My sister, Drama Queen, lives four hours away. Before she moved away her two daughters were constantly at my house. She was working full time at a hospital and going through nursing school so she needed a babysitter 6 to 7 days a week. Then when the girls were 3 and 6 she moved away. Her live in boyfriend was going to college and she was going with him. After a year they broke up, but she did not move back home. She liked living in the city, and away from us.
In past posts the girls have gone by Princess and Curly top. Now that they are older they need better names. Leanne and Laray are what I am now going with. Naming people is one of the hardest parts of writing.
Living alone in a city with two children is hard. She never has built up a social network she can rely on to help with the kids. Without noticing it she lashes out and pushes people away. This makes it hard for her to have close friends. Several times over the years I have tried to get her to move closer so we can help more. Not that we have not helped. It is just that driving four hours when she needs a sitter is not practical.
When Laray was four Drama Queen developed a drinking problem. This has made raising the girls harder for her. They have moved in with me for extended time periods over and over again because of this. They had been living with me for three years until last August. Drama Queen had announced she was pregnant back in November. I told the girls they had to put the crib in their room. While pregnant my sister did really well. No drinking at all.
Not long after Ralee was born we started getting angry or crying phone calls. This is never a good sign. On my next visit up she assured me she only drinks a few beers after the baby is asleep then goes to bed herself. The girls are amazingly good with the baby. My sister is too. She cooks, cleans, puts the baby to bed, drinks a bit, and sleeps. Not ideal, but it is working for now.
The day Jason died I talked to her for an hour. She does not deal with anything well, especially not loss. I talked to her everyday on the phone trying to help her deal with it. She could not make up her mind on whether to come to the funeral or not. I felt that the girls needed to be here with their cousins. Family should come together and talk, laugh, and cry at times of pain. I cleared it with Drama Queen then sent Fria Chica to pick up the girls. The morning of the funeral Drama Queen drove down, went to the funeral, took her girls home with her.
Not long after that the hateful texts and phone calls started coming. She blamed the family for Jason's death. She was sure he would still be alive if anybody had taken drug and alcohol abuse seriously. She told me that not one of us had done anything to help him. It was startling and hurt at first, but we know we should have expected this from her. It is what she does. We tried to keep brushing it off.
One Friday night she called me at 9:30 p.m. and asked me to come pick up the girls. She was crying. She was drunk. I was not sure what to do. I knew that getting the girls would be a good idea, but also that Drama Queen is erratic. After the long drive she could refuse to let me in. I also thought driving straight there and back would put the girls in a dangerous situation. I had to be to work at 8 the next morning, and was already tired. I have done this before, but I really felt it was too risky.
Instead of leaving right away I waited. At 11:30 she told me not to come. Had I left when she wanted me to I would have been halfway there. The next day she was fine.
Wednesday morning she wants me to come pick up the girls again. It is 6:00 a.m. I have to work. She is extremely drunk. I tell her she needs to figure out something for the day, because I can not be there until the evening. I offer to send Fria Chica. "I hate her right now." Is her answer.She explains that she is going to kill herself and does not want the girls to see it. My response may sound callous but we have had similar conversations in the past. I tell her she needs to keep it together for one more day, and I will be there this evening. She hangs up.
Two minutes later she calls back. She says that she has just swallowed a bottle of pills and I had better call in sick and come get the girls. I try to ask her questions, but she will only say that she is going to be in the basement dead when I get here.
There is a good chance she is lying to manipulate me. What if I am wrong? If I am right she is still too drunk to handle a five month old baby while the girls are at school. I call the police.
I was right. She had not taken any pills. She is put into a facility to watch and assess whether she is suicidal or not. I send Fria Chica after the girls.
I talked to her doctor that day. He does not believe she is suicidal. He thinks it is something she says while drinking. He notices it has happened more than once in her file. He tells me he is going to keep her a couple of days for observation to make sure.
Now it is Sunday. I have not been able to contact her. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Nobody answers the number I have for the facility. Maybe it is just a call out line? I do not know if the girls are here to stay or not. I need to enroll them in school if they are.