car buying: babysitting connections has its benefits

NEW-TO-US-CAR:  Mini's accident was on a Wednesday evening. With my dad's car borrowed and the gray in the shop getting brakes, we only had two working cars. We needed a car. Really we could've used another 3 or 4 cars, but who's counting? Friday night, Lad looked at the website for all of the dealerships 'connected-by-blood' (or sparkplugs) to his. We found a few options. 

GW has rips in the seats. Red, RIP, had
a troll living in the wall that made a loud
 ticking noise whenever it felt like it.
This is seal. Look at that middle seat.
 She's a beaut. Leather seats
 - a first for everything. 

He was gonna drive to a distant, but related dealership and snag a used Honda minivan from '19 with 36,000 miles on it the next morning. Then, he'd pick me up in the car (how's that for service), drive me to his nearby dealership and we'd get 'er done. Then I could drive home in the newby. Coach works occasionally on a Saturday, and this was one of them, so I was on my own. We weren't financing, just paying cash. We were hoping for a fast transaction. 

After my workout on Saturday, I decided to scrub the kitchen. Top to bottom. I should've been writing, but sometimes I want a clean kitchen. Why should the kitchen only be clean and uncluttered when we're having a grad party?

Lad called. He was driving the navy minivan, but he'd gotten word that he could show me the car at his dealership, but that I couldn't drive away with it. It needed to be sold out of that building, certified this and that. I couldn't technically buy it that day. 

I switched gears quickly from my OH SHOOT mode to my COME NOW, LET'S SEE WHAT WE CAN DO ABOUT THIS mode. 

You all know that I used to babysit for the family that owns the dealerships where Lad works, right? As in, I was 12 when good fortune struck. They moved into my neighborhood. Mom showed up at their door with a plate full of cookies, a welcoming smile, and an introduction:  SO, I HAVE 3 DAUGHTERS WHO BABYSIT. THE OLDER ONES ARE A LITTLE BUSY WITH THEIR 'FAMILIES', BUT ERNIE IS EXCITED TO GET STARTED.

They were my first sitting gig, and I was obsessed. When we met, they had 3 kids. Eventually they ended up with 8. I vividly remember the specific days when each of the younger 5 were born. 

The owner of the Honda dealership was a year old when I started babysitting for him. I called him Baby Face and he called me Onion. If you look for him in my phone contacts, he's naturally under 'Baby Face.' Being glossed over by my family of origin was of little consequence once Baby Face started crying and clinging to me for dear life when I tried to go home after a babysitting job. The feeling was mutual. Can you say self-esteem builder? 

I texted Baby Face. HEY, IS IT TRUE I CAN'T BUY THE NAVY MINIVAN TODAY? WE ARE HURTING FOR A CAR SINCE MINI'S ACCIDENT. LET ME KNOW IF THERE'S ANY WAY AROUND HAVING TO GO TO BUMBLE TO PURCHASE IT.

A moment later my phone rang.

Baby Face:  They didn't tell me it was a woman I've known my entire life. They just said an employee's mom wants to look at that car. Shit, you can drive it home today. We'll have Lad throw some DL plates on it and do the paperwork at your house. He can bring in your check Monday. 

Later he told Lad to throw in an extended warranty or something, since I kept him alive for years. I knew there was a reason he was my favorite. 

I never even drove the minivan prior to purchasing it. Lad picked me up in it, and gathered some paperwork at his office and about an hour later I drove it home. It's nice. Fancy-shmancy. Hell, I was sold at "THE RADIO WORKS." 

There's a command center that I will probably never quite understand how to use. I think it does everything except start the dishwasher remotely. Plus we've never been part of the leather seat club. As a bonus, it has 8 seats. We won't have to bring two cars or the GW/church bus when we want to all attend a family function together. I'm excited to leave the little troll that lived in the back right side panel of the destroyed red car at the lot. I would like to have an autopsy to determine what the heck caused that thumping noise even when the car was turned off, but I'm just gonna have to wonder. 

Best of all, the car is clean. Really clean. Not gonna lie, I'd be OK living in it. How long will the new-car-clean last? Well, I'm not holding my breath. In case you are wondering, we haven't let Mini drive it yet. Did you know that a week before her accident we were discussing her driving habits and she said:  I'M A GOOD DRIVER. I DRIVE AGGRESSIVELY. 

Well, we tried to explain that she was supposed to drive DEFENSIVELY. How did she miss that day of drivers ed? It happens to be the THEME of the entire program. 

Lad pointed out that when we planned to trade the red car in in July, we wouldn't have gotten much for it because it was never gonna pass emissions. Since it was in an accident, the insurance company won't know that the emissions test was an issue. He thinks we'll get more for it from insurance, than we would've gotten when trading it in.

Mini realized this and said OH, YOU'RE WELCOME. Of course she did. 

We are fortunate to have the funds set aside. This is a terrible time to purchase a car. It was inevitable, but I would prefer not to have done it this way. When Mini was still sobbing in the kitchen a few hours after the accident, I let my kid-who-doesn't-hug know that it was time for a hug. I hugged her for a long time and told her:  CARS CAN BE REPLACED. I CANNOT IMAGINE LIFE WITHOUT YOU IN IT. 

I had the joy of going to
the lot to get a few
things we forgot from the
smashed up minivan. Yikes. 

Then it morphed into a I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING moment, because goodness this was scary and I was emotional. 

After our embrace, I went upstairs to do laundry, and take some deep breaths. A moment later Mini called upstairs. MOM, I FORGOT I WAS SUPPOSED TO BABYSIT TONIGHT. I'M LATE, SHE JUST TEXTED ME. CAN YOU DROP  ME OFF? CAN YOU TELL I WAS CRYING. (sort of, understatement). 

I dropped her off. Then, Curly wanted to go mini-golfing with her friends. I realized Mini never ate dinner, I texted her that I was brining her dinner on my way to mini-golf. I dropped off and picked up Ed from working out in the opposite direction. 

Too bad I'm not in school, because my WHAT DID YOU DO THIS SUMMER assignment would be a piece of cake.

I DROVE. 

 * 8/16/22 update:  We bought the navy (shall we call her 'seal' as in navy seal, or do you have other suggestions?) minivan a few days after the accident in June, so I drafted this awhile ago.  Mini has driven it. But not till mid June. Ed almost missed his train downtown one morning because Mini was driving him (in the kid car). He was like SHE WAS SO SLOW. Praise the Lord for small favors. I drove to GA in Seal and never could figure out how to get the google maps to show on that dang screen. It's been with us a few months now and it's still mostly clean. How long till you think they leave a mess in it?

I'll describe the battle with insurance another day (and Thermador's microwave nonsense), but if you'd like to take a stab in the comments at how much Allstate is offering us - be my guest. 175K miles on it. 2013 Dodge. Let's leave things here at rainbows and sunshine and a car that isn't messy YET. Oh, also a few weeks ago, Lad finally taught me how to work command central. It's incredibly cool. Would've been nice to have that up and running for my July 5th drive to Georgia. 

EXHAUSTED: the background, the underlying issues, and the current climate

I'm 51 years old and I'm annoyed with myself that I let my sisters bother me. I guess it isn't their fault. Not sure that it matters at this point. The division between my two older sisters and myself has gone on for so long  that they now consider themselves a twosome, a separate entity. 

I can't crack the code.

GROUNDWORK 

It started so long ago, my parents laid the groundwork. Ann and Marie are two years apart, almost to the day. I'm 2 years and 4 months younger than Marie. The way we were always grouped , you'd think decades separated us. My brother, Pat, is less than a year younger than me, and Mike is 18 mos. younger than him. My parents ALWAYS lumped me in with the boys. 

Our one local girl cousin - born smack dab between my two sisters. The 3 of them went to see Grease together. I wasn't allowed. They did sleepovers together, I was too young. They roller skated together - not me. You catch my drift. 

Add to that scenario that I'm different than my sisters. I tend to speak up - even speak my mind. My sisters follow the rules. I'm not quite as by-the-book as they are. They are closed minded. I'm not perfect, but I usually have more of an open mind than they do. If someone has pushed my buttons I prefer to clear the air. They'd rather stew about irritations and complain to one another than confront someone.

LAD:  COMMON GROUND

When Lad arrived, both sisters had little guys. At last, something in common. I was part of the crowd. They each would pop out another girl and I'd birth another boy. We did things together for awhile, but Ann still barked at me at the drop of a hat and Marie was out of the country for years. Eventually they planned vacations together and even borrowed the Great White for their ND tailgate. 

I babysat for Ann's kids and Lad came with me. Coach was a full time student and we needed the money. Ann worked part time as a nurse and would only agree to a shift if she had a family member to watch her kids, which was usually me. It seemed like the perfect fit. Each and every time Ann came home from working a shift, she would say, "So, do you want me to pay you then?" She paid me $7/hour (late 90s), so I was hardly robbing her blind. She and her then husband were VERY well off. 

How was I supposed to answer that question? "Um, yes please pay me." Humiliating. 

ENTER MY MOM 

The hardest thing has been how they plan things with our mom, and don't include me. 

 In 2010, the two of them went on a shopping weekend in the city while I was helping my dad travel to Gettysburg in the Great White with 7 of my sisters' kids and my 3 boys. 

They go to dinner with my mom, or manage to spend our mom's birthday with her and I'm not included. They don't even try to hide their exclusivity, or act like they are doing something hurtful. My feelings don't count.  

When I'm excluded from adult gatherings, particularly when my mom is involved, it's because Ann has never really liked me. She was mean to me growing up - she preferred everyone to act prim and proper. I don't do prim and proper. She was never corrected. As a parent, I cannot understand this. If my kids sneer at one another, Coach and I urge them to try harder, accept differences, etc. 

I suspect that during her divorce, Ann requested that I not tag along, and then the three of them decided that if they got away with it once -they could always get away with it. The entire family works hard not to upset Ann. The mentality:  'she's divorced, so she's upset'. They do what they can to please her. 

HOW DO I MOVE ON? 

My middle child syndrome is so pronounced and I wish it wasn't. Really. I want to get over it. Move on. In my family of origin, I've been over-looked, left-out, and glossed over FOREVER. 

I see a therapist. It doesn't help. My kids and Coach see things clearly, which does help, but they can't solve it. The hurt lingers.  

Someone told me recently that Marie is never going to change. (neither is Ann, but she is so controlling that I gave up on her years ago) As you know, now that my folks are older, both sisters monopolize them. I've made a point to pop over to my parents' house. If Coach and I go for a walk and Ann's car is there, I feel like I should be there too. It's not normal, and I dislike the 'what I am missing' feeling. 

On the way to Omaha to drop Tank at school, I asked him to read my next chapter. He opened my laptop and was more interested in reading a file titled:  To Marie.

I explained:  I probably won't send it, but I occasionally write in it. Tank read it and asked why I hadn't mentioned how hurt I am that they went to see Elton John together last week, etc. (I saw that on FB). I really wasn't bummed that they didn't ask me to go to Elton John. That's  not the point. Most of what I vent about it my writing 'To Marie' is the emotional immaturity they display when talking behind my back and not addressing a thing that upsets them to my face. 

I pointed out that asking them to include me in stuff the two of them do is silly. I don't enjoy spending time with them. That ship has sailed. While I still think I'm better off without trying to be included, the fact that they do things with my mom without me is hurtful.

As far as I know, their biggest issue with me is that I wrote a funny story about a thing that happened over 35 years ago. Then they griped about it and my nephew told Lad. *I did ask each of them to speak to me about what upset them, and neither of them would* 

The funny thing? They've always considered our family 'close knit'. They hold our family of origin up as if we are the model everyone should try to emulate. Funny because Coach and I bend over backwards to not repeat the favoritism and exclusivity. 

Cousins had a blast playing
slammo in Wisc.

GUILTY

Remember how I sort of dreaded the weekend in June with my side? Before the big dinner at a fancy old mansion, Coach and I and our kids attended mass. We ended up getting to the restaurant before anyone else because it made no sense to go back to the hotel for 15 minutes when we were already dressed. 

The room was arranged with lots of various tables. Mini chose a table for all the young adult girl cousins. We mapped out where the boy cousin groups would fit, etc. The table in the middle of the room seemed to make the most sense for my folks. There were 6 chairs. We put my folks in the loveseat bench at one end. I sat next to the bench with Coach. Ann and Pat sat in the remaining chairs. (Aunt Leprechaun stayed home with a kid who'd been exposed to covid).

Oops - it was Mom's 80th. Glad I
wasn't in charge of ordering the cake. 

I felt guilty all night. I felt like Marie probably wanted to sit at the table with my parents, like I didn't deserve to sit there. I wasn't worthy. Marie and her hubby/Mike and his wife were alongside this table at two tables for two. 

Isn't that awful? To feel bad for sitting with my parents? My sisters are very robotic and they didn't send me cards for my anniversary last week - I think this is a first in 26 years. Hey, so long as Coach remembers our anniversary that's all that matters. They've sent an unspoken message though. 

My fam leaving the restaurant
 that was on the water. 

*Another story but to be transparent, I'm adding it:  I texted Marie a few weeks ago, days after Mom got out of the hospital. I asked her to *please* urge Dad to click over when someone is clicking in on the other line. He'd emailed me asking me if one of the kids could sit with Mom while he ran to the bank. I called him to discuss what time, etc. I called, and called, and called. No answer. I had many balls in the air and I had a small window that would work. Life stood still at our house while we waited. The window was closing. 

Marie was annoyed and snappy. She was confident that it hadn't been her. She'd only spoken to him briefly. She wondered how she was supposed to know that someone was calling on the other line. *I refrained from telling her to start by removing her head from her ass*. I can hear when someone is clicking in, there's a hiccup in the connection. 

After I drove Mom to PT that day, I took a photo of Marie's number on the caller ID on my parents' phone - it had been her. I texted her the photo, saying OOPS, I GUESS IT WAS YOU. She snarled something back to me. 

I don't think it's wrong to say 'please' do this or that in order to make things easier for everyone who is trying to help our parents. She is used to being in charge - or thinking she is, so she didn't like that. She asked me to text her to let her know how PT went that day. I texted right back, SHE'LL DO FINE. *I refrained from telling her 'get a hobby'.* 

++++++++++++++++

What to do? And I apologize if you've heard about this too many times. I'm exhausted by it myself, and I imagine all of you are too. I want to shed the nonsense and stop the hurt. 

If you are speechless, you can take a guess at approximately how many single socks I unearthed in the boys' room as part of the check out procedures. Yes, I've been begging people all summer to dig out any unmatched socks in their rooms. No, no one obliged. Shock. 

Ah, summer, signs & college kid check-out procedures

 AH, SUMMER

Sunday, Coach and I took Curly to lunch as part of our ongoing 2-meals-out-per-kid-solo-a-year effort. Afterwards, the three of us went to the pool for a bit.

Before that (but after my most frustrating ever day):  Last week on Thursday (the day Reg's extended EEG study ended) I hosted the moms and tots that I will sit for this school year. Sunday I went for my every-other day 4.5 mile slow-ass run. I spent over an hour at my folks' house while Dad went to mass. I came home and deep cleaned my bathroom, did laundry, and got some writing done. That's when Coach and I treated Curly to lunch.

It felt good to relax. 

This was the day that we ended up corralling all of the kids and going to dinner - eating lunch and dinner out? We don't even do that when we are on vacation. It wasn't ideal but when we started to feel like people would be home for dinner - we were like, OK, let's do this in case this is our last chance before everyone leaves for college.  

I took videos of Curly and Coach playing volleyball in the pool. The background music in a few clips was awesome. I'm sharing all 3 clips. The first one I'm posting has crappy background music, but it's the funniest one. I was sitting right under the pool speaker. 

  

Coach recovered nicely from getting spiked on, and I was glad to have taken a few minutes of videos. 

HIGH SCHOOL 

We are sticking with the local high school. We found out Reg couldn't get the waiver after all. Days after we decided this, we learned that the girls' coach left to coach at a nearby college. Reg then had his grand mal seizure Aug 1st and we found out he can't drive for 6 months. (can you hear me softly sobbing in the background as we send our other driving children to college, Reg is sobbing softly too, but in true Reg fashion, he's handing it all quite well). 

Coach and I looked at each other and said, THANK GOD WE DIDN'T SEND THEM TO A DISTANT SCHOOL THAT HE WOULD'VE HAD TO DRIVE TO. That would've been a disaster. Then the night after we were in the ER all day, the boys' coach announced that he was leaving the high school for a different job. 

Signs, they were cropping up everywhere. We'd already made our decision, but with any difficult decision you wonder if you've made the right one - and we are convinced now. 

WHAT'S HER NAME? 

We broke the bank and walked to get ice cream after our dinner out Sunday night, where I ran into a woman from my writing group. She hasn't been able to attend for a few months, but I KNOW her . . . why then, could I not remember her name? So embarrassing. It was on the tip of my tongue. When we got home I called to the kids AMBER - HER NAME IS AMBER!

On the way to dinner in the new minivan that seats all 8 of us, (that story is coming soon . . . I already wrote it), I made a few announcements. 

Me:  Those of you heading off to college, there will be check out procedures. No one leaves without me checking you out. 

* Here I was interrupted for apparently "using the voice"

Me (trying to adjust my voice to sound normal and not angry because I've been burned by college kids before and refuse to be burned again):  Anyway, think of it like you would if you were trying to get your security deposit back. Your rooms will not be trashed. The room will appear as if you were never even there. You will not leave unless I approve the state of the room. I suggest that you start 72 hours before you want to leave, because there will be conditions to meet. 

I will sign off here on that wishful-thinking note. 

What do you do when you can't remember someone's name? Admit it, or mumble something inaudible/fake cough, or carry-on like you didn't just forget his/her name?  Also, I should mention that Coach and I are celebrating 26 years of wedded bliss today, and I managed not to steal his contact lenses. 

bank account set-up woes, freight trains, pricey inconclusive tests: cloudy with a chance of losing it

*I drafted this before Reg's seizure on Monday, August 1st  - but I feel like it describes so much of the emotional roller coaster I've been on, I'm sharing it anyway. It might even make you laugh . . . 

Curly and I got home from visiting Nana at the hospital followed by NOT dropping Curly off at the golf course because someone said not to bother. I suspected that that someone didn't know enough to give Curly advise, but I was too distracted to figure it out. 

I told Curly to vacuum and get things done and maybe we could go to the pool when I returned with Mini after buying her a laptop for college. I thought Reg was gonna be my 'cabana' boy - I had no tasks for him to do linked to an actual pool, but I liked the sound of it, plus it's summer. 

Reg was home, since basketball just ended and he couldn't caddy because he was doing the 3 day extended EEG test to see if he has a seizure disorder. I found out when the woman came to connect his head to a bunch of electrodes that he  couldn't run a vacuum while hooked up. Dang. So much for my vacuuming cabana boy. 

This was Tuesday morning and Reg still hadn't had a 'deja vous' episode. The stress of trying to figure out how to induce an episode was irritating me knowing that if we didn't get an episode recorded, our $2,000 after insurance money would be wasted. 

Mini walked in right behind us from the poop-ified dog-sitting house and asked if she had time to shower. I JUST NEED LIKE 15 MINUTES. I really didn't want to wait, but I told her to hurry. Why had she not showered when she was waiting to meet me after she stole Coach's car? *Sigh.* 

I felt a little better when I went back over to my desk and went through the pile of birth certificates AGAIN. Oh, lookie, lookie. Curly's birth certificate was there the whole time. I stuck it in my purse. 

*I do have a lot of birth certificates - some kids have multiple copies. 

** Note to self:  some things, like searching through piles of birth certificates, should be done without being rushed. 

Mini and I drove to the place where we prefer to buy computers. I could've gone a little bit out of my way to drive up the speedy state road, or take the more direct route with stop lights. I opted for the direct route. Mini and I got stopped by a freight train. Then that freight train seemed to stall. Another freight train came from the other direction. Then a commuter train. Then we had to sit and wait through all the cars ahead of us trying to cross the tracks with traffic lights. It was unbelievable. A 12 or 14 minute drive took over 30 minutes. 

Meanwhile Marie was texting about all the doctors she'd spoken to and tests that were being done and how Mom didn't know her phone number or half the grandkids names. I wondered if I should've stayed at the hospital, especially if Curly didn't need to go caddy and the bank account wasn't getting set up and apparently Mini and I were going to grow into old women before we ever made it to the computer store. I scolded Mini for not being ready to go when I wanted her to go. Then . . . I lost it. 

I sobbed. And sobbed. Tried to stop and then stared again. 

Add to this an ordeal I'm not going to even get into, but we are at a crossroads with Lad. His exotic frog collection is overwhelming, not to mention smelly. Some of his other choices are even more concerning. We are navigating things and are unsure how to proceed. When it rains is pours. 

Any guesses on how
many tanks he has?

Mini and I got a computer. I almost laughed when right in front of the salesman she tried to unplug the display laptop and remove the security device as if she was going to take THAT exact one home with us. She caught herself and was like OH, WAIT. 

I'll say it for you, OH, MINI. How will we all be entertained once she leaves for college? 

We then went to the camera store and spent more money than I care to mention (still worth every penny) to pick up the approximately 110 hours of home movies that I thought were lost, then were found, and now are transferred on a few little jump drives that I must guard with my life. 

It was cloudy and I wasn't sure I should go to the pool with Curly. I hesitated. I called Coach and sobbed on the phone. Curly wanted to go to the pool. Mini urged me to go. She pointed out that even with the clouds the UV rays were 8. I didn't know what that meant. (I know what a UV ray is, but I didn't know what the range is, what number it goes up to. Hey, when it's sunny out - it means it's hot and I might get some color and I enjoy being at the pool. That's what I know).

Mini:  You are a sun bathing monster, how do you not know what UV ray numbers mean? 

I took Curly and her friend to the pool and I was glad. It felt good to relax and I napped a little as it wasn't too hot to fall asleep on my chair. I had warned Curly that we were going to the bank after the pool and her friend was gonna have to come with us. Understood. 

We got to the bank at 4:35. They close at 5. They wouldn't open the account because it was after 4:30. My regular banker wasn't there and I know she would've done it, because we are in the system. It doesn't take that long. I say that, but we all know when I go back for my 4th try to open her account that there will be a power outage or a bank robbery or some other interference and it will take us hours. 

I do know that there are people in the world with real problems and I do feel silly complaining about my day (which was last week and several days before Reg's major seizure). 

Unrelated, because I don't have any
photos that depict frustration -
but I took a pic of this photo
while I was in my dad's study on one of
 my recent visits. I'm the cute one.
 Kidding. Can you guess which is me? We were
 vacationing in Colorado. Look at the mountain
 in the reflection. That's a humming
 bird at the feeder. 

Everything I tried felt  wrong and I was at a loss for where I belonged - having no protocol for what one does when one's mother is in the hospital and finding it difficult to navigate with sisters who hover and monopolize. Sheesh  - it was so frustrating. 

I guess self-care for me is getting things accomplished and off my list. Yikes that was just not happening. BTW - Reg is on anti-seizure meds and having an MRI the 18th (soonest I could get, but the doc isn't worried).

In the next 12 days I will drive Tank back to Omaha, Coach will drive Ed to Indiana, and Coach and I will drive Mini to college together. I start babysitting on the 16th. You know the saying "Not much to see here" - well, that's not true for us at the moment.

Something your college kid is glad to have (but maybe not standard protocol) while at college? How busy is your next 12 days? 

finding frustration, followed by feeling foiled, frequently, I've got 'F' words to say, I guess

I snapped this while at my folks' house
recently thinking you all might enjoy it.
 Behind every great photo display unit from
 the 90s is a device used to chill food.
 At least hers is not in her dining room. 

(backing up the bus a little, because this was already prepared. In case you missed the news in my comments from Monday:  Reg had a grand mall seizure early Monday morning while I was trying to drive him to the ER. It was a long day as the docs decided what to do. More updates as they become available)

FRUSTRATION:  

Tuesday  (last week) - the day after Mom went in the hospital was a day filled with frustration.

I really felt sort of lost all day. I had a plan when I went to bed, when we thought Mom would be sent home in the morning. When Marie decided to come in town, I questioned my plan for the day and I ended up rearranging it. 

What on earth? 

I will be the first to admit that I didn't want to be flexible and allow Marie to dictate what time I went to the hospital. I chose to be a pain when she asked me to switch when I was going to go. I said NO. 

I had things to do. Coach was trying to convince me to consider that she was coming from another state, but from my perspective she didn't need to come. From my experience, Marie believes that she is the most important, if not the only, child my parents have. This has played out numerous times. Like when she thanks me for getting OUR parents groceries in bad weather. I'm not doing this to help her. 

This is what I saw in my family room early
 one morning the other day. Is it me? Did
you see a man's face? Ed was standing there
 and mid-sentence I was like OH, OH LOOK. 

HE'S NO COWBOY:  

In times like this everyone wants to feel helpful. When Dad was thrown from a horse in Yellowstone in '16 (not sure I shared that here before, but Dad almost died. Brain bleed, broken hip, 6 broken ribs), Marie tried to convince all of us to hire a private jet to fly him home or rent a medical RV to drive him home. 

Coach spoke up on the group phone call, saying HE'S IN A GREAT HOSPITAL, IT MAKES NO SENSE TO MOVE HIM RIGHT NOW. ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN IN THAT MEDICAL RV IN THE MIDDLE OF NO WHERE AND NOTHING CAN BE DONE THEN. 

Later Coach and I recognized the issue. Ann flew out with Mom after the accident, so she was there. Pat was the one travelling with him, so he was there. Mike agreed to fly out when Dad was ready to come home and help in that way. I never offered to fly out there, because I was needed at home and there was nothing I could do there. 

Translation:  I know things.

WHAT? YOU DON'T WANT TO STOOP TO MY LEVEL?

Marie wanted so desperately to fly out, because she hated the thought of sacrificing her cherished #1 kid spot, and perhaps she hated to be linked with someone like me - the only kid who wasn't going to make an appearance at a hospital in Wyoming. She was constantly offering to fly out and both Mom and Dad insisted that she not come. No need.

When Dad did come home, Mike flew out to help get him on and off the plane. He had to fend off well-intentioned people who kept offering to lift him by pulling him up from under his arms. Nope - Dad had 6 broken ribs. That was not gonna work. 

Anyway, Marie let all of us know that she was going to drive from Milwaukee to O'Hare to watch Dad get on the ambulance that would take him to the rehab hospital. She took photos and texted them to us. The tech on the ambulance in one of the photos looked super annoyed. 

She got lost on the way to the rehab hospital after leaving O'Hare and was the last to arrive. I was the first one there. (I rarely utter that phrase). When Marie arrived, she handed Mom a notebook. "This is all of the research that I did. All the different private jet and RV companies I talked to when I was trying to find another way to bring him home." 

I was dumbfounded. What on earth? That had been voted down weeks before he came home, but it seemed Marie wanted points for all of her effort. I know, I know, we all handle trauma differently. I just felt it was an odd time to brown nose. 

***********

FOILED IS THE NAME OF THE GAME:  

Initially Dad planned to go see Mom at the hospital after her mini-stroke, and then only one additional visitor could be there. I didn't want to get there and not be allowed in, because Marie was there. I decided to get there before her and then leave when she arrived. Mike convinced Dad to stay home anyway. 

Frustration followed my every move that day. 

At 10 am I left the house with both girls on my way to the hospital. I dropped Mini off at Coach's work to 'steal' his car - a practice we do almost daily. Later someone is tasked to go get him. It's 7 minutes away and across a major road from the club where the kids caddy, so it works. 

Mini was supposed to meet me at the golf club when I dropped Curly off around 11:30. Mini wasn't caddying. She'd registered for classes at ND that morning and she and I planned to go purchase her laptop for college. 

Curly and I saw Nana at the hospital. Shortly after Marie arrived, we left. We went to the bank to get Curly an account. She has a college account somewhere else, but I dislike intermingling her caddy and sitting cash with our money and then trying to remember to send it to the college account. Time to get her set up with a debit card, etc. 

I'd tried to do that last week, but I didn't have enough/correct paperwork. Her passport expired. She can't find her 8th grade student ID. I didn't have her birth certificate with me, thinking her social security card and recently expired passport was sufficient. They wouldn't let me do it. I wondered if her birth certificate was in the vault, but I didn't have the key with me to our safety deposit box.

After that initial fail, I went home and looked through my stack of birth certificates on my desk. It wasn't there. I had the presence of mind to grab the key to the safety deposit box on my way to the hospital. 

After the hospital, we went to the bank. There was no birth certificate in the vault. Foiled. 

I'd worked the whole morning around dropping Curly off to caddy. She heard from a fellow caddy that there was some event going on and they weren't using caddies, or something. Foiled. 

I called Mini who was supposed to meet me to do the computer thing. 

Mini:  So, I'm over at my friend B's house. N is over here letting out B's dogs while they are out of town. One of the dog's bumped into a door and locked N inside a room, so I had to come over. She handed me the key through the window and I had to let her out. 

Me:  Well get home because I want to leave to go get your computer.

Mini:  Sure. I don't want to stay here anyway. The dogs pooped inside the house. Then one of them slid in the poop and there is like poop everywhere. It is rank in here. (insert N dying laughing in the background). 

And there it is, Mini finding a way to blow my mind as I'm trying to figure out a plan and then re-configuring said plan.

**********

Have you ever heard of a dog locking a dog sitter in a room? Come on. Who thinks Mini just wanted to go visit the dogs with her friend? Any major brown noses in your family? Am I the only one who uses a safety deposit box any more? 

positivity (with a hint of 'they still make me nuts), "let's fatten you up," & deja vous timing

Thanks

First off, thanks for the thoughtful messages for my mom. The family dynamics have almost driven me nuts, but this weekend has been calm and uneventful, so I'm going to focus on that. 

*sharing some of the nonsense later, because it helps lift the weight and it's entertaining, is it not? Stay tuned. 

GRATEFUL

We are all grateful that Mom's mini-stroke was indeed mini and that the whole thing resulted in her receiving long overdue, but vehemently refused, medical care. I'm happy to share that she is home and agreeing to take the few medications that the doctors really wanted her to take. She feels good and is perky. She even went with Ann and Dad to a follow up appointment at Dad's GP . . . as if she's accepted this wonderful doctor as her own. 

Pinch me. 

On the cooperative front:  she's using a walker as a precaution. She's going to Coach's clinic for outpatient PT due to weakness in her right arm and hand. 

She's also carrying a cell phone for the fist time in her life. It isn't a legit cell phone. It's part of a heart monitor thing. She must keep it within 5 feet for 30 days while  she wears this 'knob' type thing attached to her chest. The cell phone reads the attachment thing. My folks have never owned a cell phone. Have I mentioned Mom's stubbornness? They are adjusting to charging a device each night. Mom wears the cell phone in a passport holder around her neck. 

Coach and I both feel that since she's started taking meds (4x a baby aspirin dose, something for cholesterol, and Zoloft for anxiety which lead to her stroke, worrying about getting her license renewed - Zoloft also supposedly improves mobility) she seems mentally clearer, less spacey and confused. The lost memory thing is not undone, but she seems different . . . more like her formerly engaged and tuned-in self. 

thanks GIPHY

MEAN GIRLS COPYCAT

If you've seen the movie Mean Girls, then you might appreciate that I've convinced Mom to start eating 'Perfect' protein bars. She didn't want anything to do with Ensure or any other meal replacement shake when the hospital's dietician suggested it. My guess is that she associates Ensure with caring for her elderly mother and aunt. 

Perfect bar nutrition facts from the company website.

Her appetite has diminished, but we are trying to urge her to eat something to keep up her strength. I buy Perfect bars for my kids. Reg likes them after he works out or plays in a basketball game. They have a lot of protein, but they also have loads of carbs.

I told Mom that one of the cute little guys I sit for eats these (he does). I told her that they taste good and as a bonus they have the protein she needs. I told her to try to at least eat half of one a day, and she is doing that. 

What is even happening?

VARIETY IS THE SPICE OF LIFE

Mom and Curly
from a distance.

Dad is apparently reading: 
THE WAR THAT
 MADE THE ROMAN EMPIRE,
then he can watch
Better Off Dead when
he needs a breather from
such light reading.

Coach, Curly and I walked over Saturday night and Mom was glad we showed up because she wanted to go outside and walk a little. It was a beautiful night and she pushed her walker along for a bit enjoying some fresh air. I brought over our copy of Better Off Dead for Dad, since he was bummed he missed the beginning the other night. 

Sunday morning I went over and sat with Mom so Dad could go to mass. We are not leaving her alone just yet. I snapped a photo of Dad's typical reading selection along with the copy of our DVD. 

IN OTHER UNRELATED MEDICAL UPDATES

Note the computer and laptop watching him
 from my ancient end table. That end table
 stores so many tot toys in my daycare, but the
 day I end my daycare I will be ready to
 get rid of my two eye sore end tables. 

Reg had his extended 3 day EEG test Monday-Wednesday last week. The doc was trying to capture one of his deja vous episodes. They wonder if he has a seizure disorder which could explain the deja vous feeling and the difficulty attending in school, etc. 

He couldn't shower, go outside, workout, shoot hoops FOR THREE DAYS. It was a challenge, but in typical Reg fashion he complained minimally and went with the flow. 

Unfortunately he didn't have a SINGLE episode.

Maybe he always wanted
 to have a pony tail?

This is what it looked like
 when I took off the  gauze
and removed the
 electrodes at long last. 

Yesterday? After he caddied, he came home and told me that he'd woken up and felt off. Like a deja vous thing was about to happen. While he waited to caddy, he threw up. While he caddied he drank a little water and threw up again. He felt the deja vous presence all dang day. When he got home, he slept for 2.5 hours and woke up feeling much better. He said this was the worst it has been since the very first time when it all began early May of '21.

So frustrating and concerning. The test, by the way, will cost us around $2,000 AFTER insurance. I haven't heard any results yet, so maybe the equipment gathered helpful data despite the fact that he didn't feel the deja vous stuff. 

If I had hair to spare, I'd be tearing my it out. 

NOT YELLOWSTONE THAT PARK THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED, BUT HERE WE ARE

We took all 6 kids to dinner last night at a trendy Mexican place. So good. The idea: we aren't going to Yellowstone, let's carve out time for a family meal out. This is harder than it may sound, but it was more togetherness than we would've accomplished at that elusive national park that shall not be named, since Ed wasn't planning to go out west. 

Was your weekend full of funny 80s movies? Did you manage to avoid reading books about the building of the Roman Empire? 

Do you eat Perfect protein bars? Or drink ensure for that matter? Are there things that you swear you will never do when you are elderly, like my mom who insisted:  I WON'T TSEE A DOCTOR? For me? I swear I will continue to try to dress sharp. Ugly, sensible shoes are non-negotiable. 

A riddle: how many people does it take to get Mom to go to the hospital?

WEDNESDAY:  I accompanied my folks to get their drivers licenses renewed. That's a long story for another day, but Mom was very anxious about passing her test. 

No amount of: 

BUT YOU'VE NEVER HAD A TICKET (how are we related?), 

and YOU'VE NEVER BEEN IN A CAR ACCIDENT,

and YOU DON'T NEED TO TAKE THE WRITTEN PART,

and THE DRIVING TEST ISN'T GOING TO BE HARD

would ease her mind. 

As I mentioned, I'm trying to get over and visit my folks more frequently. When my sisters aren't present, we are able to visit and converse easily. We had my folks over for dinner the day after Ed flew home from Budapest. This was largely because I didn't see Mom for Mother's Day. We had a delightful meal and we were all here. Lots of laughs. My kids were like, we should do that more often. 

FRIDAY NIGHT:  As I headed out the door to Reg's travel game, I asked Curly to ride her bike over and spend some time with my folks. She did that and Lad walked over with Finnegan. 

Later Culry shared that when Nana went outside to pet Finn, Dad told her he'd only eaten a peanut butter sandwich for dinner because Nana didn't feel well. That might be the first sandwich Dad has ever prepared for himself. He doesn't make meals. Ever. 

SATURDAY:  Before I raced off to Reg's next set of games, Curly and I went to Costco. I got my folks a rotisserie chicken, a pulled pork meal to make in the microwave, and a bag of chicken strips for the freezer. Coach ran to the grocery store and bought them some easy potatoes and veggies. 

When we dropped it off, I told Mom THIS COOKS RIGHT IN THE MICROWAVE.

Mom:  Microwave?

Curly pointed to the world's greatest appliance and Mom sort of nodded. I marched into the family room and showed Dad the bag of breaded chicken strips and told him that he COULD make these himself if needed. "The directions are right here. You put them on a cookie sheet." I also told him that if they had no dinner to CALL ME, I'm a 2 minute drive away and I always have mountains of dinner food ready to go. 

SUNDAY:  I saw Dad at mass and I asked how Mom was feeling. He said she isn't any better, but when asked he said he wasn't sure what her issue was. 

Me:  Dad, on the way home from the DMV I begged Mom to go to the doctor. She said if she ever didn't feel well that she'd go. Remind her of that. 

Dad:  I'm trying. 

In other medical updates: 
Reg was prepped
 for his extended EEG on
 Monday. More about that soon. 

MONDAY:  I was leaving for my writing group. Mini decided to come and meet my writing friends and listen to their comments about my writing. I asked Curly to go visit my folks again and Coach agreed to go with her. 

Right after Mini and I arrived, Coach called to tell me that Dad needed to talk to me right away. Coach and Curly were still at our house when Dad called our landline. 

I called Dad and he said:  I THINK MOM'S HAD A STROKE (mini-stroke). THAT'S WHY SHE HASN'T BEEN FEELING WELL. ANN IS HERE. WE CAN'T CONVINCE MOM TO GET IN THE CAR.

I wasn't close to home, but Coach was. I told him I'd send Coach - besides, if Mom needed to be lifted into the car, he's the guy- he's stronger than me. (not by much, mind you, promise not to tell him that I admitted his superior strength). I think she'd already agreed to go by the time Coach arrived, but she kept stalling/arguing. 

Coach:  We can do this the easy way, with you walking to the car, or we can call 911 and all the neighbors will come running. 

Coach later imitated Mom when she FINALLY walked to the car. She followed Dad and Ann. Coach walked behind her with his arms outstretched because she was unsteady. He said she stuck her tongue out at Dad and Ann like a little kid. Goodness. 

Ann and my youngest brother, Mike, were at the hospital (2 visitor limit), so Mini and Tank and I went and hung out with Dad back at his house. One of my nieces was there too. Dad was watching Better Off Dead, finding it hilarious. 

Dad told me when he thought something was wrong he called Pat. In Ireland. Pat and Aunt Leprechaun are in Ireland visiting her family for most of July. Aunt Leprechaun is a doctor, but I LIVE A FEW MINUTES AWAY. He admitted that Mom told him a few days before that her hand and her foot felt heavy. I was like DAD, THIS WOULD'VE BEEN GOOD INFORMATION TO HAVE.

Dad's brother is a neurologist in Texas and he told Dad to have her outstretch her arms. If one hand curled up a little, she'd had a stroke. The hand curled. Dad called Ann, a nurse next. I do appreciate that I was called, not for my medical know-how, but for my heavy persuasion or heavy lifting skills, perhaps. 

Honestly, I believe this is a blessing in disguise. Mom is doing well and now she's being assessed. All the tests and blood work imaginable. The doctors asked her if she'd take a pill for things like cholesterol, if that was needed. She said no. Sigh. 

In the meantime, I must say that navigating a sick parent is a challenge, but I feel like navigating a sick parent with our family dynamics is really difficult. Whatever issues are present are magnified. 

There's a group text with my siblings. Marie insisted on coming in town from Milwaukee. This wasn't really necessary as any of us who are local could spend the day sitting bed-side watching Mom have tests done. When I texted to say that I had planned to go the hospital, Marie asked me to adjust the time when I was going to go. I went for a little while this morning, and left shortly after Marie got there. 

Marie's texts have included things like THE SOCIAL WORKER WAS HERE. I GAVE HER MY NUMBER, AND ANN'S, SINCE SHE'S LOCAL. Of course. 

I called Dad this afternoon to see if he needed help with dinner. He said Marie was picking up Culver's. I reminded him that I just bought them meals and that they are in the fridge. 

I continue to feel boxed out, but I'm trying to focus on my feeling of overall gratitude  -  that Mom is getting assessed and that this was not a massive stroke.