What Has Been Happening

Oh so much but yet......so little.

Since I last wrote, we've had quite a few things go down.

1) Judd's Grandfather went to the ER one Saturday night. Grandma called here, at the house, while my husband was at work. Saying Grandpa was hurting awful and throwing up. So I headed over there, expecting the worst, to find Grandpa sitting in his chair, looking just fine. But, after some questioning and observing, I thought something wasn't right. When he suddenly had to go to the bathroom to vomit, again, my Mother in Law, Grandma and I decided a call to 911 was necessary. And, I volunteered to make the call only AFTER getting verbal consent from everyone involved as I was NOT going down for this. ( Grandpa was insisting he was fine and "didn't want anyone to fuss".)  I go out in the dark, overheated garage and whisper Grandpa's symptoms to the 911 operator, who thought I was insane.  Long story short (er), fire trucks pull up, Grandpa glares at me but, when the EMTS asked of his pain level, 10 being worst pain ever, he said 8 or 9, I was glad I called. After tests at ER, it is determined that Grandpa, age 86, has a very large kidney stone, 1cm in diameter, which is really big.  He required surgery and ended up in the hospital for almost 2 wks.  It was really quite the ordeal.  Lots of trips back and forth as we soon discovered that someone needed to be in the hospital room when the doctors came in, to save a lot of confusion. He needed a stent put into his bladder but previously had a stent put in his heart years ago, so when Grandma heard "stent" she told them he already had one and it just went downhill from there. I could go on and on about family drama and the stress of it all but in the end, Grandpa is doing great and we hope to not repeat any of it.

2) My beautiful lady I wrote about here passed away, shortly after I posted that story.  Thankfully, she did not "suffer" long and I was able to say good-bye.  I was reminded of how I was there the day she moved in, showed her to her room, explained the call system and walked her to dinner that first evening. She lived there quite awhile and the whole building grieved at her passing.  Her room was filled in less than a week and I will be honest, it's hard not to hold a grudge against the new resident. And, not just this time.  I can go through the entire building and tell you who has lived in each room, as most are not "original " occupants. I still think of room #339 as Dwight and Joan's even tho they haven't lived there for years.  Life does go on. 

3) I took  my oldest and his friends sandboarding again. You can read here how that went down last year. This year, there were no arguments on A) me driving them again and B) no swimming!! 
Once again, I sat around, read my book, had lunch and just relaxed while they went up and down the dunes. Derek was kind enough to bring Titus a life jacket:

What you may not notice, this is a child's life jacket on anything but a child.

 Titus wore it into McDonalds when we stopped for breakfast. You just never know when tragedy will strike.
I want to take a moment and say I enjoy hanging out with my kids and their friends. Not many people can say that.  Oh, to be young again: 

My kid is the whitest. Also, he is NOT totally nude behind the board. It wasn't that kind of trip. 

4) My next "tidbit" is not so much of a happening as, well, a tidbit.  I've told you a few stories of the residents at my job. But, I haven't told you about all of them. 

Baxter

Willow

Two of the fattest cats I ever have seen.  Willow is somewhat friendly but doesn't move much (shocker) but Baxter is an entirely different story.   His "mom" leaves her room door open for Baxter to visit and roam the hallways.  I wish with all my heart I could capture on video for you what happens when I round the corner, see him down yonder and say "Baxter!! Bubba!! I missed you" and watch him RUN at me. If you've never seen a 20+lb cat run at you, you haven't lived.  After the initial love fest, where he rubs against my black pants and I pet him, rub his belly, tell him he's a good boy, he then proceeds to "hide" behind things as I work my way down the hall, room to room. I come out, and he's there but he's invisible.

Hiding behind a chair and plant. If he doesn't make eye contact, I don't see him. 

This continues all night until I get to "his" room. I announce "It's bed time Baxter, let's go!" and off he goes, into his room, I close the door and put he and his "mom" to bed.  Sometimes, he behaves and lets me pull back the bedding before climbing in,other times, he is rude and lays smack dab in the middle. You may wonder why Baxter is so large. It may be that his diet consists of chicken nuggets, cheese and other table scraps.  I will never forget when his "mom" asked me to wheel her down to the front desk so she could ask the maintenance man to come up to her room and make Baxter a harness so she could walk him. Matt looked at me, I looked at Matt.  He finally told her, very nicely, that was beyond his job description.


Never boring, folks, never boring.

Can't Do ANYTHING Right!

My job is hard. It's very rewarding, interesting, heart tugging, tear jerking, frustrating, hilarious and hard. 

For me, physically it is more difficult now than it ever was before. I have a broken ankle, that, yes, it's healing, but it still hurts. It's making my knee hurt, which makes my hips hurt. And, my back.  I'm taking more pain pills now than I was when I first broke the darn thing. I'm hoping my knee is residual and not a different injury all together. 

But, I do love my job.  The people I take care of make me laugh and cry. I enjoy giving them love in return and in some cases, making their last days, comfortable and dignified. 

We do have hospice patients at the Home.  Sometimes, a resident will be put on hospice and will only last days. Sometimes, weeks and even months.  Everyone is different and dying is no exception. 

Ingrid was put on hospice during my first round of employment at the Home. So, that would've been almost three years ago.  Some days, she's barely conscious and doesn't interact with anyone. But, most days, she sits in her recliner, with her door open and yells things at us as we walk by.  She gets lonely. She loves to have her hair brushed, her nails painted and for anyone to come in, sit down and just talk to her.   She does have a catheter and can't walk without assistance.  Her mind, however, is sharp.  As a tack.  That you step on in the middle of the night.  You sort of wish you hadn't encountered it. 

Her sense of humor is my favorite thing about her.  Her comebacks are amazing and her smile lights up the whole room. 

She loves milk. But, milk doesn't agree with her.  One day, she decided to try almond milk. She had it for lunch. And dinner. 

We quickly realized almond milk doesn't like her either.  I think I had to clean her up 3 times.  And, when someone can't stand alone, let alone use the toilet alone, you can imagine how fun it was. For both of us (neither of us??) but it had to be done.
It was during the third cleaning, as she lay naked on her bed, me washing her from head to toe, that she told me she thought she was dying.

Now, she knows she's on hospice, I know she's on hospice so yes, she is dying. But, she meant right then and there, she was going to die.

"Ingrid, why on earth do you think that??"

"Well, LOOK at me!! Have you every seen anyone in this bad of shape?"

"Ingrid, when people are dying, they don't eat 4 cookies, sit and watch Wheel of Fortune, poop or pee. Let alone carry out a conversation about Rachel Ray and whether or not one should get a boob job!" (yes, really)

She flops back on the bed, still totally naked.

"Oh for God's sake, I can't even DIE right!!"

Like I said, I love my job. 

Pill Poppin'

As I look down my page here, I see that my posts have been pretty dark and dreary as of late ( like 2 posts in 6 months can be considered "as of late") and I don't like that. Time to change directions.

Had to take Jeven (just turned 9) to the dentist in the middle of church today.  First time we've ever had to call a dentist on a weekend and use the emergency line. 

He was playing with his friends and he and another younger boy collided.  Jeven's mouth hit Seth's head.  Jeven doesn't cry often, so when I saw him crying, holding his mouth, I feared the worst.  Upon inspection, I saw a fat lip and not much else.  When he STILL was crying, I checked his teeth to see if any had been knocked loose.  One permanent tooth, right in front, started to bleed when I pushed on it. 

Now, we've used butterfly bandages, even super glue, here to save us some doctor bills.  But, I will not have my kid looking like a hillbilly with one dead tooth in the front of his adorable face. 

Thankfully, the dentist met us and thoroughly examined him and declared him far from hillbilly status.  When I expressed my gratitude and apologized for interrupting his Sunday, he insisted it is certainly better safe than sorry with permanent teeth and, he confessed, it was his third trip into the office this weekend.  Turns out boys are sort of accident prone. Who knew? (I did. I knew.) 
The dentist suggested offering Jeven some ibuprofen to help with any aches he might have. 

When we got home, I got out the ibuprofen tablets and asked Jeven if he'd ever swallowed a pill before.  (I honestly couldn't remember which of my children have done it. I have four. And most pain relief is given in the middle of the night. My brain gets fuzzy. Don't judge.)

Jeven then proceeded to give this monologue that had his dad and I in stitches.  And, he said it all totally straight faced and serious: 

"Yes, I've swallowed pills before.
At Nana and Papa's house. But, Nana's are the sleepy kind.  Actually, they aren't 'profen kind at all, just sleepy kind.
And, we don't even ask for them.  She just has them set out for us.  And, like a long time before bedtime, too.  Jarrett and I take half pills. But, last time?  She set out whole pills for each of us. So, yes, I can take a pill, mom."

In Nana's defense, the "sleepy pills" are melatonin because my kids do tend to have a little trouble sleeping  places other than their own home. And, she's clarified with me that it's okay to give it to them.  I just never clarified with the boys what was going to happen. So, apparently, Jeven thinks Nana REALLY wants him to sleep. ( :  

Keeping It Real Over Here

I did something unheard of these days.

I deactivated my Facebook account.

Shocking, I know.

I just got fed up. With myself. It was making me feel things I don't like to admit I was feeling.

For one, I was ashamed at how much time I was wasting on there.  It was so easy to tell myself I was just going to check my newfeed  "real fast" and before I knew it, a half hour had passed.

If that wasn't bad enough, I was getting angry. And, bitter. Towards people that I either barely know, or that I see often.

It started slowly. First, somebody would post something that annoyed me, or offended me.  Then, I would "hide"them so I was still friends with them but didn't see their stuff every day.  One or two people here and there. But, eventually, I realized I was hiding more and more people.  I quickly realized the problem wasn't them, it was me.

I was letting their "perfect" lives make me feel horrible about mine.

They post how their daughter made dinner for the entire family, again.
I'm over here yelling at my daughter to "PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO YOUR SCHOOL WORK THAT WAS DUE TWO DAYS AGO!!"

They post about their wonderful vacations.
I'm over here realizing we will probably do nothing this summer. Again.

They post about how much they love Jesus and thank Him for all He's done.
I'm over here quoting Bible verses and they honestly say "Oh, is that a real verse?"and haven't set foot in a church in 10 years.

They post about their new jobs or promotions.
I'm over here praying that my husband doesn't get fired today, like he wishes.

They post about how they hiked to the top of Mt. Pisgah.
I'm over here walking 8+ miles per shift at work, on a broken ankle, in such pain I want to just sob.

Actually, I want to just sob, period.

If I'm keeping it real, I'm struggling. Struggling in too many areas. With my kids--why are they so much work now? More so than when they were toddlers?  With my spirit--I'm so very tired, I've stopped caring about too much. With my body--I'm frustrated with the amount of pain I'm in, With my ankle. With my weight.  With my mind--it's not being my friend.

I've considered taking medication for it but, and this is hard to explain, it's not the answer, for me. I've spoken with my doctor, he thinks losing 18 pounds in a year, after constant counting and exercising, is perfect progress for "someone your age". He thinks I would benefit from a CPAP machine. And, maybe I would. But, I'm over here stuck with over $1000 in medical bills from my adventures falling off my own couch. Adding to that stack with more tests and machines is not the answer.

What is the answer?  For now, it's avoiding comparing my life with the fake lives (because NOBODY'S lives are THAT perfect, all the time) of my "friends". It's doing the best I can, each day and forgiving myself when things aren't perfect.

Awkward Chit Chat

You know when you run into someone at the store, and you know them and even at one time, considered them a close friend?
You stand there and make awkward chit chat and sometimes, more often, you end the chit chat with polite "Let's do coffee sometime" and move on. But, yet, sometimes, if you're truly lucky, you find yourself moving past the chit chat and reaching into the depths and you pour out your life story and the troubles, and hopefully, blessings, you've been dealing with for the last 5 months.

I hope this is that kind of chit chat.

Five months since my last post.  I can't even believe I let it go this long!! I think part of me was so worried about making my "return post" so darn interesting, I ended up avoiding it all together. Or, ducking down another aisle in the store so as to not see the person and avoid talking to them all together.  

Last I left you, I was working several part time jobs and trying to make it through Christmas without harming myself or a loved one.
Mission accomplished!!

I put off harming myself until January 24. That's the day I stood on the arm of the couch, to take down our living room curtains to wash.  Then, proceeded to fall off the arm of the couch and break my ankle.

No more work for me!! But, also? No more cleaning (curtains never did get washed!), cooking or laundry. It was great!!

For the first 3 days.

Then, it got really boring. And, it was hard to just lay there and have the world go on around you.  Going to the bathroom took so much energy and strength.
Eventually, I started to put weight on it and putt-putt around in a wheelchair.  Then, only use crutches and eventually wear TWO shoes again (vs. the fancy boot thingy) and now, 3 months later, walking with a limp.
My ankle is still actually broken but the doctor said I could go back to work. It may take up to 6 months for it to totally heal. Uh. Who knew it took so long for a bone to heal, especially in your 40s.

Yes. I turned 40 in March.  I still can't believe that.  No big party.  Would've been nice to go on a trip or something.  Oh well.  Life at 40 is pretty much the same as it was at 39. Which means we're still broke.

Jayce turned 16 in December. He was anxious to get his driver's license.  But, his dad and I did not think he was ready. 
He had saved money for two summers, birthdays and Christmases and was able to buy a truck.

Jeven helping Jayce wash Red. 

He continued to use his permit and learned to drive the truck.  Last week, he took his driver's test and passed with flying colors.  The next day, he received a phone call saying he was hired at a local home improvement store!! After filling out the original application and doing several math tests, personality tests and an interview.  Good thing as it's a tad expensive to add a 16 yr.old male driver to your insurance policy.

I'm sure there are lots of things I'm leaving out. Lots of "feelings" and thought provoking insights. But, all in all, life is just going on. 

It was good to see you again and I hope to run into you again, really soon!! 

Duck Tape DOES Fix Everything

I live in a house with lots of testosterone. One husband, three sons. Even the dog is a male.

I have my one and only girl. I'm very thankful that I have just the one. Partly, because it makes her that much more special.
And, partly, because OH MY GOD THE DRAMA!! Always the drama. 

All my gray hairs?? Yup. They are from her.

She is a funny, bright, caring and incredible young lady. But. Have I mentioned the drama? 

It's quite odd. Just yesterday, she was toddling around, getting into everything
Now, she's stomping around, getting into everything. 

Some time ago, we had "the talk". She asked lots of questions but didn't seem too concerned about what was just around the corner for her.

I've suspected it was coming, sooner rather than later, by her highs and lows, (AKA as The Drama) and her unpredictability.

Low and behold, I was awakened one Friday morning, by my daughter, calling from the bathroom. She wasn't panicking,(like I said, we had had "the talk") just wanted me to know and verify what she had used from the cupboard was correct.

Later, she was adamant that I NOT tell anyone. She was horrified that her father was already in the know. But, I was NOT to tell a single soul.

So, of course, I texted my mother. (And, now I'm blogging about it. Worst. Mother. EVER!!)
Who sent back a reply that she was crying.
I rolled my eyes and replied back "Stop crying. She's fine. She was prepared"

Now, I soon realized my "supplies" were not suitable for Josie (my heavy duty overnight pads left over from when I had all my issues) so off to Walmart we go.

They have an entire wall of "supplies". All different colors. Sizes. Brands.
As we stood there, trying to decide, Josie having a definite opinion about each box, I found myself getting a little emotional.
I looked at her.
When did she grow up?
This? This is changing everything.
Forever!!

I started to tear up.
But, Josie really did not want a big deal made of it. She'd told me that repeatedly. 

We finally decided that the Teen Pads were appriopriate (And a one time splurge as really? Paying extra for a glittery box is not the norm.)

We start walking thru the store, with my daughter's first box of maxi pads in the cart. I started to cry. Talk about drama.
But, I was careful not to let Josie see.
It was business as usual, as I pushed the cart. Inside my head, I was telling myself, "Your little girl is gone. Forever. She will now be a hormonal woman, with lots issues all her own."

Suddenly, "OH MY GOSH!! MOTHER!! LOOK!! FROZEN DUCT TAPE!!! I GOTTA HAVE IT!! CAN WE GET IT??  IT'S GOT ELSA AND ANNA ON IT!! MOM!!!!!"

Yeah. I quickly threw 3 rolls into the cart, suddenly feeling much better. Perhaps my little girl was still here.

Duck tape. Fixes all sorts of things!

Hey! (The Post That Contains Lots Of Fun Things In Parentheses)

I know. Clever title, huh?  (But you clicked on it so it's fulfilled it's purpose. )


Last time I posted, we were still in the heat of summer. Now, it's scarves and gloves and frozen mud puddles.

School is in full swing.  Jarrett and Jeven go to 4th and 3rd grades. Jarrett has a male teacher for the first time. I think the term "Hero Worship" defines their relationship perfectly.
Jarrett talks about him constantly. At teacher conferences a few weeks ago, I was told Jarrett is doing awesome and this teacher thinks highly of him as well.
Jeven is doing well, too, although it doesn't come as easy for him as it does Jarrett. But, his teacher is wonderful and patient. She "knows" my child and had wonderful things to say about him. And, apparently, Jarrett's current teacher has talked to her and he very much wants Jeven in his class next year.

Jayce is a sophomore in the virtual school. Doing well. Has most of his work done by noon. "A"s and one "B" (in per-calculus, of all things).
Josie is in 6th grade and while she's doing much more work independently, she still occupies a huge chunk of my time. (one reason the boys still go to school). Which, currently, I don't have alot to spare.

I started working at Harry and David this month. I've done it before but this year, I've been training for different positions. 71 hours of training they are giving me!! For a job that lasts 2 months!! And, the pay is only .25 LESS than what I make at the assisted living!( You can read that as I'm making lots of money with Harry and David. Or, you can read it as I'm way underpaid at the assisted living. Which do you think is more accurate?) It is the only way we will have any $$ for xmas. So, while it's time consuming now, I'm thankful for it.

So, I will work there starting at 5 or 6a.m., work 5-6 hours then go to the assisted living and work 2pm-10pm. On Mondays and Tuesdays.  On the other days, I'll just come home and do the "Housewife Thing". Oh, except for Thursdays when I watch Jack, an 18 month old little guy that needed a daycare place.
Needless to say, I've had to print up a very large calendar and write, very plainly, "WHERE MOM IS" so the kids (and my husband!) know what job is happening what day and for how long. 

It's nuts around here!!

Add in I'm still trying to watch my calories and exercise 4-5 times a week. When I'm super busy, the calorie watching is actually easier. (It's when I have free time I tend to go all out) but the exercising is difficult. Luckily (ha!!) I burn many calories at the assisted living (From here on out, it will be called AL, okay?) going up and down many flights of stairs, many times and you can bet I count those. But, on the other days, it's hard to find the time. Of course, one thing that should be easy enough is jogging. But, after attempting it many, many times, and going to the chiropractor many, many times, we've determined that until I build up my core (I hate that term!! It sounds so .....lame) I can't run. My hips go out of joint each time. He said walking (which is easy but takes a long time to burn enough calories) or swimming (which I love but it costs money and requires pre-planning) are pretty much my choices.
For awhile, I was pretty bummed. But, then I realized I was bummed I couldn't exercise which means I've made progress, right?

Lastly, in my previous post, I told you about a dear lady at the AL that had fallen and hurt her head? Well, apparently, the reason she was dizzy and fell in the first place, was because she has a brain tumor. So very sad.
She's having good days and some not so good days. Days where she's herself and days when she's somebody else entirely.
It's going to be very,very hard to watch her decline.

That's pretty much all that's going on here. (For now!!)