It's happened. We put Garth in rehab last Friday. I never thought I would come to the point I have to put him in rehab although when I was filling forms for health insurance, I chose the plan with 100% coverage for rehab because way back in my mind, I knew I might need it.
Why? Because of Garth's casual attitude about drugs. He thought Ecstasy was a "soft" drug and was not harmful or addictive. He thought he could control his use of the drug. He used to go to Raves with friends where Ecstasy was apparently plentiful. I tried to talk to him that ANY drug could not be considered "soft" or non-addictive, including weed, or cannabis as my sister likes to call it, and alcohol. I was alarmed about his mellow attitude about the whole idea of using drugs but he was a teenager. Who could talk to teenagers? They think they know everything and are practically adults, our equals.
They could not see beyond the fact that their parents were once upon a time teenagers. We were there at one time and we went through the same trials of teenagehood as they do. Garth liked to say our time was different - a different era. Hey, in that case, his grandmother's time was ancient history. In Grandma's ancient history, there was LSD, heroin, meth, cannabis, cocaine, opiates, acid, mushroom, among a few that came off my head. All of which have carried over the decades to his time which is now. His grandmother smoked cannabis and drank alcohol - that is what we know. I know she did more but wasn't telling. She also smoked cigarettes. She gave up smoking entirely - both weed and cigarettes at one point. She continues to be a social drinker. Tom experimented with weed, cocaine, mushroom and was regular user of weed and a beer drinker. Me? I tried acid, mushroom, cocaine, all of which I tried only once. I smoked weed only occasionally at parties and drank the same way. I smoked cigarettes seldomly when I drank, as had Tom, and smoked cloves a few times. So, what "different era" did Garth thought he knew about?
The only difference is he got hooked, and we three did not. My mother was from the same generation as Tom's mother and she also got hooked and still is today at age of 61. It is quite amazing she has lived that long. Most people as far gone as my mother die within or less than 20 years of continuous usage. Drug addiction is hereditary - of which I tried to get through with Garth. I apparently skipped that gene but Garth clearly did not. I have two siblings who are drug addicts, too. Only Tiffany and I are not.
Even loaded with all this information, Garth still went and took them all. And it bit back in his butt. He ended up in the hospital with bleeding intestine lining and withdrawal symptoms. He is only 16. He tested positive for meth and opiates which is a family of cocaine and Oxycontin of which he confessed to have taken 4 days earlier.
Even while facing all this, he continued to deny needing help. He agreed to go to Project Challenge previously. We were not aware of the extent of his drug abuse until he was taken to ER. I thought all he needed was Project Challenge where he would be provided guidance, discipline, structure, a new slate or start on his future with a GED and some college credits. We knew he drank and smoked weed. We warned him to keep clean because he would have to take urine test one week prior to starting the program. However, when he was hospitalized, we realized he was beyond what PJ could offer him. PJ does not deal with substance abuse. Garth needs therapy, rehabilitation, counseling to get to the root of why he started in the first place. This is where he has to go and start from there to understand himself. Rehab is the place to do it.
So we sent him to rehab in Casa Grande. It was one of the hardest thing I've ever done. I almost backed out. I kept questioning myself if he really needed it - most of the kids in rehab are hard core which I suspect Garth is not quite there yet. I was afraid those kids will corrupt him and make everything worse for all of us. What if they have drugs in the rehab and he just continues using there? I had so many doubts but I knew I couldn't allow him back home in that frame of mind. He needed help.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Wes
My younger son, Wes, is now 28 days shy of his 15th birthday. His brother, Garth, turned 16 5 days ago.
I am pondering on what happened to the sweet Wesley. As an infant and toddler, he was a mom's baby. He loved to be cuddled, unlike Garth who strived to be physically independent and disliked being held or constrained. As a child, he was sweet natured and tender hearted.
When he was 5, he was in a small pre-school program in Tucson. We brought him a birthday cake for his classmates and held a party. When the party was over, the kids went outside to play. I remember Wes playing with a classmate who was in a wheelchair. He said he wanted to help him score points with the basketball by being his legs. He was empathic towards others less fortunate than himself. I was so proud of him that day.
When was in 1st and 2nd grades, he was in a deaf program at Sequoia where I taught for 3 years. He declared to me he wished to be deaf because deaf culture was so cool. He used to draw pictures for me and brought them to me after school - stuff like "I love you mom" or hearts. I loved getting them from him.
His first crush was a biracial deaf girl named Bianca Hamilton. He adored her from afar and never dared to ask her to be his girlfriend. Bianca was in Wes' class during their 2 years at Sequoia before Bianca moved to PDSD and Wes moved to Aguilar.
His first girlfriend was another deaf girl named Sophia Stone. It was quite a brief affair. They met at her parents' house where we celebrated July 4th when Wes was 8. Sophia just turned 9. Garth told me they kissed behind the swimming pool. Wes was excited and emailed Sophia several emails, but sadly, it was apparent for Sophia, Wes was just a novelty. She was not interested in continuing friendship with Wes. I came across a weeping Wes who stared at the computer screen. I bent over and read a nasty email from Sophia calling Wes names. Wes was so bewildered and heartbroken.
I was angry - it was so unnecessary on Sophia's part. I was angry Wes was so sad. I called Deb, Sophia's mother. I drove over to drop off a special bulb that Garth broke from an antique lamp that stood on the upstairs foyer. I asked to speak with Sophia and asked her if there was a better way to ask Wes to stop emailing her than saying all those nasty things she said to Wes. Of course Deb and Jeff played the charade of concerned parents but I think they perceived the incident to be a cute tween stuff. They didn't see how sad and heartbroken Wes was. I came to realize Sophia wasn't the nice girl I thought her to be.
After Sophia, Wes never had anything to do with deaf people anymore. Whenever we visited the Lundquists in Riverside, and even during the one year we lived in Riverside, Wes never wanted to spend time with SAM with whom he once was quite fond of.
Did deaf people change Wes? He is no longer the tender hearted and sweet boy. He is a sour, gloomy, disrespectful, self-absorbed, selfish, and demanding young man. He is not someone I like too much. He is no longer the tolerant person he used to be. He is no longer empathic towards others, especially me. He dislikes everything about me.
He hates the way I eat and chew gums and refuses to sit next to me and demands me to stop chewing gum. He demands me to do his laundry. He blows up when I ask him to do chores or clean up his room.
I've drifted away from him for quite a while now. I hardly go into his room anymore. I hardly talk to him. I stopped going to his football games. I've herded him towards Tom. He seems to relate to him better than he does me. I ask Tom what is up with Wes.
What happened to Wes? I think it is more than just a teenage hormonal thing. I don't see any of the old Wes at all now. It's just gone.
I want the sunny, happy, funny, tender hearted, empathic Wes who used to spend hours on his Legos and read books. He used to be such a ham. He was just a silly little boy. He used to sit at table with us and talk to us. He used to sit by me and watch a movie.
I know it is not good to dwell on the past and to just move forward. Wes is now a teenager and not the same person he once was. It just feels like a death to me. It feels like I've buried Wes and I have someone else in the house who looks like Wes. I feel like a grieving mother. I don't want to get to know this stranger occupying Wes' room. I feel we will never have a parent-child relationship again. Wes simply does not hear or see me. I am just someone who drives him around and does his laundry.
He forgot my birthday. Doesn't remember the date of my birthday. I got him Valentine's Day candy and he didn't even thank me. He never got me any Christmas, birthday, Mother's Day, or Valentine's Day card or gift. A few times, it was Tom who got me gifts "from them."
I just don't count in his life. I don't have any place in his life. No wonder I feel like there has been a death. Tom is always saying when Wes turns 18, he'd leave home and we'd not see him again. I think he spoke true.
I am pondering on what happened to the sweet Wesley. As an infant and toddler, he was a mom's baby. He loved to be cuddled, unlike Garth who strived to be physically independent and disliked being held or constrained. As a child, he was sweet natured and tender hearted.
When he was 5, he was in a small pre-school program in Tucson. We brought him a birthday cake for his classmates and held a party. When the party was over, the kids went outside to play. I remember Wes playing with a classmate who was in a wheelchair. He said he wanted to help him score points with the basketball by being his legs. He was empathic towards others less fortunate than himself. I was so proud of him that day.
When was in 1st and 2nd grades, he was in a deaf program at Sequoia where I taught for 3 years. He declared to me he wished to be deaf because deaf culture was so cool. He used to draw pictures for me and brought them to me after school - stuff like "I love you mom" or hearts. I loved getting them from him.
His first crush was a biracial deaf girl named Bianca Hamilton. He adored her from afar and never dared to ask her to be his girlfriend. Bianca was in Wes' class during their 2 years at Sequoia before Bianca moved to PDSD and Wes moved to Aguilar.
His first girlfriend was another deaf girl named Sophia Stone. It was quite a brief affair. They met at her parents' house where we celebrated July 4th when Wes was 8. Sophia just turned 9. Garth told me they kissed behind the swimming pool. Wes was excited and emailed Sophia several emails, but sadly, it was apparent for Sophia, Wes was just a novelty. She was not interested in continuing friendship with Wes. I came across a weeping Wes who stared at the computer screen. I bent over and read a nasty email from Sophia calling Wes names. Wes was so bewildered and heartbroken.
I was angry - it was so unnecessary on Sophia's part. I was angry Wes was so sad. I called Deb, Sophia's mother. I drove over to drop off a special bulb that Garth broke from an antique lamp that stood on the upstairs foyer. I asked to speak with Sophia and asked her if there was a better way to ask Wes to stop emailing her than saying all those nasty things she said to Wes. Of course Deb and Jeff played the charade of concerned parents but I think they perceived the incident to be a cute tween stuff. They didn't see how sad and heartbroken Wes was. I came to realize Sophia wasn't the nice girl I thought her to be.
After Sophia, Wes never had anything to do with deaf people anymore. Whenever we visited the Lundquists in Riverside, and even during the one year we lived in Riverside, Wes never wanted to spend time with SAM with whom he once was quite fond of.
Did deaf people change Wes? He is no longer the tender hearted and sweet boy. He is a sour, gloomy, disrespectful, self-absorbed, selfish, and demanding young man. He is not someone I like too much. He is no longer the tolerant person he used to be. He is no longer empathic towards others, especially me. He dislikes everything about me.
He hates the way I eat and chew gums and refuses to sit next to me and demands me to stop chewing gum. He demands me to do his laundry. He blows up when I ask him to do chores or clean up his room.
I've drifted away from him for quite a while now. I hardly go into his room anymore. I hardly talk to him. I stopped going to his football games. I've herded him towards Tom. He seems to relate to him better than he does me. I ask Tom what is up with Wes.
What happened to Wes? I think it is more than just a teenage hormonal thing. I don't see any of the old Wes at all now. It's just gone.
I want the sunny, happy, funny, tender hearted, empathic Wes who used to spend hours on his Legos and read books. He used to be such a ham. He was just a silly little boy. He used to sit at table with us and talk to us. He used to sit by me and watch a movie.
I know it is not good to dwell on the past and to just move forward. Wes is now a teenager and not the same person he once was. It just feels like a death to me. It feels like I've buried Wes and I have someone else in the house who looks like Wes. I feel like a grieving mother. I don't want to get to know this stranger occupying Wes' room. I feel we will never have a parent-child relationship again. Wes simply does not hear or see me. I am just someone who drives him around and does his laundry.
He forgot my birthday. Doesn't remember the date of my birthday. I got him Valentine's Day candy and he didn't even thank me. He never got me any Christmas, birthday, Mother's Day, or Valentine's Day card or gift. A few times, it was Tom who got me gifts "from them."
I just don't count in his life. I don't have any place in his life. No wonder I feel like there has been a death. Tom is always saying when Wes turns 18, he'd leave home and we'd not see him again. I think he spoke true.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
June 6, 2007
Today is Wesley's 8th grade graduation from Mohave Middle. I wanted to indoctrinate the proper attire for special occasions. Wes did not plan on dressing for the occasion but was willing to dress for a school party. I went and bought him a nice but not dressy shirt, a pair of Dickies pants, and a pair of Vans style shoes. Nothing fancy but a step up from his everyday constitution of tee shirts, jeans and torn Vans. He took the items last night and went to the party. He didn't wear the pants, gave one pair of the Vans style with the skull patterns to his friend and left the other Vans in the shoebox.
This morning, I woke up to see Wes taking a dress shirt with long sleeves from Garth's closet. The shirt was actually Tom's old shirt. He was wearing his Dickies shorts and the torn blue Vans. I blew up at him. He promised to wear what I bought last night. I told him the shorts was okay, but the shoes definitely had to go - they had holes. He insisted nobody would be looking down at his shoes. I woke Tom up and told him about Wes' insistence upon wearing his old Vans.
They got into a scuffle - pushing and shoving - because Wes wouldn't stay put and talk and was preoccupied with dialing his cellphone. I told him he was not to wear the old blue Vans and he promised to wear the shirt I bought him. The black Dickies pants, I was willing to let go. It was stiff and did not look comfortable to be in. It did not appear to be made of the same materials as his Dickies shorts. He claimed the new Vans did not fit - I had him put them on and they slipped in just fine. He then switched to the style of the shoes - they had the pleats on the front that he did not like. I used his "who looks down?" excuse.
After a lengthy argument, he put on the dress shirt, Garth's dress pants, the new Vans and he actually looked great.
The graduation was extremely boring and too long. There were 390 graduates. The gym was very loud - bad for my vertigo. I hung in there until the very end - I just had to walk out. I took only one picture and that was only waist up when he slipped between the rows of chairs. I tried to take shot of him coming back to his seat after picking up his promotion certificate, but some jerk walked into my viewer and I was unable to move as I was flanked by other people. By the time I could move out into a space, Wes already returned to his seat. I was pissed off. That stupid man. No courtesy or common sense. The final straw was the lengthy slide show - about 20 minutes. A lot of people started getting up and leaving. Who wants to sit through the slide show for 20 minutes? And they were mostly of the popular kids - kids who were high profile. Of course only the families of those kids enjoyed the slide show. I spotted only one with Wes in it - because I recognized the tee shirt he wore - the one with Elvis Presley face on the front.
I went to sign Wes out - only to be told Wes had to be escorted out with a parent. I walked back into the crowd as the guests and graduates were swarming out of the gym. I was suspicious when I first noticed Wes carrying his backpack, and when I spotted him coming out, I tugged his shirt, and he said he was heading out to grab his backpack. I thought, why anxious to get his backpack?
I knew it - he stashed a tee shirt in his backpack and was heading for the bathroom to change shirts. I waited for Tom and his family to come out. Then I went to look for Wes - and my suspicions were confirmed - he slipped into his old baseball practice shirt - of all other nice tee shirts, he had to pick this one? I blew up at him for the second time. I did not even have the chance to take a family picture with him in his nice clothes. I refused to take any pictures of us with him wearing the ratty old baseball shirt.
I was simmering. I looked at Tom and Scott. They were terrible examples. Tom wore an old polo shirt, a pair of jeans, and his everyday athletic shoes. Scott wore a plaid button shirt with tails untucked, jeans and some kind of earth type shoes. Neither set good examples of how to dress properly for a special occasion. Donna wore a nice pantsuit and Lauro wore a nice pique polo shirt, a pair of dress pants, and dress shoes. Even his mother wore a dress. I was mad at Tom and his brother as much as I was mad at Wes.
Tom always makes a big fuss when he has to dress up. He does have 3 pairs of tan Dockers pants and two dress shirts. He does own a pair of dress shoes. It was not as if he did not own any. He used the excuse of planning on going directly to work after the ceremony. I suggested wearing his polo shirt with the Dockers which would be an upgrade over the jeans, but he refused. Why do men make such a big deal about dressing up for a few hours?
I was trying so hard to hold back tears but I failed miserably. I know they thought I was making too much of a deal out of this, but I felt I failed to indoctrinate a sense of decorum in my boys. Garth was willing to wear the nice clothes I bought him for his 8th grade graduation last year and we took pictures of him wearing those clothes. He wore the pants occasionally during the football season - the same pair of pants that Wes wore today. He never wore the nice polo shirt again and mysteriously, the pair of shoes, resembled somewhat to the bowling shoes, disappeared. At least he put up with me and posed for pictures for me and stayed in the graduation attire for a few hours. Wes wouldn't even give me that.
How did I fail so miserably as to raise two disrespectful kids? They both dyed their hair black, Garth sports a lip ring and smokes, and I expect Wes to follow suit soon.
Which is why I want Anthony, a kid who is a friend of Garth, out of our house. He has been living with us for almost a year. He first dyed his hair black and put in the lip ring last summer. He now sports 3. He wears his pants low on his hip to expose his underwear. Garth is a carbon copy of Anthony. I believe Anthony is a bad influence on my boys. The other day, he showed Garth how to roll a cigarette weed-style. He had seen his mother doing it.
Yes, Anthony's mother abandoned him, but my instincts are to protect and preserve my boys. Anthony is not my kid and not my responsibility. I probably wouldn't mind too much if he is an ordinary kid without the lip rings, the dyed hair and the butt-belt pants. I believe his views on the world color my boys' views too. Anthony has had a hard life and has seen things my boys wouldn't see being from an ordinary middle class family. Anthony's mother is a drug addict and a slut. She moves from apartment to apartment on weekly, sometimes daily, basis in exchange for sex and drugs. She lost custody of her younger son to his biological father, and I presume she lost interest in Anthony after losing her younger son.
His sob story tugs at anyone's heart, but I am a mother, and I have 2 sons to raise, and I most definitely do not want my boys to emulate Anthony.
And what adds salt to the wound is Tom is taking everything too lightly. He does not properly discipline the boys when they need it, feels sorry for Anthony without taking into consideration the effect he has on our boys, appears to lack the instinct to protect the boys from Anthony, identifies himself too closely with Anthony due to his own dysfunctional childhood. He sides with the boys.
I became the bad guy because Tom rather be their friend than be a father. He tries to compensate for his absenteeism while the boys were growing up, and is loathe to alienate them. I think he does more harm than good doing this. Sure, he blows up occasionally, and it usually has to do with their grades. As of grades are the only area of concern.
As an cerebral, I am sadden by the fact neither of my boys have any interest in their education. I don't see either of them going to college. They used to talk of going but not lately. Garth is a F student. The decline of his education warrants another post in my diary. Wes, who always had excelled in reading, refuses to read and write reading responses, and to write for his English assignments. Both boys did not play for school sports because of their grades. It is a tragedy because both are excellent athletes.
I guess I've run out of steam now. Time to sign off.
This is the shirt he wore to his graduation. In this picture, he wore it to the 8th grade promotion party the night before. He was quite willing to wear it to the party but not to the actual graduation??!! In this picture is his best friend, Chase Cromwell, at the far left, his girlfriend, Alexa, next to his left, and two friends I am not familiar with on his other side. The party took place at their middle school, Mohave Middle.
This morning, I woke up to see Wes taking a dress shirt with long sleeves from Garth's closet. The shirt was actually Tom's old shirt. He was wearing his Dickies shorts and the torn blue Vans. I blew up at him. He promised to wear what I bought last night. I told him the shorts was okay, but the shoes definitely had to go - they had holes. He insisted nobody would be looking down at his shoes. I woke Tom up and told him about Wes' insistence upon wearing his old Vans.
They got into a scuffle - pushing and shoving - because Wes wouldn't stay put and talk and was preoccupied with dialing his cellphone. I told him he was not to wear the old blue Vans and he promised to wear the shirt I bought him. The black Dickies pants, I was willing to let go. It was stiff and did not look comfortable to be in. It did not appear to be made of the same materials as his Dickies shorts. He claimed the new Vans did not fit - I had him put them on and they slipped in just fine. He then switched to the style of the shoes - they had the pleats on the front that he did not like. I used his "who looks down?" excuse.
After a lengthy argument, he put on the dress shirt, Garth's dress pants, the new Vans and he actually looked great.
The graduation was extremely boring and too long. There were 390 graduates. The gym was very loud - bad for my vertigo. I hung in there until the very end - I just had to walk out. I took only one picture and that was only waist up when he slipped between the rows of chairs. I tried to take shot of him coming back to his seat after picking up his promotion certificate, but some jerk walked into my viewer and I was unable to move as I was flanked by other people. By the time I could move out into a space, Wes already returned to his seat. I was pissed off. That stupid man. No courtesy or common sense. The final straw was the lengthy slide show - about 20 minutes. A lot of people started getting up and leaving. Who wants to sit through the slide show for 20 minutes? And they were mostly of the popular kids - kids who were high profile. Of course only the families of those kids enjoyed the slide show. I spotted only one with Wes in it - because I recognized the tee shirt he wore - the one with Elvis Presley face on the front.
I went to sign Wes out - only to be told Wes had to be escorted out with a parent. I walked back into the crowd as the guests and graduates were swarming out of the gym. I was suspicious when I first noticed Wes carrying his backpack, and when I spotted him coming out, I tugged his shirt, and he said he was heading out to grab his backpack. I thought, why anxious to get his backpack?
I knew it - he stashed a tee shirt in his backpack and was heading for the bathroom to change shirts. I waited for Tom and his family to come out. Then I went to look for Wes - and my suspicions were confirmed - he slipped into his old baseball practice shirt - of all other nice tee shirts, he had to pick this one? I blew up at him for the second time. I did not even have the chance to take a family picture with him in his nice clothes. I refused to take any pictures of us with him wearing the ratty old baseball shirt.
I was simmering. I looked at Tom and Scott. They were terrible examples. Tom wore an old polo shirt, a pair of jeans, and his everyday athletic shoes. Scott wore a plaid button shirt with tails untucked, jeans and some kind of earth type shoes. Neither set good examples of how to dress properly for a special occasion. Donna wore a nice pantsuit and Lauro wore a nice pique polo shirt, a pair of dress pants, and dress shoes. Even his mother wore a dress. I was mad at Tom and his brother as much as I was mad at Wes.
Tom always makes a big fuss when he has to dress up. He does have 3 pairs of tan Dockers pants and two dress shirts. He does own a pair of dress shoes. It was not as if he did not own any. He used the excuse of planning on going directly to work after the ceremony. I suggested wearing his polo shirt with the Dockers which would be an upgrade over the jeans, but he refused. Why do men make such a big deal about dressing up for a few hours?
I was trying so hard to hold back tears but I failed miserably. I know they thought I was making too much of a deal out of this, but I felt I failed to indoctrinate a sense of decorum in my boys. Garth was willing to wear the nice clothes I bought him for his 8th grade graduation last year and we took pictures of him wearing those clothes. He wore the pants occasionally during the football season - the same pair of pants that Wes wore today. He never wore the nice polo shirt again and mysteriously, the pair of shoes, resembled somewhat to the bowling shoes, disappeared. At least he put up with me and posed for pictures for me and stayed in the graduation attire for a few hours. Wes wouldn't even give me that.
How did I fail so miserably as to raise two disrespectful kids? They both dyed their hair black, Garth sports a lip ring and smokes, and I expect Wes to follow suit soon.
Which is why I want Anthony, a kid who is a friend of Garth, out of our house. He has been living with us for almost a year. He first dyed his hair black and put in the lip ring last summer. He now sports 3. He wears his pants low on his hip to expose his underwear. Garth is a carbon copy of Anthony. I believe Anthony is a bad influence on my boys. The other day, he showed Garth how to roll a cigarette weed-style. He had seen his mother doing it.
Yes, Anthony's mother abandoned him, but my instincts are to protect and preserve my boys. Anthony is not my kid and not my responsibility. I probably wouldn't mind too much if he is an ordinary kid without the lip rings, the dyed hair and the butt-belt pants. I believe his views on the world color my boys' views too. Anthony has had a hard life and has seen things my boys wouldn't see being from an ordinary middle class family. Anthony's mother is a drug addict and a slut. She moves from apartment to apartment on weekly, sometimes daily, basis in exchange for sex and drugs. She lost custody of her younger son to his biological father, and I presume she lost interest in Anthony after losing her younger son.
His sob story tugs at anyone's heart, but I am a mother, and I have 2 sons to raise, and I most definitely do not want my boys to emulate Anthony.
And what adds salt to the wound is Tom is taking everything too lightly. He does not properly discipline the boys when they need it, feels sorry for Anthony without taking into consideration the effect he has on our boys, appears to lack the instinct to protect the boys from Anthony, identifies himself too closely with Anthony due to his own dysfunctional childhood. He sides with the boys.
I became the bad guy because Tom rather be their friend than be a father. He tries to compensate for his absenteeism while the boys were growing up, and is loathe to alienate them. I think he does more harm than good doing this. Sure, he blows up occasionally, and it usually has to do with their grades. As of grades are the only area of concern.
As an cerebral, I am sadden by the fact neither of my boys have any interest in their education. I don't see either of them going to college. They used to talk of going but not lately. Garth is a F student. The decline of his education warrants another post in my diary. Wes, who always had excelled in reading, refuses to read and write reading responses, and to write for his English assignments. Both boys did not play for school sports because of their grades. It is a tragedy because both are excellent athletes.
I guess I've run out of steam now. Time to sign off.
This is the shirt he wore to his graduation. In this picture, he wore it to the 8th grade promotion party the night before. He was quite willing to wear it to the party but not to the actual graduation??!! In this picture is his best friend, Chase Cromwell, at the far left, his girlfriend, Alexa, next to his left, and two friends I am not familiar with on his other side. The party took place at their middle school, Mohave Middle.
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