What a day!

Well yesterday started off with a telephone call from a screaming patient. I thought after that the day would have to get better. I made a quick trip to Wal-Mart at lunch to pick up a few things for dinner. That went pretty smooth :) Just when I arrived home to unload my purchases my cell phone rang. It was Jerry. I am not coordinated at all and decided against better judgement to take the call, which meant holding the phone with one hand and unloading the car with the other. All was going well until I picked up a box of diet A&W. The box ripped and before I knew it there were cans of soda all over the driveway. One even rolled away hissing and spraying soda along the way. It landed in front of the neighbors. I know I should have retrieved it, but I just couldn't bring myself to make the short trip to do so.
We are in the process of purchasing a home and I received a phone call related to this on the way back to work. It was not really a call I wanted to take, but thought better of ignoring it. It was Al "the informer". I refer to him as the informer because he is a highly intelligent individual who insists on going into much more detail than I or any other typical person require. Bottom line is that he scolded me like I was his child for placing a telephone call to the mortgage company that he felt I should have placed to him instead.
Back to work for me.....the rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful. Thank goodness it was five o'clock and time to go home and prepare dinner :). Claire was a little quite after the prior nights events. After about twenty minutes she opened up and started talking to us about her day at school. Poor Ryan wasn't feeling to good, but we managed to enjoy our meal while watching the Little League World Series on t.v. It was the perfect ending to a semi-tragic day at work.

Clueless

O.k. so I have been in small town USA aka Hobbs, NM for two years and seven months. I really thought that by now we would be past all the rough patches of adjustment. Boy did I think wrong! (Not using the children's real names for their sake.) When I first moved here Claire was 8 and Ryan was 10. They are now nearly 11 and 13......boy how time quickly time passes.
Yesterday evening Jerry was stuck at work and Ryan had baseball practice so I offered to pick the kids up. I pulled up and saw Claire's smiling face peek out the window. Next thing I know she is headed to my car with her body shaking and tears forming in her pretty brown eyes. I rolled down my window as she walked up and said to her please don't cry. Hold it in and tell me what's wrong. She then explained that her mom had told her she couldn't go with me and that Ryan had to come home right after practice. I asked if they had gotten into trouble and she said no. She was sobbing and explained that her mom started yelling at her because I was there to pick them up. She said that her mom told her that if Jerry couldn't take Ryan to practice then he should have called her and asked her to take him. Please keep in mind that prior to my moving here Jerry said that she never took the kids to any of their practices and rarely showed up to their games. Since I have moved here, her and her boyfriend typical go to the games, but still rarely take them to any of their practices.
So yesterday evening was a quite one at home. I cooked dinner, not for four, but instead only for two and tried to figure out in my mind why I am so despised. I don't try to pretend I am the kids mother. They have one, no matter how much I disagree with her behavior or how she treats the kids they are, and will always be hers. The only thing I have done is try to be a positive role model and love them and their father without condition. So even though I go to bed worried about whether or not Claire is still feeling sad about having to stay home I sleep comfortably knowing that I am guilty of nothing more than trying to be a descent human being who considers everyone involved in this less than desirable situation.