Take me back to yesterday...

There's a sweet little grand baby sleeping softly upstairs, she asked me to wake her up as soon as I got up. I'm going to have to tell her a little white lie.  Not a huge one, but Gramma needs a few minutes of silence, a few minutes to think and process the world around me.  A few minutes of nothing.  After I have that I will gladly wake her, help her get showered and dressed and ready to face the world.

It's been a week... a long and pretty much horrible week.  Hubster's has been in the hospital since Sunday when I had to call an ambulance to come and get him.  He's a mess.  I keep getting angrier at the silence from the doctors.  And they simply keep loading him up with more pain medication, all the while he is losing more and more use of his leg and the medication is getting stronger and stronger.

Frustration just might not be a strong enough word.

Our little Angel did not realize Grampa was still in the hospital, she was here when he'd gone, but she was sure I had brought him home when she came home from her visit to the hospital, on Tuesday.  To put it mildly she was less than pleased with me for not keeping her more informed.

I picked her up yesterday and took her with me on my return trip.  Sadly, the amount of medication they are giving him now has him very dazed and out of it, but he sure recognized and slightly perked up when the Angel strolled in the room with her dinner and drink to enjoy some time with her Grampa.

We didn't stay long, but she felt she needed to stay with Gramma and keep her company.  I'm so happy she did!

We made popcorn, "the old fashioned" way (I have a popcorn popper).  Her eyes about popped out of her head when it started popping.  I have a Amish multi color mix of popcorn, it's all different shades of white and yellow when it pops.  Oh my goodness did that tickle her!  She was certain I was popping Indian Corn. Makes me wonder what she would have done if I had popped it on the stove?

It was precious time, we talked and talked.  About favorite things, Grampa (I believe that is her favorite subject), about school and dance, and how she feels about different people and their roles in her life.  When I spend hours alone with her it reminds me of my boy when he was young.

She fell asleep early, she wants to go back to the hospital to see that Grampa, she feels that she can hang around and cheer him up.  I love it! And I am glad she wants to go.

Well... I know it's short and a little bland, I'm sorry... I simply feel a bit gutted and rushed.  I am trying to finish a few minor chores before I wake her up and get us ready to go.  The Hubs is having another bad morning if his text is any indication... And there is another round of snow on the way...

We'll talk soon, I promise...

It's called living...

Well hello Stranger... yep I read your mind.  I know I haven't written.  And it sure isn't about not having anything going on in life. Quite the opposite.  It's almost like too much life is going on, all the time.

I rush around each morning so I can take care of all the pets in the mornings, pack lunches and fix breakfast, somehow I used to be able to do that for more than just two people.  With ease.  Not sure what happened along the way to now.

Then I rush about all day trying to take care of everything in the hours that everyone has available.  Work, doctors, therapy... everything is vying for that same span of time.

Then rush home to start the same morning routine in reverse.  Walk the boys, fix the dinner, clean up if I can scrape together enough energy and then take care of the turtle, lizard, love on the cat and it's time to crash.

Not a very fulfilling way to live, that's for sure.  The weather hasn't been cooperating either.  We had a few drop dead gorgeous early days and then it's been a combination of bitter cold, snow, ice, bitter cold, freezing rain, snow, bitter cold.  I guess you are following that.  Normally not a problem, but this year, well it's been a struggle.  This year I realized that moving further from work, well, it simply takes some adjusting.

We needed to make fresh squeezed lemonade

Cooking our own breakfast

I am struggling to find that happy medium.  Right now it feels as though it simply isn't going to happen.  I am so thankful for my mini-me deciding that she needs to spend every other weekend with her Grampa and I.  I forces me to slow down, to savor the important things in life.  To laugh and be silly.  I am afraid if I did not have that I would be border line crazy by now.

Making Grampa be a silly kid again... whipped cream it is!

The sweetie sure knows what to request for dinner...

Hubs is not healing.  Oh the hip is great!  Absolutely wonderful in fact, full range of motion, probably works better that the other one.  But it seems that I should have been insisting I attend all appointments with him. Because... well arthritic and necrotic are two very, very different things and the original problem has never been addressed because it was discovered the hip was necrotic and had to be dealt with immediately.  And all the bed rest and therapy and the compensation while it's healed has only aggravated the original problem to the point of unbelievable!

Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers, tomorrow morning we will take him to get a nerve block done on his L2.  If that works, please Lord, then we just need to chart the path forward for that.  It will probably mean one more surgery, but... that should be it!

I hope so!  I hate seeing him in so much pain.  And on the selfish side, I am tired.  Very, very tired.  I can't imagine how caregivers of long term patients do it.  My fibro has been fighting me like crazy, maybe if I didn't have my own demons?  Who knows.  But every step forward feels like 20 backward.  I feel like it would be okay if this insanity had not invaded every inch of my life.  If there was some area that was smooth and steady.  I am struggling to even find quiet time for coffee.

I mean come on coffee time should be sacred! I'm sitting here typing, looking out at the lingering snow, trying to ignore the fact that my phone just sent me another weather alert about the wind chill and listening to the non-stop sound of the turtle filter reminding me that I need to clean the tank today. Knowing I need to do my own physical therapy (ugghhh - whole different list of "what the's"), and regretting the fact that I couldn't sleep last night.

Please know I haven't gone away.  I just have such a limited amount of time to accomplish everything.  I am so far behind on everything, I owe folks quilts, soaps, socks, a giraffe.  I have more projects than I can budget time for at work, and I still haven't finished unpacking... And all I long for is somewhere quiet with hot coffee and no to-do list.

I guess it's starting to get to me a bit... I hope that if you are in one of those snow covered area's you are staying warm and safe.  If you are enjoying the warmth of sunshine, please forgive the rest of us while we hate on you a bit...  Slow down and enjoy the time with your families and loved ones...

selfish...

For a while now I have been dealing with some things that are making me tired.  Selfishness, nasty, lazy and a few other choice words come to mind when thinking about it.

Sweet Hubs knows it is taxing me to my limits.  Making me struggle with flares and simply wanting to just walk away from many things. He could simply ignore it, sooner or later I come to grips with things.  But he doesn't.  He handles things so different.

He lets me be selfish.

This morning as I hobbled down the stairs, cursing myself for not getting my knee/leg looked at, wincing at the pain each step caused, I am not good at taking time for myself and my own health.  I was feeling less than optimistic about the day.  It'd promised to be an amazing one, but I was already tired and cranky.  The ache had managed to rob me of most of the hours my eyes were closed, and the throbbing had already started for the day.  Rounding the corner and not seeing hubby I realized he was down in his Man Cave (or girl cave if you ask the grand baby), then I spied my coffee cup sitting innocently in front of the coffee pot.  I couldn't help but smile at the fact that it contained a nice dose of Buffalo Trace.  Filling my cup and wandering down the stairs very slowly convinced me it was gonna be a slow one.

As I sipped my hot, bourbon laced coffee, my sweet hubby listened to me think out loud... actually apologizing that I had gotten the last of the bourbon.  He'd given it to me and didn't have any.  He knew I loved to start my Saturday's like that and he'd unselfishly given it to me.  He loves it to.  It was a huge gift of love.

Next the kitty knocked over the flowers he'd bought me.  Water everywhere.  Including under the Valentine's box he'd tried to get me to open a few nights ago when my heart was so heavy and sore.  As I panicked that whatever the brightly wrapped package contained could be damaged by the water, Hubby saw another opportunity to make me open it early.  He quickly started insisting that I open it, that the water would ruin it and he would be so upset.  In my haste to clean up and prevent damage I missed the cues that usually tell me I am being worked.  Let me just say that I am 99% sure that little bit of water was in NO way going to damage those boxes of carefully wrapped and sealed sponge candy.

He'd ordered me Romolo's this time.  Stefanelli's is our normal kind, it was what I'd remembered from growing up.  We both had been curious every time someone from home would insist that we were not eating the right kind, we needed Romolo's it was the original, the stuff I remembered.  Okay, all those at home... You were right!

After limping to walk the boys and do a few things around the house I decided to take a hot bath in Epsom salts before the grand baby woke up.  Hoping, praying actually that it would eliminate whatever was bothering my leg.

Hubs was working on fixing the banister rail, it had finally given way and fallen off, something we were terribly afraid would happen when he'd needed it most.  It waited.  Having my Mister Fix-It back is nice.  I offered to help after finding the wood filler for him, instead he fixed me a nice hot bubble bath concoction.  Epsom Salts, some essential oils and other things all designed to alleviate pain.

How unselfish of him.

Soaking in mounds of soft bubbles, listening to Enya, surrounded by candles and looking out the window at the bright blue sky... well that should have been more that enough to mellow my mood, make my heart soar, and assure me I am loved.  And frankly it was.

But not to him.

After he'd finished fixing the rail.  He spoiled and pampered me some more.  I am sure not many women can say their hubby gave them a manicure and a pedicure... I can!

Again... unselfish.

So loving.

After he fixed breakfast with the grand baby, and he cleaned up the kitchen we got her ready for the day. We'd planned to take her swimming. She's got a bit of a cold. Why risk it?

Picnic lunch packed.

Baby girl ready.

Adventure bound.

We headed up to Alton.  It's time for the eagles and we didn't want to miss the beautiful day.

He unselfishly allowed me a day of selfishness.  A day I desperately needed.  I got some amazing pictures of my grand baby, the eagles, him, the sunset and captured so many silly moments.  We laughed we giggled. We sang travel songs and went back in time.

When it was time for dinner... we chose an unlikely place.  A small little hole in the wall looking place.  Much laughter and fun later we'd enjoyed an incredible dinner, met Bob the Cat, toasted with toast, giggled and laughed.

The drive home with the sun setting provided us with many opportunities to pull off, take pictures, have tea on the banks of the Mississippi. All while dancing to Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars.  In the failing sun we watch literally hundreds of eagles high above the bluffs and river soaring on the jet stream, their white chests glowing a beautiful red in reflection.  We'd stopped to see if the Mama Eagle on her nest was still there. She was only now she was hovered over it, tucked in for the night.

The sea gulls were swarming the waters edge, grabbing that last little snack before dark, and a short way down the road hundreds of crows adorned the trees like black leaves, straight out of a Hitchcock movie.

A quick stop at the store for a few small things, Grand Baby needed a magazine she's been looking for, and those boys needed food.  And we headed home.  This time I drove, Hubs leg was starting to complain quite a bit.  Still he offered.  Knowing I don't see well in the dark and therefore do not like to drive at night.

It was my turn to be unselfish.

While I drove home, he relaxed, leaning back, listening to music.  Letting the music and pain medication help him through it all.

Shortly after arriving home he headed upstairs.  Worn out, needing to stretch out.  I am sitting up with the Grand, who informed us that she needed to spend the whole weekend with us - and we couldn't be happier. I know she needs us, that we can give her a place to selfishly call her's.

The reality is that little girl sitting quietly at the end of the sofa reading her magazine...

Well Grampa and Gramma selfishly need her!

a slap...

How many of you have ever felt that defining moment.  The one that urges you to step back, take a look around and take a flying leap of faith?  How many have ever felt shoved to take a leap of faith? I've really been struggling with some decisions, I've been dealing with mountains, trying to figure out how to scale them and not create big changes.  Anyone that knows me, and knows me well, knows that change is really hard for me.

Sitting in the Walgreen's parking lot waiting for hubby's prescription to be ready, while he was at home suffering in pain because he'd done a bit too much on his first day back to work, I had my moment.  Surfing the net, kicking back and just unwinding from several really high stress days.  (Yeah, that is another no-no for me - I know.) Scrolling Facebook, checking emails, just your every day stuff you can do in a car while waiting.  I should have been finishing my socks, then I might not have been quite so... so... well, I don't even know if there are words for it.

It was like a splash of ice water on a cold day.  It was raw and biting. One simple message, one string of words.  It was enough.  It was my push.

Walking my boys tonight, after I got home and took care of hubby, I had a whole bunch of words that I yelled into the cold evening air.  I am not a confrontational person, I will usually take the road that doesn't contain those obstacles.  It's easier on me.  So I tend to spend my alone time saying things that I can't bring myself to say out loud to another person.

Hubby understood, he could definitely empathize, he greeted me at the door with a Jack and Coke.  The girl and her little family was coming over for dinner and I needed to dry my tears, stop being an infant, and realize that not all people have the ability to be decent humans. I get it, I really do. Besides the Jack and Coke was calming.  Almost as calming as the hugs and love from my family.

Tomorrow is another day, and I will face it head on.  Knowing that at some point the high road isn't the one to take.  That allowing others to crawl into and under your skin is not the way to proceed with life.  It tears you up in little pieces, shreds your heart and soul.  I am not willing to allow anyone to destroy me.  Especially not someone that I have given so much time and energy to.

Ironic end to a day that was escorted in with the most beautiful sunrise over a snow dusted landscape.... right now, my heart feels as cold and frozen as the ground outside.  That biting bitter cold is defining me, I don't like it.  It's not me.  I will rise above it, sadly, I fear it will be like the phoenix.  And dang I hate drama...