Where am I, and why am I strapped to the bed??

Hi everyone. Sorry for being non-responsive. Not sure where to start.

Mom is getting better (for those who haven't heard, she had a stroke on December 8th)

Dad is wiped out

Logan is getting over a cold. Now I have the cold.

My husband sortof has it.

I need to finish de-cluttering my parent's place in preparation for when Mom goes home. I have been paying my folk's bills (with their money, not mine) as Mom was the one who handled all of that, but Dad isn't up to it. He's still working, and that's keeping him going. But it's been a long time since he had to handle bills. And he's stressed out and so tired. And he's 86, of course. Considering everything, he's handling things, and holding up, really well.

Mom wants to come home so bad she can't see straight. She is doing well, but doesn't always realize how many skills she has lost and needs to relearn. She should be able to come home in about 1.5 weeks, and continue the rest of her therapy from home.

I'm currently not on speaking terms with my Sister. That's mostly my fault, but she owes my husband both an "apology" and a "thankyou", and I really need her to give me some space, so I've been happy to just enjoy the silence. She was trying to handle things from her end (Nevada), and she was just one cook too many. And sometimes she can be someone I really don't like. But I still love her.

If she posts the text of the scathing email I sent her, yeah, I really said all of that. Some of it I meant, as there are alot of things she and I haven't dealt with yet, and some of it was me just completely wigging out from the pressure.

Haven't gotten my folks to sign the wills that my Mom had me go online to prepare. A corrected will was sent to my folks place, Dad thought it was junk mail, and tore it up! He put the part with his name in the burn box, and the part w/o in the recycle bin. I was just lucky I found it in both places. I taped it up and photocopied it and Mom's will, and gave them the copies. I'm not sure Mom can sign hers yet (she's re-learning reading, writing, and math), and I think Dad just let the signing of his will go, even though there was a good opportunity a week or so ago, with 2 friends who could have been witnesses. So, all that insane rush for nothing. :P And I hate to have to PUSH him, or her. They are already really pushed. Me too.

Mom's wearing Dad out. I can't convince Mom to let Dad have one day a week off from going to see her. I know she's lonely, but it takes alot of energy to deal with her. He works Wednesday and Thursday evenings for 4 hours each, and Saturday and Sunday mornings thru early afternoon, for 8 hours each. He gets Monday, Tuesday, and Friday off. I just think he should get Friday to SLEEP ALL DAY IF HE WANTS TO, but Mom... well, she misses him so much, and... it's a long story. :P

I'm not sure how much of this was Dad being worn out, how much was Dad being 86, and/or how much of this was maybe Dad forgetting to eat and having low blood sugar, but Dad got confused a couple weeks ago, and after bringing home groceries, managed to lock himself out of their home.

And then he convinced himself that he had left his car/home keys at the grocery store.

Mom had called him, asking him to come see her. I spoke with him too, I think. And in the confusion, when trying to leave the house to go see Mom, he went outside without his keys. And then started walking back to the store to find those keys!

He slipped on some loose gravel as he was exhausted, skinned some skin off his head, and was rescued by some people and taken to the management office of the place they live in. I was called in. I searched Dad's car for the keys (he had left his car door unlocked), and found...

... THE WALLET THAT DAD THOUGHT HE HAD LOST IN THE HOSPITAL CAFETERIA, BACK IN AUGUST, WHEN MOM WAS IN THE HOSPITAL FOR 3 SEPARATE TIMES. It was stuck to the floor under the drivers seat by some candy.

I took it out, peeled the candy off, went inside their home, found Dad's keys where he'd left them, went back outside and drove to the management office. I then drove Dad back to their home, and sat with him and filled out some documentation for the convalescent home Mom was in. [The documentation was just for admitting her, but hadn't been filled in for almost 2 weeks from when she'd arrived at the nursing home. Several family members were afraid it was a trick to make it that she'd be stuck in the nursing home, i.e., admitted for life.]

Mom is now at a more aggressive convalescent home. They spend many more hours per day training her. It's wearing her out, but she needs it before she goes home.

I've just been really drained. I pay their bills, I found a new doctor for them when their doctor announced last minute he was retiring, I "rescue" them from various mistakes age, stress, and exhaustion are causing them to make... As to the bills, I had to do "bill discovery" as Dad was so stressed out he was misplacing the mail. "Hello, electric company? Yes, do you guys have an account with my parents, what do they owe you, and when is it due?" I spent much of last Saturday trying to "find the floor" in their place, decluttering like a mad fool. I would have gone back for more on Sunday, but my stomach had other plans.

I picked up their medical files from the doctor that retired, and paid their final bill with that doctor, and am holding on to the files until they see their new doctor in February.

I stayed home sick today. There was stuff I should have done for my folks, and for us, but I so badly needed to just chill that me and my cold went to bed after my Father-in-Law picked Logan up and I emailed work to let them know I was sick. I stayed there for several hours, in the happy oblivion that is sleep.

*SIGH*

Everytime my cell phone rings, I groan because I'm afraid it's my Mom with another request.

Ok, so other than all of that, everything's great, lol!

Anyway, Mom is going to get to go home soon. I need to hurry up and get her enrolled in Medi-cal. Hoping they qualify, as then someone can come to their house, in between the home-therapists that will visit, and help them out. 'Cause I need to work, and if I try to be there with Mom while Dad is at work on Wednesday and Thursday evenings, I'm going to break into several tiny pieces. I just don't have enough of myself to spread around. Which is pretty impressive considering how fat my ass is.

I also can't deal with taking care of Mom on the weekends while Dad is working. I mean, I'd never see my husband or my son, at that rate.

And really, when Dad is home, Dad can't physically take care of her if she's having problems taking care of herself. Dad can't bathe her. Dad can't lift her if she falls. And I can't quit my job and become her full-time caregiver, anyway. But she could get some help if she qualifies for Medi-cal.

And... and... that's not even everything, lol!

I... have... lost... what... little... mind... I... have... left.

My husband, my toddler, and my job are keeping me sane.

My husband has been incredibly awesome through all of this. And his Dad has been incredibly awesome. I don't know what I would do without those two.

Anyway, that's the current situation.

I'm just glad that Dad is still up to working at his part-time job. It's keeping him alive. And I'm glad Mom will be coming home soon. Although I know it doesn't mean I'm off the hook. Until she can really do math and write checks and read bills, that's still my bailiwick. But Mom's sure that her coming home will make life much easier on me.

Heh.

Heh-heh.

Heh-hah-heh-hah-heh-hah-hah-hah!!!!!!!!

*SIGH*

Ok, where's my Xanax??

Patio Floor 1, Logan 0

Logan tripped on the rail for the sliding glass door and did a 360 onto the patio floor. :P During his tumbling "experiment", he unfortunately used his nose as a pivot point.

His nose didn't fare so well.

The dot on his forehead isn't part of it... it's just food he rubbed off his hands and onto his forehead.

Yet Another Fire

So, we had another fire maybe a mile from our house.

The order was reversed from what we've become used to. Normally, fire happens, ash falls on power lines, power goes out. In this case, power line fell, power went out, downed power line caused fire. I don't know what brought the power line down.

I think I've lost count the number of times I've had to feed Logan IN THE DARK, WHEN THERE WAS A FIRE SOMEWHERE NEARBY. And it was strangely hot again, even though it's January. [The Gap Fire was in July. The combination of smoke outside and an unbearably hot house from the heat of the day, and no power to even run fans, was unbearable. The Tea House Fire was in early December, I think, and didn't actually affect us, but of course made us really nervous. And it managed to destroy alot of people's houses. :( ]

Anyway, I'm becoming old hand at feeding Logan and changing Logan in a blackout.

Man, the news sucked for this one. I tried various news channels on the radio, but couldn't get anything about the current power outage or fire. Didn't know if we might have to evacuate, or what the heck was going on. Sat there, changing radio channels, squinting in the dim light of candles and a flashlight as I tried to get the spoon into Logan's mouth.

My husband and I both have headlamps for hiking at night. They have become very useful during these fire-blackouts. My husband, after noting how we've had to feed Logan way too many times during blackouts, that Logan deserved his own headlamp now.

We had a load of work clothes in the dryer, sopping wet. The blackout lasted just long enough for me to think I might need to hang a clothesline in front of the fireplace. But it was back on at 9:30pm in our area (8:30pm across the highway from us)... 2 hours after it had gone off.

So I'm hurriedly getting loads of laundry done. I feel like I'm 2 hours behind on a Sunday night. :P

Just glad I didn't have to bathe Logan by flashlight. :P

Ok, goodnight everyone. Be safe. Godspeed.

Oh, almost forgot. Nothing like a blackout to make you take all your toys and ensure they are in their chargers once the power is back on. ;)

Lessons in Love

My son is sick. And I think I've caught it.

Last week he started having a cough, then a runny nose, then post nasal drip I think. [You try looking into the throat of a stubborn, strong, uncooperative 13 month old. I figure post-nasal drip was involved as he would sniffle while sleeping and then have a coughing fit that sounded to me like some of the snot went down his throat.]

Sunday night he puked up the little bit of formula he was able to drink. Monday morning, I got 4 ounces of formula into the little guy, and he promptly puked that up at the doctor's office. So, the rest of Monday, and all of Tuesday, the poor little guy lived on nothing but Pedialyte.

Monday night he could not get comfortable when I tried to rock him to sleep. He was coughing, dry-heaving, and basically very miserable. He would start to get comfortable, fall asleep for maybe 5 minutes, and then a coughing fit would wake him up. On top of that, with no food in his stomach and trying to drink fluid with a clogged nose, he had swallowed alot of air and was having gas pains which would also wake him up.

If I tried to put him down in his crib when asleep, he would wake up and cry. If I tried to do it when awake, after having had a wrestling match with him in my arms, obviously totally uncomfortable there due to gas pains, he would cry. Either way, he'd want to be picked back up.

I tried explaining to him that there was just no way that I was going to be as comfortable for him as a bed, but all he knew was he felt like crap, was often in pain, and wanted to be held. Even if that meant he was being held in my arms while he flung himself all over the place, as if attempting to get me to drop him.

I started getting angry. Not at him, but at God, and at the virus. I mean he was just a little kid, and he was suffering so much. And the times he got to sleep, he would be asleep for about 3 to 10 minutes, and then wake up. It started to feel like I was being teased! After maybe the 5th time, I was all like, "ah, come on!!!" Again, I wasn't mad at Logan but at the bug that was doing this to him. Or at God, I guess.

I failed the Job test.

Good thing God is forgiving.

I was praying that Logan would get better and be able to sleep. At first it was for his sake, but as I got more and more exhausted, it started selfishly being more for my sake. :P Some mother I am.

Anyway...

Either Tuesday or just today the following hit me: this was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I knew a little 3 year old girl named Katie who has liver cancer, and suffers terribly. I knew that her Sister, Parents, and the rest of her family got very little sleep on the bad nights. And that the bad nights were numerous, due to the illness and the chemo. And, like me, they still had to work in the mornning. Unlike me, they couldn't take days off if they weren't feeling well or felt too tired... like I took Tuesday off as I was exhausted and coming down with Logan's bug. They need all the money they can get to pay for Katie's treatment. I mean, there's no way in hell that if there's a treatment that could save her, that they were going to avoid it because of their budget.

So, I'm a moron. I'm fighting off a bug, Logan is fighting off a bug. But Logan doesn't have cancer, and I can afford to take a day off if I need to... although not too many days off, as Logan and I have both been sick on and off all December. [Ah, December and winter in general: 'tis the season to be sneezing.]

But anyway, this has been a lesson in love. A lesson in humility. A lesson in counting my blessings. A lesson in not feeling so sorry for myself.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go cough up a lung.

Oh, I forgot to add one thing. Realizing the mercilessness of the bug Logan was fighting, I started wishing there was some way I could cause it pain. Some way I could find it, it's parents, it's siblings, it's children, and it's friends and other family, and kill them all slowly... with immense pain.

I started to fantasize that once I got to the vomiting stage, maybe I could take the vomit and heat it up over the stove to painfully torture and kill any of the virus that I puked up. Yes, I was starting to get a, uhm, little strange.

Feeling helpless does weird things to you sometimes.

Asses of Fire

It's 4:57am. The Friday after Thanksgiving.

If I have the runs one more time, I think I will implode. :P

I don't think it's a food bug. I think I just ate alot of stuff I really shouldn't have.

Still, other than the runs, Thanksgiving was quite nice. :)

It was my baby boy Logan's first Thanksgiving. He turns 1 year old on December 5th.

My husband and Logan and I met my parents at the Frog Bar and Grill at 1:30pm for a Thanksgiving brunch. My Dad had to be at work at 4:30pm, so eating a brunch worked out quite well. And the weather was lovely, in spite of all the rain and fear of flooding after all the fires in the area. The sun came out, expansive blue skies, and everything.

Logan got to have scrambled eggs and pieces of a croissant. And of course cheerios. Can't have a meal w/o cheerios anymore. ;) I also offered him pieces of a cantaloupe and pieces of a sweet potato, but I don't think he ate any of it.

My Father-in-Law spent Thanksgiving with my husband's brother, so he missed out on our fun, but got to enjoy time with his great-grand-kids. I think he may have wished he could be in 2 places at the same time, as he seemed a little bummed about missing Logan's first Thanksgiving. But he still had an awesome time with the rest of the family. :)

What did I eat... what did this to me. Let's see. Pre-brunch was a Jimmy Dean breakfast croissant with sausage, egg, and cheese. But not all of it. And some of Logan's cheerios. And some green tea.

Brunch was 2 orange juices, 2 champagnes, croissant, sweet potato, stuffing, cucumber, bell pepper salad, smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, strawberries, cantaloupe, and I think that's it. All small portions: it all fit on one plate, except the eggs were on a separate plate that I then used to feed Logan from. Well, the champagne probably dehydrated me.

Then when we went home, after some tea, and after a bottle (for Logan, not for me, LOL), went down with Logan for a nap at 4:30pm. Woke up at 6pm. Fed Logan. And ate... the wrong thing. Obviously. Chips and hot cheese dip. Lots. And a strawberry frozen fruit bar. And chocolate milk. And a turkey/cheese/bread sandwich husband called a "Royal George", but now he's not so sure of the name. Normally also includes mayo, but I included mustard instead.

Did have some of Logan's banana, and more of his Cheerios. But that was the only healthy thing this Thanksgiving evening.

Anyway, something I ate was the wrong thing.

So far, poor Logan is having the opposite problem: he is pooing less than normal. It takes time for a baby's system to become used to new food. Really, to solid food in general. It's just a new way of digesting. I think he's just overwhelmed by the whole "chewing" experience, LOL. Ok, "gumming" -- he only has 8 teeth, and they are all incisors. However, judging by the drooling, chewing on anything that's immobile and not nailed down, and general grumpiness, he's definitely trying to cut a tooth.

Well, campers, it's after 5am. My intestines feel like they may be done for the moment. And the Tylenol PM is winning over my feeling like crap from the runs, so I think I can finally get some sleep. At least until Logan wakes up, LOL. ;)

I think Friday is going to be an oat-meal and banana and Cheerios kind of day.

Ok, I was going to post this before I crawled back into bed at 5am, but didn't do it. Doing it now.