Week Four...

 My cousin and his wife had their second baby over the weekend. A healthy baby girl, with a unique traditional Irish name that will undoubtedly never be found on stationary or bicycle license plates. The trailer was moved, has been listed on marketplace, and was processed through the RMV for an easy sale. I've been fielding many online questions, but so far, no bites.

 Youngest and I made Orang-cello, which is like limoncello, but with oranges. Yummy, but time consuming. Making the limoncello has been put on hold until he gets more sugar. 

The Hubs and I sat through his retirement interview. Ideally, he should try and go three more years, but in the meantime, we've done some rerouting of his investments, cancelled some old insurance policies that are no longer viable, and looked at some other investment options. It's a lot, for sure, but it's better to know now than months from retirement when it's too late. He's now completely obsessed with figuring out how to retire by September. *sigh*

Youngest went to his surgical consult on Wednesday.  He has three options, he could do nothing and just live with his hand the way it is.  He could have the top knuckle of his ring finger fused, which is irreversible, but could relieve some pain, and has a 4-6 month recovery time. OR he could reconstruct his tendon.  This third option comes with a 60% rate of full success, 30% rate of improvement, and only a 10% chance that it could be worse.  This option also comes with removing the balled up existing tendon in the center of his palm which could give him some relief from the pain he currently has from that. It's an 8-12 month recovery time though, which means he'll be seriously limited in what he can do for work.  It was a lot to take in as you can imagine, so for now he has a splint that will help relieve the stiffness he has in the lower joint of his finger and a semipermanent cast to simulate a fusion.  With that he can see how it will be rock climbing, at the gym, writing, etc. before he has it fused if he chooses to.

He has not asked my opinion, so I haven't given it to him. He opted to go to lunch with me after, something we haven't done in years. I validated that it's a sucky situation but let him know I wasn't coming to his pity party.  He has two weeks in the "cast" to decide. 

On an unrelated note, he said he wanted to go as a family to the casinos for his 21st birthday, so I was able to book accommodations and get tickets to the headlining comedian for late March. We did this for Oldest's 21st birthday as well.  It was a really good time. 

As the week wrapped up, it became clear that fusing his finger would never work. Living with it is not ideal, so between fits of misery and wallowing in depression, he's thinking surgery to reconstruct. Lord help me, I know he's working really hard on changing his life, but I can only tell him I don't want to be invited to his pity party so many times a day before I'll lose my mind. 

And now, as I sit ready to publish this, the trailer has sold today, and if nothing else, I am going to sit in amazement that from the time he asked for my help to the time it was done, was a miraculous eleven days. 

What can I say, some weeks I amaze myself.  Others, I find my laundry in the fridge. 

Week Three... (With Pictures)

 

The Kiki curl.  When this happens, we know weather is coming. The tighter and longer the curl lasts curl, the worse it will be. Thankfully, it only lasted about 30 minutes, unlike the 18 hours of wet snow flurries we got Sunday into Monday. Hubs and I (and incidentally Youngest, shocker) hunkered down for the most part and binged watched a reality style competitive game show called The Traitors on the Peacock network, which was unexpectantly good. The dog has had a bit of a belly bug, so I cooked her more hamburger and rice for the day, and worked on laundry. While the snow didn't amount to much, the complete lack of salting/sanding by the town, made for a treacherous half mile drive to go pick up dinner on Sunday night. 

Monday, we celebrated Martin Luther King Day here in the states, and as federal employees we get the day off. I planned lunch with two friends and had therapy in the early afternoon, and Hubs  was supposed to go to lunch with our brother-in-law. Two weeks ago, when I did the bonsai class with my niece, I grabbed some custom IPAs from the distillery for him. Our BIL affectionately calls us the "Off Cape Ber Supplier, and his WIFE" for a reason. But since the weather took a crappy turn, the beer still sits in the fridge waiting for a weekend delivery. 

Tuesday, being the day after the holiday, was quite busy at work.  Despite working a much longer day, I still came home and cleaned up the house, threw some laundry in, ran the dishwasher, and walked the dog. One of the projects Youngest wanted help with was storing and selling an 18-foot trailer, so I spent some time working on FB inquiries and searching down a tow. It's going well in that I have found a person to tow it and store it for free while it gets titled. I may not say I love you as much as I should, or give hugs and snuggles like most moms do, but there are always clean clothes and dishes, help with life's conundrums, and general order at home when the outside world gets too chaotic. It's my love language. Which is good, since Bonus Son also dropped off laundry this week, all four loads of it. 

Wednesday was a beautiful 55 degrees. I was happy.  The dog was happy. It was as good day.

Thursday my blog book arrived.  It may be dorky, but I like having the blog in book form.  No website to visit, no spam comments to weed through, you just walk across the living room and volia! there it is. Most of the time they collect dust, but the other night I found Youngest going through his childhood scrapbooks of our adventures.  So maybe, maybe, all my effort was not lost. 

The Hubs had several pre-op appointments for his upcoming surgery. Turns out, he's a candidate for a different surgery, one with a recovery time of 2-5 days as opposed to the original one he was having with a recovery time of 3-5 weeks. Needless to say, he's being referred over to the doctor who specializes in this new procedure, and hopefully things will go smoothly from there.   

Youngest has his MRI tonight, Friday, and his follow up on Thursday of next week.  From there we will decide the best course of action to reattach the severed tendon in his hand.  He also got his inspection sticker done for his car, his taillight fixed, did his own laundry without prompting, brought it all downstairs, and offered to wash the pans from dinner.  

After his offer to wash the pans, I thought I might have died right there and then, but no. Turns out I was still alive the next day when we had a real back and forth conversation about difficult things and an hour later, I got a text of I Love You. 

I have no idea what's happening with him, but I'm riding this train for as long as it lasts. 

Week Two...

 I'm trying a new format here, we'll see if it lasts. My hope is that by chronicling the weeks I can get back into the routine of writing, as well as remember to appreciate the more mundane weeks of the year. 

The weekend was uneventful, the birthday party for my cousin's two-year-old at the brewery was nice.  Kids everywhere, a private bar tender, and catered food from a local favorite. Being Oldest's last weekend at home, we have spent a bit of quality time getting him ready to leave, dotted with an occasional meal out, and binge-watching Netflix's Wednesday.  I'm not an Adams Family fan, but I must say it was quite good. Youngest spent some time just sitting with us in the living room, something he has not done in, well, years. Most notably, the vet prescribed a trial dose of arthritic medicine for Miss Alaska. Being a Husky Shepard Mix she has a predisposition to serious hip and back leg issues. We noticed a difference in 24 hours.  The old girl's running up and down the back stairs now like a spry 4-year-old. 

Monday went as quick as it came.  Oldest was dropped back at the dorm in all of 22 minutes.  Seriously, we have it down to a science now.  Plus, there's no mushy goodbye or unpacking for him since, well, he's 22 years old and can hang his own clothes. I had a preop appointment shortly after drop off.  I was mid EKG when they called me to let me know my surgery had been delayed again until mid-February. This provokes a whole host of issues as we had timed Hubs surgery to fall in line with mine without unnecessarily using up sick time. So that's out the window.  When I finally got out to the car I cried. I'm moving on now, pushing through, but it's insane frustrating to put myself off for year and when I finally decide to do something it gets delayed because of hospital logistics. 

Youngest has been showing some effort to change. Tuesday and Wednesday were successful days for him. He was able to schedule his car in for repairs and an inspection sticker which is due at the end of the month. He saw his orthopedic for his foot (from the long boarding incident in July) and his hand (knife injury in May).  His ortho called in an emergent appointment with a hand specialist, which miraculously was the same day, and he has a scheduled MRI and consult scheduled within the next 2 weeks.  We have been trying to get this set up for 6 months and it literally happened in one day. Odds are he'll need surgery for a severed tendon, but we shall wait and see.  

Thursday and Friday proved less productive for him, but I'm letting him work through it on his own for now. I'm trying to set hard boundaries, as in I'm happy to help you, but you'll have to give me some time and do it on my schedule, kind of stuff. There's no money left to dig him out of these manic based decisions so ultimately, he'll have to find a way with, or without, my help. *sigh* The polar coaster is exhausting. He did manage to have dinner with his mentor though, so that's always a positive. Youngest has avoided him for most of the last year.

I saw a FB meme the other day in which an old farmer was asked to say grace.  Loosely, it went something like, "Lord, I hate buttermilk.  Lord, I hate lard. And you know, I've never been very found on white flour. But when you mix those terrible things together, well, there's not much more I love than biscuits.  So, the next time I'm not happy about what's going on, remind me that while I may not like what I've got now, it's because you're cooking up something so much better for later."  

I'm not a super religious person, but man, that's going to be one damn good home cooked meal.

Week 1....

 New Year's was celebrated by waving Youngest's camper goodbye for good. While I didn't have the extra cash to make it happen, it was worth every penny to have it hauled away. Youngest is now tasked with resolving the other poor choices he's made over the last few months, which, while difficult, do not involve a full toilet holding tank or toxic mold within the walls.

Tuesday was an unexpected day off. The Hubs lost a good friend shortly after Christmas and I had the nagging feeling that I should take the day to see his widow at the wake. Work called at 6 am to let me know my shift was covered and at 730 the phone rang again for my pre-op anesthesia phone call.  Turns out, I needed blood work, an EKG, and a clearance note from my doctor before I head into surgery on the 23rd. After some hectic scrambling, I managed to get some appointments scheduled to ensure I will be in compliance within the week. Later that night my niece and I headed to a brewery nearly two hours away to learn how to shape, plant, and grow bonsai trees. And you know what? As tired as I was, it was totally worth it.

Our New Year's Resolution is to keep them alive.  I ordered a grow light, planted the left-over cuttings, and scheduled myself for another class, much closer to home with my work peeps. Accountability friends. Accountability is key. 

Wednesday I was back to work. They restructured our pay nationwide, and most of the routes gained 2-3 hours of pay per week. I did not.  I understand the reasoning, but it's frustrating. The hope is that since I didn't get the increase, when they restructure again in March, I will not feel the loss as hard. Fingers crossed.

Thursday the electrician, that we have been trying to get to the house for 15 months now, finally came to wire the generator plug to the panel. Mind you, it only took her 3 weeks to come, but we have waited 15 months with 3 other electricians and finally, finally, it is done. So now, in the event we lose power, we will still have heat, the fridge and deep freezer, and the all-important ability to charge phones and watch, albeit antenna, television. 

Friday so far has been uneventful, aside from a text in the wee hours of the morning from Youngest; Thanks for being nice to me today.  

The sun is supposed to return sometime this weekend, ending the 4-day run of rain and drizzle.  Still better than snow, and way better than 20-degree temps. We've got a birthday party for my second cousin this weekend. He's two. It's at a brewery. Should be fun. 

Not a bad first week of 2023.  We're moving slow, not making any loud noises, and (hopefully) quietly rolling into week two. Stay tuned...