Prelude to the next post - dont read this one...

The drama of having teenage daughters. Sensible people just have a dog. I am having “an evening”.

My youngest daughter Jane attends boarding school in Yeppoon - about an hour and a half drive away. Normally – I love boarding school for Jane. I guess that could sound rather cold and heartless of me. However, I have raised Jane. It has been a hell of a lot of hard work. One of the great things about boarding school is that they rarely call me. I hear about any of Jane’s not so pleasant escapades either from her or via her sister. I often wonder why the girls insist on telling me the stuff I don’t really want to hear. But – they do. And I thank god/dog for boarding school.

Boarding school has rang me twice. Once when Jane – extremely clumsily and .. oh like chicken scratches? Cut her arms.. self harm means I got a call. And the other time was when she fell and they took her to the doctors but nothing was broken.

I have already lived with raising Jane. Some of the unpleasant effects of this included:-
• Other parents arriving at my door agitated over some horrid antic of hers (examples could include:- emailing their children porn (met one of my best friends with this actually); showing their children how to make home made bombs; using paint to decorate tree houses meant to be used on their super dooper new renovations; throwing food at their children from the bus; general harassment etc)
• Hmmm – the other parents thing wasn’t just at my door – I have been accosted by angry parents at sporting events and the supermarket too. For a while there I hated going out into the world because I was constantly worried someone would grab me to … tell me how awful she had been.
• Regular (never ending) fear of the telephone – it will be the school for sure.
• Visits from relevant child protection agencies sure that Jane’s behavior must stem from horrific abuse and neglect. I sometimes was not very nice to these “officials”.
• School requests that I attend endless (and expensive) psychiatric assessments and the suggestion she has aspergers and I should really seek medical intervention. (They clearly meant drug her – there was no mistake about that)
• Her father chastising me over my rotten job at raising her (whilst he contributed ZILCH financially, emotionally or physically he did do a very good job of telling me how I was fooking it up.)

My daughter Jane is juxtapose of characteristics and traits. She is clever (it is pretty clever to find out how to make home made bombs at the age of 7 from an hour or so on the internet when your mother thought you were playing Neopets), and she is curious (she wasn’t happy to just watch old Stevie Erwin milk the cane toads for poison – she had to do it herself.. and store the poison); she is very pretty, she can be wonderfully communicative and tell me witty funny stories… (it is just a terrible shame they sometimes are about illicit parties, sneaking out of school or her fathers house and condoms filled with hair conditioner and unsuspecting and innocent victims) she can be amazingly resourceful and hardworking (hey that tree house looked wonderful in blue! Three kids covered in turps wash off paint when I had no turps wasn’t one of my favourite moments though)

She is taciturn, though. One on one contact with Jane can be pleasant and fun. Asking Jane why she chose to use nikko pen on the school bus seats to write nasty stuff about the driver can be very unpleasant. Both her father and stepfather don’t seem to be able to retain their temper when she stares at the ceiling or starts singing during such “conversations”. I don’t really either – but I just react differently. I guess.

I did make the decision to send Jane to her father – who almost immediately made the decision to send her to boarding school – the day she raised a fist to me. And life for the rest of settled down …….. so much - that it was painful at the same time it was happy? I miss her, fret for her and wish she was here with me. And then school holidays come – and terror and fights and Anna and William DEMANDING I send Jane to her fathers home. When Jane is gone though – if anyone says the slightest thing that could be perceived as bad about Jane – both of them will jump to her defense. Boarding school has longer holidays than public school kids… so about four weeks a year Jane and I have with her siblings still at school – and that time is pleasant.

Jane is smart. Really smart. If SHE chooses to work – she does a brilliant job. She has decided to please me by cooking or cleaning and done wonderful work! If you ask her to make her bed or hang out a load of washing – she will do a terrible job. Actually she will simply throw a cover over the bed and possible hoik the wet washing in an unseen corner of the yard. She did well academically… there was never any problems with that. Academically she did (does) the best of all my four children. (excepting first term this year – I still have no idea what happened with that)

When she went to live with her dad, she gained heaps of weight because he didn’t keep her occupied like I did. And he let her eat rubbish. (This also contributed to her fights with me here – I was a fool who tried to feed my kids healthy stuff…and home baking caused an alienation.. ) Unfortunately this contributed to some of her teenage angst. I.. used the tactic – keep her busy and I should have less trouble. If she got banned from the school buses (twice) she had to ride her bike to school and I would not pick her up. Drama classes – expelled and no refund. Dancing and cheerleading (the cheerleading was not my idea.. bloody school) and she got banned from both.

It resulted in huge energy (yes read angst) for me… attending job interviews or William’s doctors appointments with his bone tumors.. and Jane HIDING from the school in a cupboard or pissing off into the local drainage pipes with an equally “resourceful?” friend resulting in police searches……..(one of those events really was the day that we went to find out what Williams first bone tumors was… I felt like an absolute lunatic – hollering on the phone… “Oh for heavens sake… SHE IS FINE - SHE IS JUST BEING NAUGHTY I WILL DEAL WITH IT LATER” as the horrid principal tried to tell me I should really be there with them and the police search. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I guess I am only now - eight years later - coming to terms why that bastard told child services I was unfit. He probably had a good point seeing I reacted so badly.

But she was… just hiding. In a cupboard. Watching the drama unfold as the school searched for the missing child.

And back then… in the early days when this trouble would happen. I would react badly like that… tell the principal to deal with it … I guess act as if it wasn’t a great deal… and then I would feel bad and jump the ropes they asked me too… book the shrink appointment, attend it, (PAY FOR IT!) watch Jane completely refuse to speak to them, ($150 to not talk to someone!) think I didn’t really blame Jane for not wanting to talk to the smiling stranger either… Get angry at the GP’s suggestion of Ritalin, try (unsuccessfully) to explain to teachers that Jane was just naughty…

I STILL feel that. Jane is just naughty. When she is good she is very, very good and when she is bad she is horrid. It isn’t easy to get attention in this house. Middle child (Sara was not raised with me), youngest child with health issues and oldest child… well I relate well to Anna.

Every awful thing she does.. I completely relate to.

Anna gets suspended from school.

Why? She hit a boy with a stick.

Why did she hit the boy with a stick? Because the boy hit her first with his hand.

I related to that. I don’t condone it or… want her to run around hitting anyone with sticks.

Every time Anna gets introuble I can relate to what she did. One time an Indian maths teacher accused Anna of a racist remark… and Anna went off her nut… absolutely refused to behave….she felt she had been wrongfully accused.. did not say the derogatory term that had been attributed to her….BUT FELT CALLING HIM A DICKHEAD ETC after was perfectly ok. (It is kind of funny – three day suspension and all)

And the AWFUL part of me… agreed. It is so hard being a mother.

Jane doesn’t make it easy – by refusing to tell us why she did something horrid. Hell – Anna and I have tried to slip her half decent excuses and she just wont,,,,,,,,, tell us.

Ask the dogs. They just learn quickly chewing up the sofa isn’t beneficial in the long run. If you are a dog chances are you need a sofa to sleep on.

Sofas don’t grow on trees you know.

Guess who could of consumed more wine than necessary?