This was morning down the street a couple of days ago. We’re all fine here, by the way, if you’ve been keeping up with news of flood in Colorado. They are north of us in Colorado Springs, Denver, and even further north toward Wyoming. Once again, Pueblo proves to be about as disaster-free a place as you’d want to live in. Apparently, we are a geographical anomaly, which suits me fine.
Oh, hi. Yeah, it’s been a little bit. Mostly I’ve been driving a boy to and from school, to and from football practice, to and from…whatever. Yeah. Pueblo is a small place but we’ve put over 2000 miles on the new car (Yeah, we, er, she got a new car–went to get the mirror fixed on the old one and walked out with a whole new vehicle. It’s great) in less than 2 months. I guess that’s not much when you commute to work, but for two old ladies who don’t work outside the home, it’s a LOT. Plus Denver. VA Denver. We’ve got at least THREE trips to Denver coming up in the next six or so weeks, at about 250 miles a pop round trip, not counting me picking her up at the airport on Tuesday, so add another 1000 miles. So, that’s what I’ve been doing when I’m not having or watching someone else have a meltdown.
Yeah, we’re doing the meltdown thing. I’m not going to go into it because for the first time ever, G read one of my posts and thought I really “cremated” her in it. I’ve never asked her to not read my blog, but she’s often said that she doesn’t or won’t because she knows I’m pretty honest and put a lot out there. I guess she decided to break her own rule. I assured her that nothing I write is ever meant to hurt her, and she should also read the comment section too, because that might make her feel a little better. Anyway, over the last few months, she’s asked me to be honest and when I have, it seems like I’ve really hurt her without meaning to. And by honest, I mean HONEST, not the kind of “honest” that’s like, “It’s not mean if it’s true.” I work really hard not to do that and not to make snap comments off the cuff because I can be the utter queen of sarcasm and I know that sarcasm is not taken lightly. So, there’s this tentativeness I’ve got now around blogging at all. We’ll go forward. I’ll get over/beyond it. The weather has changed recently and my attitude is a lot better. (Yes, Dr. Gignilat, I AM a “climatic determinist.”) That was one of my college history teachers, by the way.
Right now, G is in New York for her sister’s birthday (today–Happy Birthday, Joanne!) and her niece’s wedding (tomorrow). We all needed this trip. Last week, E had F’s in two (not one but TWO) of his classes and I let him play because I didn’t find out until 5 minutes before we were supposed to leave for the game (his one away game). He played really well, too. Scored the only two touchdowns the team has had all season. They still lost, but they scored. It’s a big deal. So we had all the conversations with him, I called teachers, talked to one (message from the other), etc. etc. Today, I was texting with one of the coaches and now he’s got F’s in THREE classes and tomorrow he’s benched. He’s also going to learn that because of this fiasco, he has now “failed” Facebook and if he’s not careful, he will also “fail” any TV too. It’s going to be a fun weekend, let me tell you. Most of tomorrow will be taken up with the game (he has to appear, if not play) and then one of the coaches has a study session scheduled at the library in the afternoon. But Sunday, well, not going to be fun. Too bad. So sad. He has options. He can do what we ask, i.e., go to school, get decent grades, etc. or he can ask his mom to go back to Denver, or we can call Social Services and ask to have him put in foster care. It is entirely up to him. His behavior still isn’t really bad, but there is a sense of entitlement and I know he thinks he can play me…and he can, up to a point. He doesn’t know yet that he’s “failed” the computer, but I just went and changed the passwords, and he doesn’t know mine b/c I have to have it protected for HIPAA compliance. So, even if we weren’t here, he couldn’t get on. The thing that is so aggravating is that he’s too damn smart for this. Just like his mom (tho I will NEVER say that out loud to him). He can do every bit of the work but he wants to do the least amount to get by. I simply don’t get it. I was baffled by it from my daughter and I’m baffled by it from him.
But I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve. I have some activities planned if he gets bored. Of course, there’s always house work. The bathroom really needs cleaning and the rug needs to be vacuumed. And I’m looking for 8th grade appropriate poems and I have a dictionary to go along with that and a few questions, too. Oh, and the trump card? Hey, I’m off four weekdays. I can show up at his school any time I want and accompany him to class. He wants to goof off? He WILL suffer the consequences and nary a harsh word spoken.
So much for that.