Holding my breath

He did it. He actually did it! All on his own accord, (minus the ultimatum from me) R called a friend, got a phone number for a counselor, and actually called the counselor. Granted he had to leave a message, but to me, him doing this is a giant leap toward what I hope to be healing waters. He has been so adamantly against going to a counselor, mostly because he has some major misconceptions as to what it's all about. He has this notion in his mind that the counselor is going to make him aware of some horribly awful stuff that he 'might' have lurking deep down within him. Stuff that he is very afraid of 'finding out'. He's not even sure what that 'stuff' might be, or even if there is 'stuff'! So, I am thanking my lucky stars (and my heavenly Father) that he has made this first step.



Wading away from such heavy stuff now... S is looking so punky today. The impetigo has taken over a huge portion of his little nose. He's taken quite the stance against willingly accepting his antibiotic and he protests loudly and wildly when I have to put the topical cream on and in his nose. You'd think that I was torturing the poor kid to hear him put up such a fuss. I have to put on my heavy-duty mom hat to hold down all of the writhing limbs and such! I'm always ready to wipe his tears away and cover him with kisses when I'm done...



R has decided that he's going to look for another job. NOT in car sales. He's realized that he's not cut out for sales and he was surprised at how utterly slow business was in the first place! Some days would go by with nary a customer on the lot, so between the several dealers there at any one time, it would seem vultures worked there.

Here we go again with the nerve twisting, faith stretching uncertainty of our livelihood...