9/26/2012 How does so much time go by? Life changes so quickly and I keep forgetting to chronicle all the adventures and important minutiae.
As of August 1, 2012, my formerly troubled teen moved back in with me. I asked her to, believe it or not. I didn’t like the way she was living—her apartment was dirty and, even though I went over to clean it every now and again, it was painful to see how gross she decided to be. It was also very stressful for her to live there because of the rent and the dismal neighborhood.
And the loneliness.
After the doofus, loser boyfriend moved out and left her to deal with the rent and upkeep herself, she was alone there in a two-bedroom apartment. Even though the complex was new-ish and the unit was nice, the clientele was nasty. I think her next-door neighbor was a prostitute or, at the very least, a drug dealer. I got a second-hand buzz just by knocking on my daughter’s door. Her building was next to a vacant lot that was used for discarding old mattresses and beer bottles and heroin needles (probably). And because she didn’t have a car, she had to walk around these places to go to work and to the corner convenience store.
I couldn’t take it anymore and she was not thriving. So I encouraged her to come home—and she agreed that it was a good idea. This way she could get a car and go to community college and not have the weight of the world on her hands. It took a thousand trips back to the apartment to get her things, and eviction notices, but she’s out of there. It’ll be a mark on her credit, but her well being is more important.
So, is it working? Yes. She’s much happier and calmer and she lives in a safe, clean environment. She has food in the fridge, company when she needs it (me), a nice room to sleep in, and a fast computer to use for school. She’s taking two classes that she loves, and is much more relaxed. We spend time talking and have even taken some lovely road trips together so she can take photographs. I truly enjoy our special days together. We talk like adults and work things out without arguing and yelling. We’ve both learned to be patient and listen—and not react so much. Sometimes, I think she’s better at it than I am. I think her new boyfriend (of five months or so) has taught her how to be a friend. I may not approve of him overall, but it’s possible that he’s been good for her. She’s never had a relationship (with a guy or a friend) that has lasted so long and is still positive.
The only snag is that she collected some cats while she was on her own, two extra kittens that are screwing up my life. They’ve scratched and peed and vomited and meowed and annoyed me to the point where I feel like I’m under siege by two creatures that weigh less than my running shoes. She also brought back the old cat that she took with her—and he’s nasty and mean, and has chased away my sweet female cat. That’s our issue, which seems like nothing compared to the old ones—drugs, promiscuity, attitude, and badness. I prefer this.