You Can't Push Someone Up a Ladder

I'm tired. All the time. And no, it's not an autoimmune disorder or bad sleep hygiene. It's that I never actually rest my eyes and my body, both at the same time, for a full night. And do you want to know why? Teenagers. More specifically, my teenager.

I'm like a firefighter, or what I think a firefighter is like, at night. My clothes and shoes are always nearby. I've got my phone on the bedside stand - fully charged and ready with the ringer on. I am able to leap from bed at a moment's notice and handle whatever situation comes my way. Well, most of the time.

The usual situation is talking to police officers at my door at all hours.  They come to my house so frequently now that we're on a first name basis. I'm even getting to know the State Troopers so I guess that's a bonus? Two visits ago the police officer said he really felt bad for me asked if he could give me a hug. Of course I agreed because a) he's very nice, b) he's cute and c) I was happy to know someone was on my side. Bullet proof vests aren't very snuggly though so it wasn't as comforting as I hoped it would be.

The last visit was on a Sunday morning at 4:00am. My son crept into my room and whispered "The police are at the door. Here's your robe. I didn't do anything bad, he just had to bring me home." Because this is my life now. I stumbled out of bed, clutching my robe, rubbing my eyes and sat down at the table to see what was going on. Let's see, this time, my son had been picked up at a local park with two (older) girls who were drinking. He had not been drinking. (No, I'm not your typical idiot parent that trusts her kid. They did a breathalizer on him, that's how I know)  Anyway, the officer had to drive him home because my son was not supposed to be driving after 10:00 pm. The only up side was that the officer confiscated the hard lemonade from the girls and brought it to my house. I enjoy hard lemonade. So...silver lining?

I've had the police at my house when my son and his buddies destroyed a mailbox (my aunt and uncle's), when my son ran away, when my son's friend was in trouble, etc. I really could go on and on but I'm just too tired. Suffice it to say that they don't have to ask for my name or birthdate anymore. Timesaver!!!

There are days when I just don't know what else to do with this kid. Many, many days. On those days I usually throw in the towel, give up and beg a family member to keep him for "just one night" so I can get some rest. I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if he'll be ok or if he'll continue to spiral out of control. I hope that, one day, he'll figure it all out and get on the right path. But on days like today, I have to remember that I'm only human, that I'm doing this alone, that I have another kid to worry about and that I have to put my own oxygen mask on before I can save anyone else.