For a good cause

My sister and I have made a pact to make sure my mother is checked on regularly.  We emailed and texted each other, picking days to call, days to visit.  Remember that my sister and I are not really on friendly terms, so the least we can do is make sure that our mother knows that we are keeping an eye on her.  (For example, her falling a couple of weeks ago as she was putting eye drops in) It's good to know about her mishaps so we can follow up.  Maybe call an extra time or two, go down to Brenham and see her a little sooner. What becomes tricky is getting someone else on the same page when you aren't really in close contact. Luckily where Mother is concerned, we both want the best for her.  We want her to be as active and independent as she can for as long as she can, and the key to that is keeping up with her so we know when the time comes to go to Plan B.

We can both agree that we love Mother and want the best for her.  So that's enough for now, and its nice to know I have someone to help.  My hope is that we don't come to a place in time where we want something different where mom is concerned.  Because that will make it harder for us to keep her best interests at heart.  

Verti-go-go

I was toodling along IH35 at highway speed when it started.  That feeling came over me, like an aura, then all at once everything jerked to one side.

I felt a little panicky, not gonna lie.  I knew exactly what was happening.  I griped the steering wheel and stiffened up, repeating over and over out loud  "No.  Not right now."

I started talking to myself like I was an observer of myself - "Put your hazard lights on.  Slow your speed.  Get over to the right as soon as you can, very carefully.  Pull into the first driveway to the right.".  I missed a couple of driveways, but once I felt like I was going slow enough, I found one and pulled into a shady spot.

Then I called work and told them I would be late, but I was very close by and would call when I got there. I sat there at least an hour, pretty much trapped in the car.  I opened the sunroof for air and leaned back in the seat.  Trying to breathe deep and not cry.  Hoping no one would come along and tell me to get out of the parking lot.

And gradually the world stopped spinning, and I made my way in to the hospital about 5 minutes away.  A little foggy headed still.  But alive.  And with resolve to do those habituation exercises daily.

Sunlight through the weeds

Last week was not good. 

*Dylan announced to us that he is moving in with his girlfriend - they've been dating for a couple months.  So now he will be legally bound by a lease to stay in the apartment for a year, no matter what happens in the relationship.  Plus, his car insurance went up and he now has rent and utilities to pay.  So he's talking about getting a second job. 

*My work bestie told me she was putting her house on the market and moving out of state.  While we don't actually work together anymore, we lean on each other for venting about work issues. And we help each other celebrate holidays and birthdays.  It's been great having that person in my life for 10 years. 

*My hearing seems to be deteriorating.  The right ear barely shows up for work anymore.  The tinnitus is  near constant, and I have been having vertigo now and again that scares me to death and makes me sluggish for the rest of the day.  Most inconvenient and possible fatal if I happen to be zooming down the interstate.  

*Hubby is stressing his job again..  Seems like for the last 5 years he's been in a life or death struggle with his job.  Maybe he's just telling me all of the negatives, and not thinking to share the positives, but he talks a lot about what we will do for Plan B.

*Spencer has boomeranged back home from a less than desireable situation so I am happy to provide a roof over his head.  We barely see him because he's always at work.   But his choices with money and vaping and beer send me over the edge. 

That's all I will dwell on for right now. Soon I will post about the happy things only.  I am trying my best to focus on the pros but that doesn't mean I want to bury my head in the sand about the cons.

bug bites

 I'm not a country girl, and I don't know much about surviving out there, but I will have to learn.

We spent the weekend at Highlands, working on the pumphouse shower, mowing, and collecting prickly pear fruit.  In the middle of the night Sunday I woke up with crazy itching on my feet!  The next day, when I got out of the car at the grocery store, the itching was driving me nuts.  I looked down and saw a war zone of bug bites.  Either chiggers or fire ants - both rampant out there.

Scratching them feels good for about 10 seconds, then the pain intensifies!  I thought I sprayed myself pretty well with Cutter, and I assumed since my feet were mostly enclosed, they were safe.  But when I switched to flip flops, I didn't spray again.  My bad.   Every now and then I think I'm not cut out for country life.  I like civilization, indoor plumbing, and all the conveniences.  I don't consider things like critters and bugs.  So when stuff like this happens, it seems like a painful learning curve.

Single, with dog

The worry about your kids doesn't stop when they get grown.  It just changes shape a bit.

I figured that once they were all settled in to their adult lives, all would be well.  After all, it's fair to say that Mark and I worked hard to raise four kids. Adolescence strained the limits of our parenting knowledge.  So we figured once we got them to the edge of the nest, they would fly.  And little did I realize that leaving the nest is not always a simple a transition.

  I myself could not WAIT to get the hell out on my own. I knew my mother was proud of me and loved me, but I was ready to have my own space that was clean, and calm, and mine.  I was OK with being alone for the most part - but I wasn't really alone because I did have Mark.  

Chloe has Teddy.  And while he is a source of love and comfort to her, he is after all, a dog.  He can't hold conversations or her hand after a long day.  He can't help pay the bills.  Come pick her up when her car dies.  Make dinner a couple nights a week.  Or share the burden of laundry and apartment cleaning.  And Chloe is now 26, so I worry that she is settling permanently into this single, alone life. I know it's not my life to live, but I worry just the same.

At the end of the day, I just want to know that she is happy and doing what she wants to do.  But I also want her future to be full of more than just Teddy.

Rain games

 Last Sunday it rained all day in south and central Texas.  Then there was a catastrophic situation in Houston, with The Girl and Teddy smack dab in the middle of it.

But Hubby had planned to clear out the garage for "big trash day" on Sunday, so to his credit, he opened up the garage door and got to it.  A lot of crap got put out at the curb, including a giant roll of carpet he had been hanging onto for 12 years. 

The original plan was to putter around the house in the morning, then go to a wine pick up party in Wimberley.  But due to all of the flooding the pick up party was cancelled.  We were both a little stir crazy. I continued to putter, and he stayed glued to the TV news.  To kill some time, forget the TV a little bit, and try to relax, we made our own pick up party with snacks and a card game or two.

It was a temporary reprieve for us from worrying.

The weather radio was still alarming in our ears, Hubby was still checking his phone often, we weren't able to get our messages to The Girl about the storm, and the rain just seemed to go on and on.  By the time Monday got here, I felt like a zombie at work.  Fast forward through the week and our nerves are pretty worn.  It's hard to go calmly about your daily business when there is so much destruction and uncertainty happening.  Our plans included getting her to Austin as soon as we can because who knows how long it will take life to get back to any kind of normal in Houston?  And yet getting her here represents its own set of challenges.  So even though the rain is over, it isn't over.

Come for lunch

Come over for lunch, I always tell him.  

I have plenty of food, and your brothers and I would love to see you.  And it's about the only time I can drag information out of you to see how you are doing.

I see what you are doing there - STOP IT.

Maybe tell me about your day.  How is it going with work?  What have you decided about moving to Leander? How are your finances lately?  Are you getting enough sleep?  I hate that vape thing!

Sigh. 

I guess I'm not done "momming" this one.  I worry about how he is navigating adulthood but I know I just need to LET GO ALREADY.

Spencer is 27 going on 14 - he's pretty silly at the lunch table.  Especially if one of the other boys are sitting there.  He gives them the wisdom of his wise-cracking opinionated self.  I call him Caveman because of his beard, and especially when I think he needs a haircut.

He's being good-natured about me taking his pic over and over, because I think he misses us a tiny bit and likes to come over to eat.  Someday he will find someone to share his free time with and although I will miss seeing him more often, my heart will be glad for him.  I think a lot of what we tried to impart to him over the years will make its way to the surface.  In particular I love that he has a strong work ethic and is really into what he does for a living as a mechanic.

So come over all you want for lunch, Spencer.

Dream feelings

Very early yesterday I awoke from a bad dream, featuring Dylan. 

We were walking along, he and I, and it was getting dark outside.  He seemed to be getting tireder and tireder, hanging on to me for support.  I asked him what was wrong and he said he hadn't been sleeping much.  At the same time, he was getting younger.  We were walking to someplace, and when we got there, he conducted his business at the counter with some woman while I waited.  I stepped up to the counter because I could hear them talking, and Dylan was curling himself up on the counter, as if to sleep.  I told him to get down, thinking, this really isn't appropriate that a grown person should be doing this!  The woman was carrying on with her business, barely noticing.  All the time Dylan was talking to her, but we finished up and left.  Flash forward a bit, and as we were walking away, he became a baby, maybe a year old or so.  It was apparent to me that he was very ill.  He was in a sort of box-like crib on the ground, struggling to breathe.  I was holding some suction tubing near him, trying to drain a serous fluid that was leaking out of him.  He also had an oxygen mask on, but I have no idea where it came from.  As I struggled to keep the fluid from engulfing him I thought to myself that I would continue to save him, even though I didn't know what I was really doing.  Then the dream ended. 

I guess this is a pretty easy dream to interpret.  He's growing up, with adult pressures and responsibilities.  But he's still at home, so I can offer him support and advice. He had some kind of intestinal bug when he was about a year old that alarmed the pediatrician.  No matter what I did, the diarrhea came every day for weeks, and it was a struggle for me as a working mom to balance that with two other kids and a full-time job.  I think I still worry about whether he will take care of himself. 

Dylan is a gentle soul of a person, and I worry that he is making slow progress to strike out on his own.  At the same time, I know that everyone has their own path and it can be very challenging.  Also, I worry about my kids in general as adults.  Did I hold their hands a little too long?  Was my mother right about loosening my grip? My gut feeling says no and I don't want them to feel like they are a burden to me.  But I feel like the time is coming pretty soon that Dylan will need to leave the nest.

The swing

Years ago I told Hubby I wanted an iron bench for a window nook just outside of our dining room in our new house.  He was so proud to show me that he had purchased one - come out and see.  To my disappointment I saw - a swing.  He had gone to the effort and bought it, because I had asked him to. I put a couple of pretty toss pillows on it, surrounded it with a couple of large potted plants, and called it good.

That swing stayed put for several years.  It was pretty in it's little spot by the house.  It was a pain to move, and the kids had to be told several times not to try to "swing" in it it like you do on the ones at the playground.  But we didn't sit in it much anyway.  That is, until I asked him to take it up to Highlands.  He perched it on the top of the hill, looking out towards the lake, just in front of a firepit, and we sit in it every time we visit.  

And I think, maybe this is exactly what I wanted, after all

Falling down

Warning:  gore galore.

I fell on the gravelly sidewalk outside of the Erwin Center after graduation.  I was navigating through crowds in blazing sun.  I guess I lost my footing - I have no idea how it happened.  But I didn't faint, certainly, and I wasn't dizzy or anything.  It just happened.

 

I even walked plenty after it happened - around to the where the school buses were parked to take carpoolers back to north Austin.  On the bus riding home I told Scout it hurt really bad, and I took a picture to show him.  I don't think all of my peeps realized I fell.  Oooh nice, skin hanging by a thread.

The next morning I didn't think it looked too bad - save for the skin still there, which Hubby insisted I trim off.  It hurt, but I carried on with my weekend.  We went to a winery and hung out at Highlands.  I was doctoring it best I could.  

Hang on a minute - it seems to be progressing to worse.

  Oh my goodness, it hurt so bad.  I had to either wear shorts or keep it under soft gauze.  Having anything touch it sent me over the edge. 

I thought it was getting infected, too, so I made an appointment to see my doc about five days in.  She said, no looks like it's trying to heal.

A couple of days after that, above. I think I probably have a big bruise under there, too.

Eight days later, it still hurts, and is super itchy which means that the skin is healing, much like a healing sunburn.  I never had beautiful legs, so I'm not pining for perfect skin.  I just wish it hadn't happened.  In any case, it didn't hamper the happy of the occasion, and I have soldiered on.

But, damn.

Happiness is the feeling you’re feeling when you want to keep feeling it

Time to do a post about things that are making me happy right about now. 

*My nails having recovered and looking good

*I have new books to read

*Mark is getting his cataract surgery (and we have funds to pay for it)
*Flowers in my kitchen window

*Not stressing about my job when I am off
*Homemade banana bread for my peeps

*Mark being happy and fulfilled in his new job
*Got a new pair of shoes today and I love them!
*THIS WEATHER

*The Girl coming to visit in a couple of weeks
*The trash and recycle dudes arriving late today, giving me time to get all the extra stuff out after I cleaned house

*My clean house that is quiet and calm and smells so nice, and a glass of wine as reward
*Getting things crossed off my To Do list - I feel accomplished!

The weight of a quilt

Last week I visited my mother and admired a quilt that she had just finished for a great great nephew of mine.  I helped her with it, even.  It had little boys appliqued in calico, each holding a toy or a treat. I drew the things the boys were holding or playing with.

It was fun to see the art I had drawn, all embroidered on the quilt.  And as usual I complimented her on it.  We had an okay visit - I helped her locate a ring she though she had lost, ran her over to a feed store for seed potatoes, and took her out for lunch. But after lunch she told me that she wanted a baby quilt back that she had given me when Grayson was born.  She said I "guilted" her into giving it to me.  I don't even remember having a conversation about baby quilts when Gray was born.  Having her make a quilt for him is not even something I would have mentioned to her. 

Something about her telling me she wants it back makes me dig my heels in even harder.  Because, why?  What does an 87 year old person want with a baby quilt she gave to me as a gift? And why wait 18 years to tell me she regretted giving it to me and wants it back?  Um, too late.  

The short answer was no, but I wrote her a letter today and mentioned the quilt at the end of the letter.  I told her I hoped she wasn't serious about wanting it back.  That I had it stored away in a safe place awaiting it's future owner - my first grandchild.  And I just left it at that.  I am hoping we won't have to have words over it. I would never ask for a gift back from a person, because I give gifts with no strings attached.  And, things are not love.  Love is love.  But asking for something back that you gave in love, is like asking for the love back.

Resolutions

I didn't make a whole lot of New Year's resolutions this year, but I am resolved to do some things differently. 

I've started on a few of these things already, so I feel like I have moved into the action phase.  I'm also trying reeelly reeelly hard not to vent so much about work to my co-workers.  I'm sure they understand, but it would be hard for them to only hear the negatives come out of my mouth. I am trying to make an effort to narrow down who I chat with and how often I lapse into ranting. What I say to myself for redirection is somewhere along the lines of  "focus on self-improvement and health".  If resolutions were easy we wouldn't have to make them every year, right?