Sobriety check!

I was driving down El Camino in Redwood City last night and was funneled between traffic cones and stopped by the police. There was a news van and police cars everywhere. I thought that somebody had been run over. I rolled down my window and the officer asked me if I'd had anything to drink this evening. Oh, sobriety check point. I got this one! I replied "I haven't had anything to drink in almost two years." After a stressful, difficult week that felt pretty good.

The latest: my baby is a bit of a dictator -- bossy, imperial, and proud. He's been getting away with this for years because he's so cute and my ex and I are cream-filled, undercooked pushovers. Big guns doesn't like it. On top of that, my baby doesn't like big guns for obvious reasons -- he's dating his mother, he's not his father and, probably most pertinent, big guns has his number. My baby hung up the phone on big guns on Xmas eve. I saw it and it wasn't good. It meant I was really going to have to do something. But why now? Why big guns? Why Xmas eve? Big discussions with my baby and his brother. Big tears. Big emotions. Baby steps toward our new life. His big brother's words of wisdom: "Why don't you just try being nice and see what that gets you?" Then, in response to his brother's complaint that big guns isn't always nice to him, big brother said those two things are not related. (I'm just learning that now.) That kid -- I used to call him the Dalai Lama. I wish I could take credit for it but he's been a Buddha from birth. I was born negative, he was born wise.