The Alzheimer’s Struggle…

My grandfather had Alzheimer’s. Even when his mind was long gone and he had become violent, my grandmother refused to put him in an assisted living facility. Sometimes he’d crawl up on their roof, reliving his days of being a war pilot. Other times, he’d angrily hit her. But she simply couldn’t let him go.

I don’t remember a time when grandpa didn’t have Alzheimer’s. In my pre-teen mind, I do remember wondering why grandma didn’t send him away. I was completely confused as to why she put up with his antics.

My husband’s grandmother has suffered from Alzheimer’s for quite some time. She has progressed further and further, now to the point of barely being able to remember things longer than a 10 minute period. We went to their home yesterday and she asked over and over about our son. Was he a boy or girl, what was his name, whose baby was he. I answered every question as though it was the first time she asked it, understanding that she was being her sweet self. She may forget everything else, but she remembers what it was like to be the mother to an infant.

As I watched her watch my son, I figured out why grandma couldn’t send grandpa away and why Chris’ grandfather can’t either.

In our youth, we see hospitals and assisted living as temporary. They make us better and we move on. For the elderly, hospitals and assisted living is permanent. It’s the end.

I saw his grandma through his grandpa’s eyes. No more Easter Sunday’s. No more holding hands after dinner. No more sitting side by side while watching the evening news. It won’t get better.

As I crawled in my bed last night, slipped my arm around my husband’s waist, and snuggled my face into the back of his neck, I realized I couldn’t say goodbye either. For the first time, I finally understood my grandmother’s decision. I’d want to hold on for as long as I could possibly hold on.

Alzheimer’s sucks.

A Ride on the Short Bus...

I get e-mails every day from the ‘What to Expect’ website. I signed up while pregnant to see the weekly progress of the baby development but didn’t realize this service would extend past the birth. At first, this seemed like a great idea. I could see what to expect my child to be doing, important milestones, etc.

Seemed.

Seemed like a good idea.

It ISN’T a good idea.

Now all I’m concerned with is how SLOW my kid is. The actual website says my kid is right on track, the other mother’s on the message boards? They have me feeling as though I should make my kid wear a helmet, apply for state aid for his disabilities, and research special needs schools.

“My kid is walking!”

“My son is reading!”

“My daughter can recite the alphabet!”

“My son is looking into colleges!”

Meanwhile, my kid is still working on not choking on his own spit.

I’d like to reach through the computer and punch those moms.

Today, I received an article titled, ‘Is My Baby Gifted?’ outlining 6 signs to look for to determine whether or not your kid is a genius. “Maybe my kid is!” I thought. “Maybe all those other mothers are nuts!”

Ummmm…

Is My Baby Gifted?

Wonder if your baby is a budding genius? Here are six signs to look for.

Is he always ahead of the game? Does he do everything early, meeting developmental milestones well before his peers? Does he have a very good memory?

Well… his memory isn’t truly great. He’ll start crying then suddenly stop and look around confused as if he forgot the reason he started crying in the first place. I have no idea where he got that from. I never go into the kitchen and, oh hey, scissors! I need to cut the box open in the dining room. Wait. Why am I in the kitchen?

Is he a good problem-solver? Gifted babies may show off their creativity and originality by tackling a challenge in a surprising way.

He realized he needs both hands to crawl. When he wants to get somewhere and take a toy with him, he puts it in his mouth and crawls there… but then again, my dog does that too.

Does he make connections? Can he take knowledge he's learned in one situation and apply it to another?

My son figured out how to blow snot bubbles and laughs hysterically when he farts. Genius? Probably not. But my husband thinks it’s a great party trick.

Does he have trouble sleeping? In a gifted baby, this could mean he has a hard time dialing down on the stimulation so he can get some z's.

Baby boy has NO problems sleeping… but I do. Does that count?!?

If your baby does show many of these signs, he may well be gifted.

Great. The message boards will be all aflutter about all the future geniuses. At least Cash is really, really good looking. When brains fail, at least looks can pull you through. I mean really, does anyone listen when Brad Pitt talks?

Keeping Secrets

Don't tell my husband but I'm keeping a huge secret.

Hubby takes care of everything he owns. He meticulously scrubs, oils, and maintains his tools. He lovingly puts them each in their own 'home'.

Unfortunately, he is the same with kitchen tools... our pots and pans included.

Me? Unless it's technology, I beat it up. Pots and pans? Yeah, them too.

So when hubby read the fine print on our pots and pans that said, 'NOT DISHWASHER SAFE', he told me to never put them in the dishwasher lest I wash off their teflon.

As a tired mommy, oh who am I kidding, LONG before I became a tired mommy, I was a tired working lady. A tired working lady who HATES hand washing dishes. I mean really, why the heck else were dishwashers invented?

So, while hubby slaves away working nights or going to school at nights, I...

oh man, I shouldn't admit this...

I put the pots and pans in the dishwasher.

Yeah.

In the morning, I sprint from bed and throw the pots under the stove, pretending they haven't been scoured by our mechanical cleaning machine.

This morning, I forgot I put his precious pans in the 'evil' dishwasher so while he told me about his day after work, I told him to sit on the couch, kick his feet up and I'd bring him a drink.

"Oh honey, you deserve a break and I love you so much" I said, sweat dripping from my forehead hoping he wouldn't catch my lie. I practically tripped over our rug while bringing him his beer, running back into the kitchen to throw the pans in the cabinet.

He didn't catch me this time (actually, he thought I was awesome for being such a cool wife bringing him beer)...

but eventually...

he'll catch me and...

I'll pretend it's the first time.

By the way, the teflon looks fine.

Thanks a lot baby…

The last few mornings it’s been a little chilly (I’ll ignore the snickers from my family back east). I’m back down to my pre-pregnancy weight but my ‘re-organized’ body can’t fit into my pre-pregnancy pants quite right so I wear dresses because I’m WAY too cheap to buy new pants. Since I work on the coast, I deal with the icy wind off the water in the mornings. I stare with envy at those wearing nice wool pants as they scurry into the building.

This morning, I darted into our building, shivering as I pressed the elevator button. A woman wearing thick slacks asked me why I dared to wear a skirt in this weather.

“Well, I had a baby and I can’t quite squeeze into my pre-pregnancy pants yet” I said with a smile.

“How long ago did you have your baby?” she asked.

Clearly this lady is childless or too many years have passed since she gave birth. The proper response should be, “Well you look great!” - even if the person doesn’t. I’m aware that my chest sits 3 inches lower, my hips are wider, and my chin is a double. Lying to women post-pregnancy doesn’t count. There’s an asterisk in my Bible on the 10 commandments near the ‘Thou shalt not lie’. It says *except to pregnant women or women who have given birth in the last year… well two (I may need to buy a little more time).

“8 Mo…er… weeks ago” I lied through gritted teeth.

I also believe that lying in response to stupid questions is perfectly acceptable as well.

Lotto Dreams...

I've never played the lotto before but based in the record setting jackpot, I figured I'd take a stab at it.

Problem? I don't know how to play. Sure, I could go into the local 7-11 and ask for help (if that is in fact where they sell lotto tickets) but I don't want to look like a rookie. So... I enlisted the help of a co-worker.

"Which one do you want?" she asked.

"There's more than one!?!?"

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the Mega Millions number selecting paper. She explained how to choose numbers and how to make the machine choose the numbers for you. Then she went in to how to repeat numbers for draws at a later date...

my eyes started to glaze.

This required way more effort than I expected.

We finally got around to actually selecting the numbers - which took forever. I picked enough for one ticket, got tired, and made the machine pick the rest.

As I pulled out a crisp $5 bill for the guy behind the counter, all I could think was how much I'd rather have spent it on rolled tacos and a Pepsi. Clearly I won't be needing to call gamblers anonymous anytime in the near future.

Hubby bought tickets as well. We talked about what we would do with the money. Buy homes, give a huge chunk to charity, move part time to Italy, help family...

then we started arguing about how much we'd give to family, then arguing about where we'd live in Italy, then arguing about whether or not we'd buy a house in Hawaii.

It's not like we starting throwing stuff... er... sharp stuff... um... we didn't throw anything too sharp.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! We didn't even win yet and we're arguing over it?!? Isn't our marriage worth more than 650 million dollars!!??" I yelled.

...

...

...

Chris stayed silent.

That's when I started throwing the sharp stuff.

I'm Back!

Life has only gotten better since I was last here. Our debt is gone, I've changed jobs and been promoted a few times, had a wonderful baby boy, and I'm still head over heels for my guy.

The biggest change, our bouncing baby boy, has caused us to look at our life goals a little closer and encouraged us to make some big decisions.

Hubby has wanted to open up his handyman/remodel business for years and has decided to take a leap in that direction. We ponied up nearly $1000 for his contractor's license school and testing fees.

Our next step is to save 8 - 10K as an emergency buffer for the lean months. He has a renewed energy doing odd jobs to save that money. I didn't realize how passionate he was about having a company of his own and wish I would have been more encouraging a long time ago.

We also decided we are on a 4 year and 4 month countdown. If we aren't successful enough to become a single income supported family in 4 years and 4 months, we're moving out of San Diego. Why the odd timeline? Because it's important to me that our son be homeschooled and he's 4 years and 4 months from his 5th birthday.

Things that haven't changed? My husband's inability to sit still. At home or at work, he's always working to make things better. I've got a giant unfinished hole in my kitchen wall and a halfway plastered wall in my dining room (more on that later) but in the end... I know it will look amazing because everything he does turns out that way and I guess that's why I'm confident we'll still be here in 4 years and 4 months.

I'm Coming Back...

Well, in a few months anyway. I'm finishing up my other writing gig and will be returning soon!