April 7, 2021

 

Journal: April 7, 2021

Day one the Betty Challenge was good on effort but an utter fail.

Mike agreed to wake up at an ungodly hour in the morning to do a YouTube video a day about the lawn care.  He's utterly amazing, not just as a human being but the depth and warmth of his character comes across in youtube land.  

And I had a complete failure recording my podcast while the bluetooth headphone was engaged.  It was really fun recording space for 20 minutes.

I substitute taught for Mr. Hotchkiss class yesterday.  A boy stood by his desk and threw pencils in the wastebasket.  I kept hearing a thudding sound.  Upon closer examination I thoroughly gave myself permission to freak out.  

I said:

"Hey, we are not going to do this."

The student responded:

"What are you going to do, call the principal?  These are my pencils.  I can throw them in the trash can if I want to.  Mr. Hotchkiss let me do it."

To which I said:

"What part of me looks like Mr. Hotchkiss to you?  I'm here today and he's not.  I don't allow that in my class."

So we did the court thing at 1:30pm during my planning period.

It was dizzying.  The judge said a lot of legal mumbo jumbo.  Like how are you supposed to follow that unless you speak in those terms.  The proper response was always:

"Yes, your honor."

We did it by Zoom.  I'm not sure about my takeaway.

I am a pretty shrewd negotiator.  I'm not sure that I could define my feelings toward Chris and Cathy.  Are they the despised enemy or the salvation?

If I'm unsure then I have to go into porcupine protocol which is to keep everyone at a distance until things make themselves apparent.

Regarding Breeanna she's not in trouble.  I mean there is sufficient food and clothing and shelter.  Cathy is amazing with people and Breeanna can only thrive alongside her.  Bree is a realist.  She is incredibly bright.  She is also incredibly manipulative.  I wouldn't put anything past her.  My daughter is a force.  

The bus ride home was dreary and crowded.  A moment of adoration fell upon us when a cute little three year old boarded with her nana.  Everybody's hearts melted.  

For dinner I've decided that I'm a soup person.  I struggled opening the soup can.  The can opener from the dollar store does not yield perfectly cut edges.  I had to work the large serrated kitchen knife on the uncut portions.

Kidney beans, ham and canned vegetable soup.  

I wrote to Mike:

"I'm usually right.  

There's no denying it.  It's in the science textbooks.

If you look at human history we have been around for 3,000,000 years and really we only live a few more years than rats.

We are not that special.

There is an expiration date.

My child is not that special.

She'll be fine.

I've done my best.

Now.  It's a matter of legacy.

I discarded my mother.

My child discards me.

All is fair in love and war.

I'm not sure that she is choosing that or merely following a directive.

Children follow what you do, not what you say.

I might tell her that my relationship to her is really special.

But how did I treat my mom?

Surely granted, my situation with my mom was extraordinary.

How could my daughter understand that?  She's only fourteen.

Nothing matters.

The only thing that matters is my example.

Nobody cares about context in which events unfold.

The brain does not mature until 24 years of age.

My daughter can be as much of a fuck up as she desires to be.  We all have that prerogative.

God knows I've set a trail of fire for her to follow.

My daughter is safe.  What more can a mother want?

Bree is one mother fucker of a bad ass.  If you're messing with Breeanna put on your battle gear.

What about me?  I am less than. I am less than a child whom a mother ever wanted."

I told Mike that if I cry I know my eyes are going to be swollen tomorrow.

Mike said:

"We are the universe.  We are expressions of the universe."