This weekend seemed a bit long. Friday started off with major panic attack at work, always a thrill. They are interviewing that girl and I just had every effing ptsd symptom hit me so hard. But I took a walk and chilled out and was fine but then later the asshole told me I was not only unprofessional but that I was crazy.
Friday later was ok, we went to hang out with one of my oldest friends and ended up having a sleepover here, but all the kids showed up and it was just too much, I was pretty fed up, and of course husband was on me about wine.
Went to birthday party SAturday, bowling, which was fun but loud and then of course I still have one extra kid who doesn’t want to go home (ever, it seems) and so we let him stay, but it wasn’t supposed to be all day yesterday and it ended up being until 7pm. Argh. In the meantime, I did take 2 boys to DAve and Buster’s (acknoiselightstearsgreedackackack) and then back here for dinner, while waiting for the water to boil I found in the little guy’s backpack:
a knife!
and
a box cutter!
And of course he’s not really talking. And me and dear spouse both tried to talk to him about it and he wouldn’t say a word. Quiet, not really defiant, just quiet. But when I said “you know, I have to tell your mama”, that’s when he cried. And I told him he never had to feel unsafe and he could always tell us if something was scaring him or if someone was hurting him. It was just freaky. And then when I told his mom, she was kind of like “well, yeah, they’re taking this war playing a little too seriously” and I’m like “they can get in a lot of trouble and get expelled” and she’s acting like I’m just complaining to complain. Argh. I’m at a loss. So now I frisk the kid every time he comes over?
But the sad thing is, he’s afraid of something. Afraid enough to be carrying weapons. Grover knows, and we had a long talk with him, too. But it’s scary, b/c I can only protect him when he’s here.
