The weather has been beautiful. Unseasonably so. I'm enjoying it very much. And wondering if it has anything to do with the sun's giant dark spot.
My second summer semester is over, and it was great. I don't have my final grades in yet. I took Human Services and Communications, and taking those two together worked out well because they applied many of the same concepts. Being in a nearly-all-male class wasn't so bad after all. After the early dropouts only one other girl and myself remained, but it was fine. The professor had a way of putting people at ease with his humorous attitude. Human Services I took online, and it was a bit intense but I learned a lot. Like how much welfare fraud is committed by insurance and medical institutions, compared to the small fraction committed by individuals. And how ambiguous the laws are regarding what constitutes "child abuse." It's impossible to read these laws and not wonder what the hidden agenda was behind their wording. It makes sense now that child welfare workers can come up with a reason to remove almost any child, and also that they take the brunt of responsibility for making the determination. It's grossly unfair to the parents and the workers. The wording of these laws MUST be changed to give some sort of actual definition of "abuse" and "neglect."
Little Bear turned 7 this week. And I wasn't going to talk about my ex on this blog, but it's kinda important because this is the first birthday he hasn't been here for. And our son noticed, of course. It really put a damper on his day. Under the circumstances, if he had shown up, I probably would have called the police. After finally seeing the kids again two weeks ago at his dad's house, where he's been staying since he got out of the hospital from his accident, he decided it was better to go back to the streets than to stay there and keep seeing his kids. All he had to do was not rob his dad and brother, and empty all his prescriptions to sell on the street, every time they left for work. They set up a hidden camera because he adamantly refused to admit he was doing it, and when confronted he took a bag of clothes and left again.
I really cannot justify ever letting him have contact with us after this. Even though they didn't see it, he was snorting his prescriptions off the counter when we were there to visit. And this time it's beginning to sink in for the kids that they might never see him again. It's heartbreaking. Andy called him his "ex-dad" the other day, and when I tried to say that it doesn't work that way, he replied, "It does for me!" And Little Bear went up to his grandpa at his birthday gathering last night and asked with tears in his eyes, "Did my Papa really steal from you?"
I think I'm truly starting to hate him. And here I thought my love for him was unconditional. But I guess I've always been that way, even back when I was the big sister. I could forgive people for hurting me, without hesitation. But I held grudges fiercely against those who hurt my little brothers. And I suppose it's turning out the same way with my children.
Ah well, good things are in the future, in spite of the heartache. I'm hoping to join the academic fraternity at college this fall, I'm starting Work Study, the boys will be back to school soon, and the Princess is in good hands with her day care; so I'm finally feeling confident about the future being better. Here's to happiness!