Should I or Shouldn't I

Well, I'm second-guessing myself.  I'm always preaching consistency and following through with consequences, but it doesn't always work that way.  Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, whether it's right or wrong in the long run.  

Ty got in my face again (louder and closer than the last time) and James got between us because he thought Ty was about to hit me.  Ty shoves and James deflects long enough for me to get away. I'm reaching for the phone to call 9-1-1 when Ty runs to his bedroom, slams the door, and starts sobbing.  I take a few moments to clear my head and slow down my heart a few beats, and weigh the pros and cons of continuing with the phone call.  Should I, or shouldn't I call. 

After playing five minutes of mental tennis, I opt to wait, and instead decide to talk with James about what just happened.  James informs me that Ty didn't take his medication today, and maybe not at all this week.  (James had previously agreed to monitor the meds and has the combination to the lock box.)  He and Ty both woke up late most days this week because James didn't have to work, and James forgot.  We're all forgetting a lot these days, so how can I be mad at either one of them.  (Setting a phone alarm suddenly makes perfect sense to both of us, but then hindsight is always 20/20.)

After James apologizes profusely and promises to never forget again,  I look at his panicked face and just hug him.  "No worries, sug.  I got this."  That "mother guilt" kicks in and I remind myself that I promised James he wouldn't have to be the parent when I'm not home. "I'll just wake him up before I go to work and give him his pill from now on."  Problem solved.   

So, I grab Ty's pill from the lock box and decide we all need  a second chance. I exhale enough air to fill a grocery bag, and gently knock on Ty's door.

Ty's face is red and mottled, and his eyes are puffy and wet with tears.  He lifts his face and stares at me with that, "Are you sending me away?" look.  I sit next to him and put my hand on his back.  His shirt is soaked with sweat and he is trembling.  The words come without me even thinking.  

"James told me you didn't take your pill today.  I know it's a little late in the day, but let's try it now and see what happens, okay?"   Okay.  We'll be okay.  We'll all be okay.

And we are.  It ain't anywhere close to Norman Rockwell, (probably even the Simpson's) but it's ours.  No consequences today.  Just forgiveness.