Just when you get settled into a comfortable (or uncomfortable) groove, life hands you the oddest and most dismaying (initially) roadblocks, and insists (dictates) that you change direction NOW!
How we respond to life's detours essentially determines our level of happiness and contentment with our lives. Kicking and screaming into each unexpected curve in the road will, predictably, lead to unhappiness and dissatisfaction.
Accepting the detour and curves and reversals, subsequently searching for beauty along the way will yield a higher level of satisfaction and contentment with life.
So where is the beauty and satisfaction in a back injury and the enforced time of work and decreased income? I've been asking myself the same question since August 5, 2011, which was my last day at work before my physician ordered me to take time off.
It took a very long time before I was able to see any beauty in anything, and I mean that quite literally. It took a month or two before I began to feel the very real
desperation of lack of income (WCB took eight weeks to assess the claim and a further two weeks to issue the first payment).
Financially, things are still in dire straits at our house. However, this has allowed me to get to know my SIL in a whole new way. She is a harsh taskmaster when it comes to money! I should have given her this "job" of looking after my finances when I first started nursing!
The abundance of free time has given me the opportunity to spend more time with my extended family members, my nieces and nephews and their children. I've spent more time with my youngest brother in the past months than in the previous years combined. He's an even better man than I previously thought.
These are the beautiful sights along my injured back detour.
Not so beautiful has been seeing my mother's increasingly rapid decline into the scary world of dementia. It's a privilege to spend additional time with her, as always. We've recently had her started on an anti-psychotic and the change in her has been remarkable! Her sense of humor has returned and she can smile again.
This has not been easy, but I've been able to witness and experience it in its entirety. Her dementia has brought her children into closer contact with each other, as we understand the need for frequent communication regarding Mom.
The most obvious beauty of my injured back has been the extra time with Kevy, my red-haired Gremlin. Sure, he still spends time at the sitter, but that's for his benefit as much as mine.
He says "I love you" frequently, and often follows that with a hug. Moments like that would not be as frequent if I were not spending this much time with him.
When it's time to return to work, I may not be returning to the type of work I previously did. However, that is speculation on my part, and some theorizing by my physician.
Regardless of the outcome, I hope to not forget the beauty I found while living on a decreased income and increased time.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Fear the Phone
If you've been paying any attention to my status (frequent) updates on Facebook, you are aware that I've taken on a new role in life, that of Pampered Chef Consultant. But being an Independent Consultant is not nearly enough challenge for me, I had to go and take the challenge of joining the Leadership Group, which is basically a fast track to being a director; not entirely sure what possessed me to do that.
Ah, well, never one to shy away from a challenge, I'm also working toward a Mediterranean Cruise in 2013. That is an award given to those who meet certain sales criteria, and certain recruiting criteria. I've really got my work cut out for me.
It seems that I'm missing the challenge of being in the hospital and on the ward, where life is fast-paced and unpredictable and coworkers can become a second family under the right conditions.
As it is somewhat unclear when I will be returning to nursing (due to back injury), I need to keep myself busy and surrounded by people.
I've already really come to appreciate the women I've met through Pampered Chef; all of them supportive and friendly. Its a group in which I feel I can relax and be myself with no pressures to be someone I'm not; no hiding my personality and delightful sense of humor. Yes, I just declared myself to have a delightful sense of humor.
Its not all fun and games, though. Well, actually it is. Even the work is fun. Hosting cooking shows allows me to be the center of attention for a few minutes. Going into other people's homes also allows me to meet and interact with a never-ending supply of new faces and personalities. In that regard, it is similar to nursing, minus the bodily fluids, of course.
There is one aspect of direct sales that I am having a bit of a challenge with, but I'm sure its only temporary. I've never met a challenge that I couldn't beat, and this one is no different. It'll just require lots of practice and perseverance, in addition to a sense of humor. The rule is not to take myself too seriously when I'm making the calls.
Up until today the only calls I'd made were to family. However, if I'm going to reach my goals, I'll need to get uncomfortable and reach past previous boundaries I've unconsciously set in my life. So today I made calls to women who were not related to me. The first call was not unsuccessful, nor was it done by the book. I had the pre-written script in front of me, just as a guidleline, and promptly was unable to follow it. The second call, I ignored the script entirely and relied on my charming personality instead. This felt better.
The third call was the best one yet! It went something like this: "Hi Myrna, this is Marla." (I'm Myrna, so this was completely backwards).
Silence.
"Hi Marla, this is Myrna." Whew. I remembered my own name.
Today yielded two "no" responses; I'm well on my way to my goal of 100.
Anyone with any experience in sales knows that for every four "no" responses, one "yes" is generally forthcoming.
I'm happy, because according to my calculations, my next four calls should be "yes."
Ah, well, never one to shy away from a challenge, I'm also working toward a Mediterranean Cruise in 2013. That is an award given to those who meet certain sales criteria, and certain recruiting criteria. I've really got my work cut out for me.
It seems that I'm missing the challenge of being in the hospital and on the ward, where life is fast-paced and unpredictable and coworkers can become a second family under the right conditions.
As it is somewhat unclear when I will be returning to nursing (due to back injury), I need to keep myself busy and surrounded by people.
I've already really come to appreciate the women I've met through Pampered Chef; all of them supportive and friendly. Its a group in which I feel I can relax and be myself with no pressures to be someone I'm not; no hiding my personality and delightful sense of humor. Yes, I just declared myself to have a delightful sense of humor.
Its not all fun and games, though. Well, actually it is. Even the work is fun. Hosting cooking shows allows me to be the center of attention for a few minutes. Going into other people's homes also allows me to meet and interact with a never-ending supply of new faces and personalities. In that regard, it is similar to nursing, minus the bodily fluids, of course.
There is one aspect of direct sales that I am having a bit of a challenge with, but I'm sure its only temporary. I've never met a challenge that I couldn't beat, and this one is no different. It'll just require lots of practice and perseverance, in addition to a sense of humor. The rule is not to take myself too seriously when I'm making the calls.
Up until today the only calls I'd made were to family. However, if I'm going to reach my goals, I'll need to get uncomfortable and reach past previous boundaries I've unconsciously set in my life. So today I made calls to women who were not related to me. The first call was not unsuccessful, nor was it done by the book. I had the pre-written script in front of me, just as a guidleline, and promptly was unable to follow it. The second call, I ignored the script entirely and relied on my charming personality instead. This felt better.
The third call was the best one yet! It went something like this: "Hi Myrna, this is Marla." (I'm Myrna, so this was completely backwards).
Silence.
"Hi Marla, this is Myrna." Whew. I remembered my own name.
Today yielded two "no" responses; I'm well on my way to my goal of 100.
Anyone with any experience in sales knows that for every four "no" responses, one "yes" is generally forthcoming.
I'm happy, because according to my calculations, my next four calls should be "yes."
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Insanity
I've heard that the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions over and over again and expecting to get different results.
Whew! That is absolutely true! There are so many areas in life where I've set goals and laid out plans and mini-goals, etc. It's usually the same aspects of my life that are involved; money and health/fitness are the most frequent targets of goal setting for me. And I don't think I'm unusual in that regard.
When it comes to money, I've tried many methods to save money, to pay off debt, to pay bills on time, and so on. And, as a nurse, it's not that there isn't enough money for these things. However, receiving compensation for my back injury is severely stressing my resources and my patience.
In the past I've joked about being one pay cheque away from being homeless. That's not so funny anymore. Savings accounts are wiped out, retirement accounts are non-existent, and the option of picking up extra shifts is not available to me. The bills, like electricity (which is sort of a necessity) are piling up. NSF fees are adding insult to injury at the bank, and so on.
Now I've always maintained that a person's situation is a result of their decisions, past and present. My current situation is no different. Obviously I made some poor financial choices in the past. Well, not just some, a lot. And I'm paying (bad play on words) for it now.
This time, instead of simply trying to blunder my way through a rough patch, I've called in another brain and set of eyes to examine my situation. Instead of simply asking her advice, I'm allowing her to tell me what to do, each step of the way, right down to how much cash I can spend for groceries.
She's got a fair bit of experience with these things, and loves solving problems such as this. I think she sees it as a challenge and a bit of a puzzle that needs solving.
I simply don't have the patience to sit and calculate different options and come up with ideas. I'm more likely to turn a blind eye to things and hope it all works out in the end. It is exactly that attitude that had gotten me in trouble; I've trice repeatedly to "solve" my situation, to no avail.
A different approach was called for this time. And already I can feel the difference; perhaps it is because if I spend money on coffee or other non-necessities, she'll know about it. She's telling me what to do with each penny and I'm certainly being held accountable.
Every expense has, or will be, examined to ascertain its necessity or to see whether it can be decreased by any amount. The areas we've attacked first are gas, groceries, and dining out, as these are areas which are relatively flexible.
What difference have I felt so far? Yesterday I did not stop for coffee on the way to the city in the early morning, nor did I stop for a snack on the way home. Today, I did not zip through McDonald's drive thru before going to pick up Kevy at his sleepover. We also spent the rest of the day at home, napping and hanging out.
Not only have I stopped spending money on coffee and drive-thrus, I've not ingested the extra calories from the coffees and snacks. It's a win-win situation, don't you think?
A new approach to an old and recurring problem is sometimes the best way to come up with a more creative solution that actually works!
Whew! That is absolutely true! There are so many areas in life where I've set goals and laid out plans and mini-goals, etc. It's usually the same aspects of my life that are involved; money and health/fitness are the most frequent targets of goal setting for me. And I don't think I'm unusual in that regard.
When it comes to money, I've tried many methods to save money, to pay off debt, to pay bills on time, and so on. And, as a nurse, it's not that there isn't enough money for these things. However, receiving compensation for my back injury is severely stressing my resources and my patience.
In the past I've joked about being one pay cheque away from being homeless. That's not so funny anymore. Savings accounts are wiped out, retirement accounts are non-existent, and the option of picking up extra shifts is not available to me. The bills, like electricity (which is sort of a necessity) are piling up. NSF fees are adding insult to injury at the bank, and so on.
Now I've always maintained that a person's situation is a result of their decisions, past and present. My current situation is no different. Obviously I made some poor financial choices in the past. Well, not just some, a lot. And I'm paying (bad play on words) for it now.
This time, instead of simply trying to blunder my way through a rough patch, I've called in another brain and set of eyes to examine my situation. Instead of simply asking her advice, I'm allowing her to tell me what to do, each step of the way, right down to how much cash I can spend for groceries.
She's got a fair bit of experience with these things, and loves solving problems such as this. I think she sees it as a challenge and a bit of a puzzle that needs solving.
I simply don't have the patience to sit and calculate different options and come up with ideas. I'm more likely to turn a blind eye to things and hope it all works out in the end. It is exactly that attitude that had gotten me in trouble; I've trice repeatedly to "solve" my situation, to no avail.
A different approach was called for this time. And already I can feel the difference; perhaps it is because if I spend money on coffee or other non-necessities, she'll know about it. She's telling me what to do with each penny and I'm certainly being held accountable.
Every expense has, or will be, examined to ascertain its necessity or to see whether it can be decreased by any amount. The areas we've attacked first are gas, groceries, and dining out, as these are areas which are relatively flexible.
What difference have I felt so far? Yesterday I did not stop for coffee on the way to the city in the early morning, nor did I stop for a snack on the way home. Today, I did not zip through McDonald's drive thru before going to pick up Kevy at his sleepover. We also spent the rest of the day at home, napping and hanging out.
Not only have I stopped spending money on coffee and drive-thrus, I've not ingested the extra calories from the coffees and snacks. It's a win-win situation, don't you think?
A new approach to an old and recurring problem is sometimes the best way to come up with a more creative solution that actually works!
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Sleepover
So Kevy's having his very first sleepover tomorrow at a friend's house. He's super excited, I'm nervous as heck. He'll be about ten miles down the road from home, but it feels like a thousand miles. I've got no problem leaving him to sleepover at the sitter's house; heck, we've had to do that since he was born cuz I worked a lot of nights.
This is different; he's going to a friend's house. It's another step towards independence and not needing me, and that means he's gonna start school soon, and then he'll be graduating, and then and then and then ...... Oh dear!
My older kids put up with me being a Nervous Nellie when it came to sleepovers and activities that took them away from me. I was sure I'd have gotten over that by now! But, alas, it appears I'm still afflicted.
He's gonna be away from me for about 18 hours, easy, right? He's stayed at the sitters for 72 hours sometimes when I've had three consecutive nights. Again, no problem.
Growing up is what kids are supposed to do, but they're supposed to do it slower! This is just too fast for me!
What if he cries for me at night? What if the other mom doesn't know how to turn him into a hippo or horse or elephant when tucking him in? What if he has to pee at night? What if he falls off a strange bed? What if? What if?!
I'm really not as worried or nervous as I'm leading on. He'll be perfectly fine at his friend's house.
And, I see this experience for what it is; an important step on the road to independence.
Even so, I'm leaving my cell phone number and instructions to call if he needs anything. I've also mentioned (more than a few times) to the other mother, that I will pick him up at 0300 if necessary.
This is different; he's going to a friend's house. It's another step towards independence and not needing me, and that means he's gonna start school soon, and then he'll be graduating, and then and then and then ...... Oh dear!
My older kids put up with me being a Nervous Nellie when it came to sleepovers and activities that took them away from me. I was sure I'd have gotten over that by now! But, alas, it appears I'm still afflicted.
He's gonna be away from me for about 18 hours, easy, right? He's stayed at the sitters for 72 hours sometimes when I've had three consecutive nights. Again, no problem.
Growing up is what kids are supposed to do, but they're supposed to do it slower! This is just too fast for me!
What if he cries for me at night? What if the other mom doesn't know how to turn him into a hippo or horse or elephant when tucking him in? What if he has to pee at night? What if he falls off a strange bed? What if? What if?!
I'm really not as worried or nervous as I'm leading on. He'll be perfectly fine at his friend's house.
And, I see this experience for what it is; an important step on the road to independence.
Even so, I'm leaving my cell phone number and instructions to call if he needs anything. I've also mentioned (more than a few times) to the other mother, that I will pick him up at 0300 if necessary.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Perfection
I'm not perfect and you're not perfect. No one is. So why do we demand perfection of ourselves? Why do we beat ourselves up when we fall short of perfection?
It's great to strive to improve on a continual basis; without growth, we stagnate and die. Not in the literal sense, of course. But each day that we're alive and breathing, we need to improve upon ourselves from the day before; each rising sun gives us the opportunity to start fresh.
Why I felt compelled to write about perfection tonight, I'll never know. What I do know that is the past few weeks I've let my mind and pen write a lot without any type of censorship. So when my mind gives me the nudge to write about a particular topic or person or situation, I pay attention, pick up my pen, and write. To some that may seem a bit wishy-washy; that's okay, I'm not writing this for you.
If you're a FB friend, you'll have noticed that I went for four (4) coffee dates in two days, two of which were with my mom and likely should not count. But it's never just me and my mom. Family and friends nearly always join us.
I was sort of dreading these "coffee" dates, as I sometimes tend to shrink back into my "hermit-zone" when things are not going well. However, I made myself go to each date, and I'm not sorry I did so. It's good for us to push past our comfort zones and get a bit uncomfortable on occasion. In this case I knew I needed to give myself a little nudge and spend some time with adults, communicating about grown-up things.
We all are familiar with the expression that things happen for a reason, etc. these coffee dates were no exception. With each person I sat down with and communicated, I learned more about them, and had new insights into my own
mind.
My two years working in rural nursing have not been kind to me, nor have I been kind to it, or to myself. I've lost the passion I once had for nursing as a result of the move to rural nursing. This disappoints me greatly! It took having coffee with a dear friend and co-worker for me to realize that this is not the fault of rural nursing. Things happen for a reason, but I'm really struggling with understanding this one!
Coffee #2 was a larger group; there were six of us, I believe. Here I learned that I should likely sit down and address my feelings about possibly not returning to regular nursing duties. I'm angry. But that's another post.
Lunch/coffee today was me and mom with one of her long-time friends, and her daughter. The moms visited and reminisced, while we discussed a multitude of topics; it was quite enjoyable.
This afternoon I sat down with an ex-boyfriend''s ex-wife. We've talked sporadically over the past years, and I've really come to appreciate her as a friend. Sitting with her I had another one of my "epiphanies," which happens every now and then. Without her, and without our conversation, I would never have had this revelation. It was one of those flashes of insight into one's own condition that changes the way a person behaves ever after. Just as I have used humor as a means of covering my insecurities, I believe I've also used another behavior for another purpose. (I don't care to share specifics of that behavior here.)
So how does this all relate back to perfection?
We're always growing, learning. We're never done learning about ourselves, and the more we learn about ourselves, the more adjustments we can make in our journey towards perfection.
It's great to strive to improve on a continual basis; without growth, we stagnate and die. Not in the literal sense, of course. But each day that we're alive and breathing, we need to improve upon ourselves from the day before; each rising sun gives us the opportunity to start fresh.
Why I felt compelled to write about perfection tonight, I'll never know. What I do know that is the past few weeks I've let my mind and pen write a lot without any type of censorship. So when my mind gives me the nudge to write about a particular topic or person or situation, I pay attention, pick up my pen, and write. To some that may seem a bit wishy-washy; that's okay, I'm not writing this for you.
If you're a FB friend, you'll have noticed that I went for four (4) coffee dates in two days, two of which were with my mom and likely should not count. But it's never just me and my mom. Family and friends nearly always join us.
I was sort of dreading these "coffee" dates, as I sometimes tend to shrink back into my "hermit-zone" when things are not going well. However, I made myself go to each date, and I'm not sorry I did so. It's good for us to push past our comfort zones and get a bit uncomfortable on occasion. In this case I knew I needed to give myself a little nudge and spend some time with adults, communicating about grown-up things.
We all are familiar with the expression that things happen for a reason, etc. these coffee dates were no exception. With each person I sat down with and communicated, I learned more about them, and had new insights into my own
mind.
My two years working in rural nursing have not been kind to me, nor have I been kind to it, or to myself. I've lost the passion I once had for nursing as a result of the move to rural nursing. This disappoints me greatly! It took having coffee with a dear friend and co-worker for me to realize that this is not the fault of rural nursing. Things happen for a reason, but I'm really struggling with understanding this one!
Coffee #2 was a larger group; there were six of us, I believe. Here I learned that I should likely sit down and address my feelings about possibly not returning to regular nursing duties. I'm angry. But that's another post.
Lunch/coffee today was me and mom with one of her long-time friends, and her daughter. The moms visited and reminisced, while we discussed a multitude of topics; it was quite enjoyable.
This afternoon I sat down with an ex-boyfriend''s ex-wife. We've talked sporadically over the past years, and I've really come to appreciate her as a friend. Sitting with her I had another one of my "epiphanies," which happens every now and then. Without her, and without our conversation, I would never have had this revelation. It was one of those flashes of insight into one's own condition that changes the way a person behaves ever after. Just as I have used humor as a means of covering my insecurities, I believe I've also used another behavior for another purpose. (I don't care to share specifics of that behavior here.)
So how does this all relate back to perfection?
We're always growing, learning. We're never done learning about ourselves, and the more we learn about ourselves, the more adjustments we can make in our journey towards perfection.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Responsibility (sometimes) Sucks)
Wherever you are in life, you're there because of choices YOU made! These are not always the big choices (which job offer to take); where you are is more a result of many small day-to-day choices.
We love to go through life thinking we are a result of our childhood, or a product of past abuses suffered earlier in life, even identifying ourselves as an abuse survivor.
Let me ask you this question: how can you call it living if you're an abuse "survivor?" That would imply that you are merely "surviving" vs truly thriving.
When is it a good time to let go of your past and start living? This is where our choices begin to factor in; when we've wallowed in self pity and bitterness long enough, we can choose to remain there and continue with our "poor poor me, my life is so lousy" attitude or we can CHOOSE to take action and change our lives for the better.
Personally, I have no patience or tolerance for those who have made the choice to remain in their "poor me" condition, whining and complaining ad nauseum, steadfastly refusing to make the choice to improve their lives in any manner.
Inaction is just another form of choice. In not taking action, we are CHOOSING to not take action.
We are a product of our past choices and while we cannot go back in time to change our choices, we can certainly CHOOSE to make better choices starting this exact moment.
We love to go through life thinking we are a result of our childhood, or a product of past abuses suffered earlier in life, even identifying ourselves as an abuse survivor.
Let me ask you this question: how can you call it living if you're an abuse "survivor?" That would imply that you are merely "surviving" vs truly thriving.
When is it a good time to let go of your past and start living? This is where our choices begin to factor in; when we've wallowed in self pity and bitterness long enough, we can choose to remain there and continue with our "poor poor me, my life is so lousy" attitude or we can CHOOSE to take action and change our lives for the better.
Personally, I have no patience or tolerance for those who have made the choice to remain in their "poor me" condition, whining and complaining ad nauseum, steadfastly refusing to make the choice to improve their lives in any manner.
Inaction is just another form of choice. In not taking action, we are CHOOSING to not take action.
We are a product of our past choices and while we cannot go back in time to change our choices, we can certainly CHOOSE to make better choices starting this exact moment.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
GONG SHOW
Some of my FB statuses are long enough to be short stories, but this is a story that would push the boundaries of status length. Besides, there is only so much patience I have for keying in lengthy dialogues on my iPhone.
Having said that, let me tell you a story.
It happened one bitterly cold Sunday in January. Kevin and I picked up my mother at her home and proceeded to drive off to Winnipeg. What was supposed to be a surprise for Great-Gramma turned out to not be much of a surprise because Luanna, my dear dear sister-in-law, was unaware that the event was to be a surprise. The surprise was that we were going to pick up Jen, my daughter, Kevy's birth mother, and my mother's granddaughter who she had not seen in many months. I'm sure she was convinced that Jen no longer existed and was just a part of her memory bank.
Now before I go any further with this tale, let me fill in some background, for those of you who are blissfully unaware of my mother's status (and I do not mean FB status). She is 87 years old, has pitifully poor hearing despite two expensive hearing aids, and has some form of dementia which is advancing surprisingly rapidly the past few weeks. She is normally very pleasant, but has had some more unpleasant moments recently, which is why we started her on Risperidone ten days ago, with very good effect.
Now that you are up to speed..... we are on the way to Winnipeg, the drive there was uneventful. After no confusion whatsoever (on my part) we found Jenny's new home and proceeded to pick her up. Her and I had prearranged to go to Smitty's at Pembina and Grant, and there we went.
After we were seated in our booth, the fun began. And what fun it was. Mom has her condition which leaves her at a distinct disadvantage at the best of times. Kevin is a toddler, which should also be known as a medical condition. Jennifer is 21 with an attitude. This is definitely a medical condition. I'm 44 and I was the only normal one at the table. And if you're buying that, well, you've got bigger things to be worrying about.
Picture the four of us at a table. Mom can't hear anything we're saying unless we practically shout. Kevin talks and fidgets non stop. Jennifer says very little and what she says usually should not be repeated. I spent most of my time repeating things that had to be censored first. Then attempting to discipline an unruly toddler on the other side of the table whose birth mother seems to think she can make decisions on behalf of.
Jen thought it was a good idea to play tic-tac-toe with Gramma. She won't be doing that again anytime soon. Mom beat her with 3 or 4 x's. In short, she got schooled and good!!
The drive home was ridiculously funny. Driving down the Trans Canada highway, a route that my mother has been on and driven on at least a million times, she asked where we were. It seems she no longer recognized the landmarks that were once so familiar. No, that's not the funny part. What was funny was that at the very same time, Kevy asked what road we were on and what the sign beside the road said. This cacophony of noise and conversation was brief but intense. Everytime I spoke to Kevin, Mom thought I was talking to her and demanded that I repeat myself. Kevin had this knack of simply not speaking until Mom was already talking and then I was listening to two at once.
(written last winter; not sure why I never posted it then)
Having said that, let me tell you a story.
It happened one bitterly cold Sunday in January. Kevin and I picked up my mother at her home and proceeded to drive off to Winnipeg. What was supposed to be a surprise for Great-Gramma turned out to not be much of a surprise because Luanna, my dear dear sister-in-law, was unaware that the event was to be a surprise. The surprise was that we were going to pick up Jen, my daughter, Kevy's birth mother, and my mother's granddaughter who she had not seen in many months. I'm sure she was convinced that Jen no longer existed and was just a part of her memory bank.
Now before I go any further with this tale, let me fill in some background, for those of you who are blissfully unaware of my mother's status (and I do not mean FB status). She is 87 years old, has pitifully poor hearing despite two expensive hearing aids, and has some form of dementia which is advancing surprisingly rapidly the past few weeks. She is normally very pleasant, but has had some more unpleasant moments recently, which is why we started her on Risperidone ten days ago, with very good effect.
Now that you are up to speed..... we are on the way to Winnipeg, the drive there was uneventful. After no confusion whatsoever (on my part) we found Jenny's new home and proceeded to pick her up. Her and I had prearranged to go to Smitty's at Pembina and Grant, and there we went.
After we were seated in our booth, the fun began. And what fun it was. Mom has her condition which leaves her at a distinct disadvantage at the best of times. Kevin is a toddler, which should also be known as a medical condition. Jennifer is 21 with an attitude. This is definitely a medical condition. I'm 44 and I was the only normal one at the table. And if you're buying that, well, you've got bigger things to be worrying about.
Picture the four of us at a table. Mom can't hear anything we're saying unless we practically shout. Kevin talks and fidgets non stop. Jennifer says very little and what she says usually should not be repeated. I spent most of my time repeating things that had to be censored first. Then attempting to discipline an unruly toddler on the other side of the table whose birth mother seems to think she can make decisions on behalf of.
Jen thought it was a good idea to play tic-tac-toe with Gramma. She won't be doing that again anytime soon. Mom beat her with 3 or 4 x's. In short, she got schooled and good!!
The drive home was ridiculously funny. Driving down the Trans Canada highway, a route that my mother has been on and driven on at least a million times, she asked where we were. It seems she no longer recognized the landmarks that were once so familiar. No, that's not the funny part. What was funny was that at the very same time, Kevy asked what road we were on and what the sign beside the road said. This cacophony of noise and conversation was brief but intense. Everytime I spoke to Kevin, Mom thought I was talking to her and demanded that I repeat myself. Kevin had this knack of simply not speaking until Mom was already talking and then I was listening to two at once.
(written last winter; not sure why I never posted it then)
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