47 Days to christmas!
Yes, the countdown has begone. Well, it had already begun, I just chose not to share my madness with you guys. See I’m good like that. Arrived home yesterday to the kid chatting on the computer. Myspace or msn or some other application she uses to talk to numerous people she hardly knows. Apparently, she’s a legend because she threw an item of underwear at Jeff something or other. When I gave her the look, she responded with “They were old ones, Shelly” I’m sure Jeff is delighted with an old pair of knickers. I was going to question why we left a fortune in Pennies for underwear that was going to hang off some fellas guitar. Yes, I know I sound far too sensible. That’s because I am.
I had a long chat with her about improving her behaviour in school and showing us more respect. She took some of it in, I think. She was funny, the minute I said, we need to talk, she was nervous. I don’t know why she assumes that every time we have to talk to her, its going to be bad. Perhaps because any time we have to ‘talk’ it usually is to be reprimanded. I guess I just needed to stress how serious the suspension was and it was not something that she would be joking about. Ever.
She had pizza as there was ‘nothing’ to eat in the house. She studied her chemistry and biology and had a rest. I had a meeting to I left her burning, I mean cooking her pizza and told her to get the place in order. As in wash up and sort out the laundry. I arrived home from the meeting and was barrelled to one side as she shot past me to do the washing up. I did some work but was too tired to stay online for long. More nightmares last night, very disconcerting. I checked in on her this morning, the angelic face of her as she lay curled up under the duvet. I looked and then looked again. Sure enough, the guitar was tucked in next to her. I gave her a hug before leaving and asked what was with her sleeping with the guitar. She shrugged and said why not. I suppose its a smaller instrument then say a drum kit. I’d say sleeping with your drum kit would be a bitch.
She left myself and Mammy2 a letter telling us how much she apprecaiated all we have done for her and continue to do and how she’s going to do better. Perhaps she has learned from this and perhaps we can all move forward. Right now, I want bed. For about a week. With fluffy pillows, none of that toast marlarky. We have a meeting with the counseller tonight. At this stage, I am sick of talking about how we feel about the whole Friday thing. But I know we’re going to be talking about it for a while. The counseller is very good though and the kid gets on with her really well. I have no problem with meeting the counseller its just when she turns on me to answer questions or discuss how I feel, I wouldn’t be a fan. Damn counsellers and their caring attitude.
