I woke this morning drenched in sweat and absolutely convinced that my time traveling had changed future events for the worse. It was all my fault and I was in a panic over how to fix the time line. Yeah. I need to cut back on the amount of sci-fi I ingest, I think. Or I really need to get back to some serious writing. I have an idea for a new book series that I really want to dive into. I just need to commit to it. Writing takes a lot of dedication and so far I haven't had the motivation to stay with a writing project all the way to completion. I have a whole lot of outlines, stray chapters, miscellaneous ideas and short stories. A whole book...that is a scary thought.
And then the cat jumped into my arms (which he almost never does) looking for a cuddle. See?! The universe is trying to keep me from writing. Ha ha ha!
Now where was I... There was something else I wanted to write down, but now my thought train has been derailed. It wasn't the dream from yesterday where an old friend somehow got a job as Johnny Carson's chauffeur and body guard just for a weekend for Johnny's visit to NYC. (Wow, what a crazy dream that was. I spent this dream weekend trying to keep Johnny Carson from being killed. Plus I got to visit the set of Saturday Night Live and found a whole room full of swag - gifts the cast had gotten over the years from various places and had never bothered to open. Yeah, I don't have any clue what that was all about.)
In other news, the school year officially ended today. Max will be moving on to first grade in September and Tyler into sixth. I remember sixth grade. Vividly. Those memories make me very afraid for Tyler in the coming year. Hormonal changes. Starting to notice boys (but they were mostly oblivious.) Girls who suddenly turned EVIL and made it their mission to ruin my happiness. Boys picking sides, friends, and icing out those who were "different". Tyler is a little different. His school year ended on a sour note when he went to the aid of a friend who was being picked on (and called a f*ing Jew) by a classmate. All the boys involved got in trouble and missed their end of year class party. Tyler says he didn't mind. The principal's office was air conditioned and his classroom was hot as hell. Plus they were eating pizza. He hates regular pizza. See? Different. The other boy was crying over missing the party. That gave me a odd bit of satisfaction, since he was the one who started the whole mess.
I find myself going over past events a lot lately. Re-remembering childhood trauma with new eyes. The eyes of a parent of a child now the same age I was back in, according to Max, Medieval Times. I know now that I was VERY difficult at 11, 12, 13 and so on. I was moody, depressed, reclusive, anti-social, angry and damaged. And I just wanted my parents to make things better. They didn't. They didn't seem to even try.
And now here *I* am, in the same spot. We are trying! Very very hard. But I don't think Tyler sees it. School sucks for him. Kids are mean. We go to a lot of meetings, trying different things, get him therapy, therapists, medication...and he just finds it all tedious, useless, annoying and sometimes just stupid. I watch helplessly as he sinks into that same dark place I was at his age. Parenting is hard. But I think being a middle-school aged kid is even harder. If you are a praying sort, we could use some divine intervention for the coming school year.