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Past midnight Maggie and I are texting… our favorite Giant is heading home to Los Angeles.  That still doesn’t change things.  #BeatLA

The day started with a small text from Ethan: “hi.” I responded, “Hi, Bud” and in the next text proceeded to let him know when I would be picking him up at his friend’s house as his dad was sick.  I headed towards the coffee machine when I noticed his light was on so I stopped to turn it off, walked into the living room, and there he sat.  I jumped a bit, then hightailed it back into my room to grab a robe as he sat there, grinning.   I’m not ashamed, but I really like to know when people are around so I can strut my stuff, accordingly. 

Spent the morning talking to him as I sipped my coffee.  We discussed the struggles, possible solutions, and as always with this kid, I really understood.  

He napped a bit and I began the house cleaning. Always the housecleaning. While I’m not a hoarder I do tend to possess the “oh-this’ll-be-perfect-when-I” and a tad of the “I-can-use-this-for…”.  The first still hasn’t happened and the second is too rare to be beneficial.  I must adjust to a full time pitcher. I got rid of many belongings… and it does feel good.  What use are they to me in the garage?  

What a day.  Messes that shouldn’t be, water in places it doesn’t belong;  I order pizza.  The boys (Ethan has a friend over) begin eating.  The doorbell rings again…another pizza.  I pick up Maggie, we’re lost in Xanadu.  Lizzie’s final OEM parts arrive Tuesday so she should be home by the weekend.  I am so excited…. Now to pick her out some new insides….

Pictures: Movin’ on up; Pizza the Second

Waking up on a Friday morning is a terrific pick-me-up.  An even better pick-me-upper is knowing I get to spend the day in juvenile hall.

And there I am, sitting in the dining area with a big, fat smile on my face, gazing at these kids.  I feel so fortunate to have that “little bit of crazy to belong here.”

On the way back to the clinic to finish up paperwork, I noticed a bent tree, which were actually Native American trail markers or marked sources of water.  A friend of mine posted something about this on Facebook the other day and so I looked into it.  Fascinating stuff.  I pass such a tree on the way to Juvie.

Life happens. It happens quickly and it’s overwhelming, especially when you’re young. It is so important to have a good relationship with your child so they can reach out to you when they are scared, overwhelmed and unsure about the future.  During their teen years, the ONLY thing that can make a difference/impact  in your teen’s life is the relationship you have with them.  You are their rock.

It might be a very late night for me again.

Picture: Bent tree.

https://roadtrippers.com/stories/mysterious-bent-trees-are-actually-native-american-trail-markers

I was in tears this morning because of a video a friend sent me, showing the way a Hispanic journalist was treated by a certain man whom I choose not to mention. The great thing about working in the mental health field is that Healers are all around me.   I was given advice by one of them, saying that we have a lot of time ahead of us and we cannot allow ourselves to be exhausted before the fight really begins.   So, I took Facebook off my phone once again (I had put it on in the last few weeks of chaos in order to keep in touch with someone).  I also need to stop being this goddamn martyr,  trying to “bridge the chasm.”  Fuck that.  I’m not Joan of Arc.  

On the way to school, my son asked me if I was writing my Five a Day.   I told him I wasn’t, that I didn’t have time anymore… trying to get to bed at 8 o’clock at night because I feel absolutely exhausted and depleted at the end of the day tends to cut the time short.  Yet I wonder if my writing wasn’t one of the things that kept me more grounded than I thought?  

A really rough morning, yet without fail, I am shown how good my life really is . An opportunity to meet someone, a life that really could not get much worse. If given the chance, I will fight tooth and nail to help get a little sunlight into that life. 

I’m so pissed off, so many steps forward and then a little bit of stress and I tumble down the  hill like Jack.  No one else really sees it,  but I feel it; the boobs are getting so much bigger again and I hate that. It may look good in  magazines but they sure as hell isn’t comfortable.

Home.  Alone.  Kids are with dad at Maggie’s high school orientation.  I’m home checking out hotels in New Orleans.  I can’t build a fire to save my life, the scanner isn’t working (though it did last week), I still haven’t learned guitar and now I need to learn Spanish.  Thank God I go to juvenile hall tomorrow.

Pictures: My voodoo doll; A road I travel on several time a a week.

Long day of volleyball for my girl, but through some very hard work and very stressful times for the parents, the girls are now in the gold league, moving up from silver.  Terrific job, ladies!

During this game, I distracted myself a great deal (as I did at last weekend’s tourney after the women’s march) by getting to know Twitter.  I follow a lot of the Alt sites and have been dismayed at the sudden left hook this country has taken.

I’ve also found a new hobby: activism!  I joined the ACLU and if timing were a little different, I’d be at SFO offering my services.

As for Life At Home, things are ok.  A lot of red flags went off last Monday, which means a great deal of work needs to be done, but that’s ok – I’m ready to be here-er and  present-er.

They are growing again.  Goddammitt.

Pictures: Maggie’s team Alta Sierra; It doesn’t make any sense; Sunrise, sunset…our travels today (and also a line from my favorite musical about a Jewish family).

I would like to thank everyone for the outpouring of support.  Knowing that people are thinking of us is more helpful than you could ever know.

Because it is not “mine” to share, I will not post anything specific about what took place, but I will share that everyone is ok.

On a different but related topic, I will (re)share something that is “very” mine:  when I was an adolescent, I suffered a traumatic brain injury which altered my life completely.  I needed to change how I felt; was a I hollow shell with a face stamped on.  I could say the right things, smile, interact and engage, but it was all an ACT.  I wasn’t alive anymore.  So I began to get very close to my best friend, alcohol.  I knew what I was doing wasn’t right, and didn’t need to be yelled at;  I needed to be loved, to be supported to be carried, since I could no longer carry myself. I needed empathy…not  sympathy or antipathy.

I “unsheltered” my life in my youth – I exposed myself to some very  harmful, dangerous nouns (people, places, and things), and while I would flip the fuck out if my kids ever did that (because it is sooo different now), I gained a tremendous amount in being able to work with today’s troubled youth.

And sometimes, they are closer than one might think….

Pics ‘n video: Pictures my Maggie shot last night leaving ER and today.  I am hugging, kissing and holding them both as much as I can.  Godsmack’s “Hollow”  ❤

 

Got my Girl to Quoia Cafe right about on time, then same for the Boy.  A good thing to do on your way to work is to stop by the aforementioned cafe for hot cocoa and a croissant.

Obviously no details, but today was The Best Fricking Day Ever At Work.  Much to learn, I know, yet I’m where I belong.

Super tired, I thought, wanted to get that power nap in, but I was too stoked from work. It’s like that “right” person-it just clicks.  Headed to Pipe Works…

…where I conquered that Everest from last time, but was so exhausted I couldn’t make it up past halfway…and so it was for all the 10A’s.  Bleh… Kristen and Aimee: up those walls like nothing.

Home.  Good Friday.

Picture: A place I like to be

A different alarm this morning, birds chirping. Not all alarm clocks have to be bleeping assholes.

It was one of those Monday-Thursdays, my girl had a rough morning and I felt I was critical to her, which never helps the situation. So I apologized to her. Not sure how much that helped, still….  Boy was exuberant, it helps when you have a girlfriend and you’re in love. This couldn’t have happened at a better time.

Today was my two year anniversary at my workplace: I was going to be that exception, I was going to understand the ins-and-outs of working at a nonprofit mental health facility for troubled youth  in six months,  not the 2 to 3 years that established therapists had shared it took them. In the last month or so, things have been coming together, so the timing is just about right. I feel so with it when I manage to get things right, if not a little humbled.

Juvie, then a different office.  After, my key didn’t fit, AND I wasn’t sure of my alarm code…so I had to wait 30 minutes + for the clinical director to drive down from her house in the hills, ensuring the office could be properly locked up.  I was also very hungry…and my burrito was just over there <points directly across freeway – moments away>.  Still, can’t leave the office unlocked…muey no bueno. I texted my kids, explained the sitch, requested some chores be done and waited.  Soon enough, the door was locked, and I was off to burrito heaven…

…where my sweet friend (who works there) tried yet again to set me up once again with the cook, telling me he could help me with mortgage payments.  Ummm…no thank you.  Grabbed my to-go and…that breathtaking moon guided me home, on a silver road through the misty fog.  Hundred year old oaks waved their spindly fingers in the moonlight.  One helluva day.  My eyes are killing me under pressure  .

Pics ‘n vid: My combo – Montessori therapist; My circle squiggles; Under Pressure.  What I wouldn’t give to have been here.  I wonder – if I could see bring one musician back to life (well, I guess it’d have to be two now), I often wavered between Bonham and Mercury (+Bowie)

I slept harder, througher than I have in a long time, but it was still so fucking difficult to get up this morning.  For the first time in a long time, I considered calling in sick, only… I wasn’t sick.  So up I go.

2nd day in a row my son was tardy.  Granted, I wasn’t the lagger, but I also wasn’t the enforcer. Parent-winning card crumpled. 

My world is crumbling; I’m at that point where my vision is weakening and whatever I’m reading needs to be moved back so I can focus.  This means cheaters.   WTF.  I was the only exception.

School site, hall, clinic, home.  I saw a recent client who has been transferred to another therapist.  This is the hula hoop: I can control what goes on in my hoop(self), but not what goes on outside it (everything else), so I think the transfer was wise…only, I’ll miss this client.

Volleyball, despite the treacherous weather.  Highway 50 is closed lower than I’ve ever seen it due to avalanche control, and the rain continues.  Yeah.  Dangerous traveling conditions; torrential rains, high wind, flooding, idiot drivers.  I’m ready to road trip.  This weather is definitely my jam.

Pictures:  A seasonal creek portraying the Mighty Mississippi; Get in the Zone #Autozone.

Ali:  Warm, empathic,  sensitive, graceful.  Or….Ali on the toilet peeing, knocks off the small, almost-gone-but-not-quite-so-don’t-throw-it-away roll of toilet paper from the tank lid, quickly responds, therefore knocking over a box of tampons, which scatter all over the floor.  While leaning over, she can’t see anything because all her wild hair is loose (a 2017 resolution – the hair, not the looseness).  Bare ass up, trying to pick up tampons and toilet paper while peeing.  Some folks may see that first description, yet I know the truth.

It was terrific to get the kids back to school.  It is the beginning of Maggie’s ending – she’ll soon be finished at CMP and move on to high school.  We’ve been at CMP since Ethan was in kindergarten and he’s now in high school.  Time waits for no man nor mom .

I headed to work to get some calls made for new clients.  I think a switch was flipped.  Perhaps Dr. Russo was right and the work he did with my cranium has released a lot of trauma (?? He said this happened), because I feel I’ve been on top of things lately, as if everything makes a helluva a lot of sense. 

I had another hour of personal therapy and then added my hours.  Whereas a year ago I’d wait 4 months before I added my hours up, at this point I know exactly where I stand and add my personal hours daily.  Slowly the end draws near and I am extremely eager, yet the time is better with juvenile hall in the picture.  I really think that is my population (or at least a big part of…).

Just about every single time I come home from work, I realize what great hand I’ve been dealt.  Yes – the teen parts were shaky, and life and limb may have been risked at points, but LOOK what it has become:  My kids and I have a strong relationship.  Yes, shit goes DOWN here, but we deal.  My ex-husband is…my closest friend.  He knows me and tells me like it is.  I have the beginnings of a fabulous career with troubled youth (one of whom I was).  I have a music family that means the world to me and my romantic hibernation is nearing its end.  That and it’s RAINING and I’m in front of a FIRE.  It doesn’t get much better.

Picture: Tracking….