The mother of the shoplifter waffles on

Thursday afternoon was meant to be Jane's police interview over her shoplifting charge. She caught the train down from Rockhampton to attend and I had given her many talks on how they wanted to see she had remorse and if she did.. she would only be given a caution/warning and not be charged.

I had to start work early by an hour so that I could attend the interview at 4 pm - and I felt physically sick over it all. I have a terrible headache behind my eye that wouldn't leave me.. my stomach felt queasy and I am not much good at being fun. I don't think I was terribly good fun playing with the kids because when I am being a frog jumping over the floor making frog noises being distracted by my own worries makes me forget where we are up to.... and I don't realise the kids have changed me into a lion - and lions don't make frog noises.

When I got home - the police had called and due to staff shortages our interview had been cancelled. Fantastic.

Friday morning MOTH called my work at 6.30am and said I was sick. I probably wasn't so sick that I couldn't of worked. I just didn't feel like facing very much (and there is a monster at my work that can bring out the worst of my temper and feelings)and wanted some peace. Even if it was just making pesto from the abundant basil out the back yard.

My friend (who is also the other shoplifters mother) rang me to tell me they had been given an interview that day... and I rang to see if we could organise the same. They agreed to fit us in after explaining their very busy schedule and how they had staffing issues (yeah - no shit.... I too rearranged my working hours and probably ended up causing a staffing issue at my own work for it)but out of the brilliance of their hearts they would fit us in.

I just sat and smelt my basil seeing my plans had changed. I tried to suggest that Jane's attire for the interview wasn't.. great but she grumped at me so I decided to let it go. I would of liked her to dress... nicely. A skirt? a nice shirt. Something demure and elegant. She chose a mismatch of colours and writing and a colourful bikini top covered with a t-shirt that to me looked as if she was on her way to the town pool. I suggested some of my own clothing... but resisted the urge to yell when she snorted at that suggestion.

I told myself to concentrate on the big stuff not the little stuff. Because I always feel like I am yelling at Jane. I mean it - always. Even when I am not yelling at her I FEEL like I am because I am getting uptight about the mess she has left on the kitchen bench/bathroom floor/bedroom/living room cushions she is walking over that shouldn't be on the floor.. etc etc. I get uptight when I get home from work for lunch and she is in bed. I get so tense and annoyed when I find she has washed one skirt and one top and nothing else. I start feeling like throwing things when I find the clothes I bought her less than a few months ago are in the garbage bin or find a pile of her dirty clothes under her bed when she is insisting she has nothing to wear.

The investigator at the Police station is an immaculately presented and attractive woman who takes me for a chat before the actual interview. She explains that she needs to see remorse etc and that she will appear hostile and may offend with her portrayal of a police officer reprimanding a young person who has committed a crime. I explain that it is actually Jane's nature to appear taciturn and to look at the ceiling when an adult is chastising her - and she advised she wasn't going to allow Jane to do that to her. I had a few minutes alone with Jane where I told her.. DO NOT LOOK AT THE CEILING - ANSWER HER TRUTHFULLY AND LOOK AT HER... MAKE SURE YOU DON'T BE RUDE TO HER... TELL HER YOU ARE SO SORRY AND WONT DO IT AGAIN!!!

And just like you see on the movies - the interview begins. The tapes are put in the huge machine (our government must get ripped off pretty badly - why the hell the huge machine to do something so tiny?)The Investigator also writes in her large handwriting the minutes of the interview. Jane's rights, what this interview is for etc - and then into the sordid details of what happened that day these two naughty, beautiful (and very loved) girls decided to amuse themselves shoplifting. Three stores. What they took. How they concealed it - undoing the packaging, acting casual, stuffing it in their bags and what their intended use for the item was. My concealing my fury at Jane taking long black pants and socks for work (when all she had to do was say she needed them - ok maybe they wouldn't of been the same ones Jane stole - but for all other purposes Jane owned three pairs of long black pants and our sock collection... well that's bloody legendary. Ok - I concede some mornings finding an EXACT pair can be somewhat difficult)

Jane looks at the ceiling. She taps her fingers indicating she is impatient. She rolls her eyes and answers questions with.. yeah yeah... and hmmmffffppphhhh (that is an actual sound - just trust me) she gets impatient and rude to the interviewer and says "what do you want me to say?" and "well - I don't know it was just for fun" and I do my best to stop myself from crying. But the damn tears wont stop anyway. I know shes blown it. I can see the Investigator getting annoyed with this spoilt brat who treats it as a bore a joke... and some dreadful adult forcing her to yet again do something she doesn't want to do. This takes hmmm.. from 1.52pm to 2.33pm. The investigator leaves the room obviously annoyed and I desperately want to flee so I can cry somewhere by myself. I suddenly wish she hasn't left me alone with Jane because I want to slap Jane's face myself. Wouldn't look awfully good me assaulting a minor at a police station.

I say to Jane.. "You have blown this. Don't you understand you CANT have a criminal record because you cannot work with children if you have one?" Thinking using something I KNOW Jane loves and cares about.. might jog her to rethink her actions. She retorts with a definite snarl "I have changed my mind I don't want to work with children."

Fantastic. Now you are not just a thief but a liar too. And the person your lying to the most.. is yourself.

The investigator returns and I fight back tears again when she says.. Jane will be charged..she shows no remorse... and I can do nothing but nod my head.. I agree completely with her. My tears are just my utter humiliation that I am responsible for raising this... person that at that very moment I like very little.... who at the same time is someone I love so very much.

I found comfort in my friend who is also suffering at the actions of her shoplifting daughter. And my daughter Anna (who is in Rockhampton with her father) was.. remarkably understanding and considerate of my feelings. In a telephone conversation she managed to make Jane cry and I am still not sure how or why that happened.

In the ensuing argument with Jane where I berated her for her inability to show remorse and make this proceed to the next level - Wednesday morning at 8.30 she goes to court to be charged with three counts of shoplifting... she once again indicated it was all my fault - her childhood was terrible, she had to cook and clean at age 5 (a remarkable accusation when you consider the fact she can do neither now... she has no clue how to organise the simplest of family meals and her idea of cleaning is to shove things under something)I was a drunk (there is truth in that) and I never liked her I only liked Anna and William, and that I spoilt William rotten.

The latter is not true. Oh - I could of spoilt these three kids rotten there could be truth in that. But that I favoured them over Jane is not true. It was just easier to be with Anna - and you know what? Anna COULD cook/cater for a large party. Those years Jane was at boarding school.. life was easier for the four of us. Jane's return home has been hard on all of us. This house is too small. Maybe I should of got a bigger house. But I dont feel comfortable rewarding Jane's bad behaviour with what she wants.

William had apnoea and has bone tumours. And there is no... end to that. Fucking great lumps that impede his movement and make him suffer... that he tries so hard to never show me... he isn't nearly as spoilt as I would let him be if I could... she is probably damn lucky I stayed as drunk as I could for weeks after his tumour removal...(I only bothered to be sober for doctors appointments or any time I had to drive) It wasn't a pretty time. I didn't cope very well.

I probably retaliated badly. I asked MOTH to put the cable tv in William's room today. Another furious moment at my beautiful daughters selfishness... She doesn't get that these kids didn't get expensive boarding school. She doesn't get that I really resented spending money on shrinks and doctors visits and having to attend endless school interviews because of her bad behaviour... that i always felt pressured to drug Jane... and refused to do it so it felt to me that I was battling too many battles. She doesn't get that Anna and William were there threw all of it... and must of been as disgusted at my behaviour... but never showed it like she does. They never tattled on my ... indiscretions. They just... hung round me and talked to me. Touched my shoulders and patted my head. Picked me up when I fell over. Reminded me to wear clothes when I felt it necessary to yell at the neighbours.

I remember one night watching "The Osbourne's" on tv and Ozzie was throwing bricks or rocks at the neighbours for playing dreadful music. Which I can relate to. However.. Sharon (who had to be as intoxicated or close) came out with a bag of bread and persuaded him to throw that instead. And as I roared laughing I also cried because.. that's a little like us.

This crime of Jane's bugs me like no other. I abhor stealing. You cant need to steal in Australia... its impossible. To starve in this country you simply have to be an imbecile. You can steal if its to feed yourself or your family, or to obtain necessary health stuff. Here - that's all available to you. Free. The second person in the street will give you bread and a can of baked beans. No hospital will refuse you. Jane was stealing utter crap - baby stuff and makeup and clothes. The baby stuff for people.. who don't need to steal it. The makeup - nope I cant forgive that my kids are capable of working for luxuries. The clothes.. oh heaven that is just bullshit. I can understand lots of crimes. It doesn't mean I condone them - it just means I can understand them. I can understand assault when someone has been so ghastly that.. harming them makes sense. I wanted to slap Jane's face at least twice yesterday and that is definitely assault.

I can understand murder in a few cases - for instance years of abuse that makes someone... react with a crime. I can understand verbally abusing someone.. because I have.. had occasion to want to do that myself or.. probably did it. (ok so I have absolutely verbally abused some people) I have mooned people in public before in a mischievous mood. Preformed lewd acts .... ummm.. wow. Trespassed... I do that on a regular basis when I am fishing. Two of my absolute favourite fishing spots are called "No trespassing" and "Trespassers will be prosecuted". MOTH laughs at me and kisses my head when I tell him I want to go to "No trespassing". MOTH only kisses my head when I am acting weird. I know that.

It was utterly dreadful to watch my beautiful daughter become this awful, angry teenager with a chip on her shoulder that lets her believe stealing was ok. It is utterly humiliating to admit it has to be all my fault. I wasnt a good enough mother. I let her down .. many times. I shouldnt of cooked - I should of bought the stuff she wanted. I shouldnt of forced her to exercise. I shouldnt of just caved in when she got kicked out of drama or anything else she was enrolled in... I should of argued I paid for the lessons she should have them. But at the time I just felt... they kicked her out for her bad behaviour so I have to cop it.

I am so unbelievably angry with her. But the same part of me that wants to shake her and tell her... stop stop stop... wants to hug her and tell her she is so terribly loved...

And it really all makes me feel sick. I dont have a temperature.. and there is nothing wrong with me. But I would love to crawl into my bed and stay there.

On Wednesday Jane has to show the magistrate that she is sorry. It wouldnt be that hard. She could say something like.... I am so sorry what I did I thought was fun but I have humiliated myself my family and destroyed a girls employment - I feel so sad and will never ever steal again.... but she WONT...

She will say... fuck you all your boring me ... i will just stare at the ceiling...crack my knuckles and pretend to play keyboard....have a few random stabs at my mother who couldnt cope well when my brother was small...and remember nothing of the good just the bad... I never did provide the shit Jane wanted.

And it breaks my heart.