Fighting the Blues

We're pretty sad around here, especially me and Brian. Part of me wants to figure out what is really wrong, you know? What is underlying, the real cause of the malaise, and what is symptomatic.

I'm pretty sure that the way I feel about going back to school in a few weeks -- like I don't want to, more than I have ever not want to -- is symptomatic. School isn't the real issue. I think the same thing for Brian. He had a little melt down last night. He said that he was reconsidering going back to the big high school instead of the charter arts school. He felt badly because I had already bought him uniforms (and the more expensive nice ones from Lands' End, not the cheap scratchy polos the school sells), but the charter school wasn't as great as he thought it would be. He was really interested in drama and the big high school really does have a better drama department. Ironic that, but true. And it was hard having his friends all live in another town. If he went to school here, with Gary, he might make friends here...

...and that might make it easier when Andrew leaves for college.

In the end we all agreed that he would go to the charter school for at least one more year.

But it has been a difficult summer. Andrew is leavng; the cottages sold; my mother is doing poorly. Anyone of those would make me sad, of course my mother being sick and my not being able to go is the hardest. The boys just found out that my mother has early Parkinsons, but it is unclear to me how much that affects them. They have only seen her a few times. They like her. She is their grandmother, but she is not an integral part of their lives. I think that they are probably more worried about whether I am going to fall apart over it.

They know that their father and I have made a commitment to be frugal and get out of debt, but they don't know how bad it is. I know that we caught it "in time." It is not really the debt or the need for frugality that is the problem, at least for me. It is the way these things are affecting me and Roland, or our relationship. We don't fight, but there is tension. This isn't the place to write much about that. We've come through worse and we know we will get through this.

Still I often feel stretched thin, unable to handle anything else. Brian announced a week ago that he wanted to switch from the trombone (which we rent at $40/month) to the trumpet. We actually own a pretty good trumpet. I was happy about that, but it isn't where it should be. Brian shrugs, says he doesn't mind playing the trombone. Andrew says he thinks we took it out to the garage when Evan moved back. Roland says he is sure it isn't in the garage, but he will look. Not today though. Today he has to do something else.

To me it feels overwhelming. How can we loose a trumpet? It is in an oversized case. It is not a small thing, not the sort of thing that could have be in the sofa cushions or even been accidentally thrown away. I know this is not something worth falling apart over, but I do. I get angry. I growse and complain.

Brian left the crock pot for two day to soak because it was "impossible to get that stuff off, Mom." I finally got angry at him, told him to get his butt into the kitchen and wash it. He did, and chipped it slightly. He did not tell me and I found it when I went to put it away. I lost it. Not for very long, but I did yell. Gary made a swift retreat to his room, which is what Brian had advised him to do in such cases.

Someone asked me why I am not writing as much, and that is why. I'm feeling overwhelmed and I am not coping well with even small things going wrong. I don't want this blog to be all about everything that is upsetting me. It is supposed to be a foster care blog, and I want it to stay focused.

Last night, after talking about the schools I saw Brian on his bed crying. I went and sat next to him and he said, "I don't want Andrew to go away." I held him and said I didn't either.

There was one good thing though. My father called the other day to offer his frequent flyer miles to Andrew to buy his ticket to go to college. We told him we had already bought that ticket, but then I told him about Mom. It isn't easy for me to ask my father for things, but I did tell him that if he had miles he wanted to get rid of, I would happily take them to buy a ticket to see her. He agreed.

Now I can call Mom and pick a date. I just have to save money for the rental car.

If I could just find that damn trumpet.