"Scooter" Works Here

I don't want to be a cheeseball, but sometimes I just can't help it.

I was leaving work tonight, walking to the elevator and out to the parking garage alone, 20 minutes after my day officially ended, thinking how much I enjoy my co-workers (except that One) and how much I enjoy going to work each day. Don't mistake that to believe that I enjoy my work every day. Sometimes it's draining and exhausting and overwhelming and it makes my cry, and the Very Last Thing I want to do is walk through those doors and see the mess of work that I left on my desk the previous night. But in general, interacting with the Good people I get to see each day is worth braving the Bad.

I like seeing the same people each day and laughing about the Insanity Du'jour. I like that each co-worker has a different personality and I like knowing what kind of conversation will come from interacting with each one. I like my supervisor. And my director. I even like the silly nickname I mistakenly incurred last week. I like knowing that after a year, and after trying to resign 6 months ago, that I belong there.

I don't think I've ever talked about what I do. I'm an investigator with Ch!ld Pr0tective $ervices. (Trying to hide it from search engines.) And last September, I became overwhelmed and felt that I was putting the children of my county before my own children. I was having more migraines and getting less sleep. I was obsessing over a mom I feared would harm her children and the lack of evidence I had to do anything about it. I was tormented by fear each time I had to testify in court. I dreaded the ring of the phone when I was on call and the sound of a police officer on the other end. I hated having to make decisions regarding someone else's family.

So Tim and I decided together that I needed to resign and find something less demanding and part-time so I could give my family the attention that they deserved. Except that my director would have none of that. She gave me one of her Famous Pep Talks and told me that I was a keeper and that she would create a position for me to prevent me from leaving. And she did.

So. Since October, I have been off the streets and in the office fielding every report of ch!ld @buse or negIect (being incognito again) that comes into our county. And during that time at my desk, I have gained confidence in my understanding of state child welfare code and in my assessments of child endangerment. I have learned when to give more of myself and when to not. I have learned when to go home at 4:30 on the dot and when it's important to stay late.

In less than a month, my position will be obsolete and I will be going back to investigations. I am strangely looking forward to it, grateful that when my position changes yet again, the people who make me laugh from 8-4:30, Monday-Friday (and after-hours on-call and the occasional weekend) will still be in my life, still cracking me up with our twisted sense of humor.

Enjoying the Small Things

It's February in Indiana.

Life outside is dreadfully gray and soggy and a bone-chilling cold. What snow remains on the ground is edged in soot and the shine on our cars is dulled by salt. Everyone's recovered from the Christmas Rush only to face trudging through the days, Spring Break a mirage on the horizon. For us and for our children, each day blends into the next - a blur of activities, patchwork dinners, homework, alarms that go off too early and buses that come in the dark.

Mackenzie finally finished out her swim season, exhausted but happy to have swam and now she returns to concentrating on her grades which have been somewhat neglected since Christmas.

Joe is knee-deep in Show Choir Competitions, practicing during the week and traveling each weekend, somehow dipping ice cream in between.

Dillon is still loitering around, attending EMT class and trying to find his new niche in life and manage without license nor vehicle.

Alex has had a hard month, be it a reaction to his medication, puberty, or his own form of Cabin Fever that's causing his erratic behavior. He's been disagreeable and combative nearly every night in recent memory and it's exhausting for those who care for him.

Sometimes I find myself wishing time away. Thinking, "If we can just make through the next 4 months then Dillon will get his license back."

"If we can just get through this year then Joe's meets and competitions will be off the calendar."

"If we can just make it through next year, then Mackenzie can drive herself around."

"If we can just make it through puberty with Alex, then Life can return to peaceful."

"If we can just get through the next 6 years, then all the kids should all be out of the house and Tim and I can finally settle down."

And then tonight Dillon came upstairs to talk to me. Mac was downstairs studying, Alex in bed, Joe at school, and Tim at the firehouse. I was sitting alone on the couch, TV off, computer on my lap, red wine within reach, having just been purposefully urinated on by Alex in retaliation for making him bathe. Dillon had clearly come topside to check on me and we chatted for a few minutes before he said, "There's been a lot of tension in the house lately." He wasn't making a judgment, not placing blame, just noting his observation. My immediate response was to apologize and then the phone rang, Tim checking in one last time before bed. Dillon waited until I was off the phone and talked with me a few minutes more, then kissed me and went to bed. I sat there a moment, thinking what a wise and insightful young man he is. Whether or not he meant to, this Man-Child I raised while raising myself reminded me to Enjoy the Small Things.

So before I sleep tonight, I'll simply Enjoy these Small Things:

• the bottle of water Phyllis brought me today when she heard me say at work that my Peace Lily was thirsty
• new sneakers
  
• Joe, coming to check on me tonight after hearing about the evening
• writing a post
• the piles of folded laundry on the table (thank you, Dillon!)
• Alex, being a sweetheart at JoAnn's Fabrics tonight
  
• Babycat's meow
• my pants fitting better
• the new treadmill that's on it's way
• Mackenzie's magical ability to calm Alex down during a meltdown
  
• the fire in the fireplace
• a husband who makes me laugh
  
• and last but not least, 2 doggies keeping me company on my big empty bed

The Good, the Bad, and the Alex

Last night was not a good night. Alex started to melt down around 2 in the afternoon and nothing we did could change the terrible path of destruction he was on. Sometimes, there's a trigger for his meltdowns and we watch and we learn to adapt and eliminate the triggers from his environment. But sometimes, like yesterday, the meltdown is like a fantastic spring storm that you first see on the horizon. You take measures to try to prepare for it and take precautions to minimize the damage, but sometimes no matter what you do, the storm is inevitable. Sometimes it's too big to try and avert with our meager human ways and all we can do is resort to damage control.

Yesterday, the storm started at 2 and didn't end until it was knocked back with medication and wrestled to bed just before 7, leaving a swath of destruction and tears and a fair amount of pain in it's wake.

But today. Today, Alex couldn't have been more wonderful. He hugged and kissed me when I got home from work, he stopped playing his airplane game without complaint to get in the car and fetch Mackenzie from practice, he sat down to eat with just one no and then moseyed off to the bath after I asked only once.

Then, he signed that he needed to sit to take his shoes off.

He signed "sit!" And I've never seen him do that before. We communicated! He told me what he needed, and I was able to help him!

It's days like today that make the very gray and stormy days fade into the background of our consciousness and allow the Baby Steps that we yearn to see float to the surface and restore our Hope.