Living with a teenager who is detoxing from years of meeds is like shooting yourself in the foot.
First is the blank stare, directly followed by the utter howl of pain and frustration. I am at the utter howl.
Trying a new concept, not buying in. Not working as well as hoped, course my ears can only handle an hour of ShrillShreeky (you know the noise attached to your a name when they are sent to bed. )
I want quiet insanity, well behaved children, who sit quietly. Stepford children look pretty good to me now. But who would liven my day then? I would probably. Go crazy trying to figure out why they aren't try ing to kill me
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