I didn't think these post would continue, at 14 Nick doesn't want to be talked about, can't get him to write about himself... can't get him to do much of anything, really. The photos are dwindling, Covid doesn't help, and each day feels routine. But we'll go a little longer. We did celebrate briefly for his birthday, his mother got him balloons and hid them in my closet, which he found ahead of time, even though he never goes in my closet. I imparted on him how critical it was for him to act surprised when she brought them out. Good life lesson. Otherwise, life lessons are slow, since he's dialed out most of the time. His grandpa is willing to pay him for piano practice, but he doesn't. I have a very short list of chores that can earn him money, but he doesn't. He did blow $450 on a model train, so his fun money is gone, not sure how he'll earn it back. All that said, he's making the grade at school, was Student of the Week at karate, and listening to him tickle the ivorys is beautiful. And he shoveled the snow, once. Work in progress.
Grandmama came to stay for a month to help Brandi work on the house. It was a game of musical beds to find her a comfortable spot, which came to an end when she fell asleep with a box of Cheeze-Its and turned Nick's bed dressing yellow/orange. Nick whispers to me, "she's going to the cot, I'm taking my bed back." She's so good to him, though, soldering his train parts, talking for hours about nothing. At dinner one evening, Nick motioned to the last steak on the table, and I pointed to his grandmother, to suggest he should offer it to her before he takes it. Instead, he looks at what's left on her plate and says, "You gonna eat that?"
As we try to toughen him up, his mother says he's afraid of me, which I disagree. If he was genuinely afraid of me, would he look at me when I'm pissed at say, "If I could draw some eyebrows on you it would be easier to read your emotions."
Jason
