How does so much time go by? Life changes so quickly and I
keep forgetting to chronicle all the adventures and important minutiae.
As of August 1, 2012, my formerly troubled teen moved back
in with me. I asked her to, believe it or not. I didn’t like the way she was
living—her apartment was dirty and, even though I went over to clean it every
now and again, it was painful to see how gross she decided to be. It was also
very stressful for her to live there because of the rent and the dismal
neighborhood.
And the loneliness.
After the doofus, loser boyfriend moved out and left her to
deal with the rent and upkeep herself, she was alone there in a two-bedroom
apartment. Even though the complex was new-ish and the unit was nice, the
clientele was nasty. I think her next-door neighbor was a prostitute or, at the
very least, a drug dealer. I got a second-hand buzz just by knocking on my
daughter’s door. Her building was next to a vacant lot that was used for
discarding old mattresses and beer bottles and heroin needles (probably). And because
she didn’t have a car, she had to walk around these places to go to work and to
the corner convenience store.
I couldn’t take it anymore and she was not thriving. So I
encouraged her to come home—and she agreed that it was a good idea. This way
she could get a car and go to community college and not have the weight of the
world on her hands. It took a thousand trips back to the apartment to get her
things, and eviction notices, but she’s out of there. It’ll be a mark on her
credit, but her well being is more important.
So, is it working? Yes. She’s much happier and calmer and
she lives in a safe, clean environment. She has food in the fridge, company
when she needs it (me), a nice room to sleep in, and a fast computer to use for
school. She’s taking two classes that she loves, and is much more relaxed. We
spend time talking and have even taken some lovely road trips together so she
can take photographs. I truly enjoy our special days together. We talk like
adults and work things out without arguing and yelling. We’ve both learned to
be patient and listen—and not react so much. Sometimes, I think she’s better at
it than I am. I think her new boyfriend (of 5 months or so) has taught her how
to be a friend. I may not approve of him overall, but it’s possible that he’s
been good for her. She’s never had a relationship (with a guy or a friend) that
has lasted so long and is still positive.
The only snag is that she collected some cats while she was
on her own, two extra kittens that are screwing up my life. They’ve scratched
and peed and vomited and meowed and annoyed me to the point where I feel like I’m
under siege by two creatures that weigh less than my running shoes. She also
brought back the old cat that she took with her—and he’s nasty and mean, and
has chased away my sweet female cat. That’s our issue, which seems like nothing
compared to the old ones—drugs, promiscuity, attitude, and badness. I prefer this.