need a hug

[TerryJ2]

Thank you all! Keep the hugs coming. I'm not normally this needy, am I?

His name is Braveheart. Scottish Terrier.
Here he is eating one of my old Jim Croce cassettes.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v252/TerryJ2/BraveheartJimCrocecassette.jpg

 

[Nomad]

Too funny!
We had a dog that use to eat change....our coins laying around.
Sending good thoughts and prayers...and most of all (((hugs)))

 

[TerryJ2]

Oh, my! I can imagine how THAT came out afterward! Talk about laundering money. Ewwww!

 

[recoveringenabler]

Braveheart is very handsome. Was looking a bit guilty too.

 

[TerryJ2]

So, I just found out last night that H, the Muslim girl, has been all over the inside of our house. I am trying to re-home Cousin P's cat, and difficult child blurted out, "Yeah, H really wants him but she can't have animals."
"She's met him?"
"Yeah, she held him."
Aiyaiyai!
"The next time you do something like that, give me warning so I can make the beds."
He rolled his eyes.
"Did she see your room?"
"She walked past it."
"Did she wonder why you don't have a door?"
"Yeah, she asked, but I told her it was a long story."
Hmm. I think I should move my book collection on Asperger's and bipolar to a more obvious spot in the house so she sees those, too ...

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

I met the two nurses aides who would be working with me on that shift for the first time. They were young girls. And one of them, when she read the last name on my pin, widened her eyes and said..."Are you related to difficult child Blah, blah, blah?"

And then, she went on to tell me all about this party at this house where ten thousand kids did thus and so and saw this and that.

Yep.

My house.

The party had taken place some years before? And she still remembered.

And I still remembered coming home from that trip with husband.

That would have been difficult child son. It was difficult child daughter, freshly beaten into all the colors of the rainbow by whatever abusive male she was seeing at the time, who picked us up at the airport and was introduced to...the president of the company I was working for.

Not just my boss, but THE boss.

Who, as fate would have it, was on the same flight.

You really can not, could never, in a million years, make this stuff up.

There was a hole in the wall. I remember repatching the patch job difficult child son had done. husband never found out about that hole. But there were cigarette burns in the carpet in our bedroom and man...it was awful.

Such a violation, on so many levels.

Cedar

difficult child son was 16 at the time.

 

[TerryJ2]

Oh, how embarrassing! But by now, I'm sure she know its was difficult child, not you or your parenting.
Gulp.

 

[SeekingStrength]

Hugs, TerryJ2, and more hugs - and then some more hugs. And, an extra one to grow on.

I hid Walking on Eggshells under my mattress while reading it. This was 15 years ago, but I should have kept it on the coffee table. Except, I WAS walking on eggshells.

husband told me how, in high school, he had a huge party at his parents' house while they were in Iran....for his dad's job. He turned out okay (great, even).

On, the other hand, difficult child had a huge party or two or twelve, while we were visiting family 1500 miles away. I can't begin to remember all the damage we came home to. And, yes, we were idiots for leaving him. We had him sign a contract before we left. Oh, we were such fools. Really, a difficult child and a contract??? He probably laughed while signing it.

A neighbor witnessed a middle aged man (and we think we have it narrowed to a friend's dad) carrying in cases of beer. He may have thought, Hey, better their house than mine.

First thing I did, after 10 hours of driving/riding, was change all the sheets.

Years later, it is still not funny.

 

[TerryJ2]

Ugh. Some parties are funny, some aren't.
My little sister had several parties, and during one, her friends trashed the downstairs recreation room (rec room, actually wreck room , including my dad's flag from Japan, when he was in the war. It was an old, silk flag and someone had spilled beer on it. He was so mad! He nearly cried.
And then it got worse: My mom tried to make it better by washing and drying it.
My poor dad.
Anyway, he forgot, many years later. I never have. But the good part is that same sister is the one who stayed near Mom and Dad and was their main caregiver during their last yrs. I guess it all worked out.