Today has been one on "those" days. It started out all Snow Whitish, not in the "someday my prince will come" way but in the birds are singing, and I am skipping around the wishing well, - all happy, happy, joy, joy- except that I didn't really skip and I don't have a wishing well.
Anyway...things were going swimmingly. Everyone got up and out without problem, I got the bulk of my household chores over early, the baby I keep three days a week settled down for his nap right on time and (cue the foreboding music) then the phone rings. It's the high school graduation coach telling my that my senior son has not turned in his research paper and there is no way he can graduate unless and until it is turned in.
What's worse is not that I found this out, but that he lied to his dad and me and said that it was completed prior to our vacation last week. We allowed him to have two friends along contingent on the finished paper. So the happy, happy, joy, joy, is gone now replaced with angry, angry, bitterly disappointed, bitterly disappointed.
I bandied ugly thoughts and emotions about for a while and came to the conclusion, that it is not my failure as a mother that caused his behavior. (Not sure if that's true but it makes me feel a little better.) There comes a time when each one must take possesion of his own "stuff", wholly and stop playing the blame game. Hard-working responsible parents can have irresponsible, take the easy way kids. We were never perfect parents and never claimed to be. We did the best we could with what we had at any given time and prayed it was enough. So after coming to my own sort of calm about this...the phone rings, again.
The high school, for the second time, different issue, different kid. This time I am told Allison needs me to bring her more suitable clothing or spend the rest of the day in ISS. As I write this she is in ISS, a bailout would not help with learning the needed lesson. In this situation I see her lesson as rules and authorities are expected to be obeyed. I can't help but wonder what my lesson is in all this, but I'll have to ponder that later since the phone is ringing and caller id shows it's the primary school.
As a kid who did my share of messing up, I can tell you that it's not you. My parents did the best they could and I made my own mistakes. Nothing more. I'm sure they second guessed and thought "what if"... I know I do now with mine. Hang in there. Sounds like it's just one bad day, not a life time of bad.
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