[Sca-cooks] Mr Picky update, was Mo+ie way 00P

[Laura C. Minnick]

At 07:44 PM 4/21/02 +0000, you wrote:

>How's your son doing, by the way?
>Olwen, who likes you too.

*sigh*
I shoulda been born Jewish, then I could go into the whole speech about how
he'll be the death of me, etc, etc, like they useda do in tv comedy, before
everything was about reproductive or excretory functions...

Stephen is not doing well. I talked to him a little yesterday- I called
because I was wondering if he'd gotten an appointment yet and with whom. I
got the usual monosyllables. He hadn't made the appointment. Why "N'dunno".
You need to do it Stephen- you won't feel better until you do it. "Mmm.
Nh-huh." His dad is still in the "Whaddya expect me to do about it?" (BE a
PARENT, for chrissake!) I talked to Annie for a few minutes, and she said
Stephen's hunkered over the computer playing games, or closed in his room,
sleeping or doing nothing. He won't talk to anyone unless it's to yell at
Lydia. She doesn't know if he's going to school but then there haven't been
any calls from the attendance computer that she's found. She said he'd
perked up while I was there but slid back down again. Great. More guilt. I
told her if he doesn't call and make his appointment, that she should do
it, on my behalf. Lie if she has to. (She sounds just like me on the
phone.) I can't just drive down whenever, and my going down last weekend
will be moot if he doesn't follow up. I KNOW that being depressed is why he
can't make himself follow up, but still...

And I'm suffering mondo guilt and tearing my hair out. I'd thought teenage
boys were about fast cars and fast girls and getting busted for graffiti
and stuff. I never imagined I would be fighting a foe that I can't even
see, one that is chewing up my son. I fight this enough myself.

Sorry. Mommy angst. Back to your Moxie...

'Lainie
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A ship is safe in a harbor- but that's not what a ship is for...