Works In Progress...

 I've been having weird dreams lately.  Last night the Hubs was trying to leave me for his old girlfriend. The whole dream was about trying to intercept her efforts before he noticed her.  It was weird.

Him: "So, I have a doctor's appointment on the 1st.  Do I need to go to that?"

Me: "I can cancel it and send her a message that you want refills of the prescription so you don't have to call if the Lyme reoccurs."

Yeah, can you do that?"

"Yes.  Seriously, what would happen if I didn't do stuff???"

 "I tell you all the time, we'd fall apart."

 "Good thing you didn't leave me for her."

 "Right? I mean, where would I be now?"

 "She didn't handle stuff like this?"

 "I don't know, I don't think it ever came up.  We weren't together that long."

 "You lived together for two years..."

 "I guess it takes me a long time to really settle in."

Apparently, settling in for him is somewhere between years 10 and 17. And since he's settled in, I'm not thinking too much into why I'm having dreams of him leaving me for her. Well, that and she's got two kids now under ten and he has absolutely NO desire to raise anymore kids that aren't his. He's helped raise four boys, that's enough.

Youngest has his court appearance today, virtually.  It got a six  month continuance, so provided he keeps his nose clean it will go away in July.  He settled up with the last person that owed him money from way back, diplomatically rather than physically, which I am always a fan of. He's 3 days clean, not sure how long it will last, or if it will last, but it's something. After the lawyer's office, he asked to go to lunch, that he was starving. This is huge since he's not been able to keep down food or have any appetite in weeks. Funny how once you've gone through withdrawals and eliminated some stress, your body falls in line.  He mentioned finishing the garage for his birthday, which is costly and a lot of work.  I told him if he was clean for a month and passed a drug test I'd do it for him so he could have a more weather proof workout area.  It's unlikely, but I could see the wheels turning. Truth be told I'd love to have the garage weather proofed, so it would be a win for us both. 

Oldest moves back to the big city Saturday.  The grocery trip this afternoon will be costly as he won't be able to come home for at least a month. I'm excited for him, but it will take some getting used to. I am also getting excited about getting the space back in the basement that's been housing all his dorm stuff. Seriously, more space for organization is never a bad thing. 

The snow has finally arrived. I'm not a fan, but it's a necessary evil.  I suspect someday, when I don't have to drive in it for 5 hours a day I will learn to love it, but for now it's a four letter word.  

On the COVID front our state is finally back under 5% positivity rate.  Which is great.  Sadly though, I know someone who had the vaccine, both doses, and came down with COVID shortly after.  Her symptoms were mild, but the fact that so many are counting on this as a cure all is scary to me.  Once the vaccines really roll out, people will REALLY let their guard down and the rates will soar again. 

Lastly, I am off for the next 5 days. I have been pushing through for the last two weeks ago and the infection in my guts finally took me down on Tuesday.  I am on the mend, but it was a quick reminder that I can't take on so much at work and home. And if I do, I have to find ways to not internalize it. 

Forty six years and I'm still a work in progress.

But aren't we all?

It's Right in Front Of You...

 Me: "You know, honey... just so you know, sometimes I still get the butterflies in my stomach when I think of you.  You know, that flippy feeling in my gut like when we first met."

Him: "That's nice. I still get a flippy feeling in my stomach too."

Me: "That's the poison."

Marriage.  You've got to keep it interesting. 

Today I picked up some inexpensive shelving units at our local discount store. We shifted the basement and Hubs moved all his sports cards to one location in the house.  I have the laundry room back now. And, the basement tables, the shelves on the opposite side of the basement, the space next to the couch, under the bed, and by the TV in the bedroom.  Seriously, it was everywhere. It took a few hours and he still has a bit more work to do, but his revolving collection (the stuff he will sell) is all in one space, and organized. Make no mistake about it, he has 50+ boxes there and each box holds between 3-5K cards.  I'll let you do the math.  The undertaking was huge. 

I have never been more turned on.

So while he was working on that, I went through an reorganized some of Youngest's childhood boxes.  The childhood boxes are the boxes that, when they have cleaned out or moved rooms, they weren't quite ready to part with.  Although upon closer inspection, I suspect Youngest just ran out of ambition and just started dumping stuff in, because sitting among some used tissues I found his class ring.  He thought that was funny that it fits now, and then we thought it would be best if I hung on to it for the time being. 

I also went though and put some of the clothes he no longer wears in bins under his bed.  It freed up a ton of space for him to put the stuff he does wear away.  It takes him a long time to process getting rid of clothes for some reason. He's much like the Husband in that respect.  Truth be told I am far more patient with Youngest's inability to let things go than the Hubs.

Youngest has been spending more time at home, so much that I have realized how cold his room gets.  When we built the room in July of 2019, it was a temporary fix while Bonus Son moved in.  Youngest quickly claimed it as his own, and since last winter was mild and he wasn't supposed to be here this winter, we never connected the heat.  Yesterday I went and got the duct work to make it official and now his room is a toasty little oven. He seems satisfied with it, and it makes reading in bed much more comfy. And that's one habit of his I can totally embrace.

He's doing better, Youngest. The road is very long, and every time I think we care coming out of the woods something happens that makes me think we'll never reach the forest's edge. But for now, I'm enjoying the peacefulness of better choices.  He's debating taking some college courses on a flex term at the Community College 20 minutes up the road. The number's on the fridge and the ball's in his court.  We shall see.  

Oldest is leaving in 12 days for the city.  He can't wait.  I will miss him, but I know he needs this.  I suspect I will be a mess, as it will be like him leaving for the first time all over again. He has been home for almost a full year.  None of us saw that coming, for sure. The hope is that he can stay healthy and come home when he feels the need.  At least this year he has a kitchen and can cook for himself.  Being at college and only having take and go food options gets old quick.

I went through the medicine cabinet top pull together some basics for him to take with him.  When I stumbled on the Advil from 2011, I thought it might be time to clean out a bit.  It's not a glamorous task but it made me feel so much better.  Especially since my tooth brush now has a home in there, instead of over the toilet.  A detail that has been completely insignificant for years until TWICE this week it has landed in the toilet.  You'll not that there's an entire container designated for "Teeth" now. It's not a coincidence that it contains brand new toothbrushes.

I seriously want to be an organizer in my next career. I love not having to search for things. Every bin has a label, all expired stuff is gone, and bulky packaging is no more. 

Rest assured though, the men will still not be able to find anything. 

Dude, Turn Off The Mom Signal...

Seriously, the signal's been on all day. 

Which then begs to question, if there really was a Mom Signal that lit up in the sky every time someone needed a Mom, what would it look like?  

I took the day off because Youngest had to meet with the surgeon regarding the labrum tear in his shoulder.  I had wanted to get some things done for myself that have been lingering before the appointment, and honestly, I am just tired.  Meanwhile my cortisone shot, for my shoulder, is scheduled for Friday, and while I wait I am losing sleep, and have slowly lost the ability to dress myself, hold the phone to my ear, or do cartwheels.  Full disclosure: I can't do a cartwheel with a healthy shoulder, but I might like to try, and now I can't.

The day started at 7am.  Youngest had the day off (unexpected) and his car needed to go back to the dealer to have a few things fixed.  Before we knew it it was 9:30. The husband also unexpectantly stayed home from work.  He is back to not being able to breathe.  So now Youngest's plans are messed up for the day.  In an effort to smooth things over I offer to download Netflix on his computer so he can watch a movie with his friend in his room.  Instead, I'm now stuck on the phone for almost two hours trying to get the referral for pulmonary for the husband. So, I ask Oldest to set it up for me.  He has a small fit about why he has to do all things technical and why do we still not have honey nut cheerios??? 

Um, maybe because no one can do anything for themselves and I haven't made it to the grocery store yet?

Fed up with everything, I tell Oldest to run the dishwasher when he's done cooking, and meet my Mom for lunch.  While waiting for her, I call and schedule the dog for her teeth cleaning, because apparently I'm the only one who can do that too. After lunch I ran to the grocery store, grabbed the basics, and head home. I put everything away, clean up a bit, move the laundry over so we all have clean masks tomorrow, and we're back out to the surgeon appointment 45 minutes away. The appointment went well, he's decided to hold off for now, perhaps entertain a cortisone shot down the line.  Then we head to his therapy appointment after a brief pit stop for food since there's not much time in between. As he goes in for his appointment, I get a call to help my nephew with his math homework. Then head to Home Depot to grab something to rig up a make shift windshield defrost in Oldest's car for the next three weeks until he leaves for school. I return to pick up Youngest, arrive home, and the dog needs to be walked.

I get in from that and Oldest, my technically savvy, go to for anything I am overwhelmed with, Dean's list student, says:

 "I need help with mailing that package. I don't know how to address it."

" You don't know how to use a Sharpie marker?"

"Not to address it correctly..."

And that is when I tapped out folks.  He can fix the door handle in my car, take apart his defrost to try and fix it, solve any computer issue we have, but can't remember how to address an envelope without me.

I'm done. Take a number family, get in line, pitch a tent... I'll get to you in the morning.

And now as I write this, I'm pretty sure I'll never see what my Mom Signal will look like shining bright in the sky, because my bulb is BURNT out.

And I'm the only one who'd be able to find the right bulb, change it out, and remember to pay the electric bill. 

Quietly Moving Into 2021. No One Touch Anything...

Does anyone else feel like they blinked and it was December?

It can't be just me.

And yet, here we are on New Year's Eve.  Bonus son is working until 9pm, then headed home so he's ready for work in the morning.  Oldest is hunkered down in his room, like most days now, fully engrossed in video games *cough* not looking for a job. sigh  Youngest, much to my dismay has headed over to a friend's house, a term I use loosely, for the night.  He is supposed to stay there.  He did not drive.  I will be picking him up around 8 am so he can sleep off whatever his night entails and be ready for work at 2pm. 

I made a comment about how I resented that he made it feel like we weren't good enough to spend his night with.  He said he "doesn't like when I put words in his mouth, and that I say New Year's Eve is overrated, but he doesn't know that because he's only been out once to celebrate it in his 18 years." He has a point, but I don't have to like it. Parenting is not for sissies my friends.

We have two people positive for COVID in the office.  It was a matter of time really.  Contact tracing has rendered 3 more people out until the 7th, making it very difficult to staff.  I am training a new person which is hopeful and helpful for the office.  So far I'm still feeling healthy, and both employees are recovering nicely.  

The rest of our couch has arrived.  It's quite comfy, and provides a ton of extra seating without taking up any extra space, a huge plus in a tiny home. My sister got me a pillow for Christmas...

The husband agreed to have my ring redesigned for me for Christmas. I had a journey ring for years that was made from a diamond I got in Rome in the late 90's, a promise ring Tony gave me when we first started dating to tell me he was "all in" in '05, and a pearl that the boys had sent a diver down for at Sea World during our first vacation together as a blended family in '07.  Last year, the pearl had become so worn that the prongs started to shift and so, to not risk losing the diamonds, I stopped wearing it.  He redesigned the ring to incorporate my engagement ring, and I was able to pick it up right before Christmas.   

Christmas day otherwise was all about the cleaning. I swear I cleaned the house at least 3 times before I felt like I was making a dent.  For the first time in 17 years I took the day after Christmas off.  It was nice to have the day to put everything away and take the tree down.  They called me at home however to let me know that I needed to work on Monday. The post Christmas 6 day work weeks have begun, and with so many out on quarantine, I don't see it ending soon.  

Oldest decided to move back to the city at the end of the month.  I will miss him terribly but it's what he needs.  I will not miss his yelling at the computer. Not. At. All. I took 5 days off just so I could at least be there which ever day he is told he can move in. Covid still allows for only one parent at the actual move in, and I'm enlisting the Hubs for the manual labor. I can pay for lunch afterwards.

A few days ago the bulb burnt out on our ceiling light over the kitchen table.  Turns out it's a funky bulb and I had to search the Depot for about an hour before finding it.  I tried installing it that night and the whole fixture flickered and then fell from the ceiling. Calling it a sign from the universe that I should woman up and buy the light I've been eyeing for 4 years, I broke down and brought it home. Oldest and I were able to install it, mostly in the dark. It's not perfect, but it will do, and hopefully not fall from the ceiling. 

The husband made several comments about it before it was up, now he's fine with it, mostly because it didn't involve him for installation, and I didn't electrocute myself in the process. None of us can believe how bright it is now.  I also found a dawn to dusk bulb for the front steps while I was at the Depot, well worth the $6, and some $5 LED workshop lights that I've installed throughout the garage. It's really been enlightening over here. <- See what I did there?  

So that's the news from this part of the blog o'sphere.  Nothing spectacular, just moving into 2021 quietly, slowly, not touching anything. Listening to the universe, dodging cooties, and silently praying daily for Youngest that 2021 is a turning point for him. 

What else can we do, right?

The 2020 Annual Family Letter...

Dear Family,

Where do we start on this epic year? 2020's January promise was palatable.  Bonus son closed on his condo. And despite the two day delay, his move in went smoothly. 

February was uneventful until Youngest and I got sick.  A weird cold, with extreme fatigue and high fever.  Youngest was better for a few days and then the fatigue really hit.  An err in judgement the night before regionals landed him in the hospital.  Asleep at the wheel, he rolled the car on the highway.  Lucky to be alive, he wrestled 6 hours after discharge in Regional Sectionals and placed 2nd in his weight division. Seems like a life time ago now.

March was Youngest's 18th birthday.  We went to dinner with his friends at his favorite steakhouse.  Twenty minutes after we came home the governor shut everything down. And just like that, people's world stopped spinning, while our world spun faster. While others stayed home, left alone with their thoughts, they cleaned, purged, wallowed, and lamented, we went out, worked harder, faster, ignored our own thoughts, and were left with no time for anything else.

13 years of school was upended in April, traded for 40 hour work weeks, face to face with an unhappy public, for things and policies out of Youngest's control. Oldest's first year of college, left dangling and uncertain.  Unplanned, unprecedented, his struggle was palpable, loud, and heard round the house from the kitchen table. 

By May, High School was abandoned altogether, and college was wrapped up with stress and trepidation.  Both finished with GPAs over 3.5. Trying to control what I could, I made and donated over 400 masks to workers in every field. I never took a dime, but quite literally worked my fingers to the bone, and wasn't able to sew for months after from the hand pain.

In June formal traditions abandoned, in lieu of a drive through graduation. Perhaps the cherry on the top of it all, graduating with the dog by his side, Youngest's struggle was more than evident, and the fall was inevitable. Parties on hold, gatherings came at a cost, everything became a game of what you're willing to sacrifice. The hubs uneventfully turned 54. Individual cakes were handed out during a backyard party. 

The youngin's spent all their free time on the beach in July, while the old worked harder and longer days than they should have.  Science evolved, and then it didn't.  People grew tired and got lazy, mistakes were made, accidents happened. The private, personal fireworks happened all month long, a casualty of surrounding towns cancelling their events.

The August heat bubbled everything over.  Oldest was staying home, commuting to school that may or may not happen.   Youngest's choices caught him, leaving the new car another pile of twisted metal.  He left for dorm life, the choices followed him, and the consequences were harsh.   

Oldest could not escape the drama of consequences left behind in Youngest's wake, his whole first month of school upset by the events that followed.  Youngest was hospitalized for a suicide attempt, locked up in his affectionately called "nut house", unmedicated, cell phone less, and sober it was probably the first time since March that he could think clearly.  He rediscovered his love of apple and orange juice while there, an odd, but quirky perk from a bad situation.

October found us on a quick birthday vacation, local and easy.  Forty six. How did I even get here? Upon our arrival home I finally broke down over chicken risotto, or lack there of, and my world unraveled. Funny what finally sets you over the edge. The husband was hospitalized overnight for heart and lung issues.  He was alone.  I could only drop off clothes and books at the desk. It was isolating and scary. He had a inflammation around his heart and lungs, unexplained, but curable. 

Oldest turned 20 in November. The husband was finally diagnosed with stage 3 Lyme after not being able to breathe for months. Old, shoved aside emotions reared their head as his mother's estate finally settled. We received notice that Youngest's choices from July continue to haunt him now, well into next year. The dog has a UTI, that's now resistant to two different antibiotics, but on the upside, my floors have never been cleaner.

Which brings us to December, facing the biggest snow storm in years, catching yet another pee sample from the dog for testing, with half a couch in the living room and a tired soul.  Youngest's game of chess is exhausting, and his two steps forward, side stepping back, is dizzying.  Oldest finished his semester with grades yet to be seen, and has committed to leave for the city in January regardless of cost.  My housing refinance fell though because of paperwork required by my original bank, which would render too costly and because of COVID, impossible to produce. This is the same refinance that has prevented me from securing a cosign for Oldest's tuition, thus forcing us to get creative. 

There are two weeks left in this year of years. While I remain hopeful, for 2021, the bar is low, really low. God willing if New Year's day will find us all sliding in sideways with a candy cane in one hand and cocoa in the other, with no sign of corona, I'll be happy. But more likely, if we are all still alive and completely asleep by 10pm on New Year's Eve, I'll consider it an epic win.

Until next year,

Juli

Checking In...

 

Saw this on the book of faces.  (Yes, I'm back on, don't judge me.  At least now I know I can walk away.)  I sent it to Youngest, since his manic episodes have led to much shopping (and more recently returning).  It's the compulsive click to feel better, and then, well, he doesn't. 

Him: "It will be here in a month."

Me: "Good thing Alaska doesn't use her kennel."

Him: "It's the perfect place"

 Things have been slowly getting better.  I am almost afraid to say it aloud because when I do the backslide is inevitable.  He has court on Thursday (Edit: HAD court, it was continued, his lawyer feels it will be better for him to not be virtual.) and we went to my friend's house to get him a hair cut.

Her: "So what look are we going for today?"

Him: "Not guilty."

Ultimately the consensus is that things will work out fine.  Just kind of stinks that he can't resolve it before the holidays.  But for now, he's moving on to the next thing, finding a car.  He's started working part time again, and doesn't hate it.  We went to breakfast the other day with my Mom.  His appetite is less than acceptable.  I asked him if it was the stress of court or if it was something else.

Him:  "Well, my life's kind of like a house fire right now, and all I've got is a squirt gun to put it out. But, I've let people know they need to settle what they owe me.  I figure then I can upgrade to a super soaker."

THIS is Youngest.  This, off the cuff, quick as a whip humor that I missed so much.  He's struggling still, yes.  But There's tiny, tiny, steps that say he's working through things.  He confessed a guilt to his girlfriend tonight, they broke up... again.  Not sure what's going to happen there, but just because she's good to him, doesn't mean she's good for him.  And all relationships end, one way or another.

Oldest is just about done with his semester.  I believe he starts finals this week. All I know is that this online hybrid thing sucked and he's headed to the city in January.  He's back with his old roommates in a luxury high rise dorm that he'll never be able to afford outside of college. It will be easier for him to study with his groups and learn immersed in the college experience, it's just a hefty price tag to pay.  Though, I'm mid-refinance on the house so my co-signing for him has gone wonky.  I have options, just not sure I want to use them yet. 

The hubs is on another run of antibiotics since the first one barely touched the Lyme symptoms.  Holiday is on us and we're both stretched thin which doesn't help. The dog is on the mend though, her uti seems to have cleared up nicely and while we still put them down, the pee pads are only utilized one of 5 nights now.  Fingers crossed she's good to go, because giving her pills has become an all out game of chess, and I have no idea how to play chess.

Hubs and I picked 2 things we wanted this year.  I dropped off my rings at the jewelers yesterday for the redesign I wanted. Today I picked up the new couch that Hubs wanted...

Well, half of the couch. We would have had to make two trips anyway and we already took the other couch out.  Rather than wait another week, we took what they had.  Seems the distribution center shipped out 2 lefts by mistakes.

Well played 2020, well played.

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. 

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....

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.  

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.

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?