Second Chances

Youngest Son missed passing the written test to receive his driving learner’s permit yesterday by just one question.  It was disappointing.  The experience was not bad, however, and his reaction was good.  His disappointment was at an appropriate level and he just geared himself up to come home and study some more and try again.  He did that this morning and passed.  He is so proud of himself.  Me, too.  (Yes, of me.  I did a LOT of work to get that boy to the point where he could respond appropriately to a big disappointment – to having to wait.)  I am exceedingly proud of him.

The lady at the state level DMV office yesterday just gushed over how cute he was as a 12 year old boy.  She loved the picture on his Certificate of Citizenship (COC).  Thankfully, she didn’t make the mistake so many do and say, “I wish you were mine” (or something like that).  We sure wouldn’t have needed that little trigger on my RADish boy.  It could have been step one to the spiral that turns into the whole “this is your fault” (directed at me) when he failed the test yesterday.  Step two:  I wish I belonged to that lady, too.  Step three:  You should have spent more time with me on this.  Step four:  I hate my life.  Step five:  . . . . .

Well, you get the picture.

But she didn’t say that.  And it didn’t happen.  (Thank you, LORD!)

And therapy (DBT) taught him to feel the feelings, know he could be triggered, but reel those feelings in and respond appropriately.   So, if you see a car going in ovals around an abandoned store’s parking lot today and there’s a teenage boy and a frightened-looking middle aged mom in the front seat, it may be us.  Yay us!

Busy Morning

Nothing finishes off a busy morning quite so well as an unplanned, but very pleasant lunch with The Princess’ school counselor.  I like him.  He’s a good guy.  He helped me a lot with Youngest Son when he was in middle school, and was really there for me during our boy’s rough stuff last year.

We chatted a bit about the mean girl stuff that’s been going on with The Princess.  He’s frustrated, just like me.  He said, “Man, these girls can hold onto things forever!”  He also reassured me that he thought I was handling things well.  He said he wished more parents realized their girls were just as nasty as the ones they complained about – if not worse.  He said the lying the girls do drives him insane.  (Me, too.)  He said if people just got real and dropped their defenses, we’d be able to teach kids a lot more.  (I agree.)

Backtracking a little bit in the day, the morning started off "normally."  Yes, I mean OUR normal.  Youngest Son was dragging his heels.  The Princess was trying to talk me into allowing her to wear shorts and flip flops.  I was telling her she knows when she is allowed to wear shorts and flip flops.  It is not March.  I don’t care what other parents allow.  Besides, I think these girls standing around in shorts (that are too short) and flip flops, shivering, as they hold their hoodies close around their skinny little bodies, with the hoods over their heads, jumping up and down saying, “The wind is so cold out here,” are ridiculous.  (Am I the ONLY one tempted to yell, "Well, DUH!?")  So anyway, we had the normal clothing war stuff this morning.  We also had the normal "Come on, let's get moving" stuff this morning.  It’s a daily occurrence since 2007.  I’m used to it.

Our girl went off to school, reviewing our mantra:  NO NOTES, be kind, ignore other people who want to be unkind.  She was okay.  Track starts today and she’s looking forward to that.

After dropping her at school, Youngest Son had his therapy appointment and a med check.  Everything went well.  He’s working.  The psychiatric nurse that monitors his meds said she noticed he’s been “bright-eyed and bushy tailed.”  He grinned and blushed.  No med changes.  He liked that. 

I just keep praying he stays on track and continues to do well.  Once again, I cannot sing the praises of DBT therapy enough.  Be sure to read about that sometime.

We talked about Youngest Son getting his driving learner’s permit on the way to taking him back to school.  He’s excited.  I’m excited for him – and nervous.  I was nervous for all four of his older brothers, too.  I promised him I’d stop by the DMV to pick up the state law book he needs to study for his test.  When I did, I learned he’d have to go to a state office (not our regional office) because he was internationally adopted.  I can’t just show his Certificate of Citizenship and birth certificate to the regional office.  They have to register him at the state level.  (It’s not like they don’t already have enough paperwork on this kid at both the state and federal levels.)  It boggles my mind.  Well, I have the book.  When he’s ready, I guess we’ll take a day off of school to go to a state level office. 

So again, It was a good and busy morning.  When I got home and was getting out of the car, I pulled my back out.  Oh well, so much for getting the laundry done.