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A friend of mine – also married to an alcoholic – suggested to me that I write a book about how to raise children in an alcoholic household.

While I greatly appreciate her faith in me, I kind of laughed and said,

“I’m not doing that good a job myself.”

My children loath each other.

I’ve said it before but it can bear repeating:

It’s not simple sibling rivalry.

They are creating resentments in one another and in themselves toward each other that I fear will never be able to be un-done.

Two cousins – brothers – came over yesterday to spend the rest of their school vacation with us.  Tonight the older brother felt sick and asked that I take him home.  I told his little brother that he was welcome to stay but he said,

“No, I don’t like to stay without my brother.”

And this kid LOVES to come to our house, let me tell you.

But not without his brother.

The irony is their father is an alcoholic as well.

(I know. It seems alcoholics are like rats. EVERYWHERE.)

And quite the ugly one too, I will say.  I’ve heard him call his kid “fucking stupid,” stop being a “fucking idiot,” etc., etc.

Yeah, good stuff.

And yet those brothers have each others backs.  Those brothers are there for one another.  I feel like my kids wouldn’t throw water on one another if they were on fire.

I came home tonight from taking the boys home.

My husband “two sheets to the wind.”

He went to bed.

Normally I spend time with each of my children one on one.  Rarely do I do anything with any combination of them or all of them together.  But hope springs eternal.

I thought we could all watch a movie or something together tonight.

Enjoy the Christmas break.

It started with the chair.

Who was going to get to sit in the chair.

(Of course we have plenty of chairs but only one is the chair.)

From there it escalated into what movie we would watch.

I finally said,

“Turn off the tv and everyone go to bed.”

I don’t know how to help them.

I really don’t.

 

 

 

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