August 25, 2015

Confession:  There is the distinct possibility that I tested  the chocolate cookies.  About 9 times.  It wasn’t all at once, rather one, here, another there, grab three, grab three more.  I hate myself sometimes.  As for Jake, he will surely divorce me <if he ever finds out, but I find an air of mystery to be healthy>.  I haven’t even been to the gym since last Thursday.

After I dropped the kids off, I dropped the box of cookies off at my brother-in-law’s gun store.  He came to the door as I was pulling away, so I stopped and went to give him a hug.  Seems Jonathon was helping tear down the wall inside so they could open it up and put a gun safe in that area.  Now Jeff will have to continue on his own.  Again, my heart is wrenched in pain, as I cannot fathom the pain.  I hope I will never have to.

Off to supervisor and business at hand.  I am centering my attention on trauma-focused therapy and narrative therapy, which is a manner of re-telling your story to help change your perception, of yourself, your life, etc.  This is something I have down with myself for almost as long as I can remember.  At times, I have this “habit” on looking at myself and my situations from a different point of view rather than just my own (if that makes sense).  I have long told myself that my life is my story and to experience many different things.  At points of my life, this was not always a safe thing, but when difficult situations arose, I was able to make the most out of it  - though not always immediately.  After a very excellent supervision, I headed in to write up progress notes and Do Stuff.    I may  have left certain items here and there amongst my people.  As I left, I sang to Kylee and Carrie a song of love, a song of sorrow at leaving… a song of…something that rhymed.  I was kinda badass.

Off to go pay bills, take care of necessary errands.  Eventually, it was time to get my driver’s record for the school field trip this weekend at the DMV, but the line was wayyy too long and I needed be at a meeting at the school at 5, so that couldn’t happen today.  Tomorrow, after I drop the kids off and before my 10 o’clock (which is rescheduled from Friday so I can go).  I pull up to school and get a call from the school, saying I don’t have enough insurance out on the cars.  Dial up the ol’ insurance lady and up that the necessary amount and…off to the campus.   The meeting was short, fast.  I sat next to a man who I did not recognize at all, but he knew me and commented that he hadn’t seen me in a while.  To my recollection, I had never seen him before, but surely, somewhere…I must have, because he knew me.  The tattoo looked vaguely familiar, but it clearly wasn’t Dave Grohl, so …?  No idea.

Headed home with my tribe after a quick stop to Big 5 to grab a tent and stuff for the kid’s sports.  Ethan & I got into argument already over his homework and a binder full of empty pages.  It is time to start reaching out to teachers and get the pattern set.  The attitude, though.  In his defense, flag football exhausts him and he has come home every day this week, all 2 of them, and almost fallen asleep.  Oh, man….

Pictures:  Tuesday water-day during the drought;  A potato baby for Jen; Speck und Bohnen, one of my favorite times was "Bohnen schallen" <snipping ends of green beans>.  I got to do that with a real knife when I was 4.