5/10/2016 I’m taking a break from my daughter for a while. I don’t know how long that while will be, but I just about can’t handle her anymore. I can’t really tell anyone because they just won’t understand and will probably judge me as a failure as a mother, so I’m limited to this blog. I’m feeling grateful that I had the forethought to do this when my disappointments and despair first began. As I may have mentioned, she’s planning…
3/7/2016 Where to begin, where to begin . . . I intended to keep up this blog to chronicle my daughter’s transformation to a normal person, but life became so mind blowing at times, that I couldn’t even think about it. Not everything is bad. In fact, most of it is very good. My daughter is 22 now, and generally a very good person. She makes many bad choices still, but she also makes good ones. Let’s see if I…
8/20/2013 I think I’m a grandmother. Before the age of 50, I’m a grandmother. I’ve taught my girls all their lives to wait until they’re in their thirties to get married, have kids, settle down. I’ve encouraged them to see the world, have experiences, live in different places, have different jobs, fall in and out of love many times before they can even begin to know who they are, what they want, and who they want to grow old with….
8/2/2013 Yesterday, my daughter made a big announcement. She’s engaged. Huh? Her boyfriend got on one knee and proposed, and put a ring on her finger. Falling in love and getting engaged are two very special events in a young girl’s life. Dreaming about spending your life with someone special is certainly normal and beautiful. I love that she feels these things after all she’s been through. But my daughter is 19 and her “fiancé” is 23 (I think). That’s…
7/25/2013 I have not seen my daughter since that last time when I realized how skinny she was. I seldom hear from her, and if I call, I don’t get a call back. I don’t know what’s going on with her, and I don’t get answers to my questions (you can’t if they don’t talk to you). She has sent nice text messages telling me how much she loves me and will make up all this lost time. She’ll even…
7/2/2013 So very long since I’ve written about my daughter—or about anything really. I’ve been in a slump, feeling like I’ve failed somehow. I helped my daughter through the pregnancy thing, and she was super motivated to try school again. I fell for it. I paid for two classes, purchased the books, bought her a brand-new computer, paid for a subscription to Adobe Photoshop (which I can’t get out of), and gave her my undying support. In the third to…
12/23/2012 On Friday, I was feeling rather troubled about all that I had learned about my daughter’s secret life, and tried to go about my business anyway. I met my boyfriend at the gym to try and get out some stress. However, I truly had zero energy and my heart wasn’t in a workout. I still managed to spend 30 minutes on the treadmill with him, during which time I told him about the mugshot and school and her car….
12/21/2012 After writing that last post and knowing I need to know what I don’t want to know, I searched for arrest records for my throwing-away-her-life daughter. I found her mugshot first. Since this is really new business for me, I first examined the picture to see if she looked remorseful. To my relief, she didn’t look rebellious, she looked really upset, even a little scared. I though she actually looked beautiful—too beautiful to be on a mugshot page with…
12/21/2012 I wasn’t too thrilled when my daughter told me she was moving out again, but she made all the arrangements and really seemed to be ready to go. She has a hard time living with me and maintaining all her secrets, I guess. She’s been out of the house for a couple of weeks, but most of her clothes and toiletries are still in my house. Not a great segue, but yesterday at work I happened to be scrolling…
11/27/2012 My formerly troubled daughter is moving out again. This time, she’s not in trouble, she’s not moving in with a boyfriend, and she’s not angry. She’s simply ready to move out and be out from under my iron fist. Ha. Iron fist. Since she moved home in the summer, I’ve barely seen her and she chooses not to make time for me. Sure, we’ve had a lunch or two, but she seldom comes home before four in the morning….