So, based on the phone calls that have been going on in the past few days, I'm about 99.8% sure Kid A will be residing with us by the 4th of July. (Why the 4th of July you ask? Well, he has to do summer school since he's all but failed math already.) Honestly, my mind is reeling. The screenplay for what is going on in my head would read something like this:
Tucker ( alternately pacing around the house and blogging while eating chocolate and sneaking sips of a Makers Mark & Diet Coke):
Oh my God. I'm not old enough to have a 15 year old. Shit.
I mean, most days we can barely keep our acts together, and now we're responsible for this kid who needs so much help and direction and... OH MY GOD THIS IS GOING TO BE HARD!
I'm going to have to hide the liquor. Which sucks because it was so convenient in our cute little bar. Boo.
And no more loud sex (was that TMI?). And no more running around the house in underwear or a towel. Must get a new robe.
Oh, crap. Homework. I thought I finished that 10 years ago. And Math. Ugh. We need to get him a tutor.
But hey, I'll have someone to play Guitar Hero with! And he is a good egg with a great sense of humor.
Oh Lord, I forgot about the hygiene. What is it with teenage boys that make them so adverse to smelling good and not having fungus growing in their teeth? I don't wanna argue about toothbrushing. Really, really.
But, I do get to go to IKEA to pick out some nice stuff to make his room feel homey because that is important and I want him to know that he has a home and we care and he isn't an inconvenience.
Even though he really is.
God, please don't strike me down with lightening for that last one. I'm just being honest. I promise I'll never do anything to make him think that. Promise.
*Sigh* And then there will be the joys of the balancing act between Swiss who, though I love and adore him, tends to take the more militaristic parenting stance (that's how he was raised after all) and me who is more talk-and-hug-it-out. Gah. We aren't even on the same parenting style page. That isn't good.
Oh yeah, I'll get to start up my own shuttle company. Because he ain't getting to drive until he proves we can trust him.
But he gives great hugs and it means the world to me when he tells me he loves me or calls me Mom (which is a TOTAL trip, BTW) and when he talks to his Dad and asks how I am doing.
Though Fletcher is going lurve him. Oh good Lord, those two could seriously burn each other out. That is a good thing on two fronts.
And it would be fun to watch him play football or soccer and root from the stands, watch him go to prom, graduate... I cannot possibly imagine how incredible it will feel when he finally comes around and turns into the human being I (we) always knew he could be.
But mostly, am I ready for this?
Tucker then collapses on the sofa clutching her chocolate and drink, losing herself in hours of HGTV/Food Network to quiet her mind.
So yes, this is going to be a monstrous change. Obvs Swiss and I have a metric TON to talk about, house rules to set, expectations of one another, signs we can use to let each other know when they need to re-evaulate, a house to teen-proof, the list goes on. Plus there will be multiple trips back home to get everything taken care of. And there goes the trip we had planned to Banff this summer. But then again, I guess this isn't all about me and us anymore.
Wow. This insta-family business is sort of overwhelming.