When You Become the Guardian of Your Parents - Something Ain't Right!

Lawd what a week this has been. Yesterday I blogged about the Dadeville Healthcare Center and my parents(duh bet that was a surprise huh? I mean I have been telling you parent stories for how long now?)...today I am feeling that you know something ain't right when you become the guardian of your parents. It is just not normal for the roles to be reversed this far....but guardianship is what I am seeking. Back after their disappearance I went to a local lawyer to see what I could do to get some kind of power of attorney for my parents. He was so nice and told us what all would have to be done and said he would get right on it. Welll....more than a month passed...He never returned my calls....and most of the time his line was busy. Now I am at a point of desperation. My parents truly need a guardian....so I called our local Probate Judge, Gloria Sinclair, and asked her what to do. She told me who to call....I did....had an appointment the next day....within 24 hours had Emergency Temporary Guardianship....and working on full Guardianship. Now, how come he couldn't do that? I have never in my life had to use a lawyer...even when I got a divorce...he had a lawyer...I just went in and signed. I guess lawyers sometimes don't realize that the cases they are taking on....are real people....with real needs....and real feelings. I had needs and they were urgent and current. My view of lawyers because of this is a bit skewed...and I guess that is how we all take stands on things in our lives...by how it has touched us...or someone we know and love. Life is amazing. Don't you think?

Currently I'm....

Currently....I’m trying not to freak out over the fact that a bee is in the house. It keeps trying to dive bomb me and I’m protecting myself with a broom—hold on, while I was writing this, the damn thing tried to attack me again. I’m all, “Shoo shoo!” while swinging my broom and the bee seems to be AMUSED by this…



Currently....I’m not amused that we’ve already had some snow fall. Didn’t summer just end? And how are bees still alive?



Currently....I’m a little embarrassed on having to fib to the cashier at Wal-Mart. She noticed all the food I was buying and was all, “Oh, are you going to a party?” and before I could think, I blurted, “No, a wedding actually.” It’s because I have the Pam and Jim wedding (from The Office) in my head. I can’t wait to watch it tonight. I mean, I guess technically I’m going to a wedding…sort of…but anyhow, the cashier believed me and went, “How wonderful!” and I went, “Yes! It is!” Here’s some of what I bought...and I wish I could say I bought those Monster Cakes purely for the kids but I got excited over the blue icing…and those apple pies are Tom's "pie things" that he's obsessed with. Whenever I go to Wal-Mart I MUST pick up his pie things.



Currently...I’m thinking that Natalie will never potty train. I’m trying, I really am. But the little minx refuses to go in the toilet. Oh, but the second she goes in her diaper she wants the thing off. So I say, “If this bothers you, just use the potty!” and she’s all, “No thanks.” Of course the other day she teased me and said she had to pee and went to the potty…and I thought, “Here it comes! Her first pee!” but then all she did was fart at it and run off.

Currently....wondering where all my Reeses Peanut Cups have gone. Oh right, my stomach..

Currently....wishing I could finish my book. It’s the sequel to The Deep End of the Ocean. It’s called No Time To Wave Goodbye. Very good so far.

Currently....I really want to take away the toy piano from Natalie. It’s giving me a headache. I keep having fantasies about hurling it out the window. I know music is supposed to mold a child's brain and all that jazz but holy crap, can't music be QUIETER?



Currently....I’m aching to go on this cruise. (It’s a Titanic cruise if clicking on a link is not your thing.) But it’s expensive. Like $4000 per person expensive. Maybe even more because when I checked the site, all the “cheap” rooms are already sold out. However, I’ve always been interested in the Titanic. Even before Leonardo DiCaprio shouted that he was king of the world. I have to go on this cruise. Maybe they’d let me sleep in the closet? I crunched the numbers and I went, “Tom! I figured out how we can go on the cruise!” and he went, “How?” and I said, “We just won’t be able to eat for a year…” and he gave me a Look. Then I went, “Why can’t your uncle be George Clooney?” and he replied, “EXCUSE me?” and I explained, “If your uncle were George Clooney, he’d probably buy us tickets as a Christmas present. This stinks.” Then I was all, “Maybe I could be a maid on the ship and some rich guy will save me and sweep me in his arms---” and Tom cut in with, “You do realize that you’re married, right?” Right. I know. I was just, you know, fantasizing. But yeah. I really need to go on this cruise. I even told Tom that he didn’t have to come, therefore it would only be my fare and he was all, “Um, I’m not about to let my wife wander alone on a cruise ship that sank in 1912.” Then Tom went, “Wait, on the site it says that it’s an English cruise with English food.” And he made a face because when we were in England for three years, we weren’t quite impressed with the food. The Yorkshire Pudding really freaked Tom out. But who cares about EATING, this could totally be our delayed honeymoon! We never got one.

And...it's not until April 2012 and you can pay off a portion every year. So maybe...maybe? (Would still be easier if Tom's uncle were George Clooney though.)

Dadeville Healthcare Center

Today is Thursday and I went in to work...but did not stay. By 9:00 the Dadeville Healthcare Center people, Hospice, and the Lakeshore Community Hospital(where my parents were) had all called to tell me they were moving my parents to the Healthcare Center today at lunch and I needed to be there. I had forwarned my boss and his Administrative Assistant that this MIGHT happen....WHEW! I called downstairs and gave them a heads-up, went into Substitute plans mode, and prepared to leave school for the rest of the day. I picked up Frank enroute and we drove to Dadeville for the big move. When I got to the hospital I talked with my mom about what was happening...somewhat. I told her that Daddy needed some extra special care and that the hospital was sending him to the Healthcare Center and that they arranged for her to go too....I omitted the part that she was GOING too. We all have views of things because of things that we have experienced...or someone we love or know has experienced and I am no different. When I was a teenager I worked for a real-estate agent in Florida. Our office was next door to a nursing home facility. I used to park and walk by their open windows and have them call out to me in their little frail voices..."Help Me! They are hurting me! They are burning me!" One day...I got to work and shortly after I had arrived the F.B.I raided the place....and guess what...they were being hurt, burned, malnourished. They took all the little residents and placed them in other nursing homes...but the mark was there. Shortly after this incident my sweet neighbor Dobby and her sister Barty were placed. I was getting married and Dobby was not going to be able to attend my wedding...so I took my dress to them...modeled it in the cafeteria....for Dobby, Barty, and a host of little ancients I had never met. They were so excited and I loved being able to do this for them...but one of the little ladies never uttered a word. I asked the Director about her...and she told me that she was one of the transfers from the raided nursing home. She had been scalded many times...and had never spoken since she got there....so...do you think I have a colored view of nursing homes? You bet you bottom dollar...and here my parents are going. I have been beside myself this week...well...we got them placed...and I stayed long enough to see them both settled, feed my dad lunch, love on them both and then I had to go. I guess I got home around 3:00. I believe in my heart that this is best of them. I know it is best for my dad...he is past the stage of being taken care of at home...but it does not make it any easier...I have feelings of failure...My head knows we are doing the right thing...but once again my heart is in a quandry....darn that rascally heart. I wish it would get with the program!

The Broken Headphones

So there I was, minding my own business as I vacuumed. I may have even been singing. Off key, naturally, but at least no one else could hear thanks to the roar of the vacuum.

I started cleaning around the computer desk and made a face when I came across one of Tom’s toenails. I’m sorry, but that’s disgusting. You don’t pick your nails and then toss it on the ground. I also sucked up various crumbs—those didn’t just belong to Tom. I admit, I’m not the neatest eater so some of those crumbs—mmm, one came from a Swiss Cake Roll—were mine.

And then it happened. The vacuum got too close to the cords that Tom leaves out on the floor and sucked one up. I heard the sickening snapping sound and knew that it was probably a goner.

“NOOOOO!” I shouted, dramatically dropping to my knees. I knew exactly what the cord was from: the headphones that Tom uses to play his online game. And these aren’t just regular earphones: these are microphone earphones so he can converse with other players. If they were regular earphones then it wouldn’t have been a problem: I have a set that I found for Target for 75% off waiting in the closet. But these were his special earphones.

Crap.

I thought maybe, just maybe, that the cord would be okay.

I started pulling the cord out gently and then saw that oops, it had totally broken apart.

See:





For a brief second I went, “Maybe I could TAPE it back together,” but I quickly realized that was a silly idea.

I knew I had to call Tom. I knew waiting until he saw the headphones on his own was a bad idea.

Maybe I could blame it on Natalie! And when Tom discovers the broken headphones I can be all, ‘That silly girl!’”

Of course then Natalie would be a mini Hercules if she could yank apart the cord. And then suppose Tom thinks she’s super strong and enters her in a Strong Baby contest and is baffled when Natalie can’t pull apart the string. He’ll be all, “But she ripped my cord with her bare hands!” and I’ll have to admit what I’ve done…

So I knew I had to tell him. I pulled out my cell phone and sent him a text message since he was still at work:

I broke ur headphones...I love u!

Five minutes later the phone rang.

It was Tom.

“Well hi there, handsome!” I said cheerfully.

“Did you break my headphones?” Tom demanded.

“Me? I didn’t break them per say. The vacuum did. That darn Dyson with all its massive vacuum strength,” I babbled.

“Are my headphones broken?” Tom tried again.

I sucked in my breath. “Well....” I stared at the shriveled cord. “Yes..”

Tom sighed. “I have a game planned tonight. I need those.”

I swallowed. “Well…”

“You owe me,” Tom fumed.

What does THAT mean? Sex, probably.

“Of course, of course,” I agreed. “Look, I’m going to the store tomorrow, I can pick you up another set.”

“Do you know what set I need?” Tom wondered.

Well. “Headphones. With a microphone!” I said happily.

Tom groaned. “You can’t just get any headphones with a microphone,” he told me.

You can’t?

“You can’t?” I asked.

“No. You can’t. You don’t know which ones I need. The ones that I had probably aren’t even made anymore. You don’t know what to look for,” Tom complained.

“So tell me! Let me find a piece of paper and a pen and you can tell me,” I said and then looked around for some paper and a pen. I really need to clean our kitchen counters. It’s piled with old mail and coupons and…what in the world? Is that an Andes Mint? Mmmm, Andes Mints…

“Look, we’ll just go to the store when I get home from work. I need the headphones tonight,” Tom said. “And you owe me,” he said again before he hang up.

So we went to the store when he came home and he couldn’t find what he needed. I found a pair of headphones and went, “Here you go!” and he looked them over and said, “Not what I need, Amber…”

“But..it has a microphone and it says it’s for gaming,” I said, pointing to the box.

“These aren’t right,” Tom argued.

He’s probably going to order a set online. When we got home he messaged his friends and said he wouldn’t be on his game for awhile. (I imagine he typed: “Wife Broke Headphone. Wife Owes Me. Wink Wink”)

And then he came and sat on the couch and stared at me because he needed to be entertained.

“Isn’t this a good show?” I asked, gesturing to the TV, hoping that he’d stop staring. And then when he wasn’t staring he’d be pacing the room as though he were searching for something. He’d pad into the kitchen, come back out into the living room, circle the living room, go back into the kitchen, head down the hall, come back into the kitchen and into the living room and back to the couch....where he’d sit and stare for a bit and then he’d get up and do the pacing thing all over again.

“What IS this show?” Tom wondered, making a face.

I was watching 18 Kids and Counting and was wondering how Michelle’s uterus hasn’t fallen out yet.

“You know. It’s about that family with all the kids.”

Tom looked horrified. “I’d lose my mind if I had all those kids.”

And then he got up and started to pace again.

We need those headphones.

Now.

Fact Vs Opinion

“What’s up, buddy? You look upset,” I said to my son Tommy the other night. He had a homework page in front of him and he was thumping his pencil against it angrily.

“I don’t understand this,” he whined, pushing the paper away.

I went over to look at the page and saw it was about Fact and Opinion. On the top part you had to circle if the statement was fact or opinion. And then you had to write your own fact and opinion.

“So you don’t know the difference?” I wondered as my husband Tom walked in and peered down at the paper.

“Oh, that’s easy! For your fact, write “My Mom buys too many clothes for me!” Tom said cheerfully as he took a big bite from an apple.

I was not amused.

“Excuse me? I don’t think the kids have too much. That would be an opinion,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.

“It’s a fact. I can prove it. Come on,” Tom said and started heading up the stairs.

Tommy and I exchanged a glance but then followed him. Tom was standing in front of Tommy’s closet and he threw it open and gestured with his free hand. “Wa-lah! Too much!”

Tommy’s brows furrowed.

I waved a hand in the air. “I disagree. That’s an opinion. This is probably nothing compared to rich people. They probably have walk in closets for their kids. This closet is tiny.” I stared at Tommy. “So this would be an opinion.”

Tommy’s nose wrinkled.

“But…here’s a fact for you: You can write ‘My Daddy is a slob,’” I added with a sharp nod.

Now it was Tom’s turn to make a face. “Excuse me? I just did the dishes last night,” he argued.

“Come with me, Tommy,” I said and headed for our bedroom.

Both boys followed at my heels. I pointed to a pair of Tom’s underwear and socks that were thrown right BESIDE the laundry basket. I’ve never understood this. Why can’t he take the extra time and throw them IN the laundry basket? Why are things always BESIDE the laundry basket?

“So you can write, ‘My Daddy is a slob,’ because this is proof,” I said, shoving Tom’s disgusting sock with my toe.

“I disagree! This is an opinion. All wives aren’t anal like you are and wouldn’t mind scooping their husband’s clothes up after he’s had a long day at work,” Tom said, sticking his tongue out at me. There were apple bits on it. Gross.

“Tommy, you can also write, “My Daddy has bad manners,’” I suggested.

Tommy looked at Tom, then at me, and then back to Tom. “I’m confused,” he admitted.

“Write, ‘My Mommy goes shopping too much!’” Tom shouted right as I yelled, “Write ‘My Daddy is a slob!’”

Tom and I were so busy bickering that we didn’t even realize that Tommy had left.

“Where did he go?” I asked Tom.

He shrugged and finished up his apple. “I don’t know.”

We headed downstairs and found Tommy at the table.

“I’m going to write, ‘My Mommy and Daddy confuse me,’” he told us.

Oh.

Granny McCain

My Granny McCain lived with my grandparents in her later years. She was a pistol ball. Everyone needs a great grandmother like this one. She was a straight razor toting kind of woman with a viporish tongue. I have a memory of her that is funny now...I am sure it was not so funny when it happened...especially to my grandmother. When I was about 5 or 6, Terri would have been 4 - 5, Amanda 3 -4 and another grandchild was involved...I just can't remember which one. My granny McCain had this trunk in her room at my grandmother's house full of stuff little girls like...old dresses, gloves, hats, pictures...you know little girl plundering stuff. Anyways...we were not allowed in her room unless she invited us in....and we were all standing at the door...longing for an invitation to plunder in the trunk. She sat in her chair...and smiled at us....she knew we were there...but she did not invite us in straight on. Finally, after the puppy dog looks...she held up some chocolate...and asked us if we wanted some. We all said yes and rushed to her side for a piece of the prized chocolate bar. It tasted heavenly. Back in my day...chocolate and cokes were special treats...now they are something kids expect everyday. We all ate the chocolate square and asked if we could have another one. Granny doled out another square around...patted us on our heads and sent us outside to play so she could take a nap. It did not take long for the CHOCOLATE to do its magic...and all of us were very sick. My grandmother's house only had one bathroom...and we were all in it. Two of us were sitting on pails and one on the toilet. I cannot remember ever being so sick. My grandmother did not know about the chocolate treat we had had...and when she found out...she was furious with my grandmother...who sat in her chair and looked very indignant because she was being fussed at. Moral of the story...it may look like chocolate, taste like chocolate...but beware...it may be Ex-Lax in disguise.

Creek Mother

Turquoise, I believe you to be. Indian features tell of Indian ancestry. Turquoise, blue-green colors, blended expertly together to form one. Just like you and dad. Turquoise, bright and beautifyl, laced with silver. Your silver hair laces your face; beautiful to behold. Each turquoise stone is as unique as you are. Creek mother or gitano, whoever you are, turquoise is the color of your very being. Turquoise, I believe you to be, my very favorite stone.