Death by closet.

I’m so glad to be home and surrounded by what’s familiar. Things like finding two salad forks under a pile of laundry, and nearly being swallowed alive by an avalanche of stuff shoved into the closet. Glass half full: I’ve rescued two forks this week, and the crap in the closet didn’t kill me. 

Death by closet is a legitimate risk around here from time to time. Yesterday was one of those times. Asking for things to get hung up and put away just doesn’t seem to work. You’re shocked, I know. This time around it was Daytime Emmy Nominee and her closet hoard that nearly took me out. Seems clean laundry is overrated, and it’s much preferred to just hide it in the closet? 

She has what I call her makeup luggage. It’s significantly bigger than my purse, and might not even fit in the overhead compartment on some planes. Well, she couldn’t fit it inside the closet and left it out on the bathroom floor, again. I figured risking a morning without it might light a fire under her to clean up her mess. So I’ve absconded with it. If only I knew what half of these powders do. I sure hope I find the one that makes my nose reflect every glimmer of light in the room. Or that very fancy bottle of liquid lady of the night face glitter. I’m sure thats not what the girls call it, but it amuses me when they are disgusted by my commentary. I can’t wrap my head around the desperation one can have to make sure they will have a set of fake lashes to wear in the morning. I keep trying to explain that she has a perfectly fine set of lashes that came with her face. I do however appreciate a clean closet so I creatively do what it takes to get there. If that means missing eyelash trauma, so be it.

We are now several days into the school week. Daytime Emmy Nominee is supposed to have an escort during passing time to make sure she safely gets from point A to point B. Safely as in remains in the building, isn’t doing anything dangerous, and shows up in class. This new routine is about 2 weeks old now, and school is failing miserably at holding up their end of the bargain. Add trauma informed schools to the list of things we need. I have reached out each day this week because she has been spotted wandering around. You’d think with all the technology we have at our disposal now, that skipping class would be a bit more difficult than it was when I was a kid. Guess not.

I had to say no to a placement today.  That always feels awful, but I wasn’t the right fit for the needs of this particular young lady, and I am big enough to know my limit.  I’ve also learned to respect my limits.  I have them for a reason.  Doesn’t make it any easier knowing there is a kid out there that I’ve opted NOT to assist today.  That part stinks, and I wish we had more foster homes. I know, I’m really selling this glamorous lifestyle over here.