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9/26/12

She's Baaack!


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.

Ah, Ah, Baby


So we spent the months of June, July, and August a mess. My formerly troubled daughter had to get one last thing on her bucket list: an abortion.

A few months ago, she started to complain about being really sick to her stomach, even vomiting all night. At first, I just thought she had eaten something nasty or caught something. But it kept happening. One day, I took her grocery shopping at WinCo. and she described some other symptoms to me that could really only mean one thing.

I bought a pregnancy test for her and we went into the bathroom at the WinCo. and, what do you know? It came up positive. We were in shock, thinking we read it wrong, so we did a second one. Yup, same answer.

She cried. I comforted. I told her to call her boyfriend and let him know they had some issues to deal with. She left a message and waited an agonizingly long time before he called her back. She cried through WinCo. as we shopped. But I didn’t condemn her for this. I couldn’t. I just needed to make sure she understood that she wasn’t going to have a baby. It wasn’t time, she wasn’t ready, neither of them are equipped, and it just wasn’t going to happen. The only answer was an abortion. As you can imagine, I’ve 100% pro-choice. Not a single second thought. Same for my girls. No way they’re ruining their lives with a baby. Children are too precious and need more than a couple of dumb, immature kids can give them.

My daughter finally talked it over with her boyfriend, and he was very supportive and caring. Good. They insisted on handling it themselves. Oy, not so good.

To make a long story short, it wasn’t until the end of August, when it was almost to the point of being illegal (it was past 20 weeks), that she finally gathered the $800 (earlier, it would’ve been half that) and the strength, and went in for the procedure. There was a lot of soul-searching, relationship reevaluating, arguing, crying, frustration, morning/afternoon/evening sickness in the weeks/months prior, but finally the day arrived.

The relief we felt (and still feel) can’t be measured. She dodged the bullet of perpetual poverty, depression, frustration, and a youth lost. The $800 (most of which came from her own bank account) wiped her out financially and emotionally. She fought with the boyfriend over what he was doing/not doing to help. Of course, she was very emotionally charged for those months and swears he’s an awesome boyfriend now, so I keep my mouth shut. They’re back to being stupid kids who just want to be in each other’s company. I’m pushing her to get herself on shots or pills, but I can’t make her do anything. I can only assume she’d prefer to NEVER go through this emotional, physical, and financial lynching ever again.