I've got the ingredients, and some pretty purple frosting. I've got all the tools I need to bake and decorate a treat. I've been putting it off because it makes me sad.
DQ turns 17 today. She's still in the group home. I've told the staff I would be bringing cupcakes. I'm not looking forward to this. Not even a little bit.
She is still doing the same things that got her placed in the group home to begin with. Still looking for ways to break the rules. Still contacting males. Still back talking the staff. Still blaming everyone else for the situation she's in.
DQ has exactly one year to gain some enlightenment. One year to figure out how to live and function as a member of society. One year before she is out on her own. It scares me to think of all the heartache she will suffer, left to her own devices. But I can't save her. I can't cover for her.
It's a horrible feeling...Loving your child. Wanting the best for them. All with the firm belief that she can not live in your house or be part of your family.
I've recently come to realize that she will have to go out and make her own mistakes. She will have to learn on her own, the real life consequences of her actions. I tried to teach her, to guide her, to save her from the ugly side of the world. But she wouldn't listen.
Happy Birthday DQ. I'm going to bring you cupcakes and hope for the best. But my 'mom blinders' are gone now and you won't be coming home.