The Back Story

That sounds SO L.A.

I figure it’s better if I just tell you what’s going on.

Shaun and I are both at the age where our parents have become elderly without our permission.

I keep telling my mom she’s only 45, which, while it would put her younger than me, is how she is stuck in my I’m-Her-Kid memory.  My mom says, “I wish”.  Both sets of parents have been relatively healthy until this summer.  Shaun’s parents went through separate medical crises and ended up in separate hospitals on the east coast. They are both doing better at the moment.  Shaun had only been home a week when my dad started to fail.  He’s now out of intensive care, and in a rehab facility, but there is some question as to if he will make it out of there.  Fortunately, my parents only live a couple hours away from us.

So we are driving a lot.  Our newer car decided this was completely unacceptable, stomped it’s tires, and quit.  Our older car rolled it’s headlights and said “I told you I was your favorite.”

We have family staying with us (this is a blessing).

All of this excitement has whacked out the dog’s internal time organization.  He wants to sleep all day and chew all night.  Which would be acceptable if it involved his prolific collection of pristine chew toys.  (It doesn’t.)  I pulled a mangled moose out of his mouth at 2 am.  I believe his thinking goes like this: I killed it, therefore I should eat it’s guts.  EW….nasty white stringy stuff…ew ew ew.  Must masticate thoroughly, then barf all night.

See previous post about me following barfing dog all night with a roll of paper towels.   Yes.  We do put the stuffed animals out of reach.  Well, out of human reach.  Our nine inch tall dog has mysterious super powers that enable him to reach the top bunk bed.

Sorry, on a tangent here.

Clearly this is not the most important thing going on in our lives; but it’s one of the more humorous diversions.  Or would be if it weren’t for the sleep deprivation.  I believe the following report should sum up my functioning level nicely.  Daisy’s new iPhone arrived yesterday.  I knew this yesterday at 2 pm.  By 5 pm, I had no idea.  I sent her a random Pong text:

Jane: nothing happening.   hi.  no need to respond.

Daisy: are you kidding?  playing with new iphone.  keep txting.

Jane: holy cow, it’s here?  Yahoo!

Daisy: um. yeah.  super COOL.

Long pause while I remember I had this information 3 hours ago.  Oh wait.  Does this mean she has a new phone number?  Longer pause while my brain tries to work through this complicated equation. *smack forehead*

Jane: This is why you’re a VP and I vacuum:  I almost just texted  you to ask you if this means you have a new phone number.

That’s what’s up in our neck of the woods.  I’m afraid the only horses I’ve seen are those I’ve driven by at 60 mph.  The brainless example above should fill you in on my hesitancy to post anything at all.   If I do, I will be desperately trying to find the funny around me (maybe too desperately) and likely sound like a total whack.

Humor is good for survival and denial: two of my favorite tools in the Coping Box.

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10 thoughts on “The Back Story

  1. mtinnkeeper

    ooh.. talk about meet in the middle .. you are… blessings to you for being there for the whole “fam damily”

    gp

    Reply
  2. Andrew

    Jane: I have no consolation for aging parents. Mercifully mine are ticking along maybe even better than they were when they were working. Our truck, happily, just celebrated its first year of ownership with us without the need for any major work. Our younger dog, however, just came down with kennel cough. So, sleepless night syndrome is unfortunately familiar to us.

    all best
    Andrew

    Reply
    1. theliteraryhorse Post author

      Shhhhhhhhh!!
      Shaun’s already ewindow shopping for a new commute car. Lord a porsche with 2 teens ready for driver’s permits?? (Auntie Daisy, did you know you’re on the schedule for driver’s practice duty?)I’m thinking a car they will be too embarrassed to drive. A granny car.

      Oh wait. They can have our *old* granny car. Oh Shauuuun…..about that custom built dream car….can we get it with leather seats?

      Reply
  3. theliteraryhorse Post author

    Thanks for all the wonderful support and wishes for my family. It’s life, but not always easy, huh. To use a horsey metaphor: sometimes you’re flying, sometimes you’re tanked in the dirt.

    Reply
  4. lizgoldsmith

    It’s hard to take care of both parents and children. My Dad took a fall at the end of ’08 and did a stint in the hospital and several weeks in rehab. He’s living in an apartment now (independent living) and complaining miserably which is how I know he’s recovering. I too am off next week to tend to a parent with a child in tow. I need to convince him that he must make a decision about where he’s going to live. I just hope I have enough down time in NYC to take my daughter to ONE place that she enjoys.

    Please don’t tell my car that it has a choice!

    I hope it gets easier and that your father starts to improve soon.

    Reply
  5. Marissa

    People keep telling me things will get better. I hope they are right. For all of us. Hang in there, I will be thinking of you. Tucker sends a virtual hug your way — he gives really good ones!

    Reply
  6. dressage rider

    Sending prayers and virtual hugs your way.

    I hate to say it but this seems to be contagious. My sister (high risk pregnancy) just delivered. Both are healthy now. My mom’s in poor health and I just clunked the Jeep. A lot of highway miles are staring me in the face this weekend.

    I haven’t felt like blogging either but after drinking 2 Sam Summers I wrote 2 posts. I’m afraid to go look at them. (Disclaimer: My keyboard was under the influence.)

    Things just have to get better for all.

    Reply

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