to say such a thing in a better life would be: is this your first time zip-lining? is this your first time at Disney? is this your first grandchild? is this your first broken bone? is this your first time skydiving? But nooooooooo, last night my words were "is this your first time here" - jail? I had my "first" last night. I decided to go visit the "felon" (dear god help me). It was my first sneeze guard that wasn't buffet related. Talking to my son through glass, on a phone, hooked to a wall. I went because I wanted to, period. I wanted to know what the "F" he did. He doesn't even comprehend what he did but he DID ask me dozens of times to bail him out. He begged me to bail him out like it was a matter of life and death (as expected). I have the money, but, I just wanted to tell him that he better beg with every cell in his soul for his public appointed attorney to let him be forced into a long term program as his sentencing, otherwise he is going to go to a bad bad place. Part of me, the mom in me, wants to bail him out but I know his plan would be suicide or jumping bail. When he was certain I wouldn't bail him out he got angry and said "then why are you here" - he already knows I make every move in life with "love" so it was a rhetorical query. Then he actually hung up on me. For the love of God and all thing sacred! It is not an unusual behavior as every single one of you reading this already knows. I remember walking out saying out loud in front of a whole room of people, "yep, this is my F _ _ _ _ _ g thanks. Got in my car, and had no right being on the road. I was putting my blinker on to turn right when there wasn't even a right road there ! Just so foggy. Just so much pain. When I got home he called me twice, the whole collect puzzle from jail that I don't want to put together. He squeezed in comments as the operator was instructing me which buttons to push. Once he said "mom I'm innocent" - then the second time I didn't quite catch it but it was sounded like "i'll take the girls forever" . Whatever. Earlier in the conversation I asked him (when he kept begging me to bail him out) if he had a job. He said yeah, painting with so and so. I grimaced. He said "call him call him - he's a good guy" blah blah blah- I don't give a rats arse, its an under the table bullcrap job with no future and no benefits for the children. Unless you are the owner of a successful contractors business and take life seriously then your painting on the side is worthless to me. So yeah, my "is this your first time". Hubbs just took the girls to see Frozen and I was excited to stay home and come here and write ! Can you believe that? I don't want to get dressed, do my hair, play with make-up and make a "real" appointment at the psychologist's office when I can come here and get what I need. I can flood out my feelings, emotion, tears, and the like, to a group of people who have got to be the most compassionate people on the planet. "us" , yes, us. I would rather come here. Those psychologists appointments can not do for me what I need. I like to come here and let it all out - I like being alone in my recliner. I like the replies for as silly as that sounds, your words, your encouragement, your compassion, your knowledge, your experience, your truth. I just tend to get my "fix" in more realistic places like this. It really helps me to type and know that you are truly listening and thinking of me because you have "been there" and a 2:15 appointment in a Dr's office can no way give me what I get here. So again, thank you, god is watching you, and I sure hope those of us who've had to suffer from birthing babies that had to grow up with this illness, this disease, this heartache, are privy to a special dwelling, bouncy house, condo, in heaven for some of the worst suffering I think a parent can go through.