Laura at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

First, let me (and Jen, nyah) say, THANK GOD.

Second, Calvin and Marie and I went to Kona Grill last night in celebration of Marie's birthday. Much food was eaten, and a good time was had by all. (I was going to write this entry yesterday but I promised Marie I would leave her "Happy Birthday" message up as the uppermost entry for the WHOLE DAY in her honor.)

Third, I got four inches cut off the length of my hair last Friday, and as a result I have the Best Hair In All The World.

Fourth, today is National Talk Like a Pirate day. Avast!

And now, the weekend.

So, Friday Lucy was tearing around her tank like a crazy person lizard, running back and forth and scrabbling up on the sides and digging digging digging. So I took her out of her tank and into the living room, where I set her on the floor so she could run around. The cat was fascinated, and she kept running at him to check him out, at which point he would squint at her and flinch like he expected her to spit in his face or something, and then run off to the nearest hiding spot. Calvin and I were mightily amused by this.

Then suddenly Lucy squatted as if she was going to take a poo on the rug. Calvin warned me and I scooted her off the rug and onto the tile, the easier to clean up the impending mess. Except that instead of poo, out plooped... an egg!

We must have stared at it for a full minute before I exclaimed, "Hey! It's an egg!" Commence with the scrambling around as Calvin went off to Home Depot to secure some soil (for a laying box) while I called Pets Inc. to see if they knew where to purchase an incubator in a hurry. Calvin came back and we used a giant Rubbermaid storage container to put the soil in. I moistened it and packed it down so Lucy could dig a little cave to lay in. We put Lucy in and put a couple of screens over the top and rested a heat lamp on the screens. We watched expectantly.

She stared back up at us.

We stared back down at her.

She just sat there and didn't seem interested in digging a nest. So I dug what is called a "starter hole" to see if that would get her instincts to kick in. Nuthin. She totally had no idea what to do. She layed a half-dozen eggs (non-viable, which is common for a first clutch) on the surface, then spent a lot of time scrabbling up the sides of the box trying to get out.

Throughout the entire weekend she would lay an egg here, an egg there, an egg in the tub when I soaked her, an egg in her and Cheeto's tank after I put her back in it because I thought she was finally done with all of this nonsense (we have since separated them into their own individual tanks)... here it is Wednesday and I'm not entirely sure that she's done with the egg laying yet.

So! That was fun.

Friday night Calvin and I met a friend up at Iguana Mack's for some beer (and some more beer) and conversation. The weather, at least at night, is finally to the point where riding places on the motorcycle is comfortable again. I'm back to being a lightweight because I haven't been drinking very much at all, really, since we came back from the beer festival. So I got loopy and silly, as is my nature, and suffered a mild hangover the next morning. Phooey.

Saturday morning we watched "Invincible" on TV, and I drooled over Mark Wahlberg.

(pic courtesy of mark-wahlberg.org)
Being in a football frame of mind, Calvin secured tickets to the Arizona State/San Diego State college football game at Sun Devil Stadium. We left a couple of hours early in order to putter around Mill Avenue and the college district before the game. We ended up at House of Tricks (I once wrote an entry about it here). We sat at the bar and ordered drinks (whiskey and beer for Calvin, iced tea for me... stoopid hangover) and an appetizer, and just sat conversing and laughing and enjoying the cool-ish weather. We brought the camera with us and Calvin shot a few pics, then a nice man from across the bar came over and offered to take a picture of us together.









We left Tricks about a half-hour before the game started, and walked and walked and WALKED because we parked closer to the stadium than to the action-side of Mill. Now, I LOVE Sun Devil Stadium. I love the crowd, I love the college students, I love the atmosphere. I love the tributes to Pat Tillman, whom I was fortunate enough to see play when he was an ASU Sun Devil AND when he was a Cardinal.

I think I like being at a college game better than being at a pro game. There just seems to be more energy - the chants, the band playing, the students bouncing a blow-up doll among the crowd:



Some more pics:












The Devils beat up San Diego with a final score of 34-13. We left at halftime, though, to go back down to Mill (walky walky walky) and hang out at a bar for an hour or so. We watched the culmination of the game from a place called Coconuts.

We rode home. We wrestled. We went to sleep.

The phone rang at 2:00 in the morning. Calvin rolled over and grunted into the receiver - it was Marie's boyfriend saying they had a fight and Marie said she was going to our house, and was Marie there? Calvin got up and checked... no Marie. The boyfriend was informed, we knew Marie would head to a friend's house first, and we went back to sleep.

The phone rang at 3:00 in the morning. Calvin rolled over and grunted into the receiver - it was Marie asking if we had called her. Calvin said no. Marie said she'd gotten a call from our home number. Calvin said it wasn't us. He got up and checked the house to see if maybe it had been Michael who had called. Michael was at his girlfriends. We deduced that Marie's boyfriend called from our house to see if he could get Marie to pick up, having let himself in.

That caused some consternation. Not a lot, because we know this kid and know he wouldn't do anything wrong or rash or mean. But still. We shared an "Oh no he DI-INT" moment with Marie, and went back to sleep.

(Later) Sunday morning we woke up and discovered Marie asleep on the couch. The rest of the day was spent talking with her, talking with Marie's boyfriend when he showed up, watching TV, and napping. Currently, the boyfriend has moved out of Marie's apartment, and Michael is considering moving in with her.

(Snoopy dance!)

So! That was the drama of last weekend. This weekend is shaping up to deliver some NICE weather (supposed to be 88 on Saturday), so I'll probably have more pics to share of whatever trouble Calvin and I can find to get ourselves into.

Labels: booze, journal, kids, lizards, photography

Posted by Laura at 8:26 AM | Permalink | Comments

Happy nineteenth birthday, Marie!!!



Venus, if you will
Please send a little girl for me to thrill
A girl who wants my kisses and my arms
A girl with all the charms of you

Venus, make her fair
A lovely girl with sunlight in her hair
And take the brightest stars up in the skies
And place them in her eyes for me

Venus, goddess of love that you are
Surely the things I ask
Can't be too great a task

Venus, if you do
I promise that I always will be true
I'll give her all the love I have to give
As long as we both shall live

Venus, goddess of love that you are
Surely the things I ask
Can't be too great a task

Venus if you do
I promise that I always will be true
I'll give her all the love I have to give
As long as we both shall live

Hey, Venus
Oh, Venus
Make my wish come true

Labels: kids

Posted by Laura at 8:38 AM | Permalink | Comments

Yesterday I dropped Calvin off at the airport, went to Trader Joe's and stocked up on salads for my lunches and dinners for this week (I do NOT cook for myself if I don't have to - this behavior hearkens back to when I was single and eating plates of asparagus for dinner), got home, folded/hung up/otherwise put away five loads of clean laundry, got the call from the company in Maine for me to fly out and interview with them next week, freaked out a little bit, did some work-work, washed and dried the sheets and put them back on the bed, talked to Calvin when he landed in Texas, did some more work-work, dusted and de-cluttered the bedroom, talked to Calvin as he was driving from the airport to his hotel, cleaned the kitchen for an HOUR (even though that is MICHAEL'S JOB but I was sick of seeing the mess after three days of not getting done and apparently the "talk" that Calvin had with him last week did LOADS of good), talked to Calvin when he got to his hotel room, worked out, fed the dogs, fed the cat, fed the lizards, fed myself, talked to Calvin while he was at a restaurant eating his dinner, read off and on, got the coffee ready for the morning, packed my lunch for the next day, read some more, talked to Calvin before he went to bed, then went to bed myself at about 9:30.

When Calvin is away I tend to keep myself busy. Tonight I plan on giving the dogs a bath, moving Lucy to her own tank because Cheeto keeps picking on her, watching the next disc in season two of Battlestar Galactica, and probably reading some more.

As of yesterday, Marie is officially moved out. I say officially, even though she's been pretty much living with her boyfriend for a couple of months, because she removed all of her clothing, her stereo, and her snake. She and her boyfriend are sharing a house with another friend of theirs (they were staying at his mom's house before), about two minutes away from our house. She doesn't want me to come over and see their place until "everything is put away and set up and CLEAN". Heh. They went shopping for towels and linens and bedding yesterday. Heh again. I remember when that kind of stuff used to be sooooo coooool. Playing house is fun, in the beginning.

I haven't seen much of Michael since he got his motorcycle back up and running on Sunday night. I'm kind of annoyed at him right now, for the whole not-doing-the-kitchen thing, among other things. Calvin's talking-to should have had him stepping up and doing his chores and LOOKING for other things to do around the house, just to please us. I also researched and printed up a LOOOONG list of potential jobs that he could be applying to, since he doesn't make enough at his current job to enable him to move out, and he didn't seem inclined to do the research himself. To my knowledge, he hasn't followed up on any of those. Calvin told Michael that he had to be out by August 31st, and that we needed to see a plan from him on how he's going to be out by then. So far, not a peep of what he's done or what he's doing or what he's going to do. When he is around, he's either asleep or upstairs with his girlfriend. When he isn't around, he's either at work or hanging out elsewhere with his girlfriend.

So, I am frustrated. It got to the point a long time ago where I am just as civil to him as the situation warrants, but I don't go out of my way to talk or be nice or much of anything. My shoulders creep up to my ears and my neck ceases up when I hear him come home, and I pretty much just want to close myself in my bedroom and avoid dealing with him altogether. I feel guilty for feeling this way, until I remind myself that his behavior has eroded away my good regard of him until there is not much left but this feeling I have right now.

Michael is the type of person where you can have a "talk" with him, and even yell at him, and even maybe have an argument, and the next day (sometimes that very same day) he will expect everything to be just dandy. As if to say, "What, you're still mad at me? But that was yesterday." He's been eroding away my good regard for a long time, so it's going to take the same amount of time on good behavior to get my good regard back. I don't think he understands this.

And according to my estimation, "good behavior" hasn't even started yet. The issues I've mentioned here are not an all-inclusive list, to be sure.

I haven't been writing about this because I don't want him to read it and get his feelings hurt. But dammit, MY feelings are hurt - have been GETTING hurt for months now - and this is my journal, and I'm not saying anything OF him that hasn't been said TO him, so here I am.

I feel a little bit better now.

Labels: blogthings, Calvin, headspace, journal, kids, misc

Posted by Laura at 1:57 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'll do the entry on the last few days of our vacation soon, but there are other things on my mind that are interrupting my thought processes.

I'm feeling pretty discouraged today. The most minor contributor to that is that my back is out, again. I turned wrong and dared to *breathe* at the same time, and out it went. The pain radiates from underneath my left shoulder blade up my shoulder and neck. It's nearly impossible to sit or lay comfortably. I drove Calvin crazy last night with all of my tossing and turning.

Stress is what causes this particular issue. It flares up a few times a year - I just got over one bout of it before we went on vacation, and hark! Here it is again. I don't know why but I carry all of my stress in this one area of my body. I'll have to find another cranio sacral therapist, since mine is only in Arizona a couple of days a month.

Of more concern is Calvin's youngest sister and a bunch of negativity she is going through right now. I don't want to disregard her privacy by writing about it all here, but suffice to say we're worried about her and her family. She was in a car accident on Friday and while she and her son (who was with her) are okay, it's just a culmination of a long history of negativity, bad luck, bad choices, and issues in general.

Finally there is Michael. On Saturday night he wrecked the motorcycle with him and his girlfriend on it. They're both okay - major road rash for him, more minor for her. Cosmetic damage for the most part to the bike; it looks like they just layed it over on its right side and skid along for a while. It's the damage to their helmets that gave us the most pause - scrapes and dents that would have represented major damage to their heads, had they not been wearing their helmets.

As I said to Calvin yesterday: "Of all the lessons that we've tried to teach Michael that he's disregarded, I just thank God that wearing his helmet was the one lesson he chose to listen to us about."

Calvin and I talked about getting a storage unit this morning, so we can start off-loading our clutter and neatening things up around the house to prepare it for sale. We need to feel like we're moving forward with our goals, if only in the smallest degrees. Some day we will look up after all of these baby steps and find the culmination of our goals staring us in the face.

It can't come too soon for me. Cross your fingers, I have a phone interview with a company in Maine on Friday morning. I'm not really expecting anything to come of it, but it heartened me that someone had an interest in my resume!

Labels: headspace, journal, kids

Posted by Laura at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments

FINALLY! We have new pics of the boys, the first ones really since they left back in November. I feel like bawling. They've grown so much. We've missed SO. MUCH. Who knows when we'll see them next, and right now none of the boys will even remember us.

I'm glad to have the pictures, but they just aren't enough.













Posted on Flickr as well.

Labels: kids

Posted by Laura at 10:08 PM | Permalink | Comments

My day is NOT starting off well. I slept like crap last night because my back is killing me, and when the alarm went off the first thought that entered my mind was, "Oh, this is bullshit." So I got up to get situated on the couch with my laptop, and when I went to look for the ice pack in the freezer to help alleviate my back pain, it was gone. Which doesn't surprise me, since lately it seems like every time I go to look for something to end some sort of misery I'm in, it's been taken. Last week it was my allergy medication, a couple of weeks ago it was cookies, this morning it's the ice pack.

I really, REALLY can't wait until the occupancy of this household is decreased. It is one child in particular that is ALWAYS taking things, and I'm really sick of it. That's all I'm saying.

Every morning my boss meets with the folks from manufacturing and then sends an e-mail to the folks in my group with all of the help needed for the day. Invariably my name is always all over the thing. Because I'm special that way. Well, he did say during my review that he wants me to become the "go-to" person. Guess he got his wish... not exactly mine, though. There's nothing like a half-dozen or more "gotta have it NOW" things shot at you first thing in the morning to get your day started off right!

Then Calvin just called me, and the guy that was responsible for hiring him into his company just resigned. It doesn't mean that much will change for Calvin's job, but this was one of the "good guys" and things will just be a little more of the suck now that he's leaving. Which got us talking along the lines of what we want to do and how we want to make our lives happier, which THEN got us down the conversational thread of how much we don't like what we're doing with our lives right now.

AND the cat is about to get murdered because he's just PISSING ME OFF. If I don't feed him as soon as my feet hit the floor when I get up in the morning, he starts looking for things to that will get him in trouble. His hope is that since I'm up to chase him away from whatever badness he's doing (because yelling at him SO doesn't work), I'll just go ahead and feed him since I'm up already. And the fucker is right. I've had to yell at him (again, ineffectually) for jumping up at the water dragon, trying to paw a soda can down off of the half-wall, messing with the wiring behind the TV, scuffling around under the couch, and jumping up on the kitchen counter. The little asshole.

I've got an MRI scheduled for 11:30, then a girly-doctor appointment for 3:30. Since going to the doctors has now become my least favorite thing to do, this double-appointment day is not helping things.

Feh. It's just going to be a bad day. At 9:30, I can just tell.

Labels: Calvin, headspace, health, journal, kids, pets, work

Posted by Laura at 8:42 AM | Permalink | Comments

I was browsing through my archives the other day, reading back through my history as a stepmother. It's been a while since I updated in any step-parenty sort of way. That would be because my feelings toward them alternate between tearing frustration and amused tolerance, and I usually experience several swipes of the pendulum daily.

I know it's a huge failing of parenthood to assume that "doing it MY way" is the only way "it" is done. With that said, I do believe that Calvin and I are pretty good parents, and pretty good human beings in general. We have our heads mostly screwed on straight, and in the areas where they are not screwed on straight, we can be termed "eccentric" or "progressive". "Fabulous", even.

So. When we explain, and re-explain, and re-RE-explain, how to do things thus and how to address things such and how to prioritize things so, it is because we have indeed been there, and have actually done that, and presently enjoy the sort of mostly-successful and responsible lifestyle that comes with not making too many fucked up decisions. And so we try to impart this hard-won wisdom onto our innocent, fragile, dumbass somewhat naive children.

Who think they know everything already, and the speed at which the words, "I knooo-oowww" depart in their singsongy way from the fucking sarcastic lilting throats of our beloved children, well, it is something to behold. One is truly left thinking that they do indeed know, and how very presumptuous of us to even try to instruct such genius when, clearly, they have it all figured out.

Really, we should be learning from them.

Many of my current complaints have occupied a comfortable spot in my determination for many years now. For example, any occasion that the kitchen gets cleaned at all by either child constitutes a minor miracle, much punctuated by martyr-ish sighs and slamming cupboard doors. The next child that puts a dirty dish into the cupboard will be WEARING that dirty dish. This is not a difficult lesson to learn. One would think that a single gentle reminder of, "Darling child, please do not put a dish away in the cupboard that is still encrusted with the remnants of a meal," would suffice. Common sense, at the very least, would dictate that the putting away of a dirty dish is probably not the most intelligent thing to do. And yet, Calvin and I persevere, selecting one dish after another from out of the cupboard, and having to discard it in the sink in our search for a dish that is actually clean. We even understand that the dishwasher is on its last legs, but that does not entitle the Cleaner of the Kitchen to pretend that they "didn't notice" that the dish was dirty when they put it away.

(Even now, Marie is reading this and yelling, "I don't do that, Michael does!!!")

The speed at which both children will throw the other under the bus during an argument or discussion is astonishing. If we start to get on Marie about needing to follow through with some plans for her life, she immediately throws Michael's current circumstances into the conversation. If we remind Michael for the millionth time to take care of his chores, he immediately brings up Marie's lack of discipline in that area. If either one senses that they are about to be brought under a negative spotlight, they bring up the other's flaws immediately in an attempt to deflect the negativity onto their beloved sibling.

(Even now, Michael is reading this and yelling, "I don't do that, Marie does!")

Some somewhat newer complaints:

One of the conditions set upon both children of continuing to live in our household "rent free" after high school/military, was the requirement that said child be enrolled in college. Not even full time - part time will suffice. Marie started, and then dropped out because physically going to class on-campus was too much of a pain in the ass. So we told her as of the first semester of '07 she was to be signed up in on-line classes at the very least. Today's date is February 20th. She is not enrolled. Michael, too, expressed the desire to go to school after the military. He went through some machinations in order to claim the GI bill to pay for college. He's been out of the military since last July. No progress there.

If I hear either one of the kids ever mention again EVER that they work harder than either Calvin or myself, they may not live to see the day when they do, indeed, work harder than either Calvin or myself.

If Michael smokes inside the house one more time, and pretends not to understand how we could possibly accuse him of such a sin when obviously he is SUCH a model child, he will discover what it feels like to smoke out of his ass.

If both kids don't figure out how to start supporting themselves, hold down decent-paying jobs, and pay their bills, it is clear that the only choice Calvin and I will have is to sell the house out from under them, move to a different state, and not leave a forwarding address. I mean, as things stand today there will be no way possible for either kid to be on their own in the near future. They seem to think that holding status quo (living at home, minimum wage job) is fine and dandy, and what the hell are we complaining about? Plans? They don't need no stinking plans.

Except that it's high time that Michael be on his own, and Marie isn't far behind him. One doesn't just fall out of the front door of their parents' house and fall right into success. Neither of them are poised to hit the ground running.

Of course, it's not like we want to get rid of them or anything. Everyone who knows me and who reads this website is clear about the fact that Calvin and I adore the kids. They'd have to annoy us a whole hell of a lot more to make us love them any less, if that's even possible. But, damn, people. I'm no saint, and I've gotta blow off some steam, here. If we could just see a little progress made, by either kid, there'd be a whole lot less frustration.

To throw some leaven in this lump (because I can't dish out a whole lot of bad without throwing in at least a little good), I will say this:

Marie has been very responsible about her employment, and as far as I know is never late to work and never blows off her shift. She mentioned this morning that she might be laid off, and if that is the case I'm sure it's not because of anything she did.

Michael has been steady in his job lately as well (after a rough start and several mornings of being late). If he's overwhelmed by bill collectors and impending divorce, he is at least trying to keep a good attitude about things.

Both kids come and go as they please, all hours of the day and night. But they try to be quiet if they're up when we're in bed, the house isn't destroyed in the morning when we get up, and they keep the traffic of friends coming and going to a minimum.

Finally, neither of them is an addict or has been arrested. And really, at the end of the day, what more can you ask for?

Labels: journal, kids

Posted by Laura at 1:44 PM | Permalink | Comments