Happy Father's Day

 Father's Day can sometimes be as challenging as Mother's Day.  My dad passed in 2009 and I only felt relief.  The saving grace is Kevin's dad.  As I often say: he can make us want to scream and drink but for the most part: he's the epitome of a good dad.

He's 85 years old and as we've mentioned, he's starting to wind down.  He's still active and doing better moving through this world without his wife. He's still 85.

He's a man who makes sure his family is taken care of, even to his own detriment.  He brings his "daughters" flowers for special occasions, he brags about his sons to waitresses and in the doctors office.  He works in whatever capacity he can to make sure he's "pulling his own weight".  We can't count how many times we've heard "I want to be like him when I'm his age..."

We have a sign that we had made years ago for the parents when they first lived with us.  It became something we all said when another of us helped, did something nice, or even sarcastically.  I rescued it from their house and refurbished it before they took it away.  Now it hangs on our house.

Retrospect via Social Media Melodrama

 There's been some drama on the clock app and I am fascinated. If there is drama, I usually scroll right past it.  Life is too short.  My clock app is set to topics like dogs, writers, libraries, wanderers, photographers, and the such.  I've designed it so that the feed provides a peaceful activity.

However.

One of the people is a creator who I used to follow then her socials changed to a focus I wasn't interested in so I stopped following.  It just wasn't pertinent to me anymore, that's all.

So then yesterday, someone was on my FYP feed in a weird shower cap thing and said "So, I'm not friends with X anymore..."  For some reason, probably the shower cap thing, I stayed and listened.

As I listened, her story was feeling familiar. Like, it felt like I knew the person she was talking about. I didn't investigate any further though, because it's not my drama.  It just felt validating that someone had the same experience as me.

Then today, someone stitched her video and it was the woman I used to follow.  She is part of that friend group and is also no longer friends with X.  Her telling of the story was much more detailed and whew, change the names and I really had lived that story.

Then this afternoon, ANOTHER WOMAN stitched the stitch and was all "ME TOO" and she told her part of the ongoing story.  All of their stories complimented each other in facts and behavior AND added layers to the situation of being friends with X.

Again, I'm all THIS WAS MY LIFE years ago and thank all the gods it isn't anymore.  

What had happened was the X person had a few bad episodes in their life and the friend group rallied around her, just to get destroyed by this person.  X was the victim and there was no discussion otherwise.  There was no other possible option or outcome. Then X proceeded to divide and conquer amongst the friend group so everyone was fighting and nothing was X's fault. Ever.  They were the victim.  Everyone was mad and hurt with everyone else.

AND THEN, the saga continued with screenshots and voice messages and rebuttals; including have a blog post mispresented and used as "evidence" of being a terrible friend. (happened to me) A story about how a birthday was ruined because impossible standards are set and friends were treated like ungrateful and disobedient servants. (change birthday to wedding and probably also a birthday and it happened to me)  I'm telling you: I could have written this whole situation.

This felt so familiar.  It was sadly a relief hearing someone else having this experience.  I recognize that in posting this drama their intention is self-protection and full-disclosure to their followers. BUT I wonder if they realize or considered what a cathartic thing to share with others who have had those same experiences. I wish I had the self-awareness and mental health to deal/cope with the situation back then the way they have.

I wrote about my experience way back in 2009-ish. To summarize: this person is one of the reasons I no longer drink.  This person not only manipulated me but others as well, and took zero personal responsibility.  They damaged relationships. They sh*t talked about me to whomever would listen, including my bio-family.  

The family seemingly took her side and that's one of the reasons for distance there.   Example: my mother told me once that I just "Need to get over it, apologize, and be friends with X again."  I told her that I was not ever going to do that, because they needed mental health help and when I offered to support them in working through that, they told me to F*ck off. So I didn't feel the need to reconcile.  Also, that they had lied and manipulated about so many different people & situations that all trust was irretrievably broken.

And guess who came to the next family gathering.  Yeah.  And all the others following.

Example #2 of how similar this situation is: X bought me tickets to an event "for my birthday". 

Pause: I tried to write this paragraph style, but I'm just going to make a list. It got too confusing.

• They didn't tell me what it was until I got to their house, which was forty-five minutes away from my house.  It was supposed to be a great surprise.
• It was a comedian whom I hated, HATED, and trust that there was no mystery about how I disliked them. (she is now universally disliked, to give a hint)
• Next it was announced that we were riding with two "friends" from their work; both of whom I had never met.  
• The show was in Canada.  They were rude at the border, which is a big deal because that can create consequences at future border crossings and I was crossing regularly.   
• We did not stop for dinner. 
• I sat by myself, which was a gift because X was animatedly "interacting" with the comedian as the show went along. 
• The others drank before, during, and after the show so yes, one of them did drive us home drunk. 
• We did not stop for dinner.  I had a happy meal on the way home at midnight after I left them standing on the sidewalk in front their house

Yet, I was ungrateful and my consequence was radio silence for a while.  Hindsight: I should have just gotten back into my vehicle and gone home at the start.  When a person is in that kind of situation though, you feel guilty and obligated and justify that maybe it will be fun...  You all know the drill, we've all been there.

So, anyway, I could go on and on with examples. It was bad enough that it still feels terrible.  Eventually all of their lies and manipulations were discovered and I severed the friendship.  Actually, I had backed away and gone quiet in an attempt to let time take care of the situation.  It had an opposite effect though and they just ESCALATED.

They say that they ended the friendship and were the victim. They "anonymously" one or two mean girl comments here on the blog, which I deleted without comment. They talked about me to my family and others, including being "iced out" and glared at functions we both attended. And of course, the required long email listing all the things that I had ever done wrong, most of which were false.  No accountability, no self-awareness, and frankly just craziness.

Anyway.  That's just context, it's not the focus of this post.  

What was cathartic watching this online drama unfold was not only that someone else had that same experience.  It was watching the dawning realizations and recovery afterward.  The "Why did I put up with that?"  The "Why didn't I SEE this behavior sooner?"  "Why did I make excuses/accommodations/forgiveness for this person for so long?"

The answer is a bit trite: When you know better, you do better.  You have stronger boundaries, you have more self-awareness, you own your mistakes, you tolerate less. 

You stop making excuses.  "I know, but..." is not a phrase that should be used when explaining or justifying any kind of relationship.  "I know but we've been friends a long time" "I know, but they can be kind  or funny or generous or..."  "I know but they aren't like that usually/when alone"  "I know but I could have handled it better"

Because sometimes the fun friend, the crazy friend, the long-term friend is just the unhealthy, unsafe, and not-really-a-friend, friend.  A person should feel BETTER after spending time together, not exhausted.  

If you have been in this kind of situation then you understand.  I hope that it gives solace that someone else has experienced it and been able to work through it successfully.  

Or if you're in it now, reread or print out the last few paragraphs to support you in making different choices.

If you're curious: the drama on the clock app, the creators are Sensible-Amber. Megan Rose, and Abby. 

Broken Kids Club

 One of the things that I noticed when I was doing the Nostalgia Project was that I didn't keep friends long-term.  I've learned over the past few years that neuro-divergent kids or kids who have ACES scores have trouble making or keeping friends.  It was one of those things that I'm all "Oh, yeah.  That makes sense, because I am both of those."

I had friends all through school, however I was one of those kids who didn't belong to a specific group. Not an outcast, smoking across the street kid or hiding in the library kind of kid. Definitely not the popular or sports crowd, a little bit the drama and music crowd.

I had a main friend group, four girls and four boys and we waxed and waned throughout high school.  It depended who had lunch together or who had to work or was on a different academic path. I've since learned it also depended on any individuals headspace at any given time.

Now with the perspective of many years, I see that it was Broken Kid Meets Broken Kid. 

My childhood best friend moved away in eighth grade, we kept in contact then lost touch as young adults, then thanks to social media found each other again.  She lived in poverty and fell through the cracks because the family moved so much.  She just texted me because a photography tip I learned from the ticktock worked for her. She sent a gorgeous photo from hiking.  

One of my high school bff will randomly message me or vice versa.  We don't spend time together but when we do, it's like none time has passed.  The other I ended the friendship (see "What do We do About A Problem Like Maria) and the other we're friends on social media.  All had complicated homes lives as well.  The boy counterparts are online only and usually a casual comment or message every once in a while.

The broken kid friends cycle didn't stop but improved with adulthood.  Also though, the friendships aren't frequently talking or seeing each other, "normal" kind of friendships; while at this stage of life it feels like that isn't particularly unusual.  I've found that friendships wane as we age; jobs, marriage/relationships, kids, then raising parents for many of us, takes much of a persons time. 

My adult bff lives on the opposite coast.  Kevin thinks it's odd that we don't see each other or talk but write letters and emails, snaps and texts.  It's what works for us.  My other adult bff I see often and is the kind of relationship where you can just be quiet together.  But that relationship takes long pauses as well. Another adult friend is the occasional "Hey, still alive?" message with promises to get together then rinse and repeat until...

Social media has made friendship easier for me and I suspect for many others.  Far-away friends sometimes feel more real than ones you've actually met.  Social media posts are sometimes easier than a text or a call.  Friendship just doesn't seem to exist in the same as it once was.

Faxing, Wading, and Eggs

 The universe just woke up and chose violence today; or at very least: chaos.  I have angered the Gods.

Work has been challenging.  Other than my computer, the next most important tool I need is faxing.  Yes, I said faxing.  Because it is the 90's up in here.

Medical Records operate mostly via faxing.  It's archaic and dumb.  It is supposedly more "secure" than email.  Yes, more secure to send it over sketchy phone lines then let sit on a copier until someone remembers to go get it. *sarcasm font*

Anyway, I request medical records on the daily.  They are faxed to me daily.  The process is configured on my computer as an email set-up so they arrive as attachments.   Thank you, pandemic, for allowing this system to be put into place.

About three weeks ago, the system started acting up and not performing as usual.  I did all the diagnostics on my side of things and tried the timing of said faxing.  Like, 5:30 in the morning, noon, 5:30 at night.  I even tried 8:00 pm; with mixed results.  I had the interweb service come troubleshoot my system before calling in a ticket to my work I.T. department.

Then, right before I was going on a week vacation, it stopped entirely.  SUPER. Love that for me.  Not to worry, I.T. was working on it.  LITERALLY the last hour of my day, they Teams Message for me to send everything I have because they have a temporary work-around.  Immediately and only for FORTY-FIVE minutes.  It was dumb luck that I happened to be sitting at my desk at that time of day.

It was like a dumb game show, with a timer and people waiting - and watching my progress online.  But I prevailed though and got out as much as I could then went on vacation.  I've been back just a little over two days and it is still not fixed.  Rinse and repeat: I.T. messages me that I can have the window open again for about fifteen minutes.  At least this time, I was prepared but it was 8:00 in the morning. I am barely verbal at this point of any day.

So, that's the work thing.

It's been raining non-stop here.  Non-stop.  Today is finally nice and I took Lucy to a new park to let her run around.  Because of said rain, the creek flowing through it was gorgeous. GORGEOUS.  I was taking many photos and letting Lucy roam while we both enjoyed the warm sun. 

Now I have a ring on the back of my phone instead of a pop-it because it works better for me, looks nicer, and allows the phone to lay flat.  That's the theory: it works for me.

Was I using said ring? No.  Did I drop my phone in a flowing creek? Yes.  Did I probably ruin a mom's day by exclaiming "Sh*t! Sh*t Sh*T!" in front her child? Also, yes.

I watched in horror as it landed flat on its back in the water. I had a quick mad thought of "Is it going to float? Is it going to float downstream?" which of course: no.  Instead, it gently zig-zaggedly sunk to the creek bed.  I stared at it for what felt like minutes before stepping two steps into the creek to retrieve it.

I think this might be taken mid-air

My phone has a waterproof and rugged case because Hi, Hello, It's Me. I'm the problem, it's Me.  This is not the first time I've dropped my phone into a moving body of water.  To its credit, the phone seems unharmed other than the speaker is a little crackly until it dries completely.  I sat in the sun on the park bench for a few minutes to recover before bringing Lucy and myself back home.

Now it's lunch and I'm forcing myself to remember to eat lunch every day.  I decided that because this day has gone so well, I would make egg salad. Things to know: a) I am allergic to eggs b) Thus I never learned how to make eggs c) I had to google it and d) it went as expected

I accidentally bought extra-large organic eggs a while ago.  I think they might be dinosaur eggs, they are so large.  Keeping that in mind, I used the normal small pot that I use, which promptly overflowed and cracked the eggs.  I googled to make sure that was okay...the cracked part, not the small pot...and continued with the task.

Was the mayo nearly empty AND the mustard...yep.  Did I remember while I was doing this that I still have to make tuna salad for Kevin's lunch and could have just had that for lunch? also yep.  AND I had taken the garbage out before we left. I couldn't leave the egg detriment in the garbage until it was full. Instead I tossed it outside but bobbled the throw - predictably - and it landed in the yard instead of the trees.

Also: the chips were stale because they were left open sometime over the weekend.

There should not be this much chaos for a dumb sandwich

Now the stove is a mess, the countertop is a mess, and the house smells like eggs.  What in the name of sweet, tiny 8 lb. 6 oz. baby jesus was I thinking.  I literally consolingly thought to myself "Well, worse case, I give myself food poisoning."  This is the level of ridiculousness today has wrought.

Now I still have to clean the mess, make tuna salad, and there are 16 faxes waiting to be processed.  Oh, and I have to leave the house again to do direct service at a center in one hour.

The Missing Thing Is...

 So, you're probably aware that there was a very big news story the other day that most people, it feels, were relieved about.  This is not about that, necessarily, so please keep reading.

I usually don't post political stuff on my social media unless it's something really big or gives me feels, like "Stay out of my Uterus" or "I am a Ally".  Even when I post, it's usually fairly benign.

I posted a meme that hits that criteria.  "Live you life so that the entire world doesn't celebrate your guilty verdict"  No further comment, nothing inflammatory.  I knew that there would probably be one comment that would be all "Yeah...but..." and as long as it's respectful and true, I can be open to the other opinions.

Welp.

I dislike this phrase and never use it. I've had to done to me in the past and I get it, it just gets over-used. I was man-splained.

Summary:

• I was wrong.
• He used a phrase that a) wasn't accurate to the situation and 2) is often a key word frequently used in a certain "news" organization
• He "has a legal background so he knows"  (he's not a lawyer, btw)

This began a debate between a high school friend whom I consider incredibly smart and educated. They do have a Masters Degree and a high level job in finance for the government. The first commenter I knew when I was younger that worked for the federal government. They, at most, react to some things that I post. Another is a regular commenter on any of my posts whom knows my beliefs but disagrees and we're fine.  The rest were just out of the woodwork, if you will.  The man-splainer 

Sidebar: I was working on my response when the wife of a friend piped in during the debate with a YEAH WHAT HE SAID and we should put all the politicians in jail because they're all criminals. Sigh. Then followed by someone else posting a Monica Lewinsky meme that I deleted just as soon as it posted. I mean, C'MON. But the frosting on the cake was my very liberal high school English teacher plainly and dryly posting a comment "That's a good plan." in response.

Kevin said I should have known that was going to happen and I agreed. Yet I post for my friends whom agree and maybe don't feel comfortable posting on their own pages.  It's easier to react to a post than it is to post one due to guaranteed conflict. Like this.

So, I wrote my response on a word document, edited, walked away, walked back, edited, thought about it, then posted.  In the meanwhile, the debate continued, respectful but still.  I wrote:

He was tried and convicted by a jury of his peers, in his hometown, after careful consideration. It does not meet the definition of a kangaroo court. It’s incredibly disappointing that anyone would support this indicted and now convicted felon. If you wonder my sources, I am careful to balance whom I read and reference to avoid - as best I can - any bias. While I’ve only worked for at-risk children, women, and families my entire adult life and don’t have a legal background, I’m still well informed. The only disapproval being heard seems to be from folks who only listen to only one "news" source. I did not jump into any other comments or posts to cry foul or celebrate. Now respectfully I ask to stop commenting. I'm not squashing debate, I'm not having dis-information on my feed.

I thought that I would either get no response - which is totally fine - or get an "Okay" kind of response either via comment or messenger. 

NOPE

We were supposed to be gone all weekend.  In fact, we were gone all day Friday and Saturday.  I posted on my social media about what we were doing so it was clear that we weren't home. I didn't pay close attention to anything else on my media. I only posted.

Over ONE DAY LATER, he posts a link for "proof" that he's right and I'm wrong.  He states "here is one of the most fair-minded legal minds out there, a regular on CNN. He even says this prosecution was BS." with a link to an article.

I was immediately angry.  I felt like I was clear that I didn't want the discussion to continue. I said that it's my page and that this was my boundary.  And he stepped over that in order to show me he was right.

After thinking about it and considering just taking the post down, I decided to ignore the comment. Let others decide for themselves but I wasn't going to give this any more oxygen. 

Also, I didn't take it down because sixteen people reacted favorably to it and I didn't want to disrespect that support either. (yes, that's not a big number but still. And not everyone will react yet still like the post)

BUT, I was curious about the link and it was itching my brain. AND I honestly do try to read opposing opinions if they're from a credible source. Once I was home I looked up the link. 

• It was behind a pay-wall.
• It was from a lifestyle magazine that isn't the New Yorker and isn't entertainment.
• The magazine isn't even featured on the Media Bias charts (so not considered a news source)
• The person cited wasn't staff on a network. He's not even a pundit.  He's an "analyst" that is occasionally used. To be fair: he IS a lawyer with experience.
• He is regularly referred to on the other "news" sites and their affiliates

The end result is the link was absolutely cherry-picked just to prove me wrong.  There were no other corroborating articles from anyone else.

Now, if you've read this far, thanks.  This is my point:

It's not about the disagreement about the post. It's not about politics. It's not even about social media.

It's about I stated an opinion in a funny and benign way.  Additionally, I posted a -what I felt was clear - request "to respectfully stop commenting"  

Someone felt comfortable enough to try to correct me in my own space then further ignore the boundary placed. To me, that is the biggest problem.  The "Stand aside, little lady, and I will show you how you're wrong. Let me educate you".  Or take gender out of it completely: the comfortability and ease to just pee in someone's cheerios because they don't agree.  (that's coarse but it's such an illustrative way to describe what's happening)  This is a base reaction that needs to change. 

I'm GEN-X.  When I was a kid: politics religion and wage was considered beyond rude to discuss.  Then as an adult, the mindset was more open but still impassive.  Somewhere along the line it changed to Everything Should Be Discussed, which has its merits.  

It feels like The Thing that is missing is basic respect. Somewhere the art of "I don't agree, let's move on" turned into "I have the right to prove you wrong in every setting". There has to be a basic decorum where people think "Oh, I don't agree but whatever" and keep scrolling. People need to feel less entitled.

It is also said that "We have to be able to disagree and still live together". This is also true.  There is also accountability.  A person can say whatever they choose, AND there are still consequences.  We also have to be accountable to what level we react or interact. I chose to post and open myself up to comments.

Will I unfriend anyone or block/mute them?  No, it's not worth that drama.  If they continued, then yes.  Otherwise their comments will just fade into oblivion.  One day, maybe, basic manners and decorum will return.

 

Vintage Therapy

 My imagination went a few ways when I thought of this title.  I'll just let it be. (if you know the history of "therapy" for women, then you'll get the joke)

Anyway.

I had to people today and as always, when I have to people: I get a treat. Because: grown-up.

Sidenote:  I got a text last week from my job partner reminding me of this meeting.  I promised that "I will try not to be feral."  Well, I mentioned that I was going to light someone's shoes on fire if they didn't start doing something correctly so I was not entirely successful.  To be fair to me, it's a simple form using checkboxes. Also: feral.

After the two hour meeting was done, during which I was mostly helpful and appropriate, I left.  On one hand, I kind of wanted to get back home. Because peopling is exhausting.  On the other hand, I had earned a treat.  And it was sunny out so just going home felt wasteful.

BUT, I also have to people on Wednesday for another meeting.  Hmmm, what to do?  What's that? Two treats for two meetings? That's what I thought too!

A few months ago, I found an antique store in my old hometown that is huge.  It's in an old grocery store building and unlike many antique stores where I live, it's open every day of the week.  That being said, it's a little run-down and disorganized but there is so much there to browse. 

It's been a month since I'd been there so I was a little worried that there wasn't going to be much turnover.  To my surprise, there was.  Also, for a Monday at lunchtime, there were a few people browsing.  Last time I was there, it was only me.

There are a few things I'm looking for:

• orphan vintage plates, cups or shot glasses to try to make glass flowers
• small, orphan Pyrex bowls (I don't need big dishes & it's considered rude to break a set
• small Fiestaware saucers/dessert dishes 
• bar stools - I ordered the ones we have for the kitchen counter in a "That's close enough, we're poor right now" way and now some nearly twenty years later, I'm looking at replacing them.
• Tin kitchenware - specifically a matchholder

Now here's the thing.  I mentioned this to my sister-in-law the other day: It's like when my mother-in-law died, she embedded her tastes into my psyche.  Like you see in the movies where the spirit leaves the body and goes into the loved one.

Because suddenly, I've found myself wanting brighter colors in our house.  This house has always had calming earth tones.  But now I'm choosing different colors to add to the calm.

I'm also drawn to vintage things.  I've always had that interest but it's grown exponentially in the last year.  It started with a kitchen supply organizer that I bought for $20 right after my m-i-l passed.  In fact, I burst into tears telling Kevin about it because I wanted to tell Mom all about it because she'd love it and say "Oh, we had that in our house when..."

The lids lift up and are serrated for tearing

So there's that.  Then I noticed that while I browsed through these antique stores, I would think "Mom had that" or "Mom would love that" and finally I kind of began "talking" to her as I looked.  It was like visiting with her as I walked through the stores.  Shopping was her favorite thing in the whole world. 

I have to say though: the inventory in vintage and antique stores now include items from my childhood and that hurts my feelings. Toys, dishes, lunchboxes that I had as a child are now considered vintage and valuable.

Today, I found a cracker tin that matches one that we've had for years.  It's for Ritz crackers and it goes with the Saltine Crackers one that I have that was "inherited" from Kevin's former wife.  There was a little problem though.  It was on top of a high shelf and I couldn't reach.  I looked around because certainly there had to be a stool or something in one of the stalls.  There wasn't.  There were plenty of folding chairs and even I was all "Nope, bad idea".  Finally, I spotted a book.

A book? you just wondered. Yes, it was a thick hardbound book like from a library. Normally, using a book would be sacrilegious.  Until you know the title: History of the Third Reich. Well, I can use that as a step stool with no qualms WHATSOEVER.   Sure enough, it was just high enough that I could reach what I wanted.  Then I returned it to its stall, but facedown and under something.  

I was through about three-quarters of the store and was thinking that this $12 tin was all I was going to get today, which was okay.  Not exciting, but okay.  Then in my quest to find orphaned plates, a little saucer caught my eye.  It perfectly matches the set that my m-i-l left us.   She loved this set and was always looking for pieces.  This is the first time that I've spotted a piece like hers.  Well, it was $9, for a saucer.  But I could feel my m-i-l be excited so I decided to get it too.  $20 would be nothing if I were at the book store or the plant nursery.

the label said it was a lemon saucer. I'm guessing 
that's what that little hook is for

Then. Then I spotted a shelf of hobnail glassware.  Also my m-i-l's favorite.  There wasn't any pieces that I wanted, they were all blue and green and kind of plain.  But there was this tiny little pitcher. Gradient orange and yellow.  My favorite.  I picked it up and my excitement plummeted.  $22.  For a tiny and I mean tiny pitcher.  Here, look:

regular sized votive candle for scale

I left it there and continued wandering around the remainder of the store.  $22 was a lot for what it would be: a sentimental purchase, even though I loved it.  Then I found a tea tin from England that I really liked but it didn't match the others I have.  I put it back and then found myself walking back to get the tiny pitcher. 

And it makes me so happy, seeing it up in the window with the other hobnail vases that she gave me.  (I say hobnail like everyone knows what that is.  I didn't know that's what it was called until she was INSISTING that every piece be found and live in a good home)

Finally, one of the last tasks from this whole past year was going through the cedar chest where some vintage family heirlooms, keepsakes, and items were stored.  I have kept these curtains for about thirty years, knowing that I would use them someday in some way.  Well, I finally did.  Gone is the pashmina that could be seen from space and replaced with these 1940's linen curtains that I LOVE.

Slowly, I'll have a vintage kitchen; if you ignore the modern appliances.  It's time to paint the cupboards and that will complete the transformation.  Right now I'm happy with the curtains and the pyrex and hobnail.  #thanksMom

Happy Mother's Day

 

That's What A Mom Does

Mother's Day is "Not My Day" or "Happy You're Not A Mom Day" for me.  A few years ago I wrote this post and now I post this essay annually, always with little additions and tweaks.  This year has a specific change, as we're nearing one year since Kevin's mom passed.  

This is our first Mother's day without her and while I've always disliked this day, her presence always helped.  However, this year there is no buying an expensive beautiful Mother's Day card.  No buying giant hanging baskets.  I had to deep breathe past the greeting card aisle in the grocery store this morning.

Then today there was a gentle knock on the door. The only one who comes to our house is my father-in-law.  Sure enough, there he stood with flowers in his hand.  "Happy Day" he said "Because I know I can't say Happy Mother's Day"  I made a joke so I didn't cry in front of him then lost it when he left.  He makes us crazy but he really is the sweetest man.

On the other side, I spent nearly $100 to not have to go to my mother's this weekend.  Kevin insisted that I at least send her flowers, which is a good solution for this particular situation. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Having been raised by wolves, as I've regularly described my childhood, other women stepped up to make sure that I was parented when my parents couldn't or didn't know any better.

As a baby/toddler, it was my mom's best friend.  As I was a trauma birth, she was the one who cared for me the first months of my life.  In fact, she made sure I was taken care of the first part of my young life. She sees me as the daughter she never had.

Even as an adult, she had that presence.  I remember arriving at a family function years ago and it had been a crap day. I was spewing all the reasons why I was late and it was an awful day and in mid-sentence she stopped what she was doing, dried her hands then turned to hug me tight.  Like a mom would.  

My paternal grandma helped while she was alive.  She died when I was six, but I still remember her babysitting and making sure that I was spoiled and had what I needed: ceramic figurines from the tea box, scrapbooks, napoleon (neopolitan)  ice cream, and affection.  

During grade school, my mom became a volunteer firefighter with a group of stay-at-home moms.  Those women also stepped up and made sure I was okay over the years.  Equipping me with wedding shower gifts and handwritten advice when I married the wrong man at nineteen, with kind of an unspoken understanding about the decision I was making. I didn't understand it then but I've since realized their support.

Where we lived when I was a child, the houses around us were all summer homes.  The mom in one family seemed quite strange to me; she did yoga and meditated and was always calm.  She was a gentle mom and I liked her very much, even though she was a mom the likes of which I had never seen. She has since passed and the beautiful obituary that my friend wrote for her described her as Soft.  As in everything about her was soft and gentle. It clarified why she was an important presence when I was young: she was soft when everyone around me was hard.

My grade/middle school best friend's mom was also just a quiet presence.  They were poor, I mean, really poor and she was overwhelmed with all these kids and the things that came with that.  I didn't realize it then but I do understand now. But I just became another one of her kids, like it was no problem at all.

Mostly I remember my high school best friend's moms.  At seventeen, I was working, going to school, paying bills, and driving.  I was an adult mostly but I still felt their watchful eyes on me. They made sure I got home, school, or to work on time, had what I needed, fed me, answered my questions.  Parented me when I needed it.

As of next week, I will be married thirty-one years and with Kevin nearly thirty-four.   My mother-in-law didn't understand me at first, having been raised by the aforementioned wolves.  (Sidenote: before she died, she said wolves are good mothers so I had to think of another animal)  In turn, I didn't recognize how she was in life was, indeed, normal. A normal mom.

Now, perhaps in some respects too late, I've realized the presence she has had in my life. The mediator, the dinners she made, the flowers she gave when she "bought too many" or as a thank you.  The mom she was to Kevin.  Yes, she made me want to drink on many, many occasions but from what I've read  That's What Mother's Do.  I just didn't recognize it at the time.

So, today I'm giving a shout out to those moms who take care of kids who aren't theirs.  Not just the foster moms or the step moms.  The moms who just take in the friends of your kids without a thought.  You might not think they notice but they do.  You  may think it's nothing or just a little thing that doesn't matter. But it's not.

I appreciate every meal, every hug, every correction, every thing they did to step up and fill the gaps.  Even now.  

And I sure miss my mother-in-law

She's smiling at Kevin, holding our card.
The last Mother's Day that she had

37 Emails and 3 Phone Calls

 Historically, I am busy in the Fall; late August to late October usually.  Then there's a lull and it picks up momentarily at the new year only to lull again.  I define busy as there is a running to-do list, deadlines, and lots of need from other parties.

It usually happens again in May, when advocates and managers realize that the school year is ending and there are requirements still to be met.  

Then 2024 happened.  Work has returned almost to the pre-pandemic levels so I'm consistently busy.  It's not unwelcome, but it's an adjustment.

Then this week happened.  It started out kind of a weird day with requests requiring second steps and unclear communication.  I ended the day with a to-do list and a plan but still feeling like I was running behind.

This morning I started work at 5:30 in the morning, as per the usual.  I worked about two hours but my brain was struggling to engage.  I decided to go lay down with Lucy and rest for a bit.  I set my alarm for thirty minutes, knowing that it would probably take forty-five minutes to re-engage.

At the 45 minute point, I checked my work on my phone.  FIVE EMAILS requiring attention.  I got up, sighing "So this is how it's gonna be today..." and went to work for another two, almost three hours.

It was a constant onslaught.  My job partner was doing monitoring.  When I do it, I call it audits.  So if a team member gets an audit email from me, they know it's serious.  Monitoring is also serious but they know if it then gets to me, whew.  All avenues have been exhausted and they have work to do.

Lucy and I went for walkies about mid-day, even though I had work to do.  I left, knowing that I was coming back to light chaos.  And I did.

I finished my day at 5:00 by walking away from the computer but still getting texts and requiring one trip back to the computer.  I told Kevin that he could watch whatever he wanted tonight because my brain is exhausted.  I want to play on my phone then go to bed.

But before that, one of the text conversations prompted an idea and now I have this waiting for me in the morning:

Color coded because I knew that 5:30 a.m. me would not understand 7:00 p.m. me.

Welcome back to the New Normal.  

Happy Earth Day

 

The one who plants trees, knowing that they will never sit in their shade, 

has at least started to understand 

the meaning of Life.

Missed My Turn, Ended Up in Footloose

 I'm on spring break this week.  It feels odd to just have...time.  Time on my hands and really no big projects to do.  Well, that's not true.  It's just that I had two projects planned and I finished them the weekend prior to spring break.  Hooray me?

Anyway, it's Tuesday and I'm a little listless.  Not in the I don't feel well kind of way but in the whiny, school-ager "I don't have anything to dooooo" kind of way.

This morning I went to the chiropractor because I woke up in a zig-zag pattern that was uncomfortable. I didn't take Lucy because she overdid it on Sunday and had a gummy then slept on the people bed instead. Once I was done being straightened, I thought I would go to the antique store.  But I just went last week so it was unlikely there were new treasures.  Then I thought I'll just go to the book store and the second hand store across the street. 

Then I missed my turn.  Like really, really missed my turn. I was on the one of the main roads that heads out into "the county" where yes, I could turn around but there wasn't easy side streets to backtrack.  I did finally get to the main road again but now I'm well past the book store and no where near where I could easily head home. I'm now on the opposite side of the county, if you will.

There's an estate/junk/antique store in a little town further out that I follow on social media.  I decided that the universe had spoken and I would just travel the additional...twenty? minutes out there.

I'm sure most of you have watched Footloose...either version, it doesn't matter.  This town is exactly like that town.  More churches than any town should have. Blue laws still on the books...as in you can have a  bar, but not dancing. Loud music is not a thing in cars or houses.  No cursing.  For example, you know those tourist signs that say "Boardwalk - turn left, historical district - turn right, museum - go forward" kind of thing.  There was one of those but for FOUR DIFFERENT churches.

This is not a place that I'm comfortable.  It's not a sundown town but it kind of has that vibe.  Maybe more of a Stepford town.  Like a stranger pulls in or walks into a restaurant and everyone turns.  I turned down my music when it changed to AC/DC, for example.  

I found the store and went inside.  I was the only customer and as predicted, I was just eyeballed with no greeting.  I should have gone to the antique store instead.  I walked around and saw some interesting things but nothing I couldn't live without.  

There was music playing and it was SO LOUD, which I found beyond ironic.  And it wasn't soothing, smooth jazz or soft rock. It was like loud alternative music.  But CHRISTIAN music.  I sighed and tried to tune it out.

But a lyric popped through my filter and I actually laughed out loud. It was a band that was like a bad Fall Out Boy band.  It went something like "Jesus was saved...because of a...a...a... Gravedigger"

MY HAND TO GAWD.  I was momentarily stunned...I mean, what. It's entirely possible that I'm not accurate with the lyric but it's awfully close.  Now I'm all "OH HELL NO" unironically and I start for the door.  Not before flipping over a book that was left on a table of how to be a good WOMAN.  And the description was A woman is not a woman without gawd.  SIGH.

Suffice it to say, I will not be returning to that store. And I unfollowed them on the social media.  They used to be in another town and had more of a junk store vibe that what is now.  Now it's a weird mix of junk, antiques, and way too many signs referring to wine.

I left disappointed and started to drive back out of town when I spotted a second hand store and a book store literally right next door to where I was.  I had parked the opposite way and in my haste to get out, I hadn't noticed.  I debated then circled back around and parked where I was parked before.

The second hand store had some stuff but again, nothing I couldn't live without.  They greeted me as I left, which is more than the other store.  Also, there was another customer in the store who laughed when I said "Accidental pun" in response to her stating a vacuum wasn't bagless and "that sucks".  Also, that's some strong language for that town, I must say.  

Next was the book store, which was a branch of a fantastic bookstore in the city.  I wondered if it was going to be different because the bookstore in the city is Very Open Minded, in a rainbow kind of way.  And it was; a clearly a scaled down version but very basic bookstore.  I bought a book from the used rack (The Little Paris Bookshop), some puppy chip-clips that I don't need but wanted. (Swistle, I still have three Pusheen chip clips!!!)   Then impulse bought two stickers. At the bottom of a bowl of stickers on the counter were low-key rainbow stickers, more pastel than primary colors.  A little subtle  (yet deniable) sign of support in a town that probably isn't welcoming.

It wasn't a waste of time as it was nice to be a tourist and not have anyone or anything waiting for me.  I just go without the Footloose/Children of the Corn vibe.

Bloggity Rewind

 Oh, hey, hi.  Not dead.  Been sick, had a meds change that laid me out for days, work stuff, busy brain.  You know the drill.

So of course I'm cleaning out my desk drawer. The project drawer.  The "doom" pile in a drawer.  Do I have work to do? of course.  Chores?  yes.  Does Lucy need outside right this very second, also yes.

But I'm at my desk on a sunny afternoon going through a box of paperwork that needs scanned into the ancestry site.  You know, like you do.

Now the alphabet brain does enjoy its doom piles.  (doom pile definition here)  I tend to only "allow" it in two places: the project drawer of my desk and the front of the filing cabinet drawer.  The problem with visible piles and my brain is that my brain will sit there and mutter-to-scream at me endlessly until I deal with it.  "Hey, psst, did you know there's clutter?  Like, right there.  Clutter as in stuff that needs dealt with.  It's right there. C.L.U.T.T.E.R.  It needs attention...It's waiting for YOOOOUUUUU." kind of thing.  Thus the project drawer.

Now with the whole past year to two years, the family tree project went on hold.  I put my notes and books and stuff into a basket and into the drawer for "later".  Well, later turned out to be yesterday when I thought of something family-related and looked up a fact about my paternal grandma. Now a full 24-hours later, I answered the question and created so many more.  (like I can't find her grandmother. I only have a name and that's it) Sigh.

Anyway, Doom pile.  Other things made it into a doom pile.  A magazine subscription card with three books written on it to remind myself to buy.  Clearly this was before screenshots or even phone cameras.  Out of the three books, I have two now so it must have worked somehow.  (Emily Giffin - The One and the Only, Maeve Binchy - Chestnut Street and the one I don't have: The Secret Life of Victoria Grant by Beatriz Williams)

A to-do list from when I was learning/creating my job.  That makes it about seven years old.  

Then there was this. This was a jolt back into time.  Back when blogging was just in its hey day or a little before.  Although, Swistle isn't on there so it has to be early blogging days.  Or I just didn't have it on the list because it was always on my desktop.  Who knows why I have this list too.  My guess is this was caused by switching a computer or job and before internet browsers were proficient at saving everything you ever looked at online.

Out of all these blogs, only a handful still exist.  I am still far-away friends with one of them but the others are lost to time.  Some people converted to social media apps and some just disappeared to time.

Excuse the alphabet brain handwriting. 
This was before I learned if I used a pencil, I wrote more legibly
AND then I discovered if I use all caps then it's even better, regardless pencil or pen.

I miss the days of having a regular list of blogs and sites to read.  I miss having the time to read them also.  Now there's so much other input: social media, television, music apps.  I miss the blogs though, having friends that lived in the computer and sharing our lives.

I feel old now.  

You Don't Understand My Shoes

 Well, remember when I mentioned that things had settled down and there was a lack of constant worry?  Yeah, that lasted about ten minutes.

The absence from the bloggity is not because something terrible has happened but because my brain just needed a rest. 

Sigh.

When last we left the Raising Parents Saga, my father-in-law had requested help with his paperwork, appointments, etc.  I already monitor his med records and appointments but  I had emailed the doctors to change the contact names and numbers to me and notify them of the change he requested. He needs someone to attend with him because he'll come home and either say "Everything is fine" or "I have herpes and they're going to shave my head" when it's actually they're just adjusting his meds.

Summarized: he asked for help, we gave him help, he pouted and declared that it was too much help and "You took everything away".  Yeah, that gasp/sigh? We've been doing that for about two weeks.  We agreed, did the thing and then...

I had to contact the doctors again and explain "Even though we know he's NOT CAPABLE, we are doing as he asked.  Also: we need you to TELL US when we need to step in." They agreed but there's only so much they can do also.  

Anyway, then there was pouting.  I had told you about the being owly at the cardiologist and it only increased from there.  Until finally my brother-in-law who is not known for tact and is known for volume, had it out with him.  That is where it was determined that we were helping too much and he wanted his stuff back.  Sigh.

So, fine, whatever.  Let him do it, we'll wait for him to forget, mess it up, or something bad to happen then we'll do this all over again.  

For a minute, Kevin stayed out of it.  The f-i-l doesn't live with us so he didn't feel like it was his place/worth adding his two-cents worth.  But then the f-i-law was owly with Kevin and whew, that didn't end well.

The two things I will never forget is my f-i-l telling Kevin that "You don't understand my shoes", to which Kevin was completely befuddled.  Now, I speak fluent f-i-l so I got the mixed metaphor of "You haven't walked in my shoes" and "You don't understand"  I would have paid MONEY to see Kevin's face.

Secondly, while trying to prove his point that us pesky kids were doing too much and putting too much pressure on him to MAKE APPOINTMENTS AT A REASONABLE TIME and STOP GOING TO THE DOCTOR BECAUSE YOU'RE BORED & THE GIRLS ARE PRETTY, he was mad that we made him go get x-rays on his hand that was injured when he fell: 

"Now LOOK" he exclaims while waving his CASTED hand "This is what happens when you make me go the doctor."

I admit, I laughed.  Right out loud. Kevin told me this over the phone and all I could do is reply "You absolute heartless bastard, making him go get his BROKEN FINGER fixed"

The dust had barely settled from THAT when the "aunt" (my m-i-l's BFF - the one who kisses on the mouth)  she called last weekend when Kevin and I were at breakfast.  She invited herself to come visit the family because she misses us so much.  *insert eyeroll here* We were non-committal, at best.  

THEN, Then, and THEN, she tells me that my f-i-l told her that "the kids won't let me do anything or go anywhere."  WUT.  I mean WUT.

Ooof, Kevin was mad.  SO MAD.  He rarely gets mad. Annoyed, of course but not mad.  We debated and pondered.  Let it go? Confront him? Tell the siblings?  Kevin went with confronting him and he whole-heartedly denied it, which we know is a lie, But these parents man, they think they're clever.  This is why we call it "Raising Parents".  While we can't ground him, we can say that we're disappointed and frustrated and stop talking sh*t to people about your kids when all your kids are trying to do is keep you alive dogdammit.

But we don't understand his shoes.

A Long Winters Nap

 Remember when I said Hooray, I get to do fun things for work? Then I also said "Remind me when I have to actually leave the house?"

And now I'm saying that "I left the house and brought home a cold."  

ACK

I have a cold, it seems.  The "it seems" is because the pulmonologist changed my asthma meds to a daily steroid and not only does the initial symptoms include "cold like symptoms" IT ALSO: takes up to two weeks for the full-effect of breathing fully.  Which then means I have to use my what-is-now referred to as a "Rescue Inhaler" and I'm all BZZZZ BZZZ bzzzz then crash, snore with the double dose of albuterol and steroid.  And it is the sleep of the dead.

And to show how tired, etc. I am: the bloggity kept telling me I spelled steroid wrong and I literally sat for a half-hour and kept thinking it was spelled correctly. Then I googled it and it said "Steroid, not steriod. You need to go to bed."

However, I believe it's a cold because I slept for 36 hours out of a 48-hour span Sunday-Tuesday morning.  While I dream of having that kind of sleep- pun intended -it's unusual. Also, it's Tuesday Wednesday afternoon and I want to nap.  Like lay down on my office floor and sleep right now kind of nap.  I also have had a really barely even worth calling it a temp temperature off and on since the weekend.

What had happened was, last week I went to one school and did my thing.  The person I met with said - late into the conversation - that they've had a cold but were on the end of it.  SIGH.  

AND THEN I went to another school where two kids said they weren't feeling well and a teacher said "Yeah, I've had a headache all afternoon."  STAHP IT.

Fast forward two days and I have a cold.  I didn't feel well on Friday but powered through because I had stuff that couldn't be delayed.  Then the weekend came and game over.

So that will teach me to leave my house.  I haven't really had to leave my house for work in a consistent way until last week and now HERE WE ARE.

It is a sign from the Universe.

Also: it's not COVID.  I tested.

Shades of Blue

 The other day I had a training at work. It's for the new Having to Leave the House duties that I agreed to and will likely regret. It was only supposed to take an hour, until my job partner had something come up then the training was delayed for an hour.

It was that kind of morning anyway. I mean, I had to leave the house so everything was already askew. Then there was road maintenance almost the moment I left our road and traffic on the freeway because it was commute time.  

Because of the snow and the father-in-law, I had errands stacked to do that day.  Also, the training was too long to have Lucy just wait in the truck so I was free for the morning.  So I wasn't disappointed when I had to find something to do for an hour.  

Instead of waiting at my office, I went and completed some errands; starting with getting a coffee at Starbies.  I usually go to my friends coffee stand but couldn't so I went the bougie route. It's been a minute since I've done that so it felt a little decadent. 

I had five things on my list and I knocked off three before having to return to my office.  I had to do that math of "It only takes this many minutes so I can kind of do it and still be on time" versus "Just wait and be a little early".  I hate that constant debate with my alphabet brain.  When I returned for my training, I had time to chat with one of my favorite advocates for a few minutes. Then the training, which entails more than it was when I did this observation/inspection tens of years ago in one of my old lives.  That's okay though, at least I had a basis of knowledge to begin with.

After that was complete, the next task was to drop off donations at the second hand store. I am still on a tear with culling through the house and  I'm going to need to stop soon or we'll have nothing left.  I never take the coupon they offer and I very rarely go inside.  There is just never time, it feels.  Today though on a whim, I decided to go browse.

$42.98 later, I am a happy camper. This is where I mention that this second-hand store is run by a church whose proceeds go to the Christian school. While this is not at all my belief system now, it was affiliated with the church I used to attend decades ago.  Also, I'm friends with kids who went to that school and they've grown up to be fantastic adults. So while it's not my belief system at all, ever, it's a good school that I don't mind supporting versus a corporate charity.

Anyway, tangent. My point is that wealthy church ladies donate to this store.  As a result, the quality of stuff is better than if you went to the nearby goodwill, which is now in a low-rent part of town that I try to avoid.  There is plenty of good quality, brand names or nearly new, items in the church store that are still second-hand priced.

Within about thirty seconds into the browse: I have three books.  I was drawn to the books even though usually I skip them because the to-be-read pile is increasing, not decreasing.  I bought three Nicholas Sparks novels, one of which BookTok has been raving about.  And yes, reading an author who always makes the reader cry IS a questionable decision but here we are.

I was wanting a different cover for Lucy's crate because the color scheme in my office changed from haphazard "that will do for now" to greys/blues/black.  I found a really nice tablecloth that perfectly matched the new curtain.  I could have stopped browsing right then and been happy.  But I kept looking, just in case.  There was a bright and I mean BRIGHT pashmina that caught my eye but I couldn't think of a use for it so I left it.

While browsing, I realized I had to use the bathroom.  They keep the door locked so I had to ask for the key; not my favorite but I understand.  It was attached to a cowbell, in case you want to guess one of the main industries of the county where I live.

You can't take items into the bathroom so I set my stuff aside and took care of things.  Upon returning to pick up my stuff, what catches my eye but a TARDIS.  A TARDIS.  Randomly set on a back shelf as if they didn't know how to categorize it.  It was small, like three inches tall so it was also remarkable that the alphabet brain didn't scan right over it.

Keeping track: three books, one tablecloth and now a TARDIS.

I went down the kitchen aisle even though I don't really need anything, especially since closing the parents house.  But one time I did find a brand-name small pot that I love so I always peek.  I browsed past the full china sets and requisite expensive knick-knacks.  

There was something in my head compelling me to go get that bright pashmina.  I headed to the opposite corner of the store, thus browsing most of it again, and put it in my cart.  I didn't know what I wanted to do with it but I figured I'd figure something out or worse case: bring it back. 

Oh and in the bringing back category, I bought a chair cover that isn't going to work. I can't be too disappointed because: books, TARDIS, tablecloth, pashmina.

The need to retrieve the pashmina made me go down the electronics aisle, which leads directly to the register.  I usually avoid it, I never want anything there, and second-hand electronical stuff can be sketchy.  What would catch my eye this time?  A nearly new brand-name, expensive  MONITOR.  I've been considering a third monitor for my work computer for about two years.  During my busiest times, it would really be helpful.  Sure, I can make a request through work but that takes time and a form and just nah.  Also, I just try to not draw attention to working from home whenever I can.  

$14.99 and it was in my cart.  It's at least $100 new because I nearly bought one a few weeks ago.  

Now I decide it's time to be done. Clearly the gods have shined down on me for this trip and I will not tempt fate further.  $42.98 is not a lot of money but I did kind of cough at myself when she rang it up and told me the total.  But I had a CART, that's how much I browsed and bought.  

I was so happy with my excursion, I decided that I didn't need to stop at the grocery store.  I headed straight home to play with my new toys.  I piled everything onto my desk and began to distribute them.  The tablecloth - perfect, the TARDIS matches the tablecloth.  Two books up on the shelf and one put out to read next.  The pashmina laid aside for now.  I disassembled my desk a little bit to plug in the monitor (sold as-is but assured to work)  

Featuring the new tablecloth as well

Ah, a stumbling block.  We're back to the vibe that began the day.  I didn't have an available port on my computer for the cord.  I did the debate that often happens  when you live away from town: order a new cord from the shmamazon and wait or go into town again?  Lucy hadn't been walkies yet and I was too excited to be patient so back into town we went.  (yes, yes, the monitor is no longer $14.99. Now it's probably $21.00 with the cord and fuel. I am still winning)

We did that quickly, still skipping the grocery store because: priorities. Upon returning, I hooked up everything and it worked and there was joy. Until.  Until I couldn't get the mouse to scroll across the new screen.  With a tinge of panic I go through all the settings, multiple times.  I click the help link.  I click the help link again.  I curse and pout.  

Finally, I did a search and tried a few things before stumbling onto Reddit.  (use that for random information when you can't find it on the google. Trust me)  I had told myself that it was going to be something dumb.  It's always something dumb when it comes to these things.  It was indeed something dumb.

You literally and actually have to tell the computer where the monitors ARE in relationship to each other.  As in: are they in a level row?  No.  Okay so one is higher than the other.  You click on the monitor icon and drag it in proportion to the others then repeat.  A swhoosh of the mouse and TAH DAH. I have three monitors.

And it is a GAME CHANGER.  FIVE STARS. Highly recommend.  If you work from home and have a lot of data or graphic design or even just a writer and you don't think you'll need it, add a screen.  It's amazing.

I just noticed that I need new lampshades. 
I was never a fan in the first place and now they don't match

While I was high on my successful shopping trip and I.T. task, I went out to the kitchen to make myself a celebratory lotus drink.  This is when I remembered the pashmina. A few minutes later, I had accidentally found the perfect spot for it, as I had hoped and assumed would happen.  

Dude. Bruh.

It is so bright. SO.BRIGHT.  Kevin was all "WHAT IS THAT WHY IS IT SO BRIGHT"

Terrible lighting for a photo but you can still see
how bright it is, which is the point. LOL

When I started this post, it was to share my excitement over my super-successful shopping trip.  Then as I was editing, I realized that this is the most excited and happy that I've been in months, if not a year.  That in itself is worth acknowledging.

But seriously: go get a third monitor.  LIFE CHANGING.

And I'm certain you can see that pashmina from space.

Raising Parents - The Bar has been Lowered

 Remember when I mentioned during the Guide to Raising Parents that your phone is going to ring?

Yeah, THAT.

It feels like today it has rung/rang (?) every hour on the hour.  It's not even 5:00 pm and I am ready for bed now.  

What had happened was...

My father-in-law was in the hospital.  I had to call the ambulance for him Friday afternoon.  He phoned me and was short of breath so  I rushed down and he was throwing up and couldn't stop.  He said he was very weak, thought he was going to pass out and that's why he phoned me.  After some questioning, we decided to phone the ambulance. They were here very quickly this time, which is remarkable because the outside temp has been in single digits for days. I assumed it was going to take a little while.

Two of the paramedics had been here before, one that liked the sibling's dog and one that was out for my mother-in-law one of the eleventy times. In fact, he asked about her and gave condolences, which was very sweet.  "She fought to the very end, didn't she?" he stated.

I will say that he had sounded short of breath the day before on the phone but I didn't know what he'd been doing prior to the call so I didn't panic.  But then when I got there, he was short of breath again. So we told 911: shortness of breath, vomiting, weakness; which are all code for heart attack.

He has: 

• Pulmonary edema...fluid around his heart and lungs
• Chronic Heart Failure...exacerbated by the edema
• Dangerously low 02 levels...he was on more oxygen than mom was when she passed. Yikes.
• Dehydration (ironically)
• Kidney Failure

The hospital originally said that it would be about a three - four days stay, depending on how everything shakes out.  Saturday, he announced that the doctor said he could go home tomorrow.  To which the nurse looked shocked and said No.  To add to it, they couldn't give him one dose of the needed meds this morning so it prolongs his stay by at least one half-day.  So doing the math...maybe Monday but probably Tuesday.

Then...the nurse said on Saturday it would be a few days. The doctor phoned later that day and said Well, we're probably sending him home tomorrow.  Kevin and I both were like WHAT.  The nurse seemed very surprised as well.

We explained how he is going to be alone for the majority of the time and we have concerns.  We explained what happened almost exactly a year ago with hospitalization ending in a care facility. We advocated him staying as long as possible. For him, and for us if I'm being honest.

They did a physical and occupational skills test and he passed so they're sending him home and without support. Sigh.  What we finally figured out was that he passed at baseline, meaning he can mostly do things by himself versus being measured by someone my age who undoubtedly could easily manage on their own.  The bar to pass is very low. So, there's an adjustment of expectations for us.  Also, we were comparing to how he used to be versus now and they were just looking at now, objectively.

Kevin and I talked about how I cannot be responsible for him during the day.  I had just mentioned to Kevin that it's making me nervous that he's home alone all day and I can't easily check on him. (like I could when they had their house) And now HERE WE ARE. He is less and less able to take care of himself.  Easy things like the dishes or feeding the dog or even feeding himself.  He's showering less again. And if you ask him, he'll say he's FINE. 

Oh, I forgot a big part: he fell during the early morning of New Year Day and broke his little finger.  He went a week before getting his hand checked (side-eye to the siblings about that) and now he has a cast. On his right hand.

Then during his hospital stay, he mentions that he thinks this has been happening for A WHILE.  I cannot EVEN with that.   And like Kevin pointed out: he's constantly at the doctor so how was this not been addressed earlier?

Now we're caught up to today.  

When they discharged him, they wanted him to be seen by his cardiologist AND his regular physician.  I made the cardiologist appointment and held off on the other one.  It feels unnecessary for two doctors to see him for the same thing.  This is something to add to your list, if you're keeping track: doctors will want appointments and not consider the impact on the patient and or family.  You have to advocate for them to avoid that.

Meanwhile, I went to the cardiologist appointment and he was owly.  He was not in the mood for me or the doctor.  I'm not offended and I'm also not going to play that game.  I know he doesn't feel well and he was probably expecting to be 100% in the one day that he was home from the hospital.

I asked the cardiologist if she felt it was necessary or worthwhile to ALSO see his regular physician.  She said no, because everything that needed addressed will be done at the appointment with her. Also, the issues are purely cardiology issues.  Also, I asked if we could just stick with her ONLY for the next little bit as the issues are cardiology related.  She agreed and thought that "streamlining" was a good idea. (her word, not mine)  Then I turned to my f-i-l and said "So, for right now, we are NOT calling the doctor for any appointments. We are only calling the Cardiologist from now on."  He did not enjoy that decision.  I bet he breaks that "rule" within days.

Part of the reason for that decision is a medication change is what precipitated the whole hospitalization.  Between a med change from the cardiologist and a med change from the physician, it put him in pulmonary edema and no exaggeration: could have killed him.   For now only one doctor is changing prescriptions.  (add that to your notes: prescriptions are a NIGHTMARE for the elderly.  SO.MANY.OF.THEM and from Different.Doctors.Who.Don't.Talk.To.Each.Other.)

She did an overview of everything and timelines, she was really thorough as if solving a puzzle.  She mentioned that it looked like he had lost weight but that he hadn't.  She looked at me as she finished the question.  I quietly mentioned "FRAIL" and she was relieved that we saw it too.  She said he had a marked change physically in three months, which is concerning.  However, his blood work is good, the hospital ran every test available, and on paper he's "healthy".

Then we got punched in the nose a little bit.  She sighed and said "I think what we are seeing is a natural progression of the aging process..."  Meaning: he's winding down.  She then turned and reviewed his meds and decided that "We will look at paring some of these meds down as much as we can in the near future."  I was not ready for that.  

He's transitioning to palliative care. I had to breathe through that a little bit.  He did not understand what was said or happening and I think that's a good thing.  It also made me suck-it-up-buttercup because he wouldn't have understood why I would have gotten emotional.

He has an appointment in one month to re-re-evaluate everything.  If he continues on the decline, then she'll begin to pare back his medicines.  She also wants to schedule a procedure that would take him off blood thinners and make falling not such a panic situation. (still scary, nonetheless)

So that was done.  Next Level now begun.

Then I took Lucy to the beach because we've been cooped up for a week due to single digit temps and I needed AIR.  Wouldn't you know it, as I'm standing on the icy cold beach, the phone rings.  This time it is the hospital, checking in with us regarding his status and ensuring we've made his follow-up appointments.  

I let them know that we would not be seeing his regular physician and why; they agreed.  I explained that we are starting to look at palliative care and she didn't seem surprised.  This made me think of when my mother-in-law was in the hospital and the E.R. doctor then the E.M.T. both asked us "What are you doing?  She needs hospice."  It took them to Say It, otherwise I feel we would still be devoting our time to keeping her alive to this day.

Now mix into this calls between Kevin and I as he updates the siblings, has questions, and/or I've forgotten something. 

Also: I gave up on any sort of work today.  Hopeless.  

Because as I sat down to try to work this afternoon, the phone rang.  It's my f-i-l's physician's nurse, wanting to schedule the appointment that everyone else decided was cancelled.  Clearly, they had not seen the report from the cardiologist.

I explained The Whole Thing again and our reasons for not having the appointment.  The nurse says "Well, I think that Dr. Bal really wants to see him in the office"  I admit to a little trill of annoyance. I asked "Can you tell me why?  I'm not being snarky, I just need to understand why he would need to be seen when he was just seen by an entire hospital AND his cardiologist."  To this, the nurse was a little quiet.  I continued: "If she reads the report and the hospital report and Still has a compelling reason for him to travel to Another Appointment, then phone me back and the family will work on it."  She agreed and sounded a little downtrodden so I amped up my cheeriness so she didn't think I was the internet meme version of myself.

Nearly an hour later, she phoned again.  The doctor had read everything and agreed that there wasn't a reason for him to be seen. Thank you little 8 lb. 6 oz. sweet baby jesus.

Now we have to circle the wagons, again.  We won't make any big decisions until after the next appointment when we know the next steps.  Who knows, maybe he'll rebound and surprise us. Probably not but maybe.  We won't tell the cousins until we know.  Even with all of this, we have time.

Oh, and finally, this one last piece: he joined a gym about two weeks ago.  We were reluctant but "let" him do it.  Unbeknownst to him, I phoned the gym and gave them all the information I could and instructed them to phone me if something ever goes wrong.  He went three times then ended up in the hospital.

When I phoned them to let them know he wouldn't be in for a while, they were immediately and genuinely concerned. He's already charmed them.  They were relieved he was okay and was still planning on returning.  "He doesn't know when to quit!" they said.  In a "Wow, does he know he's 85?" kind of way.

I think today he knows he's 85.  I'm not sure if he knows to quit, either.