Or why parenting is sometimes heart-wrenchingly shitty.
Fuck me. Fuck me and the goat I rode in on. Fucking God Damn I feel like a Piece of Shit.
um maybe this needs to be in the pit just for the lingo
I’ve been in close communication with the Fosterling and His Mom this week. He’s 15 now, this past December. Tensions at Casa-Ex are higher than normal. (Teenage boy with ADD/ADHD<can’t keep them straight in my head>, single mom) It seems the boy let his pickle get him in a pickle and talk of criminal charges is being bandied about.
Do I believe he’s innocent? No, I don’t, my son is not an angelic snowflake.
I digress from my original thought chain.
Mom and I briefly considered the idea of having him move in with me for the rest of the school year. Give Mom a break, get him physically away from something I’m somewhat certain isn’t going to go or end well for him etc.
I was somewhat open, to discussing the idea at least, to begin. The more we talked about it though, the more I realized he would just be doing the same shit here, with a fresh unsuspecting group of people.
I got enough drama in my life with Vaderling et al. I don’t need or want Fosterlings crap in my nest as well(anymore than it is already)
12 years ago there was a little boy who’s father had abandoned him before he was even born. 12 years ago that little boy asked if he could call me Dad too, just like his older brothers did and that year je gave me his prized Hotwheels Car as a Christmas Gift. I still have it and look at it often. His Mom and I talked it over and we said, “Yes, you can call me Dad.” I made a commitment and took on some level of responsibility for him that day. Today, when he’s feeling very low and that everyone is either against him or abandoning him, I feel like I’ve let him down and ripped his heart out. There are lessons children must learn. Not all children learn the same lessons. Some of those lessons are cruel. Very cruel, and not just to the pupil.
Fuck I feel like shit.