Or Medusa and Cinderella, whichever makes you squirm less.
As we walk into the Sr year for Medusa (SD17) and the sophmore year of Cinderella (SD15), things are starting to change. My boyfriend was now starting to take an active role in their upbringing and unfortunate for them, he began to see the undermining of the teenage girls mind. Now mind you I had allready raised three little social misfits, or as you call them, teenagers, and i had BEEN one so I pretty much was well rehearsed on any trick or game they could come up with. And man was I GOOD at catching stuff fast! Mr Naive on the other hand would buy such bull shit as "my dads a stupid asshole" on the status of Medusas messenger as being something someone ELSE MUST have put there because #1 she would never cuss....(um yeah right honey no 17 year old in the world cusses) and #2 she would never disrespect her father that way....( um her cat shits all over the house you own, pretty much thinking it is not a far cry for her to call you an ass). However with his new found knowledge, and his new sidekick....( How to understand teenage girls for dummys) ... AKA ME, he was well on way of recovery.
Now Miss Medusa was an angry young lass. Going into my second year with this child I was in awe how a single person could be negative about EVERY thing in life. Not only was she miserable but she would step out of her way to make everyone else miserable around her. We would take pictures, she would not look at the camera, but intentionally look down at the floor with her hair covering her face. And these were not pictures I was in, just taking..... her paternal grandmothers retirement, christmas pictures, birthday pictures..... didnt matter. She would be hours late for family functions because of her odd bathroom routines.. now mind you if she would of come out of these four and five hour rituals with her hair done and some makeup on I would have thought it was just being a girl crap, but it was not the case. She was not getting up in the morning and getting shitty grades, so away went her computer privilages. She would stay up all night reading romance novels, so away went the light bulb. And as daddy dearest started catching on.. the worse things got. Finally I suggested to him that since she was still a minor that maybe some grief therapy was in order even though it had been years, and perhaps they could help her make some kind of sense of her resentment. You would have thought that someone shot her.... now mind you this goofy ass kid told everyone she wanted to go to college to be a psychologist! HOWEVER the thought that there was ANYTHING wrong with her was just insane. So here we are trying to get her to reconnect with society, and back at camp Grammy they are telling her that it is crap and that she doesnt need a therapist, and that she acts fine.. blah blah blah blah. Here is a girl with NO friends, has no hobbies, not involved in any social activities, dresses like she is 90, her mother whom she adored is passed away, and she cant talk to ANYONE without offending them, but nope she has no issues. The appointments were made anyway.
Then there is Cinderella, whom was about as shy as a girl could be, dressed like a boy, and would sit and listen to people talk but never have any input. Eager for some type of normalcy she would attend all functions and we would sit for hours and discuss life, boys, the death of her mother, and her hopes and dreams. Her first big feat was that she started wearing her hair back in a pony tail. And every time I would talk to her I would lift her chin up to look me in the eyes. She wanted so much to be out from under the cloud of her sister, in society and at school, and it was a daily struggle to try to help her find her own voice. She would come and spend nights at my house just watching movies and talking, or hanging out with my kids and their friends. We would have dress up parties to show her how amazing she looked like a young lady and take pictures that even shocked her. She called me one day and asked me what I thought about her trying out for the school play and I could have fallen off my chair. She tried out, she got it and all the sudden her social calender began to fill. She then joined speech contests, and band contests and virtually TOOK off into the life of a normal kid. AGAIN however, back at camp grammy they were telling her that my influence was bad and that because I smoked I was a drug addict and because her father and I would drink a few beers we were drunks.... blah blah blah blah. And the sister, whom was on the dark side would tell her that she had to hate me and not like me because I was making their dad change.... which I guess I was in a way. So there were times she would cry in her room tore up trying to find a way to please them as well as herself, and it was hard for her to understand that sometimes miserable people are bitter with those that arent.
Finally the sessions started, and Medusa began to show a little bit of light. Her words were not so harsh, and her relationship with her father seemed to go a little more smoothly and she seemed to smile more.... and just when we thought we were in the clear....
She turned 18 and the grammy camp informed her that she no longer had to attend the sessions... and she didnt.