Perspective . . .

Last night was not a good night. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was because he got called out on snowing the new worker. He was in a rotten mood. About 1:30 in the morning Robert woke me up and said Dustin ran. He was in his skivies. While our neighborhood is not terribly bad, I fear him running around the neighborhood in his underwear in the middle of the night. I just looked it up and we have 9 registered sex offenders in a .5 miles radius of our home. Scary.

Anyway, he had been gone about an hour and a half before 2 officers chased him done in a dark alley. The officer actually had to run after him. That was new one. Typically he comes to the car when asked.

He spent the next hour telling us how he hated us and wanted to go to "kid jail" because he didn't want to live with us. Once he finally broke down and starting crying he kept saying, "I am afraid you will get rid of me." We reassured over and over that this is his home and he is family. There is no getting rid of him and why on God's green earth would we chase you if we wanted you gone?

Anyway, I posted on facebook and a friend said she had just spent the afternoon at the ball diamond with a toddler, a baby and two preschoolers who were less than happy to be there. She said this put her trauma in perspective. I suppose it is all about perspective and we have no idea how anyone else lives and goes through daily. I am sure there is much worse than my trauma as well.

But, we'll keep plugging away because he is my son.