Boiling on the inside

Today my son admitted in horror that he thinks he threw his retainer away (AGAIN). We were at the school. We rushed to the trash cans, alas they'd been efficiently dumped. I find the janitor. She says that 3 of the many bags inside the dumpster are from today. I dug through the three but not one held that $350 contraption. I am BESIDE MYSELF. I am stewing. My son is scared out of his whits. I say to him..."I am not mad at you" (a little white lie because I knew that it would send his already fragile demeanor into MUSH), "but am very frustrated."

I'm having a very hard time talking myself down from this one because I am at some point going to have to accept it. I think I've been going through the stages of grief and I'm stuck in the anger/bargaining phase. I can sense my body relaxing into acceptance...but I have plans to perhaps take one more dumpster dive tomorrow and rip into other bags that I did not have access to. Here is one reason to be grateful that our Waste Management workers are on strike...there is always some way to find good in a messy situation.

Today is the first day in a long time where I had visions of an alcoholic beverage to ease my nerves...instead I settled for a bag of chips...I'm still having some wine, but it isn't based on NEED anymore...it is just a little mood shifter. Thank goodness I love my son dearly or else things could have been MUCH WORSE today...and again I say, paybacks from my childhood are definitely coming due and my parents are probably sitting there reading this with a sly grin!