i survived christmas and it wasn't easy. i have increasing hostility toward engaging in complete indulgence for kids who have basically been indulged all year; they're entitled; they usually work through their mom to get the priciest things; and then mom, exhausted, wants me to do the stockings. it's not like she restricts the money, as last year, we just plain didn't have it. this year we had a little more, but the principle was the same. almost nothing i buy for them would make any difference or be anything but a disappointment. last year i bought C a baseball and baseball glove in hopes that we could get out and use it sometime, and it still sits on my shelf; he never even took it with him. they did however take the basketball; it's the one thing that works. candy works. this year, she said, she's buying nike hoodies for six, a slightly warmer version for the older boy coming back from chicago, and nothing else. not everyone was happy. so what. stockings were almost 100% candy.

i mourn the days when there were books, games and puzzles under the tree. it was like a feast for the mind, christmas day, you could start a new book and then take a break and play some risk or read a magazine. this year i couldn't buy a single magazine. was there even a magazine these kids would read? in my experience, it was close enough to "no" to not keep trying. if it had pictures they might look at the pictures.

i don't know how to buck this trend. indulgence of kids goes all the way back and worked fine for the first seven, all of whom naturally grew into wanting to take care of themselves, and fully able to learn things they needed to learn in order to do it, like getting a job, doing laundry, doing dishes, etc. two of the last three, indulgence will spread out into adulthood and be all there is until it's all over. then what, a place where they do dishes for you? if we are a place where all they do is watch tv they might as well be in an institution because we won't be around much longer and we deserve a break.

so this grumpy santa goes around thinking all this mean stuff and buying candy, tons of it until the stockings are literally bursting with it. and nothing else but a basketball. there's a scene at christmas anyway as the boy wants a car really and is so frustrated that he's not on the road to getting a car, that he literally can't take seeing other stuff, like six hoodies, instead of a car. like we're going to just produce a car for a kid who can't control his impulses. Speakinng of impulses he breaks a gate and pulls out a knife at some point, and also walks off with my wife's phone which as far as we can tell he didn't steal money directly from. it's scary though. he scares her and she just gives him money sometimes. kind of like, just take this money and go leave me alone. even on christmas.

it's a bleak picture of a dysfunctional family, though the older boy came home for three days, slept sixteen hours on a recliner and another thirteen on a futon, and went back full of good food and apple pie, happy with the jacket he'd received. we talked politics with him and other things as adults should be able to do. there were christmas cookies as well as pie and all his favorite foods were produced and put in front of him.

i myself got a couple of shirts, both very large, one significantly heavier than the other, both blue. large enough so that when my pants keep creeping down my butt i don't have to be shy about leaning over and showing too much underwear, the shirts will just cover the slack. thus i can function comfortably in this world though i still should put extra holes in my belt just to prevent that kind of pants-falling which is all to common in this world.

meanwhile in the new year i will continue to be a gopher for this kind of pointless indulgence until the sun goes down or somebody figures out how to get out of this vicious cycle of more indulgence leading to only indulgence with no such thing as getting things for oneself. it's ablility that's lacking, not desire. somehow they just don't wake up wanting to learn a skill that will support their independence. and this is what has to change.

 

it's a bitterly cold day, but i just went outside with the dog and that seemed to make me feel better. i need to get up and around more as my lack of activity has just about made me rust up.

the dog has two balls, one which he refuses to let go of, and the other, as a result, i can kick and he can chase. and that's what we do, only with the first ball in his mouth the whole time. i walk around to where he's struggling to pick them both up in his mouth (he can't do it), and i get the second one out from under him, and i kick it. that was good for about ten minutes. it felt like an hour, it was so cold.

i have to get some of the exercise machinery going. there's one in the garage, but the garage is as cold as the yard. there's one in the basement but you about have to go outside to access it. the stairs are all blocked and in fact i don't like that, i might have to move some water stands out of the way. what if we needed our tornado shelter?

even the ten minutes, in the cold snowy windy grim day, filled me with some kind of oxygen. i am now feeling like i have some choices, like i can do some of the things i want to do.

every day i have a list of way too many things to do. many of them are routine, everyday: read marketing; i'd like to read about 150 pages. one is listen to audiobooks; i'm falling behind on this one. i have to listen as a process of getting used to my cochlear implant. i have things downloaded, and i have favorites, and often i just listen to my own narrators reading my own books. whatever, i need to get started again.


where do you see my writing in here? often i get through the day without doing any. i've gone a few days already without. this is not good. i could be writing here (on one of many blogs), or in my journal (where i chronicle the problems of raising a dmdd boy who is very manipulative and has nothing better to do than get take-out off of his parents, even on thanksgiving) - and believe me i've been mad enough recently to have plenty to say. but unhappily, there is no easy solution. he has nowhere else to go, and the trap we're in, we set it ourselves, and you can't make a sick kid, especially a mentally ill one, just grow up and not be bound up in his mother anymore. it's frustrating but i don't know what else i could do. i give rides. i go get take-out. i try not to get angry. i write in my journal (the journal of anger) - this blog is a little more general and protects his privacy a little better.

but there's more, besides door-dashing, and i'm taking a little break from dashing while he's unstable, my wife needs me, and there's too many other dashers out there anyway. there's work on the various houses - this one, the academy house, and whatever new one he's about to occupy.

back to writing, i have to say that i did finish one book of short stories, and i got a short story into an anthology, which was published yesterday or the day before. that anthology deals with shelter pets and its profits will go to shelters; i like that. things are not all bleak. i'm working on a novel. if i get time i can finish it.

i'd like to do quilting. i'd like to get into my stamps. not sure if i'll ever do these, but it's worth mentioning. it may happen. and then, on saturday, my trip to the new library. see post above. ciao