Yesterday I had a much-needed hair appointment. I am a low-maintenance woman with high-maintenance highlights, so they tend to get several inches of roots before I force myself to make an appointment. I keep saying this is the last time, that I will color it all back to one color so I can go back to coloring it myself, but I have to admit, I really like how it looks highlighted, especially right after I get my hair done.
My stylist told me I look great and asked if I have lost even more weight since she saw me last, in July. I told her no, I have gained, and she said she couldn’t tell. Yeah, right! I wanted to tell her it’s okay, I will still give her a good tip, ha ha.
After writing about my older stepson yesterday, I got a text as I left the salon from my husband, telling me to meet him and my stepson at a restaurant near our house. I hadn’t expected to see my stepson, so it was a nice surprise.
I think he might be getting a little nervous about leaving next week, and unfortunately, it sounds like Psycho and that mentally-challenged side of the family are feeding those doubts and insecurities. They are harping on him about leaving, about being gone so long, acting like he’s doing something wrong or offensive to them. His dad reminded him this should be exciting, a beginning, not an ending. Good lord, what is wrong with those assholes? Why make him feel guilty or scared instead of excited and proud and ready to start his own life?
I could tell he didn’t want to leave after dinner. He wanted to stay overnight with us, but Psycho blew up his phone with god-knows-what texts, and his face fell, that defeated look I know so well, and he said he had to go. He stood in the parking lot a long time, chatting, keeping the conversation going, like he didn’t want us to go…or, more likely, like he didn’t want to go, back to her, back to them.
I tend to focus on my weight loss efforts in this blog instead of the drama and crap we deal with from Psycho, but all I have thought about today is my stepson. I am worried about him, about all four kids. I got a dark, nagging feeling last night that something was wrong. You know when someone keeps talking to you, but they dart their eyes, seem agitated, can’t stick to a subject, and talk really fast, like they really want to say something else?
I thought of telling him about my challenge, but I decided to wait until he is finished with boot camp and sees the results for himself. He has plenty enough on his mind right now, and it didn’t seem like the time or the place to gab about weight loss challenges!
Sweat & Sparkle 