Bailey, shortly after getting off the rescue transport

Guinness and Bailey

Pup Bailey with old girl, Molly

Yesterday I said goodbye to another fur baby.  My beloved black lab mix, Bailey, went over the Rainbow Bridge with some help from our vet.  I rubbed his head and ears and sobbed while I held my phone so my boys who are both in the service could "be there" too.  He died in our front yard surrounded by the people who loved him best not far from where both his pals, Molly and Guinness, also took their last breaths.  He is buried in the shade in our backyard not far from Guinness. 

For the last 20 years or so years I have had at least two dogs.  Many years I had three if you include Jeremy's dog, Jameson, who is a permanent resident in our home despite Jeremy's change of residence about 3 years ago. We are now down to just Jameson.  I'm not sure how he will cope as he has never been without another dog as a companion.  I am most worried about the Fall when we all start back to school and no one is here to hang out with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays (I have a full class load both days).

I have loved all my dogs...and granddog.  The thing is, Bailey was MY dog.  He was my constant companion from the time we picked him up off of the rescue transport.  He was a stray and almost pure black so most likely to be euthanized when he was offered to us through the rescue service we used.  He was not like other black labs.  He was not high energy, playful or interested in playing fetch with a ball or stick.  He did love to run though and play with Guinness and Jameson.  He would tear through the yard at what seemed like 90mph.  He also loved to bite back paws when rough housing which would bring his playmate to its knees and he was fun to watch when he played.  And winter?  His most favorite time of the year.  I was amazed this past winter when I knew he was slowing down that he got outside and rolled around in the snow and was almost like a puppy again.  Whatever abuse he suffered before coming to us, here he received only love and devotion from every one of us - even Emma despite his bite to her face when she irritated him one too many times as a toddler.

I spent a lot of time with Bailey.  I followed a Cesar Milan approach with him and he was well mannered, followed commands - even hand ones, and was a joy to take out on leash.  He was often extremely shy around other people and was not fond of young children - never mean, just wanted to avoid them at all cost.  I can count on one hand the amount of people outside of our house that Bailey would allow to get close to him at first meet.  He was definitely a one family dog.  Again, never mean, just not sociable with people.  He loved other dogs, however.

He followed me where ever I went.  If I was in the basement doing laundry, he was in the basement with me.  If I was out hanging laundry, he was outside with me.  If I was up in bed, he was on my side of the bed on the floor.  My shadow.  My old man.  Simply the BEST dog EVER.  He loved car rides too and we took him whenever we could until his hips and eyesight did not allow him to get in/out anymore.  And he and Guinness were my running partners for a very long time.  Two leashes, two harnesses and they could never contain their excitement so getting the harnesses on was always a feat.  I tried to run once without Bailey.  He literally took the hit from the electric fence and ran after me.  He probably would have stayed right with me, but I was always afraid he'd get hit by a car because people around here don't always slow down the way I was taught to.

Dogs teach people love.  They listen to secrets and never tell.  Their fur dries tears that no other human knows about and they are always happy to see you, get pet, be loved.  They don't ask for anything in return.  They just love.  Unconditionally.  This is why it is so hard to make the decision to end their life.  These decisions never come easy and they are filled with such sadness and questions of whether you waited to long or maybe you could have waited longer.   The vet told us yesterday that it was definitely time.  He lived a long and good life surrounded by people and dogs who loved him and cared for him.

There is a HUGE hole in my heart right now.  It's the size of a medium sized, black lab mix named Bailey...I'm not sure it will ever heal.

Perimenopause is a witch

I feel the need to write about perimenopause.  I'm here.  This is my life right now.  Honestly, I've had a few hot flashes and my periods are not every 28 days and not remotely like they have been the last 15 years or so.  My sex drive surges & wanes, but all that really isn't bothersome.  It isn't intrusive on my daily life.  It might be irritating for a day or a minute, but what really gets me is the damn emotions.  They are all over the place.  I cry at the drop of the hat.  Hell, I'm crying about crying.  Or all of a sudden I'm super bitch and I can't control myself (I really don't like her).  I can't stand the freaking roller coaster I seem to be on every.single.day.

I try to tell myself that it is a normal part of life and women have been doing this longer than I've been on this earth times a thousand.  My body is doing what it is supposed to be doing and it might go on for as long as 10 years. (No, thank you.  I'll take a zero.)  I know all the right answers, but living it is something totally different.

A week or so ago I cried looking at baby pictures of my now 17 year old son who is kind, loving and a generally good person, but I couldn't help think of how I could have been a better parent to him.  How I let him down on so many levels so many times.  It literally pains my heart just thinking about it and the tears start flowing.  What the?  Really?  If a friend told me this, I would tell her "Nonsense...he's a great kid.  You did a good job!"  But not for myself. 

This morning I cried looking at a wedding photo of my hubby and I.  Baby-faced and beautiful, the both of us.  I cry thinking how fast life has flown by and cry thinking about how lucky I am that he still rocks my world, but is it the same for him?  Do I still rock his world?  What the hell is wrong with me?  He tells me he loves me everyday.  Our sex life is fine.  Why?  Why does this happen?

I can't seem to shut off these very visceral thoughts and that is hard for me.  I grew up with the Great Wall of China around my heart and feelings.  It was something that I had to do to preserve myself.  No one, but a few, were allowed into where I kept my fragile self.  Then as I grew older (and bolder), I started to allow people in.  I realized most people are good hearted and kind which is a lovely thing, but I seem to have lost all control now.

Listen, I don't know why I am writing this except for maybe to just get it off my chest.  Especially now that I have no filter.  If you see me crying, it's probably just my whack job hormones taking a stroll.  No worries and feel free to move along, but if you get this post even a little bit, please let me know that I'm not alone in the utter craziness of perimenopause.

Christmas 2015

I don't post much anymore, but I have to say what an amazing Christmas we had this year.  As our children get older & become adults I am reminded how blessed we are to have them all together under our roof for the holidays - especially with a granddaughter who was celebrating her very first Christmas! I am also thankful for extended family and all the time we were able to share with them.  This year it didn't feel like a mad rush to open gifts, but a time to really enjoy giving & each other.  And it would be foolish not to mention the continuous laughter we shared over the last four days.  Laughing is one of my favorite things to do.  

I did not take pictures this year and I am thinking I probably should have.  I have the memories tucked away in my heart though.  Did I mention how cool it was to be a part of my granddaughters's first Christmas?  How about the coolness of watching a newly gifted movie on my laptop with #6 in her bedroom Christmas night?  Or seeing my boys enjoying each other & the new Wiiu which was a family gift...This all reminds me that life is good.

That being said, I did get the two things I specifically asked for along with other things that made me feel so incredibly spoiled!  #1 child along with his girl & #2 child and her boy gave me a new coffee mug.  It's called a hug-a-mug.  It's pottery which makes it even way cooler!  My SIL gave me a Fitbit Charge HR which was the other coveted item.  They also gave me other lovely items which enhanced the spoiling effect!  And DH overfilled my stocking as usual plus bought me things he knew would make me happy (a new drill!  Yay!) even though we don't buy each other gifts usually.

I think the most fun was watching my kids open their gifts.  They all seemed so appreciative of the presents they received which to me is huge.  I loved surprising them with things that were on their list, but they didn't think they were getting.  I also loved seeing #6's surprise when Santa left her a reply to her letter.  She questioned Santa's existence this year so I know we are at the end of the magical years which is bittersweet.  

What a lovely way to end a year and a very stressful season.  I hope 2016 is as good as 2015 has been.

Why I don't Facebook anymore

It's been such a long time and things have changed.  Don't they always?!  Silly me for always being surprised!

I stopped facebooking over a year ago.  One day I had just had enough of a certain person's "look at me" posts and shut down my account.  I took the apps off my phone and ipad and swore I would never go back.  I had numerous family & friends tell me to ignore/block/delete the person and come back to Facebook, but I held my ground.  That's not to say I didn't think of coming back.  I did.  I had marvelous plots in my head about how I could get around *that* person, but then I would think it just really wasn't worth it.

I miss my friends the most.  The friends that I met on babyzone over 10 years ago and then have met numerous times in person.  I miss my friend, H, from England.  I miss my friends, J & J, from Canada.  Heck, I miss my friend, C, from Boston and, gosh, there are just too many to count.  Our lives have changed so much over the last 10 years, but the reasons for me to love them hasn't.  

I did reactivate my account.  I have pics that I need to get because I had my hard drive crash on my laptop.  I have lurked once or twice in the last few months, but really, I still find my blood boil when I see *that* person liking everything on FB and still being "look at me...I'm so awesome".  Honestly, while the problem is definitely my own, I find no way around it, but to give up FB.  I emailed/texted some friends today.  Just to let them know I missed them and was thinking of them.  Not the same as getting daily snippets of their life, but really all I am able to have in good conscience it seems.

I can't say that I have really missed FB.  I find that it becomes an addiction for most people I know, myself included.  I also read an article lately about narcissism and how it relates to social media.  I don't want to be narcissistic.  I don't want to live under the false assumption that 500 people care that much about what I do, say or think each day.  My friends might care, but there are other channels to reach out to them and family as well.  I think I need to search and use those ways.

In the mean time, I'm going to get on with the retrieving of my pictures and then be done with FB for good.  Hopefully, my friends will still know where to find me.

What is *that*?!

So you might be wondering, "What are those things?" Or you might be saying, "Those look like recycled pants legs hanging on crutches." Well, here's the explanation.

So I've gone and broke my foot. I would love to tell you that it was while I was working out or something fantastic like that. Unfortunately, I can only tell you that I was dragging a full hamper of dirty laundry down the stairs from the upstairs hallway and managed to find a shoe on the very last stair to trip on. I heard a crack as I was falling and pretty much knew instantly that I had done something very bad. As I laid there howling not knowing what to do next, I was thankful that I wasn't alone. Jeremy and his pup were by my side inside 20 seconds. After getting up, crying, putting on some sweats, crying, brushing my hair & teeth, crying and getting a hold of my hubby who was at the dentist, I ended up in the ER. After having xrays and getting my splint and some nifty crutches, I was out the door and headed home.

I soon found out that crutches mean you cannot hold anything and walk at the same time. I had pockets in my pants, but they didn't hold much, but the home phone and my cell. And what happens when you have pants on without pockets? I mean, let's face it. My leg and foot are pretty wide now that they are splint covered. Pants choices are limited. Last night on a whim I decided to search "crutches" on Pinterest. I found a picture of a bag someone had made out of denim for crutches. The light bulb went on and so this morning after I made my way down the stairs on my butt, I went to work on making these nifty bags for MY crutches. I used pant legs cut off from some holey-kneed pants that I turned into shorts for the boys. So far they have held: my cell, the house phone, deodorant, perfume, underwear, sock (notice there is no plural there.../sigh/), bra, library book, scissors, duct tape, garbage bag (for covering foot/leg in shower), buttered toast (stored in a sandwich container) and a couple of Advil. I'd say the few hours of rudimentary sewing was a huge success!!

Now if only I could be miraculously healed..... /grin/

Shut out

Oh dear Lord. Here we go again.

I love my extended family. If my brothers or sister needed anything and I could help, I'd drop whatever I was doing and do what I could. I loved my Dad despite his alcoholism and verbal abuse (at times). Here's where it gets tricky. I honestly do not know what I feel for my Mom. I mean, I took care of her last winter along with my brother. I wasn't abusive and I really did care how she felt, what she ate...really, she was like having another child. Fast forward one year and I am really just ambivalent towards her. I don't want anything bad to happen to her (obviously), but I don't have any real feelings that make me want to call her or visit her. I took dinner over on Thanksgiving and saw her on Christmas Eve, but that's about it.

So she has been removed from her home again. Placed in the same hospital she was evaluated in before. I haven't gone to visit. I haven't even thought about it really. I've asked my brother (who has POA and Conservatorship) for updates (and gotten them when asked). Now it seems that she is being moved somewhere permanent and I found out about it on Facebook from a status my sister posted.

Here's where the "Shut Out" part comes in. I have obviously been some sort of heinous bitch of a daughter because my sister is not speaking to me. Oh wait, she will send one or two word texts if I send her one first. She also responded glibly to an email that I sent all three of my siblings, but I know there is a storm brewing underneath all of that which I've decided to ignore because I don't need the drama in my life. If she wants to spill it, she will. I'm not going to beg for a "beating". Did I mention that she is talking all about her trip to CT in March with my niece & her babies, but has yet to even mention it to me?! You know what's funny? She sends my kids crap for every holiday thinking that this is how she will be a part of their life, but when push comes to shove, my kids see her for how she behaves to me. Not much respect there, I'm afraid.

My brother, on the other hand, has yet to respond to my text of yesterday which asked him what was going on because of what my sister posted on Facebook. I texted him at 2:39pm and he most def. received the message. I know he is busy with work and his life (gasp, we all have one). I've checked my email about 3 dozen times to make sure that I am not missing an update. As of 9am this morning, NOTHING. NADA.

I do not claim to be the perfect daughter or even a good one, but I think I deserve to know what is going on. Apparently my punishment for not being able to help my mother before our NYC competition is being shut out. Here's a shout out to dysfunctional and passive aggressive families. Let's never clear the air...instead, let's ignore the person we're angry at. Yeah, that's a great plan.......

What the?

I came to the conclusion after doing a 5 mile loop walk yesterday that there are losers in my town. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, the thing I noticed the most yesterday was the sheer amount of empty beer cans along the side of the road. And they weren't just any beer cans. No. They were cheap, nasty tasting, domestic crap - Busch Lite to be exact. And the cans were not crushed or exposed to the elements for too long. In fact, most of them looked brand new. I then decided that someone is not only littering (which is terribly trashy - no pun intended), but they are driving while drinking. Two of the biggest "no-nos" in my book.

I find it very sad that littering is ok to some people - especially in the setting of our small woodsy & farm-like town. It shows such a lack of respect for the beauty of this place. And driving while drinking? That's just all kinds of stupid.

So I'm thinking of packing rubber gloves and a bag the next time I do "the loop" and picking up the junk that the asshole(s) has/have left behind. It would also be nice to catch the person or persons responsible and give them a piece of my mind, but that is unlikely to happen.

2012 - The year of being kinder

So 2012 has come and we've said goodbye to 2011 (thank goodness). All in all, I don't know many people who didn't have some sort of struggle last year including myself. I am glad for a new year and new possibilities. It is funny how a change in the year also brings a change of mindset. Renewal of strength and optimism, in my case.

I've decided that I need to be kinder. Kinder to my children, kinder to my husband and mostly, kinder to myself. While I hold my family & friends to a high mark, I hold myself even higher. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it often sets me up for disappointment - mostly with myself.

One of the ways I plan to be kinder is to watch my language and to work on yelling. This is going to be tough. I have no filter and really haven't for a long time. Perhaps that makes me some sort of bad person, but there it is, in black and white. I could make a sailor or truck driver blush. I don't really have a problem with curse words as long as they aren't used to degrade someone (and believe me...I am no saint in this area). If you stub your toe and say "F^%$", I think that is acceptable, but I think most people would not agree. Anyway, we now have a swear jar. I'm sure I'll be filling it within no time.

The other way I plan to be kinder is to exercise at least 5x per week, eat right and drink lots of water. Let's just say I stepped on the stoooopid scale this week and I was rudely slapped down to reality. I am worth being healthy and I know that exercising will a.) keep me off of blood pressure meds for the time being and b.) eventually bring me to a healthier weight. This is where being kinder/making excuses will walk a fine line. I will not beat myself up for not exercising for 2 hours every day, but I won't be ok with not exercising. This is my plan. Please kick me (or email - whichever is most handy) if you see or hear of this NOT happening. The eating part of the plan will likely just be normal and perhaps more of a portion thing. I know I don't eat poorly for the most part and will likely just try to add more veggies to our family diet. I will also get back to the "no junk food in the house" rule which really does help. As far as the water goes, it will be a struggle some days and easy others. I don't get it, but there it is.

And lastly, my daily "kinder to me" mantra will be that I cannot do it all and that's ok. Not everyone will like me and I will let people down, but I need to just do my best. I need to let go of feeling overwhelmed ALL.THE.TIME. and allow others to pull their own weight/do their own thing and remember that I can only change myself and how I react to others. I am a good person, but a work in progress, all the same.

I am thinking about keeping a journal for the year and just jotting down something each day to see my changes, etc. I am hoping to keep the positives flowing and rid myself of the negatives that hinder me from achieving all the things I know I can.

Here is to 2012 - may it be happy, healthy and I daresay, prosperous. :)

Storm Alfred...One Woman's Tale

It started off as a chance of snow. Then, as it got closer to the weekend - which was to be an anniversary weekend away from home without children which hasn't happened in over 7 years - it was turning into something bigger. By the time we left Friday afternoon for our "weekend away", it was being called a true Nor'easter.

We spent a glorious night away and then during late afternoon turned back toward CT. Alfred made his presence known as we drove south from North Conway, New Hampshire. The snow and rain, often mixing together got heavier and heavier. By the time we hit Massachusetts, we were heavily into the storm. The roads were awful and many of the other drivers apparently had left their New England common sense at home. Typical first snowfall of the season, really.

The real fun began when I tried to call home and got nothing. Not a good sign. When we finally got off the highway and headed into town, we were greeted with a poll and large tree down and blocking the road. We took an alternate route and finally got home knowing that this storm was going to be bad. Not in the amount of snow that fell, but in the heaviness of it all. Because the weather was still "fall like" and temps had not/were not terribly low, the snow was extremely heavy. As I assumed from the downed line on the state road and the lack of connection on the home phone, we had no power. Thankfully we had the generator and got that hooked up as soon as possible and then hubby tried to rest because he knew he'd be working from storm's end to whenever the snow removal was done.

So the next day dawned and with it brought hope that things would now get back to normal. My beautiful magnolia that I've photographed so many times was just crushed and seeing it, so was my heart. The two Hawthorn trees were also damaged and the big Sugar Maple within the circle of the drive, lost more than a few branches. My beautiful red plum was sideways, leaning on my truck, but not totally out of the ground and my baby Sugar Maple looked more like a weeping cherry until I shook the snow off of it. I fixed the deer fencing that protects my chicken yard from above and shoveled the snow enough for the girls to get into the yard. I also, while re-littering the nesting boxes, picked up the lone black hen who had weathered the storm outside of the coop and put her back in the coop. I took many pictures that morning because while the snow was so damaging, it was also beautiful in the early sunlight.

We, of course, were still without power. Hubby had left at 2am to start snow removal and got home around 2pm. Instead of trying to figure out dinner, we found out that there was a 99 (chain restaurant) open about 25 minutes away (kids eat free on Sundays in October) and so our pack of misfits piled in the family truckster and headed out. I didn't think to plug in our corded land line phone at this point, although it wouldn't have mattered. They didn't charge the "slicks" during this storm either (one of my beefs during Hurricane Irene a few months back). We didn't get it back until Friday afternoon. I was surprised to only have 14 messages on the voicemail.

The next day came with hubby needing to survey tree damage which there was plenty to see. There is a rhythm to running the generator here and really, it runs everything except my electric range/oven and some of the lighting/switches. As I have said before...being without electricity here is an inconvenience for us. When we run the generator, the kids can charge their hand held video games and watch TV (DVR and DVD). I can play on/recharge the laptop and even plug in the washing machine. Basically, we are prepared. We have a wood stove to heat with, a generator to run our essentials and a gas grill and microwave to cook in. Heck, I even have a fryer which I can plug in and use.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday....they all ran into each other. No power. No school. Snippets of news from the radio at 6pm while cooking dinner on the grill. I am proud to say that we ate well every single evening and I baked bread 3 times during the week, on the grill, with decent results. The thing about living so far out in the country is that you don't see anyone really. It's not a neighborhood setting. You get cut off from others and can start to feel desperately alone. It's not the lack of cable or creature comforts that got me...it was the lack of being able to be connected to people. The kids had a ball...no homework, no worries...lots of video games and relaxing. It helped that the weather was for the most part absolutely perfect. Sunny days that were seasonably warm. Good enough to play outside for a bit and cool enough that it felt good to come in. And really, who doesn't love snowball fights with all the kids who live on the Hill? Even I had a few coffee "dates" that week with a friend.

Friday....almost a full 7 days without power...I hit my wall. I unfroze homemade chicken soup for supper and decided that I would make garlic cheddar biscuits on the grill. The grill was acting stupid and low on gas so hubby changed it after they'd been on there for almost 1/2 hour (biscuits need to be baked at a relatively high temp for a short amount of time). It ended up being burnt bottom biscuits for the big batch. THEN, for the second smaller batch, it was "watch the grill start on fire because of grease and ruin everything". For some reason, the biscuit incident sent me over the edge. I was tired of cooking on the grill. I was tired of being alone. I felt miserable in my heart and in my soul and anyone around me was going to get a taste of it (yeah, yeah...PMS too). Hubby, instead of leaving me out in the cold which is what I would have done, took me to the grocery store where he pampered me by buying me something "cheesy" for comfort. (Amy's Organics Cheese Pizza Pocket Sandwich AND Cheddar and Bean burrito. Both microwaveable. No worries...I only ate the pocket sandwich!) And while this may not seem like much, he waited while I pretty much read the ingredients of EVERY.SINGLE.FROZEN.CHEESY.ITEM. I really should have just started in the organic freezer aisle. We also picked up a few odds and ends like organic butter. Did I mention toast was another comfort food? /grin/

Saturday rolls around and with it the guarantee from CL&P (*a division of the EVER GREEDY Northeast Utilities who are also partly responsible for the Northern Pass mess up in NH*) that 99% of customers would be restored by midnight on Sunday. On this day I decide to tackle a project to keep my mind from blowing another gasket. My bedroom. The big closet is vomiting out its contents, E's toys are strewn about and the broken treadmill is laying in the midst of all the chaos. Oh and I forgot to mention that the boys keep busting my one working upright vacuum so I haven't been able to vacuum the disgusting, awful, can't-wait-to-be-rid-of-it carpeting in some time. By the end of Saturday, my room is half done and my closet is back to its neat and tidy self. There is still no power, but I've invited hubby's siblings, nephews and niece over for pizza so there is at least something to look forward to and be thankful for. I'm so glad that they came...really. It was so much fun to just hang out and talk, drink wine and be a family and I daresay it took our minds off of the week that had just passed and gave us maybe some hope for what the coming week would be like.

Sunday dawns with no power, but I'm up at the crack of dawn (Good riddance to DST). I start the generator, turn on my Keurig and brew a cup of joe and start on finishing my job in the bedroom. Soon enough, the kids tell me (while the generator is on) that we have cable now. While hubby goes to help our retired neighbor start his generator, he is told that the neighbor has called CL&P and put in an emergency call. They are both diabetics and need to keep their insulin cold. Without the snow (which has melted) they cannot. Hubby and I head out to do errands and we come back to the 6 children who have now hit their wall. One locked out in bare feet, two eldest angry...good times. While we are having rational discussions (no really...they were actually rational!) with all the parties involved with the generator running, I notice my stove is blinking the time....Oh sweet JESUS, YES!!!! Off goes the generator and back on the grid. Power is restored! I am so excited that I promise cookies and cake and a yummy meal cooked INSIDE the home. I finish up the bedroom "clean and revamp" and Shrimp Scampi graces our table that evening and we all are happy.

I'm not sure I've learned much from the storm except that I really loathe the drone of small engines running. I guess I also learn that it pays to be prepared as best as you can. I am thankful that we heeded warnings back in 2005 to have an electrician come and get us generator ready. Things would have been a million times worse if we didn't. I think our only change after Alfred (and his friend Irene before him) will be to convert to a gas range so that cooking can be done inside of our house. Whether I get the Wolf range is still up in the air. /grin/

I will say this as a closing: I can't say I missed the hum of the electricity. There is something pretty special about the absolute silence that the lack of electricity leaves you with in a world that seems is always busy and moving...you just have to stop and enjoy it. And then remember to do that daily.....

Deep in thought along the road

I've started walking each day...anywhere between 4 and 5 miles. I try to get at least one hour away from the house for the most part. Sometimes it's longer and sometimes it is a bit shorter.

So this week, I've taken the blue trail a couple of times. One day I did the short part. I know this one like the back of my hand. I've taken it numerous times with the kids in tow because let's face it, walking in the woods is just good fun. One day I decided to take the other side of the trail head that I'd never been on, but knew which road it would dump me on. After walking for about 30 minutes, I realized I probably was in a bit over my head and was glad that I had grabbed a large stick to walk with. We have had a lot of rain (something like 20" over normal) and so some of the areas I was walking through were a bit wet and mucky. Probably better suited for bikes or hiking boots than sneakers, but I kept going as the trail was well marked. Finally I got to a place where it was very, very wet and I could not tell where the trail went. I kinda had an idea of where I was and decided that I needed to get off the trail and onto a road. After climbing a rather large hill and finding that I was farther than expected (although I knew exactly where I was), I trespassed on private property. This usually would not be such a big deal, but it is hunting season in these parts and I passed not only a large hunting blind, but also a tree stand. I was happy to have on my bright yellow sweatshirt and bright white bandana on my head. Needless to say, I've stayed on the road or taken the shorter part of the trail that I know instead.

Anyway, because I have been walking alone, I've thought deeply about things. It is amazing what clarity you can get when you are alone on a dirt road or in the woods with no sounds, but birds and fat squirrels scuffling around trying to make haste in winter preparations. I have stopped using an iPod because I really feel like I need to be hyper-aware of my surroundings especially while alone. It is quite humbling to look at trees thicker around than your body and know that they have been on earth longer than you and will likely survive longer than you as well. I have felt rather small and inconsequential, really. Of course, I've also seen trees, especially around the ponds, grow together. My hubby tells me that these types of trees are less strong and dangerous to power lines, but there is something comforting in seeing 5 trees mesh their trunks into one, but go their own way. Perhaps, this is a reminder for me that family is where my roots are even when I want to do my own thing? Maybe a reminder that I can still stay grounded, but continue to grow. I am quite certain, even with all my rantings and ravings about how sucky life can be sometimes, that I am not destined to be the strong tree standing alone, but more of the smaller tree meshed with others.

In any case, my walks have really been a balm for my soul this week. I'm so thankful to live where I do and have the opportunity to enjoy my surroundings each and every day. Blessed is what I truly am....even when I go and forget that.

A change in my thinking....

So I've changed my thinking about something since hurting my back. Ok, ok, let me start at the beginning.....

I started to run about 3 years ago. I have never been fast, although early on, I did have more endurance than I do now. I roughly can do a 5K in about 39 minutes. I am totally ok with this. I have lowered the time on my one mile run, but for anything longer, I just haven't worked on the endurance of keeping a faster pace. The last mile of a 5K is usually the one that gets me.

Summer came and I hurt myself in the pool. I knew I pulled something, but with regular pool use, I didn't really have any pain. We head out on vacation which is 5 hours in the car and then lots of driving once we reach our destination. By the end of the week, my back is a mess. Then the coup d'etat, I really hurt myself the Sunday before Labor Day when I try to get the stuck collar off the pool filter and wind up in the ER hours before our annual party.

After almost 2 months of back pain, lots of meds and physical therapy, I am happy to report that I feel great. I feel some residual ache sometimes if I overdo with heavy lifting, but for the most part, I feel healed. And this is where it comes to me....

Running is guaranteed to lessen your flexibility. I didn't make this up. It's the truth. I have to thank my daughter and her friend, A., both dancers, for cluing me in. After some research on my own AND talking to my physical therapist, running *does* lessen one's flexibility. DAMN.

So, I'm not running anymore. Why? Well, here's the thing, the one thing that I've always, always had was flexibility. Obviously as I've aged, some of it has gone away, but the lack of flexibility that I had when my back was hurt was overwhelming and it scared me. After talking with my physical therapist at my last visit, I think that I will walk for the cardio I need to keep my BP in check and I will pursue yoga to keep myself strong and flexible for as long as possible. So I may not be losing a whole lot of weight, but I think this is the right approach for my 40+ year old body. I want to be here for my family for a long time...and I want to be able to carry myself for as long as possible while I'm here.

I'm sick.

Yes, truly. Head cold. Allow me to whine? Wait, I don't have to ask permission because this is my blog! HAH!

This is where the whining starts.....

So head colds are generally no big deal. You sneeze some, cough a bit, you blow your nose a lot and maybe your throat tickles a little. I have never complained about a cold (well...maybe I have, but I don't recall, so that means never).

Add in my super duper sciatic nerve being pinched in my left buttock because of the curse (with no relief from ANY of the stretches that usually help) and then a bunch of lower back and butt muscles that are NOT healed yet (WTF? When are they just going to heal? I'm done already!) and you get a body that will not tolerate sneezing or coughing without the back going into major seizures of pain unless I am lying on my side, knees pulled up to my chest with a large pillow or blanket to hug and even then it's a crap shoot on whether my back seizes up.

You know what? I'm just tired of being broken. Tired of pain. Tired of having one or two good days followed by 3 or 4 awful, no good, rotten days. I'm tired of everything taking me a zillion years to accomplish because I move like a ninety year old woman. I'm tired of the hubby and kids joking that I'm really "milking" this back business. I'm just tired. Hmmm, seems to be a theme in my life, doesn't it? Sigh. If it isn't one thing it's another. Now someone pass me a tissue.

Inevitable.

My mother is now being evaluated in a geriatric behavioral health setting. We took a nice 911 ambulance ride on her 78th birthday. My sister flew up over the weekend and stayed with us. She went to see my Mom during visiting hours on Saturday evening. Becca and I went and picked her up and spent a few minutes with my Mom. She was barely coherent.

For the past few weeks I have been very angry. I snap at the kids. I snap at the hubby. I just can't seem to be happy. Last night after hubby was nice to me even though I had been a total witch, I started crying. Oh I have felt it coming. I just keep pushing it back. Last night I couldn't push it away anymore. I sobbed when hubby put on Dirty Dancing for a few minutes and then later on probably sobbed for a good half hour. Hubby finally got out of me what the issue is.

I am tired. Tired of being an adult. Oh I know...no use crying over that. It isn't apt to change. I'm tired of the role reversal. I miss my Dad. He would take care of all of this so I wouldn't have to. See...I'm just tired. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this adult business where you have to care for your parent. I also found out that my brother is about as useful as one of my younger children really which adds to the amount of weight I feel in my shoulders. I love my brother...he is smart and a good man...he just can't speak up. I had to become the mouthpiece for my mother in the ER for over 12 hours when I just wanted someone else to share the load. The longer we sat around in a hallway, the more I spoke up. I guess I should have started earlier. Perhaps we would have been out of the hospital before 1am.

I feel like if I move in the wrong direction this house of cards is all going to fall down on me. For the first time in my life I am wondering if I might need some meds to help with my mental state. For anyone who knows anything about me, that has NEVER crossed my mind. I deal. I don't take drugs. But...BUT...I don't even find joy in my everyday life anymore and add to this my back issues and the fact that I am in pain more than half the time I am awake, you might be able to see why I am tired. Laundry is bothersome. Cleaning the house is a task that physically hurts me so badly that I just don't care. Dinner? Oh yeah, well, I barely get by these days. And today, well today I have to visit my mother in the behavioral hospital by myself. I am terrified. Literally. I have PT at 11:30 and then I have to drive myself there and go in by myself. I have put it off for 2 days now. I'm afraid of the unknown. I am honestly surprised that I have not had a panic attack. I don't want to visit my mother who doesn't seem to even know what the hell is going on while other confused elderly people walk around not knowing what is going on. I'm afraid I will do something wrong. I actually don't really know what scares me the most....I am just know I'm sick over it.

I know where my fear comes from I think. When I was about 5yo, my father took me into the nursing home that my grandfather was living in (his father). Some of the elderly people in the home yelled at my Dad for bringing in a little girl. One man in particular was a rather large man with no legs in a wheelchair in the hallway as we walked down to my grandfather's room. He told my Dad that I was too young to be there. I was so frightened of him. Once we got to my grandfather's room, he was a shell of the man I knew. He was in a large high chair and he didn't speak. He was even scary. Ever since then, I have been uncomfortable (at best) with elderly people especially in a nursing home/hospital setting. My Nana (mom's mom) was everything right and good in my childhood, yet, when her dementia landed her in a nursing home, I can count on one hand how many times I went in to visit and I NEVER went alone.

I wish I had the strength to change how I feel. I wish I felt kind and loving towards elderly people. I wish that they didn't scare me to death. Maybe, just maybe, I don't like seeing the inevitable staring at me in the face with its angry, cold eyes.

And now for something completely different

Chickens!
(By the way - did you get the reference to Monty Python in my title? No? Ok, never mind then. I am not talking about dead parrots anyway.)

I know, I know. What could be blog worthy about chickens?

Well, here's the thing - I have the most friendly chickens on the earth. No really. They are super friendly. One got into my truck yesterday after I got into the driver seat. I sat there petting it while it sat on the step. I had to actually force it out so that I could shut my door and leave!

Now I know why they follow me. I've fed them. A friend from high school joked that chickens are NOT smart, but they do remember any and all times that they've been fed. I've obviously fed them - good stuff too - not just feed. No need to remind them of the countless corn cobs, watermelon rinds, tomatoes and radish greens that I've thrown their way because they SO remember.

I love that when I go down to the clothes line to hang laundry that they run to me and mill about eating bugs and other things. I have to be careful not to step on them sometimes because they are always around my feet. I talk to them. I call them "my girls". They have become pets which is probably not the best idea since someday they will stop laying...and then they will be food.

I really have become the "Crazy Chicken Lady". It doesn't scare me. Much.

As the stomach turns...

Life certainly does feel like a soap opera sometimes. I do NOT like drama. I do NOT like conflict. Both make my blood pressure rise and my anxiety flare up. Oh and for the record, apparently PAIN makes my blood pressure SKYROCKET. 142/100 at yesterday's doctor appointment....YIKES (it came way down by bedtime last night).

My mother is still at her home. 24 hour care is still in place with a new caregiver. She has been accepted onto Title 19 and the state has assessed her needs. I took her to a new GP (one who was referred by the Alzheimer's Association) and she also had another appointment with the geriatric psychiatrist. I like the new doctor ok and I'm still not a fan of the psychiatrist, but she is kind to my mother so I have to remember that it isn't about me.

I've tweaked out my back which is really getting me irritated. I cannot do any of my normal everyday chores, etc. easily. I cannot pick things off the floor, I walk like I'm 90 years old and I cannot sit for too long without being in agony. I have, however, figured out how this all started (doing leg lifts, etc. in the pool) and how it got worse (sitting in the car for hours on vacation). Of course, the coup d'etat was when I squatted down to get the darn collar off the pool filter and felt something RIP across my back. 2 hours in the ER right before our HUGE annual party for Labor Day. Thankfully I have the most AMAZING family. Thing 1 and Thing 2 stepped up to the plate and took care of getting the yard and house up to par while hubby took me to the hospital 30 minutes away. My MIL also was a huge help and came over early to offer her support. For those of you who "know" my Thing 2, I was blown away by her ability to take charge and do what needed to be done. I respect her in ways that I couldn't have if this didn't happen to me. Blessings do come from bad things.

So now we are basically on a holding pattern...Mom is settled and we're slowly getting her needs squared away. I saw my PA yesterday and he gave me new meds, a script for PT and had me go for Xrays. I have also gained 5 pounds, but under the circumstances, I am actually ok with that. There hasn't been much exercise the last month and lots of eating Haagen Dazs chocolate peanut butter ice cream before bed. /burp/

And at the end of the day? It just got worse.

No care as of 5pm today for NON PAYMENT. Right. That means I have to sit on my hands all day and try like hell to fight the urge to go save my mother.

I called and put in a referral with Elder Services after speaking with the social worker from the psychiatrists' office. After we found out there will be NO care as of today, my sister called and got into a fight with another woman at Elder Services.

After that, the same woman my sister fought with (and told that she would hold her personally responsible if anything happened to my mother) called my brother and assured him that they will make a home visit today.

Now, we just wait...and hope that the little stealing bitch stays away long enough that my mother is removed and placed where she can be safe. And then once I know she is safe, I can start dealing with the guilt that I cannot take care of her. Oh joy.

Absurdity strikes again!

Oh for goodness sake - can we ever get a fuckin' break here?

The daytime caregiver quit this morning. Many reasons...one being that my stepfather's family is manipulative, she isn't fond of the afternoon caregiver (who apparently is actually LIVING in my mother's house) and that the granddaughter who stole money from them is now starting to "take over" again.

That means that my mother's only "daily basis" advocate (and I don't think she was terribly strong) is gone. That means that my mother has no choice, but to be battered by this granddaughter, a caregiver she hates and miserable....and we know things haven't changed.

I'm done. I'm fried. As is my brother. We can't take her in. We can't put her in a home. We cannot do a fucking thing because they have all the control even though my mother's name is on the deed of the house.

I've put a call into the social worker I met with yesterday. I am contemplating calling social services and giving a report to Elderly Abuse. I just don't understand why my Mom is always the bad guy in this situation - why no one will help us protect her....

If you pray, please do. If not, good thoughts that we can figure out what our next move should be.

And the saga continues....

I had to step up again today and be the adult. That dreaded part of my life that makes me want to run crying for my blankie and stay in bed all day.

About two weeks ago, my mom became combative with her caregivers while they were trying to bathe my stepfather (she was jealous and thought they were trying to steal her guy). She then ran out of the house. "Eloped" is the word the social worker used today. A word that brings up a different scenario to me than how they use the word. Needless to say, 911 was called and my mother was brought to the hospital. She was kept there until midnight and then they finally decided to admit her for evaluation. I wasn't told until after the fact. I was told the next day, in fact, and that was by my sister. Not my brother who lives in the same state as I do. And really by then they had already sent her packing saying that she wasn't ready for "facility living", but they did give her some extra drugs. And if you've read my blog you know that I am not a fan of "let's drug them up so they don't give us any shit" when it comes to my mother and her Alzheimers.

So today I was bringing her to see a new doctor. It is a group of psychiatrists and social workers that specialize in geriatric care. Good place to be, I guess. I was a bit late in picking her up, but thankfully this new doctor is maybe 5 miles from her home and in an area that I am well familiar with. She seemed drugged. She could not hold a conversation and she could not follow simple instructions on how to get into my car. I literally had to lift her up to get her into the seat and then pretty much tug her out when we got there. I'm pretty sure if you asked her what my name was today, she couldn't tell you. Oh wait, they did ask her and she had no clue. The social worker took me and left her with a doctor. Then we came back together and another doctor came with with the social worker. They asked more questions (some of which I could not answer because I am not her POA or Conservator) and then basically told me that my mother is in the late stages of Alzheimers. Dude really? Like I didn't know this? Sigh. So we're charging medicaid and blue cross $150 for you to waste my time for 2 hours on one of the last days of summer vacation with my kids so you can tell me what I already know? Pulease.

And then they spoke of the fact that she needs some kind of stimulation during the day because that is likely why she isn't sleeping well at night. Not enough daytime stimulation and likely the current caregivers are not even aware of what should be happening with her. Adult day care. Oh terrific. Great. I want that for her too, but how the FUCK am I supposed to pay for it? Right. Did you not get the memo when I spoke to the social worker that all her care is paid for from my stepfather's lawyer? A lawyer that we did not hire and really was hired to act in my stepfather's best interest? Oh I'm sure she is a very nice lawyer, Miss Social Worker, but I've dealt with her before at my last house closing and she was a total and complete, unprofessional BITCH. So yeah, my brother will have to broach that subject. We may be able to get small grants through the state's Alzheimer's group. I have numbers and papers and my head is swimming. Oh and another appointment on September 9th.

So I bring her back to the house and her PM caregiver tells me that my mom is so much better now that she is home from the hospital. Yep. I'm sure she is, Miss Caregiver. She is loopy, can't think straight and shuffles around on her feet like an old woman. Of course, that is how you wanted her to begin with, right? Just one month ago, she was a totally different woman. And yes, she was still forgetful and couldn't always find the words she needed, but she wasn't like this.

I feel like a failure. No money, no job, no say...I cannot care for her here and I cannot care for her there. I can drive her to appointments. Big fuckin' whoop. Did I mention that I hate this part of my life?

Sitting at dance camp with the little girl

Why is it that parents think it is totally ok to let their other children run rampant in and out of dance rooms playing with things (mats, trampolines)? I swear that for the last 3 weeks, these other children have raised havoc and the mothers sit there chatting like nothing is going on and it has gotten to the point that the owner of the studio (whom is teaching & I am paying for little girl's dance camp) has asked the boys to chill out/stop running/etc. This week, she asked me to keep an eye on them as her foster daughter is among the crowd (but is not disruptive). This burns my biscuits. Why the heck should I have to watch your boys? Why shouldn't you be getting off your butts and watching them yourselves? Ugh. Empty threats don't work. Parenting does. For God's sake...TRY IT! I understand that kids are kids. I understand that sitting at dance camp for an hour and 15 minutes really isn't their thing, but then bring stuff to keep them occupied. Keep them occupied in your eyesight and stop allowing them to act like a bunch of hooligans. For the love of all that is good and right, GET OFF YOUR BUTTS!

Odd man out

Yep. That's me. I'm so tired of trying to fit in that I've decided to embrace not fitting in. As my sister says, "This is me. This is who I am." You can take me or leave me, but I am not going to feel badly.

I've decided that I'm going to focus on those people who like me and want to be with me. If you have problems with me and you can't be adult enough to speak to me then you are left with what you should be. Bitterness, anger, resentment - whatever. I've been on that side too. That's not a healthy place. Saying what is on your mind does not need to be rude although it is usually confrontational and uncomfortable. Most people do not like that, but the aftermath...the cleanse...is what makes it worth it.

I cannot make everyone happy. I cannot read minds. I will NOT feel guilty for either of these things because it is not my job. And believe me, as a mom, I feel enough guilt for things that are far more important.

I am not perfect. Far from it. But I have a heart and feelings and when someone makes it abundantly clear that I'm not important in their world, that hurts. I am forever trying to do the right thing and be the best person I can be, but sometimes I might have an off day...or hell an off three months. Here are my shoes, remember?

So yeah, I'm thankful for my friends, my family - those who know I am not perfect yet love me anyway and still see something in me that makes it worth having a relationship with me. Those are the people I am focusing on from now on because I have to believe that there is *something* good and worthwhile inside of me.