Oh, Cletus…

Okay, so Cleuts didn’t work out so well. He was loving (to me and Maggie) and lazy, but what I really wanted was a buddy for Phillip Marlowe, and that was NOT happening. I’m sure I should have known better and all of that, but on first visit they really liked one another. It’s like dating, I suppose. You just never know.

So, in order to soothe Magnolia, I ended up sleeping in her bed. I slept really well actually, and I think she did too. Of course there were tears, but it’s moments like this that make me proud of my kids for being strong of heart and recognizing that we are a family. Even though Cletus was perfect for Maggie and me, he wasn’t right for Eleanor and Josh and Phillip Marlowe. I have a special place in my heart for bravery and sacrifice, I suppose. And I love it when I see it in my kids. So, the house has gone back to being a much more peaceful place. I think Cletus’s new home will be just right.

And this is just in time for me to get the kids started in their new schools, and start my new job.

I started this blog nearly a year ago now with the theme of beginnings. I always nod my head a little when I think about all the starting-overs that this little family has endured. We can’t seem to help it. And even though it’s hard, I rather like it that way.

The Best Meal I Ever Had

I’ve only been out of the country twice, and I’m not including Canada. Both times I traveled, I went to Mexico. Most recently (2006), I went to Oaxaca and Hautulco. Josh lived in Oaxaca as a young boy, and it was a fabulous trip for the family to see a bit of his boyhood. Let no one ever tell you that traveling with kids or in-laws can’t be fantastic. Josh’s dad is fluent in Spanish and knew the area, which made the trip great! On one particular outing, we’d rented a taxi bus to take about 10 of us into the mountains to an aquarium. On the way back, Bob asked the driver to find us a great place to eat.

The driver pulled over to a cliff-side shack where a few tables and hammocks were under a canopy. There were (I think) five choices for a meal. No menu. We were the only customers. And that’s where I had the most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten in my life. It included a fish cooked whole on my plate. And oh so much deliciousness. The only thing wrong was that Josh had stayed behind with a sick kiddo and missed sharing it with me.

Have you ever seen the movie (1998) After Life? I linked the trailer there, if you want to see the preview. Anyway, it’s a touching movie. The premise revolves around choosing one memory to live in for all your eternity. It really fascinated me, and occasionally I’ll get lost in thinking about which memory of mine I would choose to stay in forever. The memory of pulling up to this shack and eating such a simple meal with such a grand view, is definitely a front-runner. It’s imperfect, like I said. And the truth is, I haven’t found the memory yet that I’d want to stay in forever. Could you pick one?

So, what got me thinking about all this was a Guatemalan restaurant GUATELINDA that Josh and I recently found. I ordered the fish, and it came to the table looking exactly like the one I ate in Mexico. Not as good as in my memory, but a reeeeeeeeally good restaurant. I can’t wait to go back, actually.

Stuck

I took an unintended vacation from the blog this week. I’ve been feeling a little paralyzed by the routine. Wake. Work. Home. Sleep. I can’t seem to get enough sleep. Wake. Work. Home. Movie with the kids because that is all I have energy for. Sleep. It doesn’t leave much to blog about.

Except work. Work seems to flip-flop from the funny to the sad. This week was a sad one.

Situation A: When only one mate in a couple has memory loss that requires more assistance than you can give, choices have to made. Would you live with your mate in the facility? Or, would you choose to live at home and visit frequently? After seeing both scenarios, I can honestly say that I don’t know what I’d do. Since I’ve started work I’ve closely watched one of the couples who live together – mostly because I have to make sure the Mrs. doesn’t wander out the front door. But also, the dynamic is telling. The Mr. bosses the Mrs. repeatedly. His voice is loud and commanding. Sometimes he swears at her. The Mrs. is tiny. Her mouth needs to be against your ear if you want to have any hope of hearing her. Mostly she mumbles gibberish anyway. I have to make sure to greet her first when they pass through the lobby; otherwise she’ll get jealous that I’m talking to the Mr. The Mr. is losing sleep at night because the Mrs. is prone to wandering, or maybe he just fears it. I’m not sure. Yesterday, the Mr. was yelling at the Mrs. to follow him back to their suite. She didn’t want to go, but couldn’t express where she wanted to go. I tried to explain to the Mr. that he should go on back to the room while we did an activity with the Mrs. He couldn’t let go of his responsibility to her and kept demanding that she follow him. The facility director intervened and finally encouraged the Mr. to go take a break, nap if he wanted to. When he finally gave in, and the Mrs. was distracted, you could see the relief in him. He thanked the director effusively and then said, “She’s really going downhill. I’m losing her.”

Situation B: A new resident moved in. This is the first new person to move in since I’ve started working. Apparently it’s typical for a new resident to be extraordinarily needy. I didn’t realize this. This woman refuses to stay in her room alone. Her sister spent the night with her the first night. The sister lives in the Independent Living side of the building and is known for being a hermit. Many had never seen her until the day her sister had moved in to the Assisted Living building. Now I see more of the sister and the new resident than anyone else in the building. The sister is clearly exhausted. We have been trying to get her to go on home and rest while encouraging both of them that the new resident will okay without her sister. When the sister finally does go home for a bit, the new resident sits by my desk and tells me how she misses home. I try to steer the conversation away from that and when I think she’s distracted from missing home, I encourage her to let me wheel her back to her room. She says, “I’ll only go if you stay with me.” I like this woman. She’s spunky and lonely and frightened. We stay together at my desk until meal time or until the sister comes back. I finally spoke to the care managers about her. This is when they informed me that the transitions are usually pretty rough. But then they told me that this woman’s doctor had given her about 6 months to live. “The reason she doesn’t want to be alone in her room is because all she thinks about is dying.”

I think that all this should make me appreciate youth. And sisters. And husbands. And earning enough money to, if needed, some day afford a facility that has the amenities ours does. But I’m not sure it does make me appreciate all that. I really don’t mean to be morose or short-sighted, but I think it just makes me sad for these people. Somehow assigning meaning to the sadness or trying to learn from it just feels dumb. 

This Used To Be My Playground

Last week when the kids were away, I had one of those flashbulb memories as I was relearning how Marsh organizes their groceries on the aisles. I still think like I’m in Polly’s Country Market. But, as I passed an island of baked goods in the produce area, I spotted something altogether heart-warming: Roslyn’s Bakery pecan tea cookies. There cute as can be, shaped like little gears about the size of a silver dollar with a big dollop of pink or white icing in the middle. I bought them even though they were not in my budget.

As the sweetness crumbled over my tongue, memories of going to Roslyn’s with my mom were every bit as rich and strong as those little cookies. She used to take me there after my dentist appointments, cavities or no cavities. As a kid, I loved this irony. Take that, you mean ol’ dentist! Ha! I’m eating cookies! She would occasional indulge, too. She’d always get a chocolate eclair. As a diabetic, she was very careful about when she’d indulge, and there was something special about watching her eat sweets. So as I ate my little tea cookies, I did what I do when I’m alone with my food and can’t compliment the baker. I clapped. I couldn’t decide if it was the memory that was the most delicious part of the experience. Or maybe it was that this will stay tucked away as a memory, since Roslyn’s is no more. Somewhere between my childhood and adulthood, the storefronts all shut down. I even tried  to find a photo on the Internet, but couldn’t. It’s funny; I know that if I hadn’t had those cookies as a child, then I would have been like, these are expensive cookies and they’re tiny and too rich!

Day 27

Every day is different. That is a fact. The first thing they said was, “There’s no manual for this job.” I’m not a person that needs her ducks in a row, though. And, I like that I don’t know what’s coming. Thankfully this week the scale has balanced the sad and wacky. (At least, so far.)

Here are a few things I did yesterday at work:

1. Convince a resident that my co-worker (of Puerto-Rican descent and born in the Bronx) was not Amish.
2. Convince same resident that Red Robin did not serve Amish food.
3. Comfort a resident in tears, who wanted to spend more of her day with her daughter.
4. Tell the firemen/EMT’s which room to attend to.
5. Help a resident figure out how to access his E-harmony account.
6. Talk about the price of gas in the 1950’s. (Did you know they used to give incentives out to attract return customers? Like dishes and toasters.)
7. Watch someone explain to a resident that she’s been married for about 40 years.
8. Receive a compliment from my favorite resident.
9. Wonder which resident was most like my future self. (I blame you, Teffeny. Putting ideas in my head!)
10. Eat a cookie for lunch.

How was your day?

What Lies Ahead

I’m often guilty of the-grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side kind of mentality. Probably you know this if you read my blog posts regularly. I spent a long time not knowing what I wanted to do in life career-wise; and at 35, I now feel a little rushed to get out there and make my mark. I know there will be a time when I don’t have to work full-time, which is an opportunity many writers will never get. So, I’m trying to appreciate that more.

Still, that 40-hour work week leaves me with this constant question: With my me-time, do I read or write? It’s like when I had little babies, and they’d finally go down for a nap. That time was so delicious, I would almost ruin it with panic. Do I read, nap, or do laundry????? I rarely picked laundry. But that’s how I get with my weekends now, too. (Except he kids do the laundry. Score.)

I’ve been writing recently, obviously, but also trying to read a lot. I almost always read YA novels, as it is a study of what’s out there, what’s working, and what can I do to contribute, etc. Still, my to-read list is piling up! There are so many books I want to read (not including the ones I’m saving for later) that I’ve never gotten around to. I’ve started Story Time by Edward Bloor twice. I still haven’t gotten to it. Same with Wuthering Heights and Catch-22. I SWEAR someday I’m going to read those books!

What about you? What have put off reading that you really want to?

Self-Deprecating Sunday (25)

The Father’s Day edition.

King’s Island in the mid-nineties. Dad and I took on “The Racer,” front car. Not exactly the park’s scariest roller-coaster, but for me it was a big moment. I came prepared by wearing my sister’s Les Jesus t-shirt. With the big Daddy at my chest and my own dad at my side, I knew I was going to be okay. And I was! I had a blast!

Thanks to Dad for always encouraging me to be bold, be myself, and to enjoy the ride. Happy Father’s Day!  I love you.

Meet Colonel Mustard

The chair!  Remember how I so badly needed one? It’s finally here!  I think I’ll name it Colonel Mustard. (In the LIBRARY with the … oh you can’t see it, but there’s a candlestick behind the chair.  Now, I just need more books, Books, BOOKS! Whose book shall I read first in this wicked smart chair (Possibly while having a cigar)? Why, Christy Raedeke’s Prophecy of Days I, of course! I cannot wait. Last night I finished Erin McCahan’s I Now Pronounce You Someone Else, and it’s going on my favorites shelf, then when she signs it, I’ll move it to that shelf. Heeeeeee, I’m just downright giddy! Hooray for YA authors.

There’s More Than Corn in Indiana

Transitions can be unpredictable. But the process is kind of predictable, I guess. It’s like the sadness needs to come out of me in order to make way for the new fun stuff, and the WTF stuff of moving into a new house.  Let’s take it in fives. Sadness: I cried five times while moving.

1. Saying goodbye to my work friends
2. Realizing I would not be selling my YA book before Josh became a doctor
3. When Josh took down the hammock
4. Saying goodbye to Lisa and Evan
5. Crossing the Michigan/Indiana border

It’s funny what triggers the tears, no? Eleanor got sad when her favorite radio station got fuzzy and we started losing reception. Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” was playing at the time. She noted that it was the perfect song to go out on. I agree, a great ending.

So, now we are here. We are Hoosiers. It is day four, and the WTF is in full force. There are five problems with the house.

1. Half of the electricity in the upstairs bathroom is out
2. The air-conditioning downstairs is out
3. One sink in the downstairs bathroom doesn’t work
4. The library is missing a big comfy chair
5. The dog is terrified of grates, and refuses to go into the kids’ rooms

Small things. And please don’t get me wrong; I adore the house. So enough of the sad and negative. On with the GOOD! My five fun, and most favorite things are:

1. The shower is a porn director’s dream! Nine or so people could get in there. And there are so many shower heads (5) that I’m still learning how to work them. It’s crazy in there! I accidently found the button that made the shower head pop off. (I’m speaking quite literally here, btw.) That was an adventure for sure because shower water coming directly out of a hose kind of stings.
2. We have more technology than I understand, but I’m anxious to train. (I just flashed to the Modern Family episode where Phil is guiding Claire on how to set the thermostat: “The snowflake on the box means cold, cold, cold…”)
3. I have a library! Not an office, but a library. There are built in bookshelves and lots of windows. Despite what Josh says, it’s not the fart room. It’s the LIBRARY. The LIBRARY, I tell you!
4. The backyard has a fence, so Phillip Marlowe can sniff out all kinds of new flavors of trouble without the annoyance of being tied up. (Or the worry of attack air vents)
5. Location, location, location. Butler, the zoo, my job, the childrens museum, Broadripple Village, and about two blocks from the house, there’s a cupcake store next to a children’s bookstore. I will be making some purchases for the LIBRARY (including an author-signed copy of Will Grayson Will Grayson – well, at least the John Green portion of the authorship). I’m also very excited to have heard Josh say more than once, “I think I can really like Indianapolis.” This was soon after discovering “Hank’s Brisket.”

Bonus fun fact: Both kids got into magnet school programs! Eleanor will go to an arts magnet where she’ll focus on media arts. Magnolia will go to the environmental studies magnet, and hopefully embrace some hippie values among other things like how to save the earth. I’ll leave it up her now.  The school grounds are fascinating, and I am thrilled it has inspired a scene in my WIP. Perhaps more on that tomorrow. I have a renewed sense of go-after-it-ness since much of the novel is set in Indianapolis, something I had planned long before moving here. It’s been months since I’ve written more than cover letters and resumes, and how can I resist writing in the LIBRARY, which is NOT a fart room?

Indeed, “Every little thing is going to be all right.”