When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. That’s how the old saying goes, right? Well, I’m sitting here, drinking lemonade right now, but I didn’t make it. Paige and her boyfriend decided they were hitting Chick-Fil-A for dinner (not like I made dinner or anything … freakin kids with jobs), so I begged that they would bring me back a large diet lemonade (freakin diet, freakin everything). After the day I had today, which was about on par with how awful everyday since Friday has been. Minus the nice lady that told me what a great mom I am. And the surprise Paige brought me home from her trip to Target last night (pictured below). I mean, those things were awesome and definitely lifted my spirits. This giant cup of lemonade with a plastic straw sticking out of the awful for the planet styrofoam cup with it’s plastic lid (so bad for the environment, but I get a pass tonight for my own mental health reasons, ie Jen issues) is making my night just so much better. I cannot begin to relate how unbelievably frustrating it is to constantly hear how sorry someone is, and how they wish they could help, but there is nothing they can do. I went up to Fivay high school (where Jen and Alex are enrolled) to speak with the social worker (the officers that were here this weekend suggested I reach out to her). Man did I get a surprise (not really since Jen has done this to me before, actually very recently) when she told me that she had met with my youngest child this morning. I guess Jen is mad at me because I told her there was absolutely no way she was allowed to leave the house early and run to school (as Sheriff Hoyt said in the 2003 version of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre “I smell bullshit” … couldn’t agree with you more Sheriff, it reeks in here), so to punish me for the perceived slight she requested that the social worker file a report against me with CPI. She said she couldn’t tell me what Jen had said, but that CPI would be contacting me (again) and open an investigation (another investigation). Was there anything she could do to help my end of this whole mess? Of course not. No we do not meet criteria (because my daughter is smart and has figured out how to work the system). No, we do not accept your insurance (we have crappy Medicaid because I can’t leave her alone, so I can’t work because she might burn down the house in a rage, or hurt the dogs, or get pregnant, or runaway, or any of the other countless things that are so wrong, but her broken mind tells her she has the right to do). I hear no on a daily basis. Anyway, back to my lemonade and how sweet my other kids are to me. Oh yes, and my dad gave me a major hookup today. He bought me these super awesome cameras (bluetooth, wireless, all the bells and whistles) to hide around the house so I can record what actually goes on here, not only to protect myself from any future unfounded allegations, but also so I have video evidence of who she really is when she isn’t trying to con some poor, unsuspecting person in either the psych field or some do gooder that thinks she needs saving from the horror house she pretends to live in. I try my damnedest not to get angry with these people she’s duped, since she is extremely convincing, so it’s really not their fault, but it gets harder everyday. Anyway, I’m off to suck down the rest of my tasty beverage (“May I have a sip of your tasty beverage?” Julius from Pulp Fiction go get your damn own) and hopefully catch some shuteye (been up since 3:30am, thanks Peaches for wanting attention in the middle of the night). Have a good one.
Currently listening to “The Incredibles II”, since that seems to be the fan favorite of the kids tonight and is playing loudly in Paige’s room right now.
