Now I know that folks have bad days...I've a had a few too many in the past few months. So I've learned a few things...such as if you can't beat em.....laugh with them and take second place. If you don't make mistakes....you don't learn a lesson. Parenting is harder than ANYTHING I have ever done or want to ever do in my future. Anyone who knows a little bit about me knows that I adore kids (including my teens) however mine have caused me and the police to have a few good run INS. To make a long story short (well sort of)… Jodi (my adorable 15 year old), who was on probation (for minor offenses) decided that she was going to take a walk after curfew...not a bright idea. I told her “no” and that she was on curfew and that she knew that she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere but the front yard, Jodi (being Jodi) left. I calmly went upstairs and removed all of the electronics out of her room; I thought to myself that this would be easier than when she came home.
I then took off in Rick’ car to hunt her down and throw her in the trunk (figuratively speaking of course). We live in the center of Brownsburg and it wasn’t difficult to see her walking down the street, as if she owned it. We played cat and mouse for a while….she would see me coming and then turn the other direction….this is a game in which I do not enjoy. I finally pulled into a parking lot, which I might add was in front of the police station and across the street from my home. We ended up in a tussle (of course on the police station lawn), I was trying to put her in the car to go home, she was kicking and screaming until, we both were tired and bruised so I let go and then she proceeded to march up to the police station to turn me in for child abuse! Brat...no I did not abuse her. I told her that going to the police was not going to solve any problem and that she was going to end up in more trouble that she was ready for. The police were very tolerant and asked if she would go home “No” was her answer. I told her that she could spend the night at her dad’s, again with the “nope…not going there either”. Her grandparent’s house was also an option….have I mentioned that she a very obstinate girl? I ended up going home after two hours of trying to talk her into going home or anywhere other than juvenile. The police finally had enough of her so they cuffed her, and she ended up going to juvenile (this was on a Wednesday)... I was told that I should tell her probation officer that she had broken probation and that she was now in a secure youth facility....now the police said that I should do this in person anytime the next day. Well *yawn* I had a long night tossing and turning, so I rose with the sun, grabbed a pair of jeans (previously worn the night before - grass stains etc.), grabbed my favorite sweatshirt (a few small stains, a little hole here and there), yanked my hair back (no time for a shower, no makeup), I figured I wasn't going to the ball however I did scrub my face. Anyway you get the picture. I arrived at the Probation department (Thursday) and was told that “no the probation officer wasn't in and that he was in court” (with my daughter)! Really wish someone would have told me she had court the following day....As I walked in the courtroom, her name was called and the look on her face (rolling of the eyes and Thee shrug) was ...in fact priceless. Who could blame the girl? I have had better moments. I was told that her "sentencing" would be the following Monday - Kids Court. Monday is kid’s court day in our county ...all bad decisions that children make and when they get caught, are brought before the judge. She spent the weekend in juvenile detention. So on the following Monday, I was bound and determined to look presentable before the court, nice pants, blouse, hair "fixed"....I can clean up pretty good if given the opportunity. By golly I was even 5 minutes ahead of schedule (this would come in handy later in my story). So I fixed a steamy OK…. scalding cup of coffee in a spill proof cup, grabbed my purse and out the door I went. I was traveling down the road and about 6 miles later took a sip from my cup and walaa the lid "Popped" off and I had scalding coffee all over my legs and my hoo-ha. Sitting in a puddle of scalding coffee and driving straight is not an easy task...thankfully my phone was saved. Normally I put the phone in between my legs as I'm driving so I don't have to search for it if it rings (most ladies I know do this - for safety reasons). Out of pain, worry, emotions I cannot express...I flipped the phone up and into my purse (lucky that it landed inside) and saved it from drowning. OK so now what? I don't have time to go home and change...no Wal-mart, Dollar General...or anything between me and my destination. I am thinking while I am driving with my butt up off the seat (the seat and my butt are still steaming), about what I can do, what can I do, what can I do???? Alas there is a solution!!! There is a bag of Goodwill clothes in my trunk! Thinking to myself...what is in there????? Jodi had placed a bag in there a week or so ago...there must be a pair of jeans, pants...even sweats would be at least better than walking in with coffee all over me. I pull into Micky D’s, run to the trunk and pull out the biggest pair of jeans I could find! A size 14 Misses...yeah right....I am not a 14 and I certainly am not in a misses...what the heck...I grab them and run into the restroom which has the size stall of one of my kitchen cupboards. I literally have to peel my pants off of me...My skin is red and I am in tears...not necessarily pain...but all emotions running together (waterproof mascara was my next purchase). OK so the pants are lying on the floor (what there is of it) and I begin the process of trying to put Jodi’s jeans on me, thinking that 6 months ago I should have really stuck to my diet. After much pressing, pulling, jumping up and down, a few swear words, they are up. The button and the button hole are miles apart, but I tug, pull, and suck the gut in and yes they button!!! I can't breathe...but they are on! I have a pocket of pudge overflowing from the front and the back. The jeans are fading and worn...but they are thankfully on! The style is the low cut version that looks adorable on a teen...not so much on a 40+ something mother and my shirt barely covers the rolls that now are protruding outside of the jeans. Now I don't mean to give you more information than you need however there was no way they were going on if I had to wear panties. I rushed back to my car...looked in the trunk for something to cover the now brown driver’s seat. Another blessing from above...there was also in the goodwill bag an old bathroom rug with a rubber backing, I placed that in the car seat and off I was to court! I had to parallel park across the street from the courthouse, which I hadn't done in 20 years and rushed (turning blue the entire way) into the courthouse. Now I'm not a complainer, but of course the courtroom was on the 3rd floor and I was running late as the hearing was set for 9:00am. I took the stairs in a sideward gait, thinking that if these jeans were to split I would be arrested for indecent exposure. I made it to the courtroom, which I might add had already started...”quiet in the courtroom” is what the officer stated as I walked in. Yeah....I could barely breathe let alone talk. I sat in the back....turning blue...trying to breathe....wooden seats (I didn't dare try to cross my legs). At 10:45...I am still semi sitting there when I hear someone's cell phone singing away (very loudly) as the judge is trying to talk to a teenager. At that moment I realize it is my phone that is disturbing the court, and I swear I cannot find the stupid thing to turn it off! All eyes on me...now, it blissfully stops singing and begins beeping. The judge wants to know whose phone it is and I raise my hand...apologize to the court...as he throws me out of the courtroom. He states that I can come back in after I dispose of the phone. I meekly leave and ask one of the officers standing outside of the courtroom if they could hold on to it and explained that it went off in the courtroom and of course they reply “no...That I should just put it in my pocket AFTER I turn it off”. One of them also mentions that the judge was in a really cranky mood today (of course he is). Well Jodi’s jeans do not have pockets and even if they did I surely wouldn’t risk stuff one more ounce of anything in them. I turn it off and gingerly put it in my sock (not a pretty sight having to heave my leg onto a wooden bench to place it in there as I again wonder how long they’re going to hold out). As I walk into the courtroom....all eyes on me.... the court calls Jodi’s name...the judge throws the book at her! She'll be out in hopefully 4 months, when we go back to the same court...same judge. I will bring an extra set of clothes, bring no coffee and leave that darn phone in the car. True story...sad but true. One day...Jodi and I will laugh together about the trials and troubles of her childhood. I pray for her daily and hope that she will become the woman I always wanted to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment