Hannah

Hannah has been with us for six months today. I count every moment of those six months as a success. Every moment she isn't living with her former addict mother. Every moment she has a room of her own, a roof over her head, good food to eat, clothes that belong only to her, and always shoulders to cry on and ears that will listen. Every moment that she's learning to live her life for herself, as a teenager should, while learning respect and her place in a big family unit.

I'm not bragging. I now believe that Hannah has everything that a teenage girl should have. And we aren't talking about new cars and fancy shit spilling out of her closet. This girl works for what she has, and does it with respect and appreciation.

Ideal teenager? Just about. Normal teenager? Well, we're getting there.

She thanks me every night for making dinner. Thanks me a million times a day for stuff my other kids expect. She helps out, isn't a punk (amen and thank you JESUS), and does well in school.

If anyone thinks I'm EVER letting her go back to Texas, they've got another think coming.

Her stepfather, sister, half-brother and sometimes her mother (who, the rest of the time is still in a halfway house), are now living in a Motel 6. Their 2084758th residence in a year. Haley has to repeat the 10th grade. Hannah's mother is constantly playing head games and putting the girl on horrid guilt trips on the phone. Rehab WERKS.

Six months of win. Maybe we can start to make up for all the years we had no clue what was going on. Our fault? You bet. 1700 miles is nothing. We should have paid more attention, trusted less, talked more.

Becoming an instant full-time parent to a teenager was like splashing cold water on your face. But I wouldn't trade it for the entire world.