Spoke too soon. Another card, with $63.90 still remaining on it is missing. (I told you, his partner keeps buying them for him.)
Hubby says, "I want him out of here. Say the word and he's gone."
Not fair to me. He's only 17. He left for a couple of weeks the summer he turned 16. I was worried sick every day. At least if he's here, I sort of know what he's up to.
We nearly lost him at birth. After being placed in our room, I had to go fetch the nurse because I didn't like the way he was breathing. Within a minute or so, his lungs collapsed and he was blue from head to toe. A week in the neo-natal ICU, and he was fine.
He had feeding issues for years. I had to nurse him exclusively for a full year because he couldn't drink from a bottle, sip from a cup, or take anything by spoon. He wasn't able to swallow cereal (pablum) or baby food until well over 15 months. He couldn't tolerate chunkier toddler food until he was 3 1/2. Until then, he lived on baby cereal (pablum), yogurt and whole milk.
He had orthopaedic issues. Had to see a specialist until he was 12.
He has (what turned out to thankfully be a minor) heart anomaly. Spent a couple of years going back and forth to Sick Kids Hospital though.
And he had an accidental overdose of Gravol (Dramamine to you) four years ago, which landed him in pediatric ICU for 24 hours.
He's a handful. But, he's my handful. As much as I want to choke him sometimes, I remember dropping to my knees in the maternity room washroom while the doctors were frantically trying to save him, and begging God to save my son. Obviously, He did. And now I can't bail on him.
I can't overlook his b.s. antics, but I can't cut him off either.
As I've said before, he was raised properly; in an intact loving home; we attended church; he was taught morals and right from wrong. I have to believe that sooner or later he will become the young man that God intends him to be. Until then, I may just have to run interference between him and his father. And pray.
