Tag Archives: Family

Telling Lauren about grandma’s diagnosis

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Lauren, now age 16, has been in the loop about my mom’s diagnosis since we received it. I thought she understood…

A few weeks ago, when my mom was staying at our house, B and I went to a concert that we had tickets for since December. Lauren remained home with mom. I asked Lauren to watch a movie with my mom while we were gone. I told mom they would watch a movie together. Mom was looking forward to it.

The next day, we asked Lauren what movie they watched. They didn’t watch a movie. Instead, Lauren played on her phone, and mom napped on the couch before going to bed.

I stewed over that all day.

I picked up Lauren from work the night after the concert, and I said, “Why didn’t you watch a movie last night? I really wanted you and grandma to have some time together.”

“She wouldn’t say what she wanted to watch. She kept dozing off,” Lauren replied.

I turned to her in the parking lot.

“Lauren, decisions are really hard for her now. You should have just put something on. Anything. I really wanted you two to have some good memories before things get worse. You realize things are going to get bad, right?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked horrified.

“She’s not going to get better,” I said.

Lauren started to cry.

“Do you know what dementia is?” I asked.

“I thought I did. But I thought she was going to get better,” she said.

Full tears from both of us at this point.

I explained the neurologist said she’s like a teenager now. She will continue to regress in age until she has no control over bodily functions or speech.

“She’s not going to forget us, isn’t she? I don’t want her to forget me,” Lauren said, full blown sobbing.

“She may not remember our names, but we will remember,” I said through tears.

“How long does she have?”

“I don’t know. Could be years, could be less, could be a little more.”

“I just want her to come to my high school graduation,” she said.

“If she can, she will be there.”

We held each other in the parking lot for a few minutes, then I drove us home.

Lauren and my mom have always been close. Mom moved in with us right after my dad died, and mom became Lauren’s caregiver while I worked. Mom moved with us to Wisconsin, and she continued that role – and while I was with my previous employer, mom was with Ethan and Lauren more than they were with me. Even after mom moved to her own condo, she picked up Lauren every day from school and helped her with homework. Mom was a constant as I went through cancer. Mom is Lauren’s godmother (LONG story). The two are the best buddies, and it’s awesome to see them cuddle up with each other or hold each other’s hands.

And when the time comes, Lauren’s grief will destroy me (much like Ethan’s grief when my dad died – oh, and the WAIL he let out during my dad’s funeral – broke my heart).

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As I write this, I’m in full-blown tears, and snot is flowing. (EDIT: reading it again before posting caused another waterfall.

Through Mike’s death and my cancer (and now my mom’s diagnosis), the one constant that made me ugly cry was the effect on my kids.

I need help, but maybe not THIS help

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So since September, I’ve been the only one getting mom to/from appointments, managing her banking and bills, coordinating all her errands, and keeping her out of trouble (my god, the text and phone scams! THREE times since Thanksgiving, I’ve stopped her from giving information to her “bank” via phone calls.)

But be careful what you wish for…

Mom had cataract surgery number one in April. Surgery on a Tuesday, follow up early morning on Wednesday. The follow up appointment conflicted with my teaching schedule, so I knew I couldn’t do it. My sister decided she would come out for a week.

Julie has never visited mom since my dad died. She’s SEEN my mom a few times, mostly at family funerals, but she never visited when we lived near St. Louis, and she’s never been to Wisconsin (we moved here in late 2011). FYI: she lives in Pennsylvania now and is remarried. She remains the same as she’s always been.

I let my sister and my mom have time together for the week. Julie sent several texts during that time expressing her concerns about things that have been happening for years (i.e., mom’s eating only once or twice a day) and things that have been discussed with the doctor (i.e., living independently). I was short but pleasant in my replies, but I was frustrated.

If Julie had been involved more (or at all), she’d know what “normal” was.

She went back home, and mom and I resumed our routine. When I went over the day after Julie left, mom was a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were funny, speech slurred, walk wobbly. After asking several questions, she said she took one of the THC gummies that Julie brought her, thinking it would help her sleep. I asked to see the packaging. It was a VERY high strength gummy, definitely much, much, much more than someone who doesn’t partake should take. I confiscated the drugs.

Then it was time for the second eye. Again, this was taking place during my semester, and because I took on an additional class in the spring, my time was very limited. In a pre-surgery meeting with the doc, I asked if we could move the surgery. No, schedule full until October. I asked if there was an alternative to the early Wednesday appointment. There was a possibility of an afternoon appointment, but the doc was REALLY not enthusiastic about it – it would involve him staying an hour past his usual time to leave.

Mom decided to call her brother to see if he could help.

My uncle is married to Jessica. It’s his third? Fourth? Marriage? And this woman is a piece of work. She’s also besties with Julie…

Uncle and Jessica came to support the second surgery, and left after a few days. Life was back to normal for me and mom.

Like Julie, these two really haven’t been involved. They’ve at least come up to see mom few times since we lived here, but they’re not in the know.

(I have a problem with my uncle that goes back a few years to when my grandfather died. He was executor of the will, and all four siblings and spouses (with my dad dead since 2010, mom was alone during all this with her siblings having their SOs to lean on) were involved with cleaning out the house after the funeral. More than once in those weeks, mom called me in tears. Her brother was screaming at her for this or that. Mom recommended getting an estate attorney to help make sure everything was done correctly (it was a decent size estate). He screamed about how lawyers will just take money that should be for the siblings. Super not cool.)

(I have issues with Jessica, as she’s a gossipy busy body, involved in everyone’s business, and then running to tell it to everyone. She’s human ick. She’s a shit stirrer – like my sister, she has no issues with making up stories and trying to start drama. And she thinks she knows everything. I’m not saying high school drop outs are dumb, but I’m not putting my health in their hands. Because she worked (for thirty seconds) in a medical-adjacent field – in the same role and at same employer as my teenage son’s first-ever job – she thinks she’s on the same level as physicians. When my grandfather was sick, she went into his hospital room, wiped his white board clean saying “this isn’t best practice” and started to lecture the nurses… Uncle and Jessica live in a small house, perfect for the two of them, but she moved in two of her three daughters, their current baby daddies, and all their kids. It’s a 3 bed, 2 bath, 1,800 square foot home with about a dozen people and several dogs in it. No one, not even Jessica, cooks or cleans, and the daughters don’t pay rent. She inserts herself in places she does not belong. She won’t let my uncle answer the phone alone or run an errand by himself. I just can’t understand what her motivation is in what she does. It is not with good intention.)

About a month ago, my mom had a fall when Jessica and uncle were in town. Jessica texted me to let me know that they took her to the ER. She sent this text:

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Here’s the thing. Mom falls. Often. Mom and I were just in to see her primary care doctor the day before, and talked about the tailbone. There wasn’t any concern from the doc.

Seeing “just an fyi” made me think it was another fall. No big deal. I didn’t get worked up. I didn’t get excited. It happens. She’s broken bones before. If it was serious, I figured the hospital would have admitted her (she has GREAT insurance) or uncle and Jessica would have CALLED ME when it was happening. But I just received this text, and I didn’t react. Then Julie called and TOLD me that I had to figure out what to do when Jessica leaves because “mom can’t stay alone.”

For the last month, mom has shuffled between her house (with uncle and Jessica) and my house. I can’t sleep or stay for long at her house because she smokes in it, and with a scarred lung from cancer treatments, it’s not good for me. And then I finally asked the question: who said she can’t stay alone?

Was it a doctor? And did they mean for a few days after the ER visit or longer term? Was it Julie or Jessica that decided she can’t stay alone? And does mom have an opinion? While she’s still able, I want to allow her to make decisions for herself. So I asked mom. She didn’t remember anyone saying that, and said she’d be fine staying by herself. So we made plans for this week – uncle and Jessica were in town through Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday, mom would stay alone. Uncle and Jessica would be back on Thursday. Uncle and Jessica, upon learning that mom would NOT be coming to my house Tuesday and Wednesday, decided to stay for the full week, cancelling their original plans.

In their most recent visit (THIS visit), this was the interaction captured on our front door cam after Jessica came into my home to pick up my mom (who was already back in her house, since Jessica was supposed to be here hours earlier) and ask questions about another ER visit after vitals during her in-home physical therapy appointment were really low (uneventful ER visit, nothing to report other than a heart monitor for 48 hours to see if there was anything unusual).

Jessica’s tirade (listen with sound):

I answered her questions while making dinner. I wasn’t rude – this time. Admittedly, I’ve been RUDE to this woman, but not on this day. B and Lauren were in the room and agreed that the interaction didn’t warrant this level of response. So I responded by texting her the video:

No response, but in the days since, she will RUN out of a room when I walk in. Honestly, I want to tell Jessica that the fucking bitch in me recognizes the fucking bitch in her, and that we shouldn’t act performatively anymore. It’s in the open. We don’t like each other. But I’ll just have to settle for not interacting with her in person or by text any more (uncle is now the person who texts me updates). So, winning?

Also, WTF with uncle, in the passenger seat, saying “what now?” and doing literally nothing else.

Update and diagnosis: a new chapter

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Hi.

Resurrecting this part of the interwebs to deal with the latest life challenge – caregiving.

Let’s start at the beginning, or when we realized there was an issue.

Last summer, mom “lost” two or three days. She has no idea where she was or what she was doing. She drove, that much she was aware, and she hit something as evidenced by a long scratch down the side of the GMC Acadia.

It was weird, but I didn’t think too much of it.

In September, while I was in Indiana at my alma mater, B received a call from my mom. “I’ve been discharged. Come get me,” she said.

“Joy? Where are you?” he asked.

“I called an ambulance to take me to the ER, and now they’re letting me go so I need a ride home,” mom said.

B had to leave work (late night event) after her call; he picked her up and drove her home. That’s when we became aware of the condition of her home.

I hadn’t been in her house in months. No reason to.

Dishes hadn’t been done in some time. Laundry was stacked in her room. Piles of opened and unopened mail around the living room. There was a path from the front door to the kitchen. It was bad. Jack and Lauren went over the next day to clean; I met them there.

Mom called the ambulance because of a fall. She had been falling a lot. So much that I really didn’t even react when she told me about her latest fall.

After the “lost days” incident, she gave me her keys and decided she shouldn’t drive any more. I took her to all doctors’ appointments and physical therapy. It was basically twice a week from September to the holidays.

The incident also forced the discovery of mold in her basement. The smell was overwhelming, and while there wasn’t evidence of water, there was some mold on the ceiling tiles, and it was obvious there were issues. I pulled a bookshelf away from the wall, and the carpet underneath was black. When it started and how long it had been going on, we’ll not know.

We started the mold mitigation process in December, and she stayed with us while treatments were unleashed on the house to kill any spores.

Mom also stayed with us at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Her demeanor was strange. She wasn’t herself.

These were not good visits. She didn’t leave the room (we had her staying in my office since it’s on the first floor, across from a bathroom). She didn’t really interact with us. She came out for meals, said only a few words, and that was it.

At Christmas, I lost it. I got so frustrated with her “giving up” attitude that I left. Got in the car and drove off. Then I turned around (about one block from home). I came back because I wasn’t just going to walk away. I was going to confront this.

I told her that she was giving up, that I didn’t know if it was extreme depression or what, but it wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t her.

She told me I didn’t listen well, and I was mean. Fair.

B took her home.

Mom and I didn’t talk for a few weeks. When she was leaving, she said she’d have a neighbor take her to the doctor and to run errands for her. My aunt (mom’s sister) called me a few weeks after the incident. My aunt asked what happened, and I told her. She listened and said I needed to do what was right for me and that I needed to protect my own health and family. She told mom to apologize to me and to knock it off.

Mom and I started talking again.

In January, we got the diagnosis that changed everything. Her neurologist referred her to a neuropsychologist. I took her to both of the appointments. When the neuropsych called me back to review the results of her hours long test, I knew things were bad.

He showed me the results – a couple of dot-to-dots (follow the numbers in order), draw this image over here, remember these words. The things I could see (dot-to-dot, image drawing) were disturbingly incorrect. He diagnosed her with mild dementia. Fuck.

The diagnosis was horrible to hear, but it was actually good news. I changed my approach immediately. She couldn’t help how she was acting. I couldn’t confront her anymore. I needed to be gentle, understanding, helpful. I needed to start researching.

First day of school tears (for me)

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Obligatory first day photo shoot.

Ethan and Lauren started school today. Sixth and first grades. And I cried.

I don’t remember crying when they went to preschool or kindergarten, but this year was different – and super emotional. The kids are going to a new school. Each to a different school, actually. And I’m happy and I’m sad and I feel completely and utterly overwhelmingly guilty.

When Mike and I decided to have kids – actually before that – we agreed that we wanted the kids to have a Catholic education. It was so important that I converted to Catholicism before we got married so this would be a family thing.

When the kids and I moved here, Mike was fairly involved in the “finding a school” process. We continued to agree that the school should be Catholic. As I looked at areas to live, Mike was looking at schools (via the Interwebs). While he never visited the schools or talked to anyone, he had a say in where our kids would go.

And I really liked the school we chose. Then Mike died.

I’ve written about it before – just weeks into his new school, Ethan was called down to the principal’s office to get the news. His teacher, the principal, the priest, the families made us feel so welcome and so much part of the “school family” in those difficult early days and weeks and months (and beyond). Same when I was diagnosed with cancer. I truly loved love the families at the school.

But…

The school isn’t a good fit for Ethan. That’s hard to think, to write, to say because I did a lot of research to find this school.

 

  • With only a couple of exceptions, school activities are limited to sports-related things, and Ethan’s not sporty. At all. (Plus sports remind him of Mike, who coached Ethan in little league and soccer, so there’s an emotional connection that Ethan associates with sports. And not a good one since Mike was sloppy drunk the last year he coached.) New school has OPTIONS, so many options, like a robotics club, a reading club, chess, yearbook – and several less competitive intramurals like dodgeball.
  • And when I found out two of Ethan’s greatest allies/friends were leaving the school, I knew middle school would be hard for Ethan without these boys. These boys stuck up for one another, and Ethan would be miserable and bullied – with no support. I know he had other friends, girls mostly, but that only added to the bullying he was experiencing at the end of the year.
  • Ethan has asked for years to go to a different school. Having his dad’s death happen so soon into his time there AND finding out at the school have tied all those memories together. I’m not sure Ethan can separate things in his head, and that’s made for some self-imposed difficulties at the school. The new school is a fresh start. A clean start. No one knows him there, and he can create the persona he wants to be (starting with today’s outfit, which he introduced as his “new look” – much different than the athletic shorts/stained t-shirt boy I looked at all summer).
  • I won’t even go into Family Life or the repetition of explaining childhood grief to the administration and teachers… New school has an onsite counseling DEPARTMENT, and it hosts workshops and meetings for kids who’ve lost a loved one, or have anger issues, or are dealing with family status things (remarriages, parents dating, divorce, etc.)

And I feel guilty about making the decision – the best decision for him and one he’s asked for for several years – to change schools. Guilty because Ethan will attend public school for sixth through eighth grades. And that’s not what Mike and I agreed to. And Mike’s not here to support or refute my decision. And I can’t discuss it with him. And I can’t get his okay.

I CAN’T GET MIKE’S OKAY. I will never have his okay…

 

So, regarding Lauren, I decided to move her to a different school, too. I’m keeping her in a Catholic school (for now). I’ve met with the principal and her teacher to discuss the situation, and they seem more competent/compassionate/understanding. I’ve explained some of the childhood grief issues we had at the other schools, and they seem better equipped to handle it. Lauren’s a completely different kid with different needs. She’s going to be alright no matter where she goes. I feel really good about her new school, and wish I would have moved Ethan here last year (it only goes to fifth grade, unfortunately).

What problem? Meeting recap and the start of making a decision about the kids’ futures

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WARNING: Long, 2,000 word dialogue reconstruction follows. This is a recap, to the best of my recollection, about yesterday’s conference with Ethan’s teacher and principal.

I have a very difficult decision to make. It might be time to take both kids out of their current school and into a new educational environment.

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But first: Couldn’t have been better timing. Pillows made from one of Mike’s shirts arrived yesterday. (I only had this shirt and another one plus an old hat of Mike’s. Ethan has the other shirt and hat.) I asked his parents for a few things after Mike died (like his ties – I wanted to give Ethan one of his dad’s ties for every special event he attends), but… nothing.

I met with Ethan’s teacher and principal yesterday about his behavior. It was a ridiculous waste of time. Meeting recap (keep in mind, they called the meeting):

Principal: We’re here because we’re concerned about Ethan being ready for middle school. He won’t have a base homeroom like he does this year. This lady (pointing to his teacher) has been fantastic with him. Taking time with him. Blah blah. (Words of awesomeness directed toward his teacher)

Me: OK. I’m confused. I haven’t heard anything for months about Ethan’s behavior, then there was the email last week to which I responded. This is the first I’m hearing of concerns about middle school.

Teacher: Well, he’s unorganized. He refuses to use his accordion folder and he won’t have a desk next year so he’ll have to stay organized in his locker.

Me: OK… He’s 10. And a boy.

Teacher: Well, he won’t listen to me about using his accordion folder to stay organized.

Me: So, that’s not in your email…

Teacher: (recaps her email)

Me: (recaps my email) I want you to know that I read my email response, and your email, to Ethan so he could make sure incidents were portrayed as how they happened. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know. I want to him to stand by what he told me.

Teacher: It’s interesting you bring up your email, and that you read it to Ethan. You’re giving him excuses for his behavior. You’re justifying it. And by reading it to him, he’s believing the excuses you’re giving him.

Me: No. I don’t do excuses. Your email questioned what has changed since spring break, and I answered. It’s three things: testing, bullying by (four names) and Family Life.

Teacher and Principal: Oh no! Three of those boys would NEVER bully someone. The one, though, yeah, we know about him.

Me: And I understand that the bullying isn’t limited to Ethan, that at least one other mother has indicated concern.

Teacher: So you talked to (mother’s name)? Yeah… (looks at principal)

Me: It’s an issue, so what’s the plan to resolve?

Teacher: Well, Ethan bullies back. He says things to (bully name) that are similar to what you say the (bully) says to him. But I’ve never heard (bully) say anything to Ethan. I can only respond to what I hear about, and (bully and his three cohorts) tell me all the time things Ethan says to them. I’ve even heard from their parents that Ethan is bullying them by name calling.

Me: So Ethan’s not tattling on these boys, and I’m not calling you telling you (name) called him a lesbian, so Ethan’s at fault? The other boys are quiet in their comments so teachers can’t hear, but Ethan has a loud voice that carries, so that’s what you hear and react to? Because here’s the thing: my attitude is “no tattling. Period. Figure it out, unless someone is bleeding.” It’s all stupid shit that doesn’t warrant the attention of an adult. But you want the tattling? You want Ethan to tell you when the boys are bullying him or other kids?

Teacher: I can’t help what I don’t know about.

Me: OK, I’m telling you…I’m not saying Ethan’s innocent – hell, who wouldn’t call someone names if that person kept bullying them? They need to work it out.

Principal: I’ll bring them both together tomorrow and talk to them.

Me: Great. And I’ll tell Ethan to tattle more. Now about Family Life…

Teacher: I really don’t understand why you want to take him out. He has such insightful things to say and questions to ask. He brings a different perspective to the class. This is a hard conversation to have, but he’ll bring up his dad and the things his dad did and ask about it.

Me: Yeah, so the book really doesn’t represent “family” life as portrayed in the real world.

Principal: Can I see the book? What do you mean?

Me: Well, to start with, just look at the pictures. Families don’t look like that. There are no mixed families, no interracial adoptions represented, no single parents, no same sex parents…

Teacher and principal laugh hysterically.

Principal: Well, it is a Catholic school, so we would NEVER show a gay couple in “Family Life.”

Me: But that’s the real world. That’s part of “family life.” You can discuss the church’s views on homosexuality, but you can’t deny that these families exist. It’s legal. It exists. It’s my job as a mom to make sure my kids are prepared for the world, and that’s part of the world. I would like the name of the person at the archdiocese in charge of curriculum because I’d like to discuss the outdated notions in this book. As Ethan told me, “look at the cover.”

Teacher: It’s so funny you say that because that’s exactly what I told the class – “look at the cover. Does anyone’s family look like that? Because mine doesn’t.” We talk about family differences. Like I asked, “who in your house mows the lawn?” I had them raise their hands for it’s hired out, I do, mom does, dad does. And we marked it on the board to show how different we are. And how our families operate differently.

Me: Two things: so Ethan heard “look at the cover” and tuned you out. I guarantee it. Because there’s nothing there he can relate to. And examples like that show families are different, but in Ethan’s mind, it’s reinforcing HE’S different because dad mowing the lawn isn’t an option. No matter what you ask the class about family roles, he can NEVER raise his hand that his dad does this or that.

Teacher: I really don’t think his dad’s death is still an issue. He talks about him in class, which is something he didn’t do before. He’s over it.

Me: No. And Family Life is reinforcing that he doesn’t have a dad. Look, I’m personally offended by a lot of content in the book. (Refers to the father/mother section) This is not representative of my life now, nor when I was married. I was the primary bread winner. I traveled a lot. I had a lot of stress. I would’ve liked to participate in the kid’s activities more but couldn’t because of work obligations. It’s really unrealistic.

Teacher: We talk about how this is how it used to be and then discuss how things are now.

Me: Kids see a book that you’ve put in front of them and consider it to be what you’re teaching. I don’t care what your in-class discussions are, the perception is that this is “family life.” It isn’t being taught as history; it’s being taught as “family life.” Also, I thought parents were supposed to see the book before it was taught.

Teacher: Oh no, not this book because we’ve never had a problem with it. There’s a bigger text book that talks about sex that would go home to parents first so you could decide if you wanted your child to participate. This is just a workbook for discussions to set up the bigger text book.

Me: Yeah, Ethan will not participate in this class. Not now with the workbook, and I can’t even imagine how the text book will work, so I revoke my permission for that, too.

Principal: This is taking the place of religion this quarter, right?

Teacher: Yes.

Me: Well, Ethan will have to be somewhere else during this discussion. I would like your lesson plans and I will instruct him myself on “family life.”

Teacher: I have a packet for you. You’ll really have fun having the conversations with Ethan about this stuff. But I really don’t think it’s a dad-issue for him. He says such nice things about his relationship with Mr. B and his Big Brother…

Me: Yes, he has male role models, but HIS DAD IS DEAD. NO HE’S NOT OVER IT. AND YES I WHOLEHEARTEDLY BELIEVE FAMILY LIFE IS TRIGGERING HIS BEHAVIOR THAT YOU SAY HAS REGRESSED SINCE BEFORE SPRING BREAK.

Principal: Let’s bring Ethan in.

Ethan came in and I asked about his day. His response was typical, “It was good.” I asked if he got in trouble or had to be told not to talk out in class. “Once in Miss J’s class,” he said.

Teacher: REALLY?!

Ethan: Yes?

Teacher: Well, I don’t always correct him, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t talk out or have a good day. I’d say today was a medium day.

Me: So if you don’t call him out, how is he supposed to know his actions aren’t appropriate. Or how you perceive his day to have gone?

Teacher: He knows.

Ethan’s skin turned red and blotchy.

The teacher brought up tutoring to help Ethan with math. Ethan LOST it. I’ve never seen him break down like that. His eyes teared up, his voice was LOUD, and he just said, “No, no, I won’t do it.” His head was thrown back and he refused to make eye contact. His hand went to his head and he rocked back and forth a bit. He slid low into his chair.

Me (reaching out to touch his leg): What’s the problem? Do you know what tutoring is? It’s not a big deal.

The reaction from Ethan didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop it. The teacher and principal couldn’t stop it. Finally, I told Ethan to get a drink of water and come back.

Teacher: That’s what I deal with every day.

Me: I’ve never seen anything remotely like that before from him.

Teacher: I can tell by your expression that you’ve never seen it, but that’s how he reacts. A lot. It might be because of math or because of an assignment he forgot. Anything will set him off.

Ethan came back into the room.

Me: OK, so you started this meeting talking about middle school. One thing we all know is that Ethan doesn’t do great with change. One reason he’s had a decent year – which I’m going with since I haven’t heard much from you – is because he knew (teacher) from last year. Is there any way Ethan can meet with the three middle school teachers before school starts?

Ethan flew into hysterics again. “I will not do that! I don’t want to talk to them! I don’t want to go here anymore!”

Principal: We can work something out. (Ethan continued his tantrum.)

Me: Ethan, can you tell me why? Why don’t you want to meet with the middle school teachers? What’s wrong with the school?

He couldn’t or wouldn’t articulate his feelings. The meeting concluded shortly after.

Ethan and I talked a lot last night about Family Life. Ethan believes it’s a contributing factor to his behavior the last few weeks. I told him that now he’s removed from it AND the bullying issue will (hopefully) be addressed, he needs to back it up by pulling it together at school.

Me: Let’s show them that we’re right. Bullying and that stupid fucking Family Life bullshit book are the reasons. But that argument goes in the garbage the first time you act out, you realize that?

I’ve been thinking about the conversation with the teacher and the principal, and the follow up with Ethan. I wish he could articulate what it is about the school – this isn’t the first time he’s mentioned he wants to change schools. I’m generally not one to give in, but if the school thinks Ethan is or should be over his dad’s death, and if I have to continually have the same conversations with the same people, maybe it’s better for everyone to change.

We live in an open enrollment state. I applied to a couple of public schools outside our district today, and I talked to a mom who has kids in a different Catholic school in the area. I haven’t filled out the “are you returning” paperwork at the current school yet, and I’ll probably not do it until I finalize my decision on where the kids will go to school next year.

To be continued: To change schools or not to change schools?