It has been a hard couple of weeks. I am looking forward to my therapy session this week. So much so, that I am calling it "MY" therapy session despite the fact that we are in this together. I just need to spill all that is happening. It has been hard.
There was the first call from the summer camp. You know how they start... "Mean Mama, Ladybug is not hurt, she is fine." And I think, "NO NO NO! Just once I wish she was hurt. Because then it would mean she wasn't the one doing the hurting." Okay, I don't wish she was hurt. Really. But I wish that I didn't get these calls.
So the first call was that while at the pool Ladybug pulled down the swimming trunks of a friend. Why? Another kid told her too. Great! My child has no impulse control and bends over backwards to peer pressure. She will be pregnant and on drugs by the time she is 14. They asked her to go home for the afternoon but said she was welcomed back the next day. I picked her up and she spent a hour or so in my office. Luckily it was at the end of the day.
This past week on Monday I picked her up and she was happy and bouncy. She showed me 2 Barbies. I asked where they came from. She said she got to pick them out of the prize box. Hmmmm. How is it that it is August before I heard of the prize box. I asked which counselor let her pick from the prize box. Kristine. No, Katie. Yeah, Katie. Hmmmmmm. I didn't buy it. She was lying. And I went back to the conversation over and over that night. But she promised she was telling the truth. I even told her I was calling Katie the next day. She did not budge off the story.
The next morning I gave her one last time to tell me the truth. And she fessed up. They were another girl's. But she swore the other girl did not want them so she gave them to Ladybug. I didn't care. I told her she had to take care of it. She had to return them. Or I would be handling it for her. But before the end of the day another call came.
She lied. She took a test for that would grant her the permission to swim in the deep end. She failed. But then she found the band that said she passed. She tried to convince a counselor she had passed. Luckily the counselor knew the truth. And then later she stole the cookies of a friend and ate them. So the camp decided to suspend her for the day.
While I can't say that I am surprised, ... damn it! Now what? She is in camp because I work. I have no family in the state. All my friends work. What I am suppose to do? I called everyone that might be a possibility. No luck. But luckily my boss allowed me to bring her to the office for the day.
There was a part of me that wanted her at the office. I didn't want her going off to a friend's house and having a fun filled day. I wanted her to be bored. I let her bring a coloring book, math workbooks, and mancala. She got bored. She stuffed all the mancala pebbles into a slit she found in her favorite stuffed animal. I dug them out. She talked during every single one of my phone calls. But over all she did well. I had a hard time concentrating but she did well.
So that was Wednesday. Thursday she was back at camp. Thursday night she was in a talent show at the camp (that I found out about when I picked her up). Good thing we went because it turned out she was a featured performer. Sang. A song from Mulan. Everything was looking better.
Friday morning I made a mistake. But I wouldn't realize it until late in the day. She wore a t-shirt to camp. A t-shirt she got from my father (in all his wisdom). The shirt says "Yes, I am a girl. And yes, I can kick your butt." And on the back it says "Girls Kick Butt." I was in another world. I didn't notice she was wearing it. And later that day she stole a friend's fruit roll-ups. She lied about it. She encouraged a friend to kick her butt. Then told a counselor that he kicked her in the privates.
They called me again. She was being suspended for the rest of the day. Despite the fact that she was suppose to get a 3 day suspension. By the time I picked her up the counselor was gone. So I talked with the directors. Okay... "talk" is not an accurate word. I blubbered like an idiot. What the hell was I going to do. We have 1 more week of camp and I KNOW she will not make it. I cried. And I am not pretty when I cry. I explained her issues. And I gave them some hints.
One week. Five days. Please please please let it work. She is not allowed a second chance. Partly because of their policies. And partly because she does not treat second chances like most people. She doesn't see it as a chance to be better. She sees it as a open door to walk through and cause more problems.
One week.
Mean Mama
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