My Birthday

Not such a great day at home with two crankies that day, but I had a great time out. Hmmm, that sounds sucky, but I was out most of the day. At work, my two co-workers had gotten me a sweet little gift - a lemonade scented candle and holder and a Harry & David Moose Munch Bar. The candle has my whole desk smelling good (not lit, though, as you can't do so in the building). The candy bar was savored that evening after dinner. I love those bars and usually only get one at Christmas. They have popcorn in them, nuts and other stuff covered in chocolate. Yummy. Then I went out to dinner with six friends and we had a blast laughing and talking. We're talking about having a girl's night out monthly. The following day we headed out to my home town for my best friend's daughter's college graduation party. It was wonderful to see all of her family who, after all these years, are very much like family to me. Again, lots of laughing and talking and reminiscing. And I saw her little grandson for the first time. Rachel had fun, too, and the night before while I was on the girl's night out, she babysat two little girls she really loves. Anyway, it turned out pretty great. Not a bad deal for an old lady.

Difficult Decisions

My Folks at my Brother's Wedding 

My youngest sister has always lived with or near my parents. They either shared a house with a basement apartment, lived across the hall from each other in apartments or, as they do now, lived together in my sister and her husband's home. Shortly after they moved to Texas, my parent's health began a slowly deterioration. I think they've been there for about ten years now and in the last three, my parent's health has really gotten bad. My dad has dementia that has deteriorated so quickly the doctors doubt he will know any of us by this time next year. In fact, when they rallied health-wise this summer and made a trip here to visit, staying at my brother's, my dad mentioned he didn't know me for about the first 15 minutes I was there even though I was talking to him. He did recognize my daughter, though. My mother has had numerous back surgeries and a recent hip surgery after a fall and break. While Mom was in the hospital, Dad's dementia took a serious turn for the worse. So now my sister has the difficult position of placing them in an assisted living situation. The truth is, she just can't manage it anymore. It's becoming dangerous for all of them. This decision isn't being taken lightly. She has loved them and cared for them for a lot of years, paying them back, I imagine, for all the help they gave her while she and her husband got their degrees and my parents cared for her children. She's been dealing with accidents on the floor or missing the toilet, wet beds and chairs, trying to convince them to get up and change or shower or whatever they need to do. Now she is enduring broken wedding dishes because my father doesn't realize he's missing the cabinet, then doesn't realize he's dropped the plate and just gets another. My mother can't accept that he isn't going to improve and keeps trying to get him to do things he is no longer capable of, so things that could become fire hazards or other damage to the house are issues. He put an entire Costco size bottle of laundry detergent in the washer the other day and had he started the water, it would have been a disaster. Instead, my sister and her husband caught it and spent hours cleaning it all out. He's fallen out of bed and not been able to get up on his own, so he sleeps there all night. The last time, my sister found him on the floor with a bloody head, but he was not aware he'd been hurt. She had to call an ambulance. There is much, much more going on, but it is clear she cannot care for them anymore. It's just too much. For anyone. And she works many hours and has a family to care for, as well. It would be too much and overwhelming for someone who stayed at home, too. So, she alone, because she lives so far away, has had to pursue this action. I admire my younger sister. I admire her and am grateful for the love and care she has given my parents. My heart goes out to her. My parents are furious with her over all of this and, though my dad's mental condition keeps him from understanding why he is angry, my mother's emotions transfer over to him and he's actually been threatening to her. It's simply a dangerous situation for everyone involved at this point. Keeping them there and having the house catch fire or one of them fall and kill themselves or have violence erupt is just too much of a danger for everyone. I know in my heart that this is the best decision. I hope and pray that my other siblings will see it the same way and be kind to my sister during this emotional and difficult time. She truly is at a breaking point. What I wouldn't give to be able to go there and help her through it all.

National Award?!?!?!?!?!?!

I could hardly believe it! But here it is, my mother of the year award. Please follow the link bragging. Sorry I couldn't get it set up so you could just click, but you can copy and then paste in your browser.

http://news.cnnbcvideo.com/?nid=FOKhfW4Tb2V9F.vMRsiNZTExOTI3NjAw&referred_by=15866206-l1K2Wgx&p=moveon


Okay, so my friend, Nyla, sent it to me. Then I got it again from another friend, Chas. It was a great little gift for Mother's Day.

How Mother's Day Went

Well, as always, it was wonderful. Rachel's old enough she believes I should have the day off and I did, mostly. I did some laundry and cleaned up the kitchen that evening, but otherwise I relaxed.

I ask for practical gifts, so Jay got what I asked for (just so no one disses him for it) - a couple of pot holders and dish towels. Rachel got me a beautiful necklace and earrings. The earrings are little diamond studs (not real ones, of course) and the necklace is a beautiful dark pink flower with diamonds in the center. Someone was kind enough to send an anonymous Walmart gift card, so I got some desperately needed blouses for work with it, too. It was a pretty nice holiday and I don't feel like I have to wear the same 4 or 5 shirts over and over again at work. Whoever did it had a great sense of timing. I thank them profusely.

I finally talked Jay into seeing the Dr. about his dang cough. I think it's bronchitis. He goes tomorrow morning. Rachel was sick again and I'm hoping it doesn't come back on me as I just got well again. I asked Jay to clean with bleach water which he said he did, but it sure didn't smell like it. That's really the only way to kill off these sick bugs. We'll see how it goes.

I started working out again Monday. I got up at 4:15 a.m. to fit it in but didn't manage that this morning. I plan to do a walking video (80 degrees is too hot for me to walk outside, sorry). We'll see if I manage. But I plan to get up at 4:15 again tomorrow. It's so hard to work out after work for me right now. That will get easier as the workouts do, but for now, I'll just have to get up early.

That's about it, I guess.

Once A Year

It only comes once a year. Yep, that's it. A holiday in which you are required to tell your mother how much you appreciate her for: the nine months of pregnancy that caused her stretch marks and made her vericose veins worse, 23 hours of labor that some sadist told her wouldn't be so bad and she'd miss out on the beauty of child birth if she had an epidural, two hours of pushing without results and the ensuing c-section that brought you into the world. There were the first couple of weeks when she didn't realize she didn't have enough breast milk and you cried, out of hunger, constantly and she cried with you because she felt so incapable. There was the exhaustion that made her demand your father go to the store and buy formula because obviously, after hearing other new moms at church talk about their leaking breast milk, she didn't have enough to sustain you and didn't think there might be alternatives. There was the sweetness of you still nursing, despite what little your earned for it, for another five and a half months because - and maybe you did know this - she needed it to feel she'd experienced all of the motherhood she'd yearned 35 years for since you'd be her only one. There were the sleepless nights, the weening from the bottle to a sippy cup, the sippy cup to a cup with a lid and straw, the straw to a big cup (that you still often use a straw in, but not because you can't drink it any other way). There was the weening from a pacifier, the plug, as we called it. It was all so easy and sweet and quick. Then there was potty training. Not so easy or sweet or quick, but eventually you got it and in all the years since, you'd only had one accident - not that I'd expect you to at this stage in the game. Then there was preschool and having other mother's so impressed that you could sing your alphabet, sign your name and count and name colors so well. Kindergarten brought on "real" school days and there was the sending you off thinking how hard it would be and you just turned around and waved saying, "Bye, Mama", already not missing her much. But to make up for that, you ran into her arms at the end of the school day when she picked you up and all the things you talked about on your way home from school.

I still cherish those moments - in the car after school when you talk to me about whatever is on your mind. First grade was hard...for me. You were gone all day and I started to volunteer at school just to feel like I was still a part of your life during the day, I think. Well, and to be what I had always thought motherhood should be. I missed you soooo much those first few weeks. Then I saw how much you were learning, the friends you were making, how much you loved to read and learn, how much you loved your teachers and school in general. I saw so much joy in your eyes. It filled up my heart and made it overflow. I cherish those times when you come to me for a quick hug or to read something you've written. You are an artist with the written word and I know one day you will have stories published to share with everyone and they will know they've read some of the best stuff out there. I marvel at the mind inside your head, the thoughts that are in it, the creativity. I marvel that here we are, 12 years into this amazing journey, and I still feel an overwhelming joy every time I see you. I smile the moment I see you walking toward the car when I pick you up from school and wonder what will be on your mind when you get in. I feel my heart well up with love when I send you off - to school, young women's, a friend's house - because I know I'll miss you while you're gone. I try not to think of the day I will send you off to college, to marriage, maybe on a mission and you will be away for longer than ever before. You will be grown up and though my mothering and love and joy in you will be just as powerful, just as available, just as amazing, you will be grown and on your own. Even so, I look forward to that, too, because what I really want has little to do with myself and everything to do with you. I want the best for you.

So, even though college is still at least 6 years away, I want you to know that I pray every day for your safety, your happiness, that you will not be drawn into this world's negativeness but be filled with the love of your Heavenly Father. I want you to know your dad and I love you, no matter what, unconditionally. I hope for peacefulness in our world and that no matter your age or where you are in life, that I can be there - that you will know I am there - to guide you, love you, give of myself to you. Because I'll tell you something, little girl of mine, YOU are my Mother's Day gift. You are what it's all about for me. You are the best, most precious and what I'm most grateful for in my life. And Mother's Day might come once a year on the calendar, but since the day I first knew of your existance inside me, every day has been Mother's Day for me. And it's the ride of my life. I love you, Boo.

Swine Flu a Little Out of Hand

I've had another cold and, of course, it flairs up the asthma. So although I feel better overall, I still have a bad cough. A few days ago, Jay and I were walking through Walmart and I had a coughing fit. EVERYONE was looking at me, fear in their eyes. I felt like yelling, "I do not have Swine Flu!" Then again, when I told my co-workers about it, one of them said I should have played it up. I said I could have told Jay, "Honey, maybe we should have put off the trip to Mexico." Then we would have had the whole store to ourselves. No waiting in line.