I woke up Wendesday morning about 1 second before the alarm, at 6:44:59 am.

Corinne had asked me not to wake her (or Lauren). Lauren has had a really bad cold, and I had to leave at about 8 so "please just let us both sleep in."

Did some reading. At 7:30 I tried to wake Corinne anyway. We needed to pick up the pickup (heh) at the garage, so she'd have a car to meet us in Norwich at noon. "Mom and Dad will bring me," she mumbled, eyes still closed, before rolling over and going back to sleep.

I called Dad. He would have their car up in Providence all morning. So, at 7:45 I left the house on foot and walked the mile to the garage, and drove the yota home. Corinne was up when I returned, and clearly felt pretty guilty about not getting up. "I thought that must be what you had done," she said when i told her I had walked. I wasn't upset with her, though. She and Shane are/were both very difficult to awaken in the morning.

After switching Lauren's car seat into the Toyota and topping off the Blazer's radiator (there's a leak in the cooling system, somewhere), I left in the Blazer at about 8:25.

Corinne called me at some point. She told me that Steve, our landlord, had been to the house this morning. With a real estate agent. They are going to sell the house, and we'll have to move. We've been here for about 9 1/2 years. OY!

Arrived at Quinlan Cottage (the halfway house where Shannon lived for the last five months) at a little after 10. She was out on the porch with a couple other girls, waiting for me. "Yay!" she yelled, clapping.

The four of us (including the two that were on the porch with her) carried her stuff out to the car. Good grief! She went to prison with nothing but the clothes on her back, and I literally packed the truck full of her stuff for the trip home.

We left at about 10:30.

Shannon and I talked for a little while, and I had her read a letter that Corinne wrote that explained her feelings about last week's "issues." After she read the letter, she said, "I'm going to make you guys proud. No more screwing up, I'm tired of people always being disappointed with me."

Stopped at a highway rest area to get something to eat (and pit stop). Shannon's treat! ;-)

I called Corinne (or she called me, I don't remember) to tell her we'd be in Norwich at about noon.

At a few minutes after 12, we pulled into the parking lot at the Norwich parole office. There was a guy there getting into his car... very slowly. Very, very slowly. Clearly he was waiting for us to get out so he could say something. So, we got out, and he said, "Are you here for parole?" Yes. "Ok. Because you can only park here if you're here for parole." Yes, we're really here for parole. I pointed at Shannon.

So I turned it around on him. "Are you Mark?"

Heh. He looked very confused for a couple seconds. "Ohhhh... oh! You're here to see me." He looked at his watch. "And you're right on time. I'm heading out to Middletown to pick someone up." (So in other words, he was leaving right as we were supposed to show up.) "Go home, and I'll be there in a few hours."

After searching the parking lot for the Toyota, we left hoping to find her on our way home. Instead, we found her in the next parking lot up the hill, just pulling into a space. Hugs all around, then I explained what happened and Corinne and I switched trucks for the drive home so Corinne and Shannon could chat a little. I predicted that Ossifer Sarsfeld would show up at our house around 4.

Arrived at home, lugged all the stuff into the house, had a late lunch, and put Lauren down for her nap.

I was trying to work in my office (in the basement) at 4:20 when I heard the loud knock on the front door. Told shannon he was here, and ran up to answer the door then found Corinne back in the bedroom.

Shannon is not under normal parole, she's under a program called "Transitional Supervision" (TS). She's still technically a prisoner. She's not allowed to leave the state or drive without permission. Not allowed to be near drugs or firearms. Any violation results in immediate return to the clink. He said he will ask his superiors about an exception to allow her to go to Westerly (where our 'church' is) thrice a week, but he was pretty clear that she woudln't be able to take the job she'd been (almost) promised at the Westerly Staples.

She's also required to get a job. So the standard policy is: you must have a job, but you're not allowed to drive. Nice.

We'll find out about the "exception" (to allow Shannon into Westerly) next Wednesday, when she has her first weekly appointment with him in Norwich.

After he left I spent a few hours working on my class, had dinner with Shannon and Lauren (Corinne never eats dinner at a regular hour, even though she cooks it for me almost every day), then left for class (where I was teaching) at 7:15. Class started at 8, finished at 9, and I was home at 10 and in bed a little after 11.

As I said: I had a day. In fact it feels more like two or three days jammed into one.

The good news is that nothing (new) is wrong with Shannon. She simply took the afternoon off work to hang out with some friends.

Of course, that's totally against the rules. Either she got the day (or afternoon) off from Staples and they were covering for her every time I called (entirely possible, as they know her situation), or she did this without even telling them she wouldn't be back after lunch. Plus, it's entirely against the rules of the halfway house: she's still technically a prisoner, and only has permission to go to work and doctor's offices.

"Hanging out with friends" and being very susceptible to peer pressure is, in many ways, what got Shannon into this situation in the first place.

My understanding is that her case worker (counsellor?) at the house had only three options: send her back to regular prison for the rest of her term, give her an infraction ticket (wrist slap), or scold her but do nothing. It appears that she chose the third option.

Shannon's biggest issue is that she's very selfish, thinks only about what will make her happy now, and doesn't care about long term consequences. The proof is that she would do this knowing that she was already a month beyond her scheduled parole date, and that we were just waiting for the home inspection.

Her counselor was supposed to tell her that I wasn't coming down. She just called me to ask if I was still coming. This was my first chance to talk to her.

All she did was drive around Norwalk with her friend Jen, wasting gas for the day. She had the day off from work, so I was right that Staples was just covering for her. Three different people at Staples covered for her, including the manager. Wow.

I've said from the very beginning (including in my letter to the Judge) that the things Mike and Shannon need to learn are not going to be taught in prison. She needs strong role models, discipline, and guidance. At the halfway house, all she has is a bunch of people that believe "bad" means "got caught." (Including the staff!)

People — especially kids — only learn from their mistakes if there are consistent consequences for making them, for breaking the rules.

For example (and I talked to Sean and Jim about this last year, so they may remember it), let's say you have a rule in your house: no bouncing balls in the house. Do you enforce the rule (issue some sort of punishment) for breaking the rule, or do you just tell him to knock it off? In my experience, most parents don't really enforce the rule until the bouncing ball annoys them or the kid breaks a lamp.

Which means, of course, that the rule was "don't annoy your parents" or "don't break a lamp."

The rules at the halfway house include, "don't go anywhere except pre-approved places, and come straight home afterwards" and "don't lie to the staff." Shannon broke the first rule by hanging out with a friend for the day instead of working (and I'm betting this was not anywhere near the first time), and did it by telling the staff that she had to work that day when she wasn't even scheduled.

I'm not writing this to suggest that I'm giving up. Corinne and I talked about it last night... she's close to wanting to give up, but I've reminded her that we never thought Shannon would learn anything (good) by going to prison. It's going to be up to us to straighten her out when she comes home.

Next week.

This means we're going to need strong ground rules, and some way to enforce them.

(At least she's ok. That was concern number one.)

This morning we got a call from a CT Parole Officer. He wanted to do the "home inspection" to make sure we have a safe, legal environment for Shannon to be released into for parole. We've been waiting for this call for about a month now. The officer said he would be here between 2 and 3 PM.

I tried to call Shannon at work (Staples in Norwalk, CT) to let her know it was finally happening, but they said she wasn't there yet.

The parole officer showed up at 11:30. I figured he'd be early, as they want to make sure they're not releasing her into a house of druggies, weapons, etc. They show up early so they can surprise you in the middle of hiding stuff or cleaning up. We have nothing to worry about in that regard, of course, but the cats had just knocked over one of their food bowls, and Lauren's stuff is EVERYWHERE. Still, baby-related clutter is not considered dangerous (if only they knew!).

He disagreed with almost everything we said, mentioned proudly that he's a full law enforcement officer with a gun and a badge (even grabbed at his gun so we'd know where he hides it under his jacket), and said that the halfway house "lied to your faces" about Shannon being able to get a job at Staples in our area. "Yes, she has to get a job or she'll go back to prison, but it won't be at Staples. She'll have to work at a place like the car wash where I just washed my car."

He "approved" us and the house, and said we should expect a call from her parole officer tomorrow (he even gave us his name, as he was already assigned).

I didn't like him (the guy inspecting us), but I don't have to. He's not there to be liked, just to make sure the house is safe and that we really do want to sponsor her. He was gone in less than 30 minutes, but he pushed enough of my buttons that I then had a small argument with Corinne about something as trivial as how I answered one of his questions. Growl.

After he left I tried to call Shannon at work, again. This time they told me that she was too busy to talk to me. I told them this was very important. They said they would have her call back. (Shannon calls me in my office or at home all the time, and knows both numbers by heart.)

At about 2:30, her new parole officer called. (Maybe these guys are just perpetually early. If so, they should be running the whole state government.) He gave me a date and time to pick her up at the halfway house: one week from today, in the morning. Excellent! From there we bring her straight to her orientation at the parole office in Norwich (for all of us), then we can bring her home. He also mentioned that subsequent visits will be in New London, which is a bit closer.

I called Staples a third time, and told them I have an important message for Shannon and must speak to her. "I'm sorry, she's not here." I pressed him, and he said she hadn't come back from lunch. "Do you mean she quit?" I asked. "No, no! We don't know what happened. She just didn't come back."

Oy.

So I called the halfway house, hoping she had gone back there. First I told them who I was, and that Shannon's parole had finally been approved. I gave them the name of the officer, and the date and time we'd be picking her up. I told two people, and the second was her actual case worker, who was pretty excited for her. I told them that I'd tried to call Shannon at Staples to let her know, but that she hadn't come back from lunch and I was hoping I could talk to her there at the house.

She wasn't there. They didn't actually set off an alarm, but they might as well have. There's a phrase they use to describe someone who disppears, even just for an hour, when living at one of these halfway houses: "Escaped Prisoner" or "Escaped Convict." In the background, I could hear people using the words, "possible escapee."

They took my office number and said they would call back when they knew anything so I wouldn't have to worry. That was about an hour ago. I'm worrying.

In fact, I am currently as stressed and anxious as I can remember being in the last couple of years.

It's possible that nothing significant happened. She sometimes has appointments with her doctor, dentist, or therapist. She may have forgotten to tell them that she wouldn't be back right away. If that's the case, or something like it, then they'll slap her wrist and be done with it.

Blood pressure guages within five miles of my house are all going haywire while I wait for news.

“Life at the Dillingham House”

(At least, that's what I was trying to say. Flip?)

It's 2008 already. When did that happen?

Lauren is over ten months old already. Not walking by herself yet, but she's learning to imitate us: she waves, whispers "kitty", and of course says "dadadadadada" all the time. She can crawl at about 32 mph. Her favorite thing is playing "boo" with me or Corinne. Her least favorite thing is seeing any of her toys stacked up. Just put one block on top of another, and she'll streak across the room to knock them down.

Shannon should be coming home this month. Still waiting for the home inspection.

Mike is still up at Osborn C.I., but he's been moved into "the program", so he has a little more freedom, more social interaction, and a little less boredom.

Corinne spends most of her days cooking and taking care of Lauren (somebody's going to misread that and find it funny or disturbing), napping in the afternoons, then enjoying her time off in the evenings.

Me? I'm pretty much on the same schedule i've been on since Lauren started sleeping through the night (at six weeks). Up around 7, work most of the day, come up in the evening to have dinner and watch (play with) Lauren until it's time for her to go to bed. Then I tell myself I'm going to work until I go to bed, but I end up playing Scrabble (online, it's actually called Scrabulous) until bedtime.

PMC registration has already opened, and I've already started (casually) looking for sponsors.

Now you're all caught up. Any more questions?

It's only Saturday night, and it's already been an excellent weekend.

• Art and Sarah (brother-in-law and Sister) had their third child (Lydia Sarah Peña) on Thursday. Technically not the weekend, but I didn't see her until Saturday so I'm claiming it.
• I got a new (to me) lens for my camera. Love. It.
• After almost three weeks, my Toyota pickup is back on the road.
• We got a phone bill for $890, and that doesn't include my (relatively inexpensive) cell phone.

OK, well, three out of four isn't bad.

I was going to write about each of those things in more detail tonight, but I've totally run out of steam so I'm putting it all off until Sunday.