Thursday, November 26, 2020

Thankful For The Little Things...

I started the day with making an omelet. 

For the dog.

I ate half, but the other half became the super sneaky way to get her to take her newest run of antibiotics. Excessive?  Yes. But she's crazy smart that one, and you can't even fool her with the same food each time, and it has to be time of day appropriate.  Like I can't hide it in a hot dog at 8 am. 

So I made an omelet. 

The girl has been having accidents every night at midnight. Coupled with excessive thirst, we took her to the vet as both are unheard of for her.  After chasing her through the neighborhood with a clean, fettuccini alfredo take out container, strategically catching pee, analysis shows bacteria galore.  But of course, she didn't respond to the easy to give one tablet a day antibiotic.  Nope.  Now she needs the huge one that smells funny so it's virtually impossible to hide.  Good times. Still, I am thankful we were able to get her to the vet and had the money to get her what she needs.

Thanksgiving was quiet, uneventful, and honestly, awesome.  I miss my parents but we can see them in a less chaotic setting later this month. I made two pies, turkey, potatoes, carrots, you know the basics. The kids were home for the most part, and Youngest made some attempts of being part of the festivities.  He's having a tough week.

We met with the lawyer on Monday as he a poor choice he has to account for from the summer.  For now we are hoping his character before the whole world unraveled will work in his favor and he can get a probation of sorts. It sucks, but accountability is a  huge part of being an adult, and hopefully this can be a catalyst for the change he needs. 

Last Saturday we spent the night on the side of the highway offramp waiting for the tow truck driver.  He was overzealous with his "new" car and the engine blew a head gasket.  Not much you can do to come back from that, so I spent Wednesday arranging to scrap it. Sucks that he's only had it a month, and he's put so much time and work into it, but it happens.  In the past I would have directed him on what to do, but instead I asked him if he wanted to handle it as an "I" thing or a "we" thing.  He asked me to handle the salvage and he'd look for a new car.  He hasn't looked at all yet, and I'm not looking for him.  If I don't push him, it puts him in control, which is something he says he wants, and I know he needs. 

He broke up with his girlfriend yesterday. I liked her, but he says he's just not ready for forever right now.  Which is a huge forward step. He's bummed about it, second guessing himself, but he's talking to me which is hard for him. I'm trying to listen and not judge, which is hard for me.

The core friends are all home for break, most until January.  The neighbor comes over everyday.  She's encouraging him to get clean. He's been out several times with his mentor, which he really needs.  He's filling out an application or having an interview daily, which is key for him moving forward, he's processed all his Amazon returns, and seems to have stopped most of his impulsive shopping.

I know better than to be excited, or even hopeful, but for today, I am thankful for the tiny steps he's taking. 

Bonus son stopped by for turkey.  It's the first time we've seen him in a month. Despite the 17 hour work day yesterday he's doing okay, which is something we are very thankful for.  We swung over to his condo the other night to drop off a Christmas gift we had picked up for him while he was at work, so today we had the "you can't live like that" talk. Pizza boxes, half eaten food, bags of recycling cans in the kitchen, etc. The hubs took the trash out for him, I knew better than to go in. My OCD would have kicked in and we'd have been there all night. We're getting him a new toilet (and likely tiling the floor) for Christmas.  Because nothing says Happy Holidays like a brand new potty. 

Oldest is trudging through his last few weeks of school.  He quit one of his jobs and is looking for something he can work through January when he goes back to the city. We are 80% sure he'll be returning to the dorms in January.  He needs the break from the chaos here and he needs the support of the study groups and his friends. While I'm not loving the price tag of in city living, it's his choice. 

The decorations went on the tree today. The boys unpacked the box of ornaments collected from every trip we've taken and photo ornaments of moments throughout the years.  It was nice seeing the memories get sparked as they were placed on the tree. Which makes me the most thankful of all, that we have had all those moments together. And that for now, we are still able to make more. 

The struggles have been very real lately. 

But our survival rate so far is 100%. 

And that is something to be very thankful for. 


Sunday, November 15, 2020

Forty Six Days & Counting...

The verdict came in on the Hubs mysterious illness.  It only took 3 blood tests to get an accurate positive result for Lyme disease.  It seems his symptoms would indicate that he's had it for quite some time.  He's at least at stage two, if not stage three. He's also seasonally sick, so living here is just.... awesome.

Youngest is/was sick. I was sick for 2 days, got better, and now I'm sick again.  Youngest has been in and out of the house more than a bit, going to a Halloween party on the 31st, and by the 9th he was sick. And then I was sick on day 10, the Hubs on day 11.  Do you see where this is going?

Hubs went for his COVID test yesterday. Oldest had his on Friday and it's already come back negative, so that's encouraging.  If Hubs comes back negative then we'll know it's just a cold, par for the course this time of year.  If it doesn't then we're all sticking together for another ten days which will be so much fun, considering we have next to nothing in the fridge.  

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I put the tree up this weekend. And before all the naysayers pipe up here let me tell you, I spent a lot of money on a Balsam Hill two years ago, on a deep discount, after holiday sale, and with only a 4 week season this year I feel like I'll never be able to enjoy it.  I also know that in order to get it just the way I want it I need to do it in stages so I don't hate the whole experience, and end up in a pile on the floor, ugly crying into tinsel.  Youngest helped me actually get it together, and I picked away at getting the ribbons and crystal sprays on for the base decorations.  Hubs and I finally picked out a semi tacky star for the top this year since everyone (except me) thinks my porcelain angel is creepy.  Something about eyes that stare though your soul, blah, blah, blah. The rest of the ornaments won't go on until after Thanksgiving dinner.  And since it's just us this year, everyone will be around to help. 

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I'm experimenting with alcohol inks on glass. I've got some ornaments and candle votives drying right now.  We'll see.  I do like the randomness of it, the staining of my hands, not so much. I have a knitting project still on hand if a quarantine is in order and a sufficient list of Christmas gifts that can be researched, clicked, and shipped if need be.  I still can't believe that we are down to the last six weeks of 2020.  It feels like a lifetime has passed us by, months we have missed out on, seasons left unappreciated.  Crazy. 

I've also decided to refinance the house.  I can go to a 15 year mortgage, pay the same amount I am now and actually pay the house off in 13 years, at 59. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous about this.  Its' not like I'll lose the house if it doesn't work out, I'll just keep going the way I am, and have for the last 15 years. It's weird, as open as I am about things, it's feels like an invasion of privacy.  I mean, these people could find out how much money I spend on ice cream if they wanted to. It's not stressful, just...weird. 

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The shining spot in our tiny lives has been contact from a lawyers office out of Rhode Island.  To keep a long, sorted story incredibly short, hubs was a cosigner on his mother's house.  In the 5 years before she passed, he paid the mortgage so she wouldn't have to go back to work.  When she passed in 2015, his brother refused to allow him to sell the house and we let it go. The entire family went separate ways.  Now, five years later the house was sold and there was a surplus of funds. Hubs, being a cosigner on the note, was due the full amount of the surplus, which presented a HUGE moral dilemma.  Take the money, or split it with a brother who essentially doesn't acknowledge his existence.  

In the end, I did what I felt was the right thing, presented the will, and they are sending him a check shortly for his half. Thankfully, Hubs got everything sent off Thursday before he got sick.  This could be the first year I don't have to work 100 hours of overtime to make the Holidays happen.  Course, I will still work them, because I have no choice, but it would be nice to just tuck that money away for a change. 

It's a bittersweet thing.  The money is a huge help to us right now and offers the security that she would have wanted us to have, but it is the end of his life before, the last band aid to rip off.  Thankfully it's all being done independently, through the mail. No contact with his brother or that horrid woman he chooses to spend his life with. Most of the money will go in the bank of course, because both of us feel like huge changes are coming for the post office in January.  He'd like new couches, and I'd like my journey ring fixed so I can wear it again. His mom was a big fan of scratch tickets.  Not that she played much, but every Christmas we all got one to scratch on Christmas Eve.  We decided to take a bit of that money and get everyone one last Vovo present, to celebrate her one more time, on Christmas Eve, her 83rd birthday.

I keep thinking it's time to write my annual year in review letter for close family.  But with the year everyone's had, where would we even start?

46 days and counting....

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Hanging On By A Glass Spun Thread....

My son is a pot head.

I have struggled with this for a long time because this is not at all who he was 2 years ago. He was behind the curve in everything, technology, social media, video games.  He'd have rather gone camping with his friends, exercised, or read a book.  That all changed of course when the first substantial girl friend came along, introduced him to Instagram, Snap Chat, Vapes, Dab Pens, and the like. If I had to pin point it all, it was that manipulation, the intrusion of social media, the pressure of peers and wanting to appear older (she was a Senior, he a Junior), and of course how badly she treated him in the end, that began the downward trend. 

He was so healthy, watching every calorie, religiously working out.  And today, he struggles. In the last few years they have legalized pot for recreational use here (over 21) and for medicinal use (18 and over).  He has an underlying mood disorder that we are trying to address with medication, and of course, nothing works as well as the pot for him. But you can't drive a car and smoke.  Or weld a joint after smoking one.  Or, repair the damage you're doing to your frontal lobe before it's fully developed.  It's hard to get him on board with pharmaceutical medicines when they all take so long to work, and he doesn't even remember what it was like to feel good in his own body. 

It's frustrating at times.  He's still on his base meds which are working well.  They stave off the depression, the worthless feelings of wanting to die, and the lack of wanting to shower or be motivated in anything. He's weaning himself off his manic meds though, claiming they inhibit his appetite.  It's been 4 days on half a dose, he's already left the oven on twice, is showing lack of focus, and has had an uptick in recklessness.  And, of course, the pot use is increasing.  We have an appointment with his med doctor on Wednesday.  She wants to try another manic drug, I'm not so sure that will be a good fit for him.  I'm inclined to try him on one that worked well for his father when he was in his twenties, hoping the genetic component will be a useful tool in getting the combo right.  But it's hard when things go well and he pulls the plug on them.  The self sabotage is painful to watch.  The self medicating is scary.  It's so hard to even get him to take a multivitamin again, let alone one that may give him unwanted side effects. 

I tell myself that just because he's 18 on paper, that doesn't make him 18. That he's working through things at his own pace and that this will pass in a few years.  I believe that if I put that out there it will happen, because if I put out there anything different it's like wishing for the worst to happen. It's pathetic really, how much I want to connect with him, and stay connected. 

When he was young he did Karate.  We spent 6 nights a week at the dojo. When he wanted to be a Boy Scout, I became the Treasurer, the Advancements Coordinator, and eventually the Committee Chair. When he wanted to read, I bought him every book, even read some of them after he was done. When he wanted to be obsessive about his eating, we bought him a scale, and learned about macros and food combinations. We have a full gym in the garage for on demand workouts. When he wanted to wrestle, we used up personal time off at work, went to every meet, drove 2 hours 4 nights a week off season so he could train.  Those car rides are still some of my favorite memories, the wrestling funk, not so much.   

His newest endeavor is making bongs.  It's not illegal to make them. Heck you can buy them on Amazon. He enjoys crafting ones for friends, himself, or anyone really, because he thinks they are cool. There's a kid that graduated from his high school a few years ahead of him who makes 6 figures blowing hand crafted ones.  Six figures in his twenties. *sigh*  So of course, his newest endeavor is glass blowing for this specific purpose.  

Part of me wants to condemn this.  All of this.  But where will that get me?  He will just close off, he will spiral deeper into things way worse, and I will never be able to reach him. But in truth, when he's out in the garage crafting his glass, he's spending more time making them than smoking from them. So, not unlike how he started Karate when I was afraid of what he'd be like with ninja skills, or wrestling with all the cheap shots to the head and ligament injuries, I enrolled both of us in a class.

It's horribly addictive and way harder than I thought it would be.  Glass is heavy my friends.  COVID, of course, prevents any type of blowing to be done, but hot molding of glass, and learning the basics is still fair game. And the best part?  The studio happens to be right behind Oldest's school.  We can literally visit him once he's back on campus, take a class, and Oldest can pick up our finished pieces for us.  We made pumpkins...



Next month, it's Christmas ornaments for the tree. Perhaps after that we'll be able to learn some basics in blowing.  Sometimes the hardest part being a parent of an adult child is understanding that you don't have to agree with them, or even like the end goal, but if you can find that one common thread within it you can stay a part of what's going on, and hopefully guide them forward in small subtle ways.

Even if that's the thinnest most fragile of glass spun threads.  

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

The Best Election Results...

 Twenty years ago I lived in Broward County, Florida.  I remember that election well because the whole country waited on the results for over a month while our county, Miami Dade, etc. were recounted because some old folks couldn't punch their cards hard enough, resulting in the infamous hanging chads heard about far and wide throughout the country.

I didn't vote in that election, but I assure you there was literally nothing else on the hospital TV the week that followed.  Yes, I chose the very unamerican route of being in labor in a hospital room rather than a polling booth. Although, the mess in the polling booth would have been far easier to clean up than the nation wide political one.

I waited 32 hours for Oldest to be born. Today, he realized he's going to be, as he says the most insignificant age ever, twenty, in five days.  As the election coverage rolled on, I mentioned that this wasn't the only election we had to wait for.  That he was, in fact, born literally in the center of the last biggest political election controversy, in a long time. 

He was born during a political election, fraught with controversy, and cast his first vote in a political election fraught with controversy.

Making him the best thing that has come from politics for us in the last two decades.

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Tales From The Mail truck...

 As I sit here tonight, on 800mg of Advil three times a day, I am alternating between the heating pad and my icy cold fingers to loosen up my shoulder. The political mailing season has been brutal this year.  Combined with the three days of rain, the sudden drop of temperature from 60's to 20's, and the constant sprinkler motion of my left arm while I hit 6 bundles of mail at a time for each of my 650+ mailboxes has set the cotton candy calcium buildup and jagged arthritic texture of my shoulder joint on fire.

The only relief we have gotten from all of this crazy is that Amazon has moved into to our area and is now delivering their own packages.  Typically I get 100-200 amazon packages a day.  Now I get maybe 15-20. Of course, those are the heavy, awkward ones that would make no sense to burden their drivers with, when it still costs just $2.39 for Amazon to ship it through us. And yet, even with the loss of packages I am still getting packages that don't fit in the mail truck.  Thursday I got a fireplace mantel. With the state of my shoulder I didn't even try to get it in the truck, I just knew it wasn't going to fit.  They sent it with an afternoon guy in a completely empty truck.

On Friday it poured all day.  We got on the road early though because of the lack of packages and the day was going pretty well until I got a call that I accidently left 10 packages behind. Since I never do this, they sent the afternoon guy out to deliver them to me, and I only had to back track a bit to get the ones I missed, not bad, but hugely annoying. As the storm got worse, and the temps dropped, I got to the end of a neighborhood and saw a note in a mailbox.

The mantel had been delivered to the wrong house.

The house it had been delivered to had left it underneath their overhang so it wouldn't get wet, but it was in the dirt against the house.  *sigh* So I picked it up off the ground from under the 3 foot overhang, maneuvered the 100 pound 2.5x 8 foot long box and put it in the mail truck, straight in.  Nope.  

Under the tray? Nope. 

Sideways, kitty corner, over the tray? Heck no.

So I'm standing there in the rain, shoulder popping and on fire, and finally made the call.

I drove through the neighborhood with the back door open, mantel hanging out. Never in 17 years have I had to do that. I got to the house, luckily the garage was open, and slid the box safely out of the rain.

With another pop of my shoulder, there was still 100 more stops to go, and the day was just getting worse. My fingers are numb from cold and rain, and at this point I've quit 500 times in my head. But I trudge on...

The snow rolled in thankfully after I was off the road.  It made grocery shopping ridiculous, but it was enough to keep both kids in and off the road that night. Oldest came home early rom the city, and Youngest was all set with driving in the ice. Saturday's delivery was better, as the sun melted through most of the locks on trucks and collection boxes.  But there was a rush to find what we could of de-icer and in the shadier areas, there were plenty of ice puddles in front of boxes.  

Which brings me to Sunday, still nursing the shoulder, while the husband watches 60 minutes. More election talk is prevalent, everyone speculating what will happen Tuesday. 

I'm just hoping Tuesday doesn't bring more political flyers, snow, or 100 pound packages.

Is that too much to ask?

Dullards? Dullster? It's All Quite Mundane, Really.

 Facebook's algorithms have suggested that I might like the social groups Dull Women and Dull Men of Face Book.  Apparently you can be a...