Well not really back. Still retired from surrogacy. After all my wishy-washyness, thankfully a doctor advised me not to carry again and that was the end of the wishy-washy. Or did he? That's another story that is too long to get in to. Long story (very, very, very long story) short is that I am done. I know I've said it before. I know I'm a complete flake when it comes to this. But I think for my health and the sake of my family I need to be done. And I'm ok with that.
So what's up in my world now that I'm not obsessing about populating the world with babies for gay men? Lots. Lots. And lots. We have employed kids...we have scuba classes...we have work galore...and we have a prison escape (maybe?) story that is very Shawshank Redemptionish. So buckle up and hang on.
Boy 2 has a job. An actual, honest to goodness job. He installs gutters and comes home and tells me these horrible stories about hanging over the edge of roofs, etc., that make me cringe. He is happy with the job though, makes good money, and has eased the burden on my checkbook. That's all good, right? Boy 3 is frothing at the bit to work. He is watching the whole working = spending money situation evolve with Boy 2 and he is very anxious to turn 16 and have his turn. Not long now.
Scuba classes you say? Yep. When I finally laid the idea of surrogacy to rest, I decided to start working on the bucket list. Item one is to learn to scuba dive. I am exploring class option as we speak. Item two on the bucket list is to get another motorcycle. I really miss mine. We are picking that up on Thursday. At this rate I may need to add more to the bucket list. :)
Work galore...check. I am averaging 48 hours a week at the plant and then probably 15 to 20 typing. It's all good since kids are EXPENSIVE but when I get a moment of free time, I really enjoy it.
Prison escape? Do tell.
This story requires no embellishment. If it wasn't so wrong and stupid and well...bad, it would be funny.
So in typical Boy 1 fashion, he can't just behave and do what he is supposed to. Even in prison. So he was on cell restriction which basically means you can't leave your cell except to shower and eat (what...the cells aren't locked? Yeah...I didn't know that either). Anywho, he decides that he has had enough of this whole cell restriction thing and should head to the gym. I had not heard from him in a while but knew he was on cell restriction and could not call so I was not worried. A week or so ago, the husband comes home for lunch and there's a orange envelope in the mailbox with URGENT scrawled on it. Inside is a violation report from inside the prison. Apparently Boy 1 left his cell and someone told on him. (Imagine from here on in official prison lingo). The guard approaches his cell and knocks. No answer. Guard enters cell and yells for the boy to get up. No answer but he can see him lying on the bed. Guard kicks the bunk. No answer. Guard pulls back blankets to find a perfect mannequin made up of clothes. This thing has a jacket on, shoes, the whole nine yards. So they go looking for the idiot and he is headed back to the cell from the gym. Did I mention he's an idiot. They could charge him with out of bounds or escape. Even though he was heading back, because of the elaborate dummy, they charged him with escape. Not sure what the consequences are for that. This kid/adult...he has me so confused. We tried literally everything and from age 13 on he would not behave. Just would not. In the nature versus nurture argument, he is a quandary. If it is nature, then why is his full biological brother a straight A student, excellent athlete, and a hard worker? If it is nurture...um I raised him from birth the exact same as I raised his brother. So not nature...not nurture...perhaps just born a certain way? I'm not trying to pass blame off of myself. I made mistakes and I admit I did. But who doesn't as a parent? He was loved and always had everything he needed, though maybe not everything he wanted. I have never really broken a rule in my life other than a speeding ticket or two. I don't drink and never have. I can't imagine ever trying a cigarette, much less drugs. So where does this kid come from? And how can I understand him? At this point I just settle for writing him letters and telling him I love him but he has to change his life if he wants to be a part of ours. Maybe he will some day.
And that is about it for the update. I still hear from the parents of four of the six surrogate kids regularly. I only hear from the dad of the Boston twins about once a year but that is fine...I always said up front that the degree of relationship is totally up to the parents...these are their families and I am happy to have any level of contact that they will grant me.