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05/16/08 Population Control.

KidFour moved in almost five months ago. When she arrived, I told her she needed to meet certain expectations in order to be able to stay. This was because our financial situation was so dire; because she would be sharing a room with KidThree, who needed her room maintained in a certain way in order to maneuver around in her wheelchair; and because I already had more than enough on my plate. She agreed to all, saying she understood the necessity and would be so happy to help, wanted to get a job, etc.

It was all total baloney.

KidFour didn't do a thing. Didn't do housework, including the particular chore she claimed to love doing. Didn't maintain her part of the shared bedroom. Didn't do chores when specifically asked to. Didn't go to school regularly. Would get job applications when pressured, but would not return them to the businesses.

I gave it four months, then told her that it wasn't working here and she would have to leave at the end of the school year. Her eyes got big; she stared into space for a bit; then went into her room. After a bit I sent her a text message. She responded, then after a couple of text exchanges asked what I expected of her. I replied that I expected her to do what she had promised, to contribute, to get a job.

Her attitude appeared to change after that, but I was hesitant to believe it was a real change. It has become apparent that the change was not real. This evening KidFour has gone to her boyfriend's home for the weekend, which has seriously reduced the amount of tension in the home here. Good to have a break.

KidFour is going to have to go at the end of the school year (four weeks away). She may or may not be attending school; I have to find out next week. I need to talk to the specific teachers to get that information.

This is going to be so hard to do. KidFour is a relation and I've loved her all her life. She didn't really have permission to move in--it was supposed to be a few days' visit--but I welcomed her anyway. I hate that it hasn't worked out. Just hate it. I don't want to be the big bad relative, but I have priorities. KidThree comes first. Sorry, KidFour.

Oh I am not looking forward to that. Blast. I don't know where she will go. Her grandmother? Her mother doesn't want her back. Her father doesn't want her back. I'll take her back to her father's home and let him deal with her. Oh My.

A

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