Haven't posted in a few weeks, because I have been overwhelmed with what has gone on since my last post. There doesn't seem to be anyone out there reading this anyway, but still, I did decide to do this for myself and to sort of journal the events of what has been going on. It seems to be taking the form of my older son, the Prince.
Well, while he was still on punishment from when I found the home made bong, and the empty beer can shoved behind my couch last week, when he left for school Friday morning, I told him that I would be leaving the house open and that he was expected to let himself in right after school where he should plan on staying for the weekend. He had been in the process of breaking up with the princess all week, and I suspected he was high and or drunk the day before when I got home. Friday while I was at work, my cell phone rang at around 1 p.m. and it was his girlfriend calling. I was surprised to see her # on the caller id, and thinking it was my son calling I picked it up quickly, and was surprised again to hear her voice, and not my sons when I picked it up.
She asked me if the prince was home sick from school, and told me that she didn't want to upset me, but that he didn't go to school, and that she thinks he was home at my house having a party and that some girl kept picking up the phone at my house and they all sounded high. Nice. In a perfect world, I would have liked to have thought she was just trying to get him in trouble because of the new chick that he had been hanging around with, but I know my son, so I immediately left my office and headed home. Sure enough, when I got there, there were 6 or 7 kids in my house, drinking, smoking pot and cigarettes, trashing my house, and they had made a Molotov cocktail which was sitting on my kitchen table. I lost it. I went completely berserk. Screamed like a mad woman using language I didn't think I was capable of and basically told them to get the F out of my house and to never darken my doorstep again. The prince actually seemed slightly humbled and cleaned up and seemed to realize that he was wrong. That is until I started calling the other kids parents to inform them of their children's activities that day.
At this point my son freaked out, told me I was "Fucking everything up for him" and told me if I called the little sluts parents, he was leaving. I told him that he should do what he had to do, but that I was calling, as it was my responsibility as a parent and an adult to do so. So I did, and he did. He left, stayed away for three days.