Changing of the Guard

Yesterday morning we awoke to 2 inches of fresh snow. Fluffy flakes covered our cars and the roads. This was easy to brush from our windshields yet caused some early morning traffic hazards. This was the day my sister had to go to a court hearing to have her legal guardianship of Colin approved.

My husband went to the court to attend the hearing. It was not necessary that he be there and he arrived on time. My sister was about 20 minutes late due to a traffic jam, despite leaving extra early. Fortunately almost everyone else was running late, including the judge.

My husband found the judge to be very sympathetic and the guardianship was approved.

The judge heaped praises upon Aunt P. We are very lucky to have her. Unfortunately right now, my sister does not feel so lucky or altruistic. Having an unpredictable, extra child is adding much stress to her life. She made a commitment and is following through but understandably has feelings of resentment toward the position she is in. There is nothing we can say or do that will help at this point. We all just need to get through the rest of the school year and hope Colin will be ready to come home.

While I am relieved that Colin seems to be doing relatively well at his aunt's house, I am concerned at the amount of work that needs to be done. No rages so far but he is far from the child he was a year ago. He has limited his wardrobe to a few pairs of shorts and short-sleeved polo shirts which he continues to wear despite below-freezing temperatures outdoors. We have been assured that many kids wear shorts through the winter and this is o.k. He also still has his odd quirks like sleeping on the floor and aversion to certain sights and sounds, as well as eschewing most of his belongings from home. Colin continues to be in denial and refuses to discuss his issues. His mantra seems to be "I'm fine."

We have to pick and choose our battles.

And there will be many....

We should get a report from the psychologist tomorrow. Next week we have an appointment for our 15 year old to see the therapist.

One day at a time. One battle at a time.

We are a work-in-progress!