I guess I have always been one of those people who would sooner kill someone than have someone I love suffer.

I have a lot of suffering loved ones around me right now and that makes me sad. And no, I'm not really going to go out and kill someone, but lately that thought has crossed my mind.

I can't believe I bought that SOB a nice dinner once.

I got the girl on Friday.

God, I'm old.

I feel appalled by a 15 year old who knows what kind of beer she likes and mentions that between her pregnant friend and her, she was sure she'd be the first to get pregnant.

Winnie the FlippinPooh, what?

She's kind of on limitations...no phone calls except to her mom, and no one else for a week.

We changed the phone bill to be a standard charge for all calls and I'm keeping her busy doing stuff. It's just hard. I feel like things should be much more exciting. And they're not.

Today we did get thunderstorms for most of the day and a fair amount of rain with snow on the mountains. First week of summer, my big white buttochs.

I'm feeling overwhelmed by teenagerhood. I'm glad Bear's just in puberty. It's not as tenuous.

Well, after much back and forth with Pauline and her daugher, I'm going to go pick up her daughter (A) on Friday because Pauline has the day off and it works out best for me to do that. She's going to stay until August, but after talking with her daughter, I'm feeling better about it.

She's apparently having friend trouble and Pauline is worried about her getting into some kind of cat fight thing and going back to Juvenile Hall. A's been getting a lot of shit that resembles Mexican girl gang material and Pauline thinks that just removing her daughter from the situation will defuse it. I think it will help and it would be nice to have help this summer with the kids and getting the house together. One thing I'd like to do is finish the painting and I could do that if someone kept an eye on Genny for me. The drag is that A needs glasses because her dad never bothered to get the ones they left at a doctor's office for reference and never bothered to get her new ones even though she has insurance. I'm going to have to fill out paperwork for Medicaid for her while she's here. I wish we could just cover her under Mike's insurance, but his company probably won't cover that.

After posting despondently on my kids's list, I got a lot of great suggestions, so the boy and I sat down and made a schedule. We have a schedule for most of the summer, including swim lessons, visit to museums, water parks, see movies, go to the big local lake, take small hikes, etc. We have stuff planned for the summer, such that when I got to the week of August 19th, when I start my grad assistantship, Russell groaned in disappointment at the prospect of me going back to work -- totally cool that my 9 year old thinks it's cool to hang out with Mom.

The library has cool stuff going on on Thursday evenings, so I library day will be then, which will work nicely around their swimming lesson schedules.

---

Lately, I've been wondering about Pauline. I wondered why I hadn't heard from her, assumed she must be getting laid, and thought about calling her, but then got busy.

This weekend I got a message from her, so I called her back and left a message. Then she phone-tagged me back today, and I called her and caught her. Her sons have grown up and moved out and her daughter had been living with her father, Pauline's ex-something. The middle boy had had an altercation, where he defended himself against getting hit by his father and then his father called the cops, had the kid dumped into Juvenile Hall for assaulting him. The kid got a slap on the wrist and went and lived with Pauline afterwards. Her daughter, however, has stayed with Daddy because he turns a blind eye to her doing whatever her teenage head dreamed up. Well, finally, dad decided to hit his daughter and when the girl stood up to him and fought back, he tried the same routine and had her in Juvenile Hall for three weeks. When it came to court, however, he had the same judge, who looked at him and said,"One kid maybe, but two kids can't be bad. You're the one common denominator" and the judge tossed the case out. However, apparently, despite the fact that she's living with her mom and social services has designated her with some kind of numbering that means they understand that her custody is in limbo, her custody is still with the father.

Enter Pauline's phone call. Pauline works nights and she can't keep on top of a willful horny 15 year old with problems. Apparently, she ran up Pauline's phone bill several hundred $ calling much older males in the Bay Area. Pauline is struggling as it is, so an extravagant phone bill is a ball breaker. so she's asked Mike and I to take her for a month until she can get a week's vacation and spend time setting up a schedule and the like with the girl. She said she needs a break. At first, she'd said a couple weeks, but when I questioned her further, she really meant 5 weeks. *sigh*

I love this kid, but I haven't spent any time around her for nearly 3 years. I know she's been a spoiled little brat for a long time and that Pauline is hoping I'll blow money we don't have on this kid, but I can't. We're on a different budget without me working. What we said is that we'd take it a day at a time with her. I said if things were going well, she could stay, but that if things starting going funky, we'd ship her back to Pauline.

I'm very concerned about the custody issues, so I'm placing calls to the county social services department where they are from and seeing what I can find out as to what I need to do to protect myself and still let this kid come to "summer camp" on the farm. The biggest fear I have in the back of my mind is that Pauline is planning on ditching her daughter with us. I am not averse to caring for any child, but my feeling is that Pauline needs to face the music and the needs of her child because I won't be party to her breaking her kid's heart.

I've never been a stay-at-home (SAH) mom before. I've always worked. While I've worked at home in the past year or two, it's not the same because I still have someone there watching and playing with the kids while I do my work.

I've been feeling really stressed out because I simply don't know what to do with the kids. It's kind of like one big weekend all the time. I get to sleep in with them and we snuggle and giggle in bed, make and eat breakfast together and then what? On the weekends, Mike and I are cleaning, washing, and doing house stuff one day, typically, and then the other, we screw around, watch TV, go out to a movie, or play miniature golf or something. I am having a hard time figuring out how I am supposed to get house stuff done, and still keep track of kids, without them being bored senseless in the process somewhere.

I had all of these dreams of doing a load of laundry every day, but as usual, I've got a basket of folded, but not put away stuff sitting in my room and barrels upon barrels out in the garage to get done.

I feel inept at this whole SAH thing. Russell is delighted and he loves to have the time with me, even if he has been fighting me over every little stinking damned thing -- med transitions suck. Today, after I'd come >< close to strangling him, I made him go into his room, lay on his bed and close his eyes for "at least one hour." 1.5 hours later, he came out and was as nice as pie to me. I guess I called it.

Part of the problem today is that I had to get Russell up to town for a haircut and a dentist appointment, so I got out of the house without my meds and that just made for a lot more foggybrainedness than perhaps was necessary.

Tomorrow, I start walking with the kids every day. It'll be good for all of us.

My darling boy was getting too much medication, apparently, so we are backing off his ritalin a bit and adding in some strattera, which was a prozac knockoff that didn't work for most folks. Then they discovered that it worked in ADHD people. Unfortunately, it does little for focus, but does help behavioral issues wonderfully. My doctor says that a combo of the two is believed to be the future of ADHD meds. Oh, yay. More drugs.

I really wish I could just take him off the meds and have him be something other than a raging psycho. Because when he doesn't take the meds, that's what he is. And mind you, I love him and think he's an adorable little boy with gorgeous big brown eyes, and about the smartest kid on the planet, but I know what he's like when he doesn't take his meds, and honestly, you wouldn't know him when he's without meds.

I keep trying to tell myself that I could weather it through...just take him off the meds and use alternative means, but it would mean a lot of suffering for all of us. I finally came to the conclusion that medication sometimes is to reduce suffering. I remember back when he was grounded all the time in the days before meds. And I wasn't mean and I didn't spank him, but I had to do something, so he lost privileges. Now, he gets grounded only for a day at a time once in a great while -- not the months and months that it used to be. In order to take him off meds, I'd have to take away things he likes: the TV, the Gameboy, the computer, and movies. I don't want to take away things he likes and cares about. He likes how he is in control when he takes the meds. Sometimes he thinks the meds are what make him. I keep explaining that they are just a tool for him to use to figure out the person he would like to become.

He likes that idea. Honestly, so do I.

Okay, so I've had a week off from painting and now, I'm all feeling ready to hump a paint can again. What's up with that? I told Mike that and while he promised not to laugh, I don't think I've seen a look of that large dose of disdain in some time. It bordered on the "just how fucking crazy are you, woman?" look.

I have all but the kids' bathroom and the kitchen done. I have this idea in my head to paint the kids' bathroom white and sponge bright yellow over it, which would actually be kind of neat. It'll bright and cheery in a room with no window.

We bought a pool this week and I kept telling Mike that it needed to be on a flat surface and it's slopping heavily to one side, and we found what appears to be a nail trying to poke through the bottom of it. So we're watering the garden with it and then we'll relevel things. Mike wants desperately to put everything on cement. Cement is expensive, I've tried to explain, but then we're both in do-it-yourself mode and have delusions of gradeur about figuring it out and having this wonderful cement surface which would surround the pool and allow for sunning and make the sand elsewhere. But of course, he thought if we didn't use chlorine that the filter would take care of things. Today he saw all the clouding and realized the error of his ways and so we're watering.

Often, lately, in the course of watering, I've been finding lizards. And usually I think lizards are pretty cute and stuff, but these are pretty good sized and they give me the willies a little. I try not to let on about that to Russell because if I gave him the faintest reason to suspect that they freak me out, he'd be more freaky-deaky about things that crawl and bite and squirm than usual. I swear -- today we were floundering about in the pool and Russell said something about a snake. I playfully slid a styrofoam noodle by his shoulder and told him to watch out for the snake and he jumped three feet into the air.

I don't like snakes, but I just back away and that's that. He actively worries about coming across his next snake. *sigh*

Harsh Betty sent me five questions for an early Friday five familiar.

1. Name something which you spent a lot of time doing / dealing with /
   experiencing a year ago, but it's no longer a big part of your life today.
   
   
   Having, maintaining, dealing with a JOB, in particular a job I totally hated with every fiber, molecule, atom, and subatomic structure of my being. I get up for myself, for my kids, for my husband, for my house, for my own selfish and nefarious purposes. I water my plants, feed my chickens, feed my kids, take a shower, have sex with my husband, and I LOVE it! No, and I don't just mean the sex, though that's definitely fun.
   
   
2. Name one thing you regret doing, and another that you regret *not*
   doing.
   
   I dunno. I guess I feel like regret is a guilt trip I choose not to take most of the time. I regret leaving New England sometimes. I miss my family -- my parents, brother, and grandparents and assorted family live there and I miss them a lot. I regret not sticking to my exercise plan. It has really sucked to do the yo-yo weight thing. A lot. I'm changing that, but it's an ongoing battle and I hate that.
   
   
3. Was there anybody other than a member of your immediate family who had a
   big influence on you when you were a kid? Who was it, and how did they
   influence you?
   
   
   Mrs. Barbara Cohen, my 12th grade English teacher. She encouraged me in my writing and was the sole reason I majored in English. Ever. Or even showed another soul on the entire planet my poetry and writing. She is the reason I consider myself a writer now. I loved her, her class, and while she was considered a battleaxe by some, I adored her because she empowered me.
   
   
4. What, for you, didn't live up to all the hype?
   
   Star Wars, Episode 2. Could it have been any more schmarmy? Yeesh!
   
   
5. What's the best thing, within reason, that could happen with the rest of
   the day? (obviously it would be great to find out you'd won a $100 million
   lottery, had accidentally cured cancer and perfected cold fusion, and Kevin
   Costner is on his way over with a bottle of champagne and another of massage
   oil ... but be a little more realistic, ok?)
   
   That the house would become spotless, the shelving installed appropriately, the fridge cleaned so that the smell went away, the kitchen cleaned with decorations hung, the pool filled without depleting the well, and my room and bathroom cleared of boxes --unpacked or not, and that despite their chaotic, destructive tendencies, the children would not fight like cats and dogs nor thrash my clean house.. Oh, and that my husband would use the massager to rub my shoulders and back at days's end as foreplay to foreplay.
   
   I'm betting I'll get everything except the kids fighting and thrashing.

My darling son is so smart and wonderful and such a hard worker. I don't say this because I'm biased, though I am. I say this because he just made honor roll with a 3.42. He is so thrilled and I am thrilled blind for him.

It's amazing when you finally see them winning. He's happy and I am delirious to watch him.

I painted the bathroom over the weekend. I'd started it last week with kind of a light olive green thinking it would be okay, but it was too dark and icky. So I sponged light blue over it from the Oops! paint from Home Depot and now it looks amazing. We also bought a two bulb light instead of retaining the 8 bulb vanity energy wasting bar of death and now I have the most amazing looking bathroom. Mike's started taping the kitchen, which means that I should paint it. I realize that sounds insane, but think Field of Dreams,"If you build it they will come" but more like "If you tape it, she will paint" and you've got it.

I have a fortune in garden plants sitting in the driveway. I started planting my garden by laying out the marigolds and the fucking wild bunnies have been eating them. I'm going to get me a big ass bunny trap and catch me some bunnies and then drop them off in nearby state park land, where I hope they get eaten by coyotes. Bastards. I never thought bunnies would touch marigolds...I mean, nothing will. I even buried them in blood meal and I saw the buck-toothed varmit eating them yesterday. To be fair, he looked very skinny, but I think I'm going to trap him and release him on state park land a mile or two away. I just hope bunnies aren't like cats and that this little SOB doesn't find his way home.

The housewarming party is this weekend. I think I finally have a handle on Genny's room. The problem is that there is this big box of crap in her room that she would mostly never miss if it were to say...um...mysteriously disappear into the big garbage can in the sky. Stuff like Happy Meal toys, baby plastic beads, etc. In fact, most of it would be better to be given to goodwill than returned to her room, so I'm going to work something out with Mike, so that this box of crap just disappears back into the garage or something. We'll sort through it when she's in bed and retain the good stuff and put the rest in a box for goodwill.

Russell's room needs shelves. Well, Russell just needs something. We increased his meds a little, but he's been truly awful lately -- forgetful, can't follow directions, needing things repeated 20 times, etc. I do not want to call the doctor and say that he needs a meds increase, but lord, he needs something because he's just not himself. The truly telltale sign is that his room isn't just messy, it's completely and totally thrashed. I told him he couldn't play gameboy or watch TV until his room was clean. Ugh.

I'm still tired...way tired, but Mike's been really supportive (and horny) about letting me sleep (after sex). He's done dishes (after being nagged to death) and has been really super (grumpy and curmudgeonly) about going to Home Depot to get materials and make repairs.