(no subject)
This weekend was good in that I went to see Sammy. The nurse who let me in (it was Sunday) said, "Here to see your sweet little angel baby?" I thought, Uh oh. Sammy is many things, but a "sweet little angel baby" is not one of them. When I told the nurse that, she said "Well, I know, but I couldn't very well say "Come to visit your little terror on two feet, now could I?" The nurses know me well enough there to know I'd find that hilarious. I've developed-or refined-a sick sense of humor, which may seem tasteless but it gets me through. It sure beats the guilt.
Sammy is a terror lately because he took the skills he's learned on the fake rock wall in therapy, and applied them to: 1) a bookcase, 2) his dresser, and 3) the playground fence. No wonder when his teacher was giving awards for the school year, he got "most acrobatic" and "best laugh". Yeah, laughing at everyone chasing him! the little booger.
Holly has been in therapy for the past six weeks. The deaths of her grandfather, our neighbor, and the kitten plus Sammy's going away all seemed to pile up and she was lashing out in tantrums and crying jags. I liked the counselor very much when we had a family session at the beginning, and Holly seems to be making great strides in controlling her temper and her emotions in all. I'm glad she's going to Ohio this week; maybe getting away from me and from this city will do her a lot of good. It'll be good for her to spend time with her dad and his family. Just because I dislike his parents does not necessarily make them bad people, and I always told G. that I wouldn't get in the way of the kids and their grandparents.
I'm glad I'm getting out, too. There's too much coming at me all at once. I received yet another letter from the university saying "Congratulations, you aced that earth science test", or words to that effect. Holy shit, I did it. But that old voice of "What are you doing? You'll just fuck it all up" won't stop. The counselor has helped me, but is this it for the rest of my life? Always having that voice in me?
I just think I have to get away from the "doing" of my life and look back on it, to know what in the world I'm supposed to be doing. I had a huge epiphany in England, but I suppose short of overseas, Mississippi will have to do )).
Sammy is a terror lately because he took the skills he's learned on the fake rock wall in therapy, and applied them to: 1) a bookcase, 2) his dresser, and 3) the playground fence. No wonder when his teacher was giving awards for the school year, he got "most acrobatic" and "best laugh". Yeah, laughing at everyone chasing him! the little booger.
Holly has been in therapy for the past six weeks. The deaths of her grandfather, our neighbor, and the kitten plus Sammy's going away all seemed to pile up and she was lashing out in tantrums and crying jags. I liked the counselor very much when we had a family session at the beginning, and Holly seems to be making great strides in controlling her temper and her emotions in all. I'm glad she's going to Ohio this week; maybe getting away from me and from this city will do her a lot of good. It'll be good for her to spend time with her dad and his family. Just because I dislike his parents does not necessarily make them bad people, and I always told G. that I wouldn't get in the way of the kids and their grandparents.
I'm glad I'm getting out, too. There's too much coming at me all at once. I received yet another letter from the university saying "Congratulations, you aced that earth science test", or words to that effect. Holy shit, I did it. But that old voice of "What are you doing? You'll just fuck it all up" won't stop. The counselor has helped me, but is this it for the rest of my life? Always having that voice in me?
I just think I have to get away from the "doing" of my life and look back on it, to know what in the world I'm supposed to be doing. I had a huge epiphany in England, but I suppose short of overseas, Mississippi will have to do )).