I have very much appreciated the sweet assumptions that I'm a great and wonderful mother lately. On my best day I'm not sure how true that is. These are not my best days.
Most of my blog has a glaring void. You do not find much of my son on these pages. Part of that comes from the fact that toddlers and babies are just naturally easier to write about without worrying if they'd like it or not. Funny thing is, Tom is my only family member who knows about this blog. Of my almost tens of followers, I know two in real life but see one hardly ever and the other never since his beloved wife, Carol, died. (I've been thinking a lot about that post of hers, it's worth reading again and again.) So, Tom knows firsthand all about Corey; my "real" life followers, not so much. And Corey may realize that I have a blog, but he's never read it that I know. Still, I don't write a lot about him because it's hard stuff. It's painful. There are no cute, tidy little endings. And it's embarrassing, frankly, the stuff we go through with Corey.
Before we moved, we were on a first name basis with a couple of compassionate police officers in town. One of them would actually volunteer to take a call when my son's name was mentioned. We haven't had that type of trouble since moving, but when we have trouble, we still have it with a capitol T. It has been just over a year since we had problems like this, and it has been a mostly decent year. Granted, my version of decent where Corey's involved would probably not quite be acceptable for a lot of parents. But from where we were, it's been mostly decent.
Although everything feels so sudden, now that I've had a day to reflect, I can see it's been coming for about a month, maybe six weeks. Last night's blow up left Madelyn and Maisy shaken (yeah, me, too), a planter in shambles and our outdoor Christmas lights pulled down.
My son no longer lives with me. Despite it all, my heart is broken. I cannot help it. Of course, it would be bad at any time, but it's Christmas. I walk by a table and see the Santa puzzle that I bought for Corey when he was four or five, and the Santa calendar that I bought because of him. We're supposed to get our tree this weekend and I wonder how I do that without him. What will it be like to put up the decorations without him?
I worry about whether the right decision has been made. Ultimately, Corey made the decision because he knows very well what the boundaries are. I am a spell it out kind of mom, especially with the big stuff. Tom has been supportive, but I know he has to hold back. Corey's not his kid. I would be very sensitive to him trying to push Corey out. Aside from occasionally agreeing that life was going to be a lot easier once Corey was an adult and moved out, he does not say or do anything to push. Honestly, if the roles were reversed, I cannot say I'd be the same way. My mother has also been supportive. Okay, so she won't be winning any mother of the year awards her own self, but she has always viewed Corey as her way of making up for mistakes she made with my brother. If Mom ever felt I was expecting too much or not handling things the way I could, she has let me know. Mostly by relating a story of how she wished she'd done something different regarding my brother. But she's said several times that I'm doing the right thing. Mom and Tom are the only ones who know besides the collective "you." I worry about being surrounded by people who will wrongly try to support this if I've overreacted. What if I'm being unfair? Expecting too much? What if years of my sucky mothering has led to this?
*sigh* I know. Counseling. Clear expectations. Behavioral therapy; token reward system; exclusively positive reward system; be a freaking comedian at the end of a good day system. Special education services. Extremely focused special ed services. Independent study. Medication. Chiropractic care. Horse therapy (okay, that went horribly awry when the owner of "his" horse moved away suddenly without telling us). Going back to a comprehensive education program. What didn't we try? Biofeedback. Why not? By the time I knew enough about it, he'd been on medication too long for it to be effective.
So where is he now? Currently he is at my mothers. His stay there has to be very limited. I have given her information on Job Corps. and I know he called, but has to wait for someone to contact him. I don't know what will happen if he does not get in. He cannot come home right now. Staying out late or all night, giving me an attitude and being lazy with his chores is one frustrating thing. Scaring his little sister and destroying our property is another. Honestly, I could let the property thing go again if it weren't for Madelyn. I grew up in a home with violence and screaming. My kids shouldn't have to go through that. Heck, I shouldn't either, but it's different somehow when it's your kid instead of your parents.
I did speak with him today. I told him I love him. I am always his mother. If there is something he needs to get in to Job Corps., I will be there to provide it. Once there, he can come home for holidays and special occasions I am here if he wants to talk. I'm so far from being ready to cut him out completely. I just need to have a safe home. As ever, Corey is stunned by his own behavior. Sad. Apologetic. Probably devastated to know he upset Madelyn. Since she was born he has prided himself on being a very good big brother. It's one thing I can always say when people ask about him. He is an excellent big brother.
I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.
I am worried. And sad. And angry. And so not a wonderful mother.
Showing posts with label son. Show all posts
Showing posts with label son. Show all posts
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
A Gift and a Miracle in the Windy City
A few months ago Nancy offered me some lenses from Ken's old camera. She brought them to work and I took them home to check 'em out. Telephoto lens, a red one for sunsets, a brown one for light filtration. Awesome! Did they fit? Not even close.
Corey saw them and fell in love, but he doesn't own a camera. I returned the lenses. Corey called a company about cashing in a gift card he'd gotten, but never used. The money would take up to three weeks to arrive. He called Nance and left a message asking if he could buy the camera and lenses. He named a price range, hung up and waited for a call.
Turned out Nance had already donated the camera and accessories to a mission. Her son works there, though, so she secretly put him on the lookout. It took him two weeks to find everything. She gifted it to Corey at one of our parties, with a small speech about how Ken would have loved for him to have the camera. Oh, and "don't take it apart." (Woman knows my son.)
Corey's camera love only grows stronger. We have acquired a copy of the manual, a non-mercury battery to make the cool extra functions work and film. When I mentioned to Nance that Corey knows everything about his "1964 Pentax Honeywell 500," tears welled up in her eyes.
"That's right. Ken bought it in 1964 when he was 16." She's delighted to know that he appreciates something that Ken loved.
I am in awe of my son blossoming because of a piece of equipment.
Tom's recently married brother is a photojournalist. Corey was excited to show him the goods.
Corey saw them and fell in love, but he doesn't own a camera. I returned the lenses. Corey called a company about cashing in a gift card he'd gotten, but never used. The money would take up to three weeks to arrive. He called Nance and left a message asking if he could buy the camera and lenses. He named a price range, hung up and waited for a call.
Turned out Nance had already donated the camera and accessories to a mission. Her son works there, though, so she secretly put him on the lookout. It took him two weeks to find everything. She gifted it to Corey at one of our parties, with a small speech about how Ken would have loved for him to have the camera. Oh, and "don't take it apart." (Woman knows my son.)
Corey's camera love only grows stronger. We have acquired a copy of the manual, a non-mercury battery to make the cool extra functions work and film. When I mentioned to Nance that Corey knows everything about his "1964 Pentax Honeywell 500," tears welled up in her eyes.
"That's right. Ken bought it in 1964 when he was 16." She's delighted to know that he appreciates something that Ken loved.
I am in awe of my son blossoming because of a piece of equipment.
Tom's recently married brother is a photojournalist. Corey was excited to show him the goods.
He made sure to buy plenty of film for the wedding. Joining him on the top tier are Tom's other brother, Matt and Chris' friend, Matt (also a photojournalist), who was the wedding photographer. (Aside from Brother Matt's pocket camera, I'm pretty sure our Nikon D60 was the smallest... and least decked out camera present for the entire weekend.)
Corey shares many of his mom's social graces, especially from when I was his age. So he's frequently tense and quiet at gatherings where he doesn't know everyone very well. This was taken at dinner on our last night. Eight people were in our party, which might not sound like a lot if you're an extrovert, but he is not.
Relaxed and happy... with the camera close, of course. And it wasn't just these snippets of our weekend for which I have evidence.
On the last morning, the four of us went down to breakfast. The cafe only servesmediocre breakfast in the mornings, and Corey claims not to eat breakfast food (I must have imagined that we go through boxes and boxes of cereal... and cartons of milk.) He asked if he could just wait for us upstairs in the lobby. When we came up, Tom said, "Looks like Corey's holding court." It didn't even register for a minute what he meant. Later on Corey told me all about the woman photographer and her friends that he'd been chatting with. What?!
On the last morning, the four of us went down to breakfast. The cafe only serves
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The Day, A Retrospective
As you probably know, we left at the butt crack of dawn for Corey's school this morning.
***Note to self: It's rather awkward to use the phrase "butt crack of dawn" to a small crowd that includes a woman named Dawn. Choose something else next time. Mm'kay?
The upside of being up that early is that he and I got to watch the sky change from navy with all the constellations to orange to lavender to blue. And we stopped for coffee.
Even though we weren't at school ridiculously early, we were still the first people in line for the counselor's office. We were the first to see his counselor, a cute young woman with tattoos on the insides of her wrists. Once she found out that we'd never been on campus before, she gave Corey a rundown of how things work and where to go for what. He and I had looked up his school on a couple of websites and found out that there's a grassy area that's only for seniors, something confirmed by the counselor.
Here are some of the highlights:
There are murals all over campus. Each class gets an area to paint. It looks like seniors get many areas. Some of them are quite nice.
It's an old school. When we walked into the office, the smell of old wood cabinets and paper and the yellowish lighting took me back to when we transferred to a school in Monrovia (outside of L.A.). I love that smell.
Teachers, staff, security guards... they were out, interacting with kids. I think every adult I came across either smiled, waved or said hello.
I only heard one student swearing. Sure, it was pretty foul. But I work at about a dozen high schools. I am used to foul-mouthed students. Only one was practically sweet.
Did I mention that students didn't try to shove past me? Or get pushy while we all waited for the counseling office to open?
And here's the craziest (and to my mind absolute best) part of the morning: Corey was never given a handbook of rules. Punishment and discipline were not made to be the focus. Getting good classes that meet his needs and interests, however, was all important. Corey really got it, too. When the counselor presented him with available electives, he asked questions about them before deciding (he chose the JROTC and band, in case you were wondering).
The downside is that, although he's finished one semester and one unit of math and one semester of English for this year, they'll have to be retaken. (He'll still get the credits, but the old classes will move into the electives category.) Corey didn't mind too much. He understands that he needs more work on math anyway before he can move on.
Overall, my boy was calm and thoughtful and mature. He chose JROTC even though he knew he'd have to shave off his mustache, imperial and goatee (the loss of his imperial was something he pondered briefly). Within half an hour of being home this afternoon, they were all gone. He looks good without them. Even cuter than before.
Aside from seeing him "hairless" for the first time in a few years, it was strange to look at him at first because I realized something: Corey has his father's mouth. Well, with perfectly straight teeth, but the lips are exactly the same. It's strange to see someone so similar to my ex-husband standing before me. But it's just the mouth. His eyes are mine, except for the lashes. I have no freaking clue where those gorgeous long lashes come from.
All in all, he's a handsome kid. Especially when he's smiling, something he did a lot today.
***Note to self: It's rather awkward to use the phrase "butt crack of dawn" to a small crowd that includes a woman named Dawn. Choose something else next time. Mm'kay?
The upside of being up that early is that he and I got to watch the sky change from navy with all the constellations to orange to lavender to blue. And we stopped for coffee.
Even though we weren't at school ridiculously early, we were still the first people in line for the counselor's office. We were the first to see his counselor, a cute young woman with tattoos on the insides of her wrists. Once she found out that we'd never been on campus before, she gave Corey a rundown of how things work and where to go for what. He and I had looked up his school on a couple of websites and found out that there's a grassy area that's only for seniors, something confirmed by the counselor.
Here are some of the highlights:
There are murals all over campus. Each class gets an area to paint. It looks like seniors get many areas. Some of them are quite nice.
It's an old school. When we walked into the office, the smell of old wood cabinets and paper and the yellowish lighting took me back to when we transferred to a school in Monrovia (outside of L.A.). I love that smell.
Teachers, staff, security guards... they were out, interacting with kids. I think every adult I came across either smiled, waved or said hello.
I only heard one student swearing. Sure, it was pretty foul. But I work at about a dozen high schools. I am used to foul-mouthed students. Only one was practically sweet.
Did I mention that students didn't try to shove past me? Or get pushy while we all waited for the counseling office to open?
And here's the craziest (and to my mind absolute best) part of the morning: Corey was never given a handbook of rules. Punishment and discipline were not made to be the focus. Getting good classes that meet his needs and interests, however, was all important. Corey really got it, too. When the counselor presented him with available electives, he asked questions about them before deciding (he chose the JROTC and band, in case you were wondering).
The downside is that, although he's finished one semester and one unit of math and one semester of English for this year, they'll have to be retaken. (He'll still get the credits, but the old classes will move into the electives category.) Corey didn't mind too much. He understands that he needs more work on math anyway before he can move on.
Overall, my boy was calm and thoughtful and mature. He chose JROTC even though he knew he'd have to shave off his mustache, imperial and goatee (the loss of his imperial was something he pondered briefly). Within half an hour of being home this afternoon, they were all gone. He looks good without them. Even cuter than before.
Aside from seeing him "hairless" for the first time in a few years, it was strange to look at him at first because I realized something: Corey has his father's mouth. Well, with perfectly straight teeth, but the lips are exactly the same. It's strange to see someone so similar to my ex-husband standing before me. But it's just the mouth. His eyes are mine, except for the lashes. I have no freaking clue where those gorgeous long lashes come from.
All in all, he's a handsome kid. Especially when he's smiling, something he did a lot today.
Drum Roll, Please
This morning, in about 45 minutes, Corey will be starting high school. Well yeah, he's in 11th grade and all, but you know what I mean. Yesterday we spent about three hours dealing with registration and I'm not hopeful that his counselor will have a class list ready for him when we arrive.
He's got his backpack... when he was four he called it a "packpack"... all ready. New clothes are on... unwashed because I guess that's how he rolls. Lucky for him he is starting school now and not 20 some-odd years ago when I went. Those black jeans and black shirt (in the desert? really?) would be leaving some serious ink stains in all the corners and creases back then.
I don't really have much to say. We're both excited and nervous (okay, he's excited and nervous... I'm just nervous). To cover myself... and to keep from leaving way too early, I'm stalling.
When we do get there, I have a lot of questions: What are his classes? How long should I stay to help him sort it all out? When does school let out? Will he be able to find his way around? Will people be nice to him? Do we really have to do this?!?
Argh!
He's got his backpack... when he was four he called it a "packpack"... all ready. New clothes are on... unwashed because I guess that's how he rolls. Lucky for him he is starting school now and not 20 some-odd years ago when I went. Those black jeans and black shirt (in the desert? really?) would be leaving some serious ink stains in all the corners and creases back then.
I don't really have much to say. We're both excited and nervous (okay, he's excited and nervous... I'm just nervous). To cover myself... and to keep from leaving way too early, I'm stalling.
When we do get there, I have a lot of questions: What are his classes? How long should I stay to help him sort it all out? When does school let out? Will he be able to find his way around? Will people be nice to him? Do we really have to do this?!?
Argh!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Corey, Corey, Corey
It's been a while since I've aimed a blog post at my son, but it seems like now is as good a time as any. Plus, this is good news, so I've got to get while the getting's good.
Today my son finished tenth grade. Sure, the school year ended for most kids around here somewhere between two and three months ago (why is there such a spread?!?). But Corey's been doing an independent study program since starting eighth grade. He's done well, too.
I'd had him held back for various reasons in sixth grade. One of the reasons this worked was that he was barely up to my shoulder (I'm 5'7"). Imagine my chagrin when he sprouted about six inches and grew a mustache at the age of 12. No, not just a peach fuzz 'stache; a full-blown, my-grown-friends-are-jealous-and-are-you-sure-Magnum-PI-isn't-his-dad doozy.
One thing Corey has always had on his side (if only he would use his powers for good and not eevilll) is that he's smart. Very smart.
During his seventh grade year he completed seventh and eighth grades. The following year he took a more leisurely approach and completed ninth grade about seven weeks into his tenth grade year.
Surprisingly, we both lived.
Somewhere around the middle of October, he began plugging away on the current curriculum. One of the assignments was a math packet that the teacher explained was the hardest one he'd face. He added (not that Corey was listening) that all of the remaining packets are fairly easy in comparison.
Aside from his other work, that packet took nearly 10 months. It should have been done well within a few weeks. He tried everything, and I do mean everything to get out of doing it.
Don't believe me? I have the chest Xrays, neurological assessments and MRI results to prove that, no, he does not have a heart malady, seizure disorder or any other health impairment along those lines.
Ahem... I said this was good news. Got a bit off topic there. Sorry.
So last week he finally got to the part where it was time to take the test. There were three days of antics surrounding that, and ultimately, he failed. Yesterday he was all set to take it again. Naturally he left the study guide (which has to be submitted to take the test) at home.
I should mention that I was off yesterday, so I did drive it to him... 55 miles each way to make sure he wasn't getting away with anything.
Oh, I'm gonna win this one.
After a brief pep talk that excluded all the other things I was thinking, he went in and passed the freaking test.
Whoop whoop!
Here's where things get a little tricky: Corey wants to go to a traditional high school, but if his units completed don't match up with the school year in progress, he's screwed out of credit for work completed.***
The neighborhood high school starts in a few days. He still had a couple of units to complete in an earth science class or he'd have to take the semester over.
Today he passed both tests.
Tonight he got his first cell phone. He would have loved one, oh, five years ago, but he's never been in need of one.
Tomorrow we're enrolling.
Thursday he starts school. Up here. Fifty miles from my job. Seventy miles from Tom's.
He's a boy with a history of acting goofy and/or obnoxious just to get attention.
His temper can flare pretty quickly, although it generally has been under control lately.
He wants to make friends, but hasn't really mastered that aspect of life. So identifying the good'uns versus the baddies isn't a skill he's acquired.
I'm not afraid.
I'm not afraid.
Okay, I'm scared out of my mind, but I don't think he knows that.
***Oh yeah. Remember that math test he took yesterday? Well, he will be getting the one credit that comes from it, but he will still have to redo that semester. Ask me how much I care? G'head, ask me.
Today my son finished tenth grade. Sure, the school year ended for most kids around here somewhere between two and three months ago (why is there such a spread?!?). But Corey's been doing an independent study program since starting eighth grade. He's done well, too.
I'd had him held back for various reasons in sixth grade. One of the reasons this worked was that he was barely up to my shoulder (I'm 5'7"). Imagine my chagrin when he sprouted about six inches and grew a mustache at the age of 12. No, not just a peach fuzz 'stache; a full-blown, my-grown-friends-are-jealous-and-are-you-sure-Magnum-PI-isn't-his-dad doozy.
One thing Corey has always had on his side (if only he would use his powers for good and not eevilll) is that he's smart. Very smart.
During his seventh grade year he completed seventh and eighth grades. The following year he took a more leisurely approach and completed ninth grade about seven weeks into his tenth grade year.
Surprisingly, we both lived.
Somewhere around the middle of October, he began plugging away on the current curriculum. One of the assignments was a math packet that the teacher explained was the hardest one he'd face. He added (not that Corey was listening) that all of the remaining packets are fairly easy in comparison.
Aside from his other work, that packet took nearly 10 months. It should have been done well within a few weeks. He tried everything, and I do mean everything to get out of doing it.
Don't believe me? I have the chest Xrays, neurological assessments and MRI results to prove that, no, he does not have a heart malady, seizure disorder or any other health impairment along those lines.
Ahem... I said this was good news. Got a bit off topic there. Sorry.
So last week he finally got to the part where it was time to take the test. There were three days of antics surrounding that, and ultimately, he failed. Yesterday he was all set to take it again. Naturally he left the study guide (which has to be submitted to take the test) at home.
I should mention that I was off yesterday, so I did drive it to him... 55 miles each way to make sure he wasn't getting away with anything.
Oh, I'm gonna win this one.
After a brief pep talk that excluded all the other things I was thinking, he went in and passed the freaking test.
Whoop whoop!
Here's where things get a little tricky: Corey wants to go to a traditional high school, but if his units completed don't match up with the school year in progress, he's screwed out of credit for work completed.***
The neighborhood high school starts in a few days. He still had a couple of units to complete in an earth science class or he'd have to take the semester over.
Today he passed both tests.
Tonight he got his first cell phone. He would have loved one, oh, five years ago, but he's never been in need of one.
Tomorrow we're enrolling.
Thursday he starts school. Up here. Fifty miles from my job. Seventy miles from Tom's.
He's a boy with a history of acting goofy and/or obnoxious just to get attention.
His temper can flare pretty quickly, although it generally has been under control lately.
He wants to make friends, but hasn't really mastered that aspect of life. So identifying the good'uns versus the baddies isn't a skill he's acquired.
I'm not afraid.
I'm not afraid.
Okay, I'm scared out of my mind, but I don't think he knows that.
***Oh yeah. Remember that math test he took yesterday? Well, he will be getting the one credit that comes from it, but he will still have to redo that semester. Ask me how much I care? G'head, ask me.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
About My Boy
We haven't had any really big problems with Corey since moving here. Moreover, he has been much more helpful around here than he tended to be at the apartment. Is it a honeymoon phase? I don't know. It's lasted a month. He said he feels safe here, unlike our old place. He loves the house and the neighborhood. I believe he's proud of our home.
Sure, we've had some downs with the ups. For example, Corey nearly garnered a truancy last month for not turning in enough credits. However, as much as Corey is responsible, my mom is also part of that problem. Despite my telling her three different ways in the past month (not to mention countless other times before it was this important) that Corey needs to do schoolwork during school hours, she just doesn't seem to get it. She says she does now. And she's our only solution to the dilemma of what to do with Corey, so we have exceptionally limited options but to try to believe her and otherwise stay on top of things.
One of Corey's major achievements is that he found out on Tuesday that he passed the California High School Exit Exam (CAHSEE... pronounced like Casey). Am I surprised that he was able to pass both parts on the first try? No. Am I surprised that he did it? A little. This is my guy who, when being tested in seventh grade by someone who'd never met him before, gave such lame answers that he was referred to a speech program and "how did he get this far with pre-kindergarten skills?!" Yeah, right. When he was pre-K, Corey tested at a second grade level (testing in that case was for entry into a private school... he was accepted for skill and then recommended to wait a year for behavior... I wish I could have gotten a better hold of my ego on that one).
Another major success is that (and I'm praying that I don't jinx myself right now), Corey hasn't been hoarding anything. Not food, not weapons, not things that can become weapons. For the first time in about 9 months we had a counseling appointment that was never angry, hostile or sarcastic... on anyone's part.
Things have been going well enough with Corey that Tom called yesterday to see if I wanted to pick up Madelyn and let him get Corey... something he hadn't offered to do since living here. Too bad we were already up the hill. But it really says something about Tom's being able to let go of a little of his anger regarding Corey's past choices. That's been a righteous struggle for Tom over the past several months. I am sure to be one of a few people who shall be crushed if Corey goes astray again.
This morning I had to drop both kids off about much earlier than I usually do. Corey knew this. I got nearly no sleep at all last night, probably from subconscious worries about being late to an important meeting. Ten minutes before I was going to get up, I heard Corey head down the stairs. He made a bottle for Mad and fed her while I dressed. He was ready when it was time to go. I dropped him off 10 minutes ahead of my have-to-do-it-by schedule.
Tonight, despite how hard things went on Tuesday after I complimented him, I told Corey again that I am proud of how he's handled things this week. It's sad to be fearful of praising your kid lest he self-destruct again, but I focus on the fact that it's worse not to do it anyway.
One of the best things I've ever been able to tell Corey... that I knew he would be thrilled with immediately (he was thrilled about Tom and I getting married and especially about my being pregnant, but I wasn't sure he would be) is this: Tomorrow we are getting a puppy. A little girl whose name has not been chosen. We may also acquire one of her brothers, but that is not a given. Corey will be helping to rescue at least this one dog of three who were left in a box on the corner of a dairy owned by a family I know. As good as he is with his sister, I know he will be with this sweet, skittish, darling being. He may also try to get out of the majority of feedings and any excretory cleanups, but he will show her (them?) love and playfulness. Tomorrow evening will be quite busy, as we need to handle shots and a serious flea bath before we can converge at home (here's an unexpected bonus of living up the hill... fleas are not a problem unless one lives near one of the lakes or the aqueduct... we do not). And since we won't know until tomorrow if the brother is coming, too, we'll have to get the doggie bed and whatever other supplies are still needed.
I'm happy to say that Corey's feeling up to the challenge.
Sure, we've had some downs with the ups. For example, Corey nearly garnered a truancy last month for not turning in enough credits. However, as much as Corey is responsible, my mom is also part of that problem. Despite my telling her three different ways in the past month (not to mention countless other times before it was this important) that Corey needs to do schoolwork during school hours, she just doesn't seem to get it. She says she does now. And she's our only solution to the dilemma of what to do with Corey, so we have exceptionally limited options but to try to believe her and otherwise stay on top of things.
One of Corey's major achievements is that he found out on Tuesday that he passed the California High School Exit Exam (CAHSEE... pronounced like Casey). Am I surprised that he was able to pass both parts on the first try? No. Am I surprised that he did it? A little. This is my guy who, when being tested in seventh grade by someone who'd never met him before, gave such lame answers that he was referred to a speech program and "how did he get this far with pre-kindergarten skills?!" Yeah, right. When he was pre-K, Corey tested at a second grade level (testing in that case was for entry into a private school... he was accepted for skill and then recommended to wait a year for behavior... I wish I could have gotten a better hold of my ego on that one).
Another major success is that (and I'm praying that I don't jinx myself right now), Corey hasn't been hoarding anything. Not food, not weapons, not things that can become weapons. For the first time in about 9 months we had a counseling appointment that was never angry, hostile or sarcastic... on anyone's part.
Things have been going well enough with Corey that Tom called yesterday to see if I wanted to pick up Madelyn and let him get Corey... something he hadn't offered to do since living here. Too bad we were already up the hill. But it really says something about Tom's being able to let go of a little of his anger regarding Corey's past choices. That's been a righteous struggle for Tom over the past several months. I am sure to be one of a few people who shall be crushed if Corey goes astray again.
This morning I had to drop both kids off about much earlier than I usually do. Corey knew this. I got nearly no sleep at all last night, probably from subconscious worries about being late to an important meeting. Ten minutes before I was going to get up, I heard Corey head down the stairs. He made a bottle for Mad and fed her while I dressed. He was ready when it was time to go. I dropped him off 10 minutes ahead of my have-to-do-it-by schedule.
Tonight, despite how hard things went on Tuesday after I complimented him, I told Corey again that I am proud of how he's handled things this week. It's sad to be fearful of praising your kid lest he self-destruct again, but I focus on the fact that it's worse not to do it anyway.
One of the best things I've ever been able to tell Corey... that I knew he would be thrilled with immediately (he was thrilled about Tom and I getting married and especially about my being pregnant, but I wasn't sure he would be) is this: Tomorrow we are getting a puppy. A little girl whose name has not been chosen. We may also acquire one of her brothers, but that is not a given. Corey will be helping to rescue at least this one dog of three who were left in a box on the corner of a dairy owned by a family I know. As good as he is with his sister, I know he will be with this sweet, skittish, darling being. He may also try to get out of the majority of feedings and any excretory cleanups, but he will show her (them?) love and playfulness. Tomorrow evening will be quite busy, as we need to handle shots and a serious flea bath before we can converge at home (here's an unexpected bonus of living up the hill... fleas are not a problem unless one lives near one of the lakes or the aqueduct... we do not). And since we won't know until tomorrow if the brother is coming, too, we'll have to get the doggie bed and whatever other supplies are still needed.
I'm happy to say that Corey's feeling up to the challenge.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Thanks, Mom!
This has to be quick. I'm at Mom's house, using her computer because ours has gone from sick with at least 15 viruses (viri?) to anybody-know-the-Last-Rites? Well, it's not really dying as much as it doesn't matter that it's alive. I can turn it on, log in and watch it start to load for about 15 seconds before it logs me off again. "Windows" is not a recognized file. That's bad, right?
And how did we come to have such a meltdown while we're in escrow and can't spend an extra cent on anything otherwise how will we pay for the new appliances and blinds the house requires? I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say my son was porn surfing... again. I'm not just saying that because he's my favorite scapegoat. I say that because the names of the infected files that brought the computer down (back when I thought it was still salvageable) pretty well spelled it out.
Last night Corey stayed here at Mom's house. He also got to come here for a few hours on Friday afternoon. My mom and I have had a standing rule that Corey can use her secondary computer... the one without Internet access while he's here. Makes sense, right?
Imagine my chagrin when I called this morning and asked what he was up to... he was playing his game on this computer. "It's okay. Grammy let's me."
Oh, hell no!
So I called her... she was already at church. She works there (for now, damned economy), and leaves Corey at home until the second service. Corey wasn't making it up. She does let him.
How many times have we talked about the need for him to be supervised if he's on this computer? Or if he's at work with her, because yes, my boy has stolen from the church. But it's as if those things are so far in the past as to not be of concern anymore.
With all the recent problems we've had... and they've been huge... you'd think she could truly be helpful, instead of trying to be his friend.
So I have appealed, yet again, to her desire for his well-being, and how that does not include porn surfing. As an extra measure, I pointed out the damage done to our computer and that she can't afford to have to repair this one again. Less than a month ago she had to get a new tower and all the bits that go into it. She had gotten a virus somehow. Anybody want to guess how?
And how did we come to have such a meltdown while we're in escrow and can't spend an extra cent on anything otherwise how will we pay for the new appliances and blinds the house requires? I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say my son was porn surfing... again. I'm not just saying that because he's my favorite scapegoat. I say that because the names of the infected files that brought the computer down (back when I thought it was still salvageable) pretty well spelled it out.
Last night Corey stayed here at Mom's house. He also got to come here for a few hours on Friday afternoon. My mom and I have had a standing rule that Corey can use her secondary computer... the one without Internet access while he's here. Makes sense, right?
Imagine my chagrin when I called this morning and asked what he was up to... he was playing his game on this computer. "It's okay. Grammy let's me."
Oh, hell no!
So I called her... she was already at church. She works there (for now, damned economy), and leaves Corey at home until the second service. Corey wasn't making it up. She does let him.
How many times have we talked about the need for him to be supervised if he's on this computer? Or if he's at work with her, because yes, my boy has stolen from the church. But it's as if those things are so far in the past as to not be of concern anymore.
With all the recent problems we've had... and they've been huge... you'd think she could truly be helpful, instead of trying to be his friend.
So I have appealed, yet again, to her desire for his well-being, and how that does not include porn surfing. As an extra measure, I pointed out the damage done to our computer and that she can't afford to have to repair this one again. Less than a month ago she had to get a new tower and all the bits that go into it. She had gotten a virus somehow. Anybody want to guess how?
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