Bad, Bad, Super Bad Day

Yesterday was very bad, not just for me but mostly for people around me.

1.  Went to physical therapy.  PT tells me they will only be open one more week.  It was my third visit.  And it's part of my neurosurgeon's medical group.  No way my doctor didn't know they would be closing.  What a jerk for sending me there instead of somewhere else.  And for telling the PT he would get 80% of his salary on unemployment - not even close.

2.  Went to another PT place I've used before to schedule appointments - they don't do backs.  They recommended another place very close to my home. 

3.  Drove to the place #2 suggested - out of business.

4.  Called neurosurgeon's office to complain, get a PT recommendation (one that is in business and does backs), and ask about the dosage of my sample meds.  The lower dose doesn't work as well but helps some.  The higher dose works miracles but makes me feel stoned and drunk - and I can't work or take care of my little guy.  The nurse called back and said my insurance won't cover it anyway.  What?  She said she would have to call me back later.

5.  I felt a little depressed and went for a walk.  A police guy out of his area did a U-turn and then parked and stared at me and the other guy walking down the road.  After I looped around and came back to the same spot twenty minutes later, the same police car went speeding down the road.  I decided to complain.  Then I saw several more police cars race out of my neighborhood, lights and sirens on.  I noticed my hands and feet swelling - a side effect of the drug - one that probably means it's not the one for me anyway.

6.  When I got home, my ex picked up my kids.  He said, "Did you hear about the shooting?"  No, I did not, but apparently it was within a mile from where I was.  He didn't have much info.  I called my sister.  She had more.  A teenaged girl was shot.  She said to lock my doors - they are still looking for the guy.   I turned on the news - a SWAT team was positioned just up the street from where I was walking.  Lucky for me I wasn't able to walk further or I would have been in the middle of the mess.

7.  Later I found out that my daughter knows the girl - it was her 17th birthday on the day she was murdered.  The girl's ex-boyfriend, the shooter, killed himself too.  He had lunch with my daughter and her friends every day at school and seemed normal enough. 

I didn't have much of a frame of reference with which to discuss the shooting/suicide with my daughter.  So I listened.  I told her I didn't understand.  I painted her room - so I would have the feeling there was something I could have an effect on.  My daughter didn't understand either, but tried to make sense of it based on what she found out on Facebook.  My daughter just turned 15 this week.

I understand how teens can get so depressed they may want to take their own lives if they don't believe they matter, if they don't think anyone cares about them, and if they can't see that it will get better and that life is a series of ups and downs, some minor like my bad day and some major like divorce, death of people you love, and illnesses. 

I can understand depression, but I don't understand the urge to murder someone else.  I just don't.  I do if you're a psychopath, someone on drugs not thinking clearly, or someone that is in a bad situation and feels like they have no choice.  A self-defense scenario I understand, but I don't get it if you're a teenage kid that behaves normally enough to eat lunch with my daughter. 

We do not live in a rough neighborhood - we live in suburbia where kids get what they want for the most part and then some.  The worst thing that has happened up until now is a deadly car crash a few years back on that same street where I walk - and an occasional incident of graffiti at the neighborhood clubhouse. 

There is a lot of social drama at my daughter's school - way too much - more than you would believe.  I hope this settles it down, but I'm not sure it will.  This seems to be a symptom of the social dysfunction at her school.  School starts in about two weeks.  My daughter seems to be doing OK - her friends are an emotional mess, which hurts her a lot. 

It's all so sad and so hard to understand.  Today again I will just listen.

Why Teenagers Can't Wear Boots

This morning, the temperature was something like 17 degrees, 7 if you consider the wind chill, which I do.  My teenager wouldn't put on boots.  She wanted to wear slippers that the kids these days wear as shoes.  Since this is complete craziness when five inches of snow is on the ground and the bus stop is all the way at the end of the road, well out of sight, with not one sidewalk shovelled (we suburbanites are getting lazy lately), I insisted on boots.  She argued and then got upset with me when she was late for school....

She has three pairs of boots to choose from:  her suede two-sizes-too-small boots that she insists still fit her feet, her new suede boots that I spent too much money on and am on the edge of taking from her so my feet can be warm, and new stylish boots her step-mom gave her that she adores, but not enough to put them on the day after a snow storm. 

I am sure this is a battle of wills, a battle of wills that may well go on for the next 3.5 years, until she goes to college and realizes that she will be really cold and sick if she doesn't dress for the weather. 

This is a battle I am not going to back down from.  Nor will she quite likely.  I am stubborn enough to hide her slippers until the spring. I will be up front about hiding her shoes - the problem for her will be that I have an absolutely terrible memory and will never remember where I put them.  So perhaps I should warn her I will hide (and most assuredly accidentally lose) the slippers if she doesn't have the sense to wear boots when there is snow on the ground.  Maybe that will be enough...maybe not.

I realize she shares my independent, strong will and may actually hide her boots if I hide her slippers, leaving her only with gym shoes or flip flops....

Terrible Twos and Teenagers

Like most mothers, I love my kids and would do anything for them.  I think about them all of the time and always consider them when I make decisions.  My world revolves around them.  I have been working from home (sometimes not working at all) for the past four years.  I think it has been great to be there for my kids, but sometimes my teenager probably thinks I am home a little too much.  I agree and wish I could turn my head for a while and not worry.  It is not a great time to raise teenagers - technology is as bad as it is good.

Most mothers have to worry about teenagers or two year olds.  I have both and one in the middle.  The one in the middle is good as gold.  He senses when I am used up and tries to be kind.  Yesterday my teenager was in normal teenage trouble, and today my two year old is making sport of throwing cups (not empty ones) and bananas.  I am excited to say today he can say the word banana clearly for the first time.  At first it was "brrrbrrbrrbrrnana" then recently progressed to "Boo-nana."  Today he said it perfectly for the very first time.  Then he threw it at me.  He has a very good arm.  I am happy it was a banana and not a bowl of cereal or spaghetti. 

Later I checked my teen's grades online (also not my favorite advance in technology since the grades are always there in our faces), decided to ground her, got myself ready for a battle when she got home, emailed her teacher to get clarification, and got poked in the stomach with a piece of plastic my toddler tore off of something.  I put him in a time out, which he refused, then carried him to bed while he fought me every step of the way.  While enduring two-year old screams and trying to come up with a way to make him sit a time out, I got an email from my teenager's teacher that it was his mistake (yeah!).  When I checked on my baby, he was all smiles and apologies. 

Either one of these scenarios would be enough for any one mother.  Both at the same time is a little much.  And the worse part is I know what's coming:  terrible twos last two years minimum, and ten year olds turn into teenagers too quickly.