I try to live a relatively low drama life. Doesn't always work out that way.

So Valentine's Day has been fraught with angst many times over my lifetime. Sometimes it's good, sometimes not. Honestly I wonder if somehow the date is cursed. Wasn't there a huge Valentine's Day Massacre in Chicago perpetrated by the mob 100 years ago? Yeah, 1929, so not quite 100 years. This year we get another massacre. There's a lot going on about that. I'm super proud of the students for speaking out, and have real hope for the first time in a while that perhaps the legislators will make significant changes. Dan Savage had an interesting proposal on his Lovecast podcast this week. Suspend all gun sales for 30 days after a mass shooting. There's more to what he said and I can't articulate it well right now and I've come to talk about a more personal Valentine's Day kerfuffle.

Twitch was born on Valentine's Day in 1991. As much as I love my son and am proud of the man he's become, I did not want to have a baby on Valentine's Day. Wasn't my choice, though, was it.

This year I was chillin' at home, enjoying the peace. I'd made some crispy rice treats for Twitch, planned to deliver them (big double batch) to the restaurant where he works to celebrate his birthday and so he could share the goodies with his coworkers. I also wanted to make nice with the crew at the restaurant. It's my favorite place in town. I've mentioned it before. Beer and brick oven pizza. Yum.

I was waiting for Twitch's shift to start, was going to deliver the goodies around 5. At 4:30 I got a call from, of all places, Turbeville, SC, from the prison where Sproing has been incarcerated. This woman was calling to tell me that Sproing was being released. Today. Right now. Can I come pick him up?

Immediate anxiety "episode". I hesitate to call it an attack, because I can still breathe, my heart rate only elevates a little bit. I dunno. I wasn't comfortable. Shit.

First thing I told her was "Do you know where I live?" I assume she looks at her paperwork there, says Greenwood. Yep. Do you know how far away Greenwood is from Turbeville? No, I can't drive all that way right now. She says we can meet in Columbia, which is a good halfway distance from both locations. Well shit. I do NOT WANT TO DO THIS!

We agreed on a location in Columbia to meet. I got off the phone and pitched a fit. Lots of cussing. Lots of I don't want to do this. But it needs to be done, and I do what needs to be done. Adulting sucks sometimes. So after giving myself a pep-talk I took the treats to Twitch, told him I had to get his brother, and went to get his brother.

I won't bore you with the details. They're tedious anyway. After a few calls back and forth on the cell phone of his driver, we met at the agreed location. It was easy. He got out of the other car, said goodbye, got into my car, and OH SHIT SPROING  IS HERE, GOING HOME WITH ME, SHIT I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS. Breathe. Breathe. I breathed a lot last Wednesday.

This came totally out of the blue. I thought he would be in prison for another year, year and a half. Surprise!

Shit. So he's home. It's gone well so far, but he's still on his best behavior. He needs to get the FUCK out of my house. I keep dropping hints. hee hee.

But I'm not home right now. I'm at the most bestest coffee shop in all of western Pennsylvania. I'm visiting Light in Indiana, PA. Indianapa. She's getting married in less than two months, and I have the sample dress for her to try on. Did I mention I'm making her wedding dress? Well, trying to, anyway. It's light lavender satin with a white lace overlay. I've not sewn these fabrics before. I got a length of satin and some lace with which to practice. I got most of the dress constructed before I left home, but there's a little bit left to do. It's been a royal pain in the ass, especially the lace overlay.

I need to go do other things right now, and I'm pretty sure the time on my parking meter has expired. Perhaps I'll post again soon, maybe with photos of the sample practice dress.

More updates, per request

After reading my last post, the update on my four children, Mark asked about C, the young gay man who lived with us for a while. "A while" turned out to be 12 years, off and on.

Here's some background, for those who may be new or have forgotten the story. I'll try to be brief. In the spring of 2005 C told his mom he was gay. He had previously come out to my daughter Light. They were good friends in high school. C told his mom not to mention it to the stepdad, who's a douche canoe, but she did and stepdad said "not in my house!" So things prevailed and he ended up here.

Up until then Superman and I had been active members of the PCA, a conservative Presbyterian denomination. You know, conservative Christian: anti-gay, anti-abortion, etc. I hadn't personally considered my thoughts on homosexuality in a long time, just went with the flow of what the church taught. But then I met C, and quickly began to question that ideology. I pretty much immediately fell in love with C as a human being. (Not romantic love, none of that foolishness. Good grief, he was 17 years old! And gay!) No, my Mama Bear instincts kicked in. In short, he moved in with us. It was spring of his senior year in high school, he was a few months away from graduating and turning 18 when he was kicked out of his home. What kind of hateful crazy is that?

He had begun a relationship, his first gay love, about that time. So then his boyfriend moved in too. All four of our kids were still here. Light is a year younger than C. It was kinda crazy, especially with Sproing and Diva being batshit emotionally disturbed. I was heavily medicated.

After a couple of years maybe (I didn't keep close track of the timing of these things) C and his boyfriend moved to their own place. Shortly thereafter they broke up. C lived in a couple of other places for another few months, but was not doing well. He was being evicted from an apartment and was hungry. He finally, the prideful fool, called me. Good grief. And I told him to stay in contact, but ... I dunno. He was young and proud and foolish. So yeah, he moved back in.

Moved back in, started another relationship, long distance, with a minor (17 yr old) in North Carolina. Can't remember what nickname I called him. C and I drove my truck up to his home near Charlotte, NC and moved him out of his mom's house on his 18th birthday. Mom was upset, called the cops, but there wasn't anything they could do because he was an adult, legally.

I consulted with one of my blogger buddies with a law background about all of this. He cautioned me to NOT bring the boy home until after he was an adult. Especially crossing state lines, man, I could have gotten in a heap o' trouble.

That relationship was doomed from the start, really. The education/intelligence/maturity difference between the two boys was insurmountable. But C was 18, maybe 19 by then, and knew everything so I let him learn on his own. The two of them lived here for a little while, then moved into another apartment as roommates with another gay couple their age. In true daytime drama fashion, that exploded. C developed a loathing for the NC boyfriend and a huge crush on the younger man of the other couple. By "younger man" I mean he wasn't even 18 yet. And it was an unrequited crush.

C broke up with the NC boyfriend a few days before NC's birthday in October. The kid was crushed. As contentious as the relationship had become I don't understand why he was so surprised. So C moved back here and so did the other young fellow. They were "just friends" according to Young Guy, but C carried a torch, you know? They were here for a lot of months, maybe as long as a year, when Young Guy moved out. I can't remember how things situated with C at that point, but I know he moved out a little while later. Each time he moved out he'd not stay in contact. Pissed me off. And he didn't keep a consistent phone number, not being able to afford to keep the phone on. Typical of independent young people in my experience.

He showed back up on our doorstep, hungry and homeless once again. This was right after Diva moved out for good. I had C physically clean and spiritually cleanse her room. We repainted it for him to move into that room. Such better energy with him there than when she was living in it, OMG! Diva moved out toward the end of the year in 2015, about a month before her 18th birthday. He moved in before Christmas, if I recall. He was here until last spring, I think, so about a year and a half.

Then his mother called. Remember his mom? The one who together with her husband the douche canoe kicked C out a decade ago? Well, her husband decided to divorce her. Why she ever married the fool in the first place I will never know, nor why she stayed with him for so long. OK, I know why she stayed. Because Jesus said so. Which is of course why she kicked C out of the house, too. So now she's getting divorced and moving into her own apartment. She's a registered nurse working in one of the hospitals in the Charleston, SC area. She has never lived alone. She lived with her mom until she married C's dad. They divorced when C was 5 or 6? Maybe 7, I dunno. She then married Douche Canoe almost immediately (that's how the young C remembers it). Now she's middle aged and alone, so she decides that C should come "home" to live with her in Charleston.

He has been working at Captain D's seafood establishment (I hesitate to call it a restaurant, though technically it is, I suppose) since he was in high school, again, off and on. By now of course he's an assistant manager. Or a manager but not the big boss manager. I don't know how these things work. Anyway, he was able to transfer to a store in the Charleston area. He's been living with his mother (OMG how did that happen? What were you thinking?) for going on a year here in the spring. I talk to him occasionally, once every couple of months. He says he and mom are getting along well. They disagree about many things, but respect each other's differences.

They always had a good relationship as C was growing up, right there until the end. They're mother and son, but also good friends. I'm happy for him, He seems to be doing well. He concentrates all his energy on work, hasn't made any friends of his own as far as I can tell. Last time we talked I encouraged him to get out and meet people. Now that he lives in the greater Charleston area there's a better chance of meeting like-minded (gay) people. He'll be 30 years old this June. IMHO he needs to get a life.

I love him dearly, like a son even. I miss him. I'm glad he has a good relationship with his mother and I wish he'd spend more effort maintaining the relationship we have. I should call or text him more often, myself.

And that's the story of C up to this point.