Sparks and Butterflies...

But aside from that, she's still completely normal

What the Summer Looked Like to me

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This summer was probably the roughest one I’ve ever had.

ever.

Now that I’m starting to be able to breathe, I wanted to take a look back, and list what happened. One, to reassure myself that yes – there was a reason I went into turtle mode. And two, to reassure myself that yes – I lived.

Positives from this summer:

  • We have two new cats… Sort of. A mom and her babies adopted three homes on the block – including us. A neighbor trapped them and got them spayed/neutered (I always mix up which is which) and vaccinated. Three of the babies were able to be socialized and adopted, but momma and one baby was released. We feed/water them, and give them a little house for shelter should they need it. Our indoor cats? Several times a day let us know that THERE IS AN INVASION. ALERT!! ALERT!! ALERT!! You’d think they’d be used to seeing them. But no. By the way, we named momma, Tink. Her black baby is Smudge.
  • The kids got to visit their grandparents up north.
  • There were Popsicles.
  • I fixed the air conditioner all by myself.
  • Put pink stripes in my hair. Needed the boost of pink (see below).

The negatives from this summer:

  • Joseph lost his psychologist who really “got” him – and that he trusted. (She moved due to her husband’s job.) **
  • Joseph got a new psychologist. I think she’ll be all right – haven’t seen her in a crisis yet, which will be the real test. But we have to start all.over.**
  • Joseph lost his psychiatrist. And I have no idea why. I just got a letter in the mail one day saying that he had left the practice three days prior – 4 days before our next appointment and in need of medication refills. I don’t know what happened – and I really really really liked him. He made himself accessible with his personal cell phone. He listened to our parents’ intuition. He trusted our instincts and learned we were intelligent.**
  • Note ensuing fight to make sure Joseph got his meds in the meantime.
  • Joseph got a new psychiatrist. I don’t know about this one. I mean seriously. Vanilla as they come. Asking the wrong questions. Don’t know if he even LOOKED at Joseph’s chart before our first appointment. However – It should be noted that I called him yesterday regarding a medicine change. I was called back within two hours. He listened to my reasoning, thought it was sound, and approved the change. So – there’s hope.**
  • Had to replace all 4 tires on our truck. Ka-ching.
  • Joseph was injured in summer school. He fell on his shoulder and elbow, and bruised the bone. The good news? He also pinched a nerve so he went numb and therefore didn’t feel the mother of all funny bone injuries. He was in a sling and no PE for a week. Not. Happy.**
  • My mother died. I already wrote a post about her death. I’m not sure I’ve dealt with it, so it’ll probably come back up in a year in the form of needing therapy for another two years and another ulcer cropping up. I’ve been too busy helping every.freaking.one.else “deal with their grief.” I don’t think anyone gets it was MY MOTHER.**
  • I had to handle all the details of her death. However, it was easier than it might have been. I had forced decisions on them when I saw the writing on the wall, so it was a matter of making it all happen – and being the clear-headed one so all the legalities were taken care of.
  • As a result of all of the above, Joseph got kicked out of summer school. Mutual decision – it wasn’t doing him any good.**
  • Some nuts and assholes came out of the woodwork after mom’s death. To the point of me having to be hyper-cautious of what I say on Facebook, which is a shame.
  • I’ve become my dad’s best friend. Sounds like a positive. In reality, somehow got another kid. I had to stop him yesterday and say, “Stop talking. Listen to the words coming out of my mouth.” I’ve only ever done that with Logan.
  • My aunt died. 6 weeks to the day after mom. In another state. Naming my father and me executors to her “estate” (there is no estate). He owns the house, she rented from him. It is the estate that never ends. We’re going in a couple of weeks to finally close out the house completely. Her friends descended like locusts. They even took my uncle’s military decorations. He was a WWII veteran, 20 years after his death my aunt was still living off his military pension – there were lots of decorations. So.Wrong. There was lots of SHE WANTED ME TO HAVE THIS. There were some specific things named in the will that a specific friend was to have. So dad gathered it together. Some of it was furniture so she had someone bring a truck. Dad left to get something to eat, and when he returned, she had taken half the house. There are some things like photographs I asked him to make sure we got. There are some things he wants to make sure I get because we need them, such as a larger bed for Joseph. The locusts kept coming. He finally called me, “What do I do?? I’m so overwhelmed!” I told him to lock the door. Come home. We’re seeing an attorney – and that’s how I became the go-to person in all things “Aunt Maya” including yelling at bill collectors because SHE IS DEAD. THERE IS NO MONEY. Take me to court, bitch. Watch what happens. Right about now, I could use a good fight.
  • There’s still a lot of stuff that needs to happen. My dad wants to change his trust. We’re still finishing up with my aunt’s house. And Oh God, taxes are going to be a nightmare this year.
  • The kids started school, which comes with its own brand of crazy known by parents around the world.**

**Note: Kids with special needs often don’t react well to change. I’ve got two of ’em.

And somehow through it all – everyone is fed, the house is (semi/non-pigsty) clean, and I worked – even grew – my business.

But I am so.damn.tired.

and i miss my mommy.

My Mom Died Last Night

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Harsh title huh. I’ve been working on the post ever since it happened, because it’s a hard post to write. It’s now 2 1/2 weeks later, so maybe I can get it all the way out.

I’ve been saying it over and over and over again as I’ve made calls on my dad’s behalf.

If details of a death would alarm or offend you, don’t read on. I’m going to go through it though. I’m not sure I want to remember it, per se, but I believe one’s leaving this world is just as important as one’s arriving into it.

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Help Me Understand Obamacare

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I need your help in understanding what Obamacare would mean for my family. Please note: I am NOT looking for political opinions. They abound, and I have my own. I’m actually looking for what this literally, practically, logistically means for my family.

Here’s our current situation. My husband’s income (not including my own which fluctuates dramatically) is about $475/week. My husband’s employer provides insurance. At about $350/week (yes WEEK not MONTH). Without telling you our actual expenses, but you can be assured that they are the same things that others pay… Rent, car insurance, utilities, food, gas, student loans, etc. We are frugal. Our truck is paid for (and 20 years old). We no longer use our credit cards, but we’re still paying one off. I coupon, use online deals, etc. Most of my clothes have holes in them, because I pay for clothes for my kids (with coupons) since they really are weeds in human disguise. In other words… We’re careful, methodical, and thoughtful with our money.

Income Approximate (as mine varies) per month: $3,500
Expenses:-$3,300
Remaining: $200 – currently put towards “extras” or extra debt, and when the debt is gone it’ll go into savings.

If we bought my husband’s employer’s insurance:
Income Approximate (as mine varies) per month: $3,500
Expenses:-$3,300
Insurance: -$1,400
Remaining: -$1,200

The math doesn’t work – needless to say, we can’t purchase my husband’s health insurance.

My kids, however, have serious medical and mental health issues. Aside from the annual/semi-annual dentist and pediatrician visit, one of my kids has an annual echocardiogram (about $1,500 a year), an electrocardiogram (about $500 a year), one of my kids has a monthly psychiatrist appointment (about $1,800 a year), and his meds ($900/month). So our medical costs NOT including regular well-child visits, OR sick kid visits, is $1,217/mo, $14,600/year. With the well child visits, vaccinations, and when they get sick, it’s obviously more. As a result, we use state subsidized medical insurance for the kids only. I do pay a premium for them, but it’s prorated based on our income. My husband and I haven’t seen a doctor, dentist, or ophthalmologist (I wear glasses), in about 4 years. We would go to the emergency room if we have to for something like a broken bone, or stitches, etc – but thank God we haven’t had to yet. It would probably bankrupt us. For everything else? We suffer. I’ve tried free clinics in our area, but it’s a first come/first served kind of thing to get an appointment, and I’ve yet to actually be able to talk to a real person to try and get an appointment. I kind of need to see a gynecologist desperately.

So. My understanding of Obamacare is… You are required to have health insurance. If you don’t, you pay taxes as a penalty. If you don’t have health insurance, you can use the government health insurance (which doesn’t exist yet). So my question is… Since it doesn’t exist, when do we start getting penalized? How much will the government health insurance cost? What will this (and when) look like for my family?

Again – I’m not looking for political opinions here. I’m looking for what this means, as it stands now, for my family. When I’ve looked into it, I’ve gotten totally confused. Does someone have a website that breaks it down into “real life” for you?

My Mom Gets It At The End

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My mom and I have a complicated relationship.

I learned all my stubbornness, lack of empathy, tell it like it is, and compartmentalization from her.

It can be good. I get my way because I work hard for it. If someone passes away in your life, I won’t cry with you – but your bills will be paid, your house clean, your laundry done, and food in your fridge. If you come to me for advice, I won’t coddle you. But you’ll know the truth, and you’ll get an objective opinion, you’ll know where I stand. I’m not unkind, but people don’t always see me that way. And I do care, but I don’t express it the same way as you.

I’m just like my mom.

But, it’s complicated. She turned a blind eye to some things when I was a kid. I already had abandonment issues due to Jeannette, and so I played the part of the good girl until my early twenties. But I wish she hadn’t turned a blind eye to some of the abuses I endured. Now that I’m an adult with a family, I know she knew. She has always been generous, but only if I’m doing what SHE thinks is the right thing. I never knew if her illnesses were “real” sick, or “fake” sick. She’s been sick all her life, she really has, but had the uncanny ability to get sick, and then come to whatever function I had as the martyr (“I had to be here for my daughter”). It doesn’t take a fight for her to stop speaking to me. Whatever I do wrong can be just in her head. But that doesn’t stop the silent treatment.

On the other hand, when Poe and I wanted to get married so fast, she was my biggest supporter (although, by golly, we did it her way). When I had Joseph, she drove 350 miles so she could take us home from the hospital. We actually went out to eat (I.WAS.STARVING.) and I thought she would actually really deck the waitress who asked me when I was due. When we were about to leave the hospital, and Logan was suddenly diagnosed with his heart condition, I got on the phone, “Mom, his heart…” She literally hung up on me. She was already on the way. She had no fear in scrubbing into the NICU and touching that little boy, even with all the wires. And I will say this. She trusts my parenting more than I trust it, that’s for sure. She’s never stepped over the parenting/grandparenting boundaries – although with her, that HAD to be hard. Trust me.

I had to be the one to tell her that her son, her real, biological son (I’m her biological grand-niece) had committed suicide. He hung himself. She had to be the one to tell me that my biological mother was dying and didn’t want to see me. And then tell me when she died. But she was at Jeannette’s bedside when it happened.

I have to be the one to make her mad when she won’t eat, or won’t go to the bathroom, won’t go to the doctor. Because my dad’s kindness won’t cut it. She’ll only do it if she’s mad at me, to spite me. (It works. God, that woman is stubborn.) I have to be the bad guy, ’cause when she’s pissed, she’ll fight. If she fights, she’s alive.

She has Alzheimers. Most of the time, she can’t follow a conversation, really. She tries, but she can’t. The last time she was at my house for a birthday, she said to my kids, “who’s that loudmouth bitch, and why do you want to hang out with her?” Wow. But then again – she raised this loudmouthed bitch.

Yesterday, my dad needed to have cancer removed from his back. He didn’t want to deal with her, too, and so I was checking up on her throughout the day. I had girded myself for it. She hates it when I help out. She hates the lack of privacy, and she hates that I know so much. So I had prepared myself for the abuse already. But… Yesterday? Yesterday, she was lucid. I got to have REAL conversations with her. She gave me money for Christmas for the kids, so I could shop on her behalf, ’cause she knew she couldn’t. She actually talked to me – knowing who I was, where dad was, and was okay with me being there.

She asked how Joseph’s really doing. She said, “It must be so hard for you. You must worry all the time. I have no idea what it is like. You never suffered like Joseph does.” I don’t know where that came from, and it’ll probably be the last understanding I get from her ever. But I’ll remember it. I’ll remember her coming to Logan’s bedside. I’ll remember the time she walked into a party when I was a teenager and gave the kids there what-for ’cause they ran me off saying I wasn’t invited (I was horribly horribly embarrassed, but as an adult I recognize that she was standing up for me). I’ll remember that she took me in. I’ll remember that she loved Joseph anyway. I’ll remember that she watched Logan like a hawk. I’ll remember her fighting for me (even while fighting me). I’ll remember that she loved Poe like a son, and fiercely too.

I’ll remember.

This may be our last Christmas. I’ve already made arrangements on my father’s behalf. I’ll try to continue to be the stubborn, know-it-all, can-do, tell it like it is daughter she raised me to be. I’ve learned lessons from her of what not to be, what not to do. I practice those lessons every day.

But yesterday? She understood what I go through as a mom, and she really got it. I’ll remember.

At What Point Do I Get To Lose It?

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So, I lose at NaBloPoMo. I really did try, and then real-life kicked my ass in ways I’ve been unable or unwilling to talk about to this point.

First, my parents decided to usurp my parental authority. THAT WAS FUN. That’s a new dynamic I’m not used to – they’re usually very good at letting us be parents, and letting them be grandparents, and not blurring that line. It’s a pretty significant line seeing as how they’re together with the kids a lot, and we live right next door, so boundaries in the relationship are important.

So Thanksgiving. Yeah. My parents were no-shows. So, that was fun. Because of my mother’s health issues, AND my mother’s mental health issues, I have no idea if “mom’s sick” is actually, “mom’s sick,” or if it’s “we’re pissed off at you and so we’re going to pull the martyr/passive aggressive card to punish you.” Because my emotional maturity surpassed theirs about a decade ago, I truly, truly do not know which is the case. Yes, my mother is very aggressively ill. But has been so for the last 6 years. And because of her alzheimer’s she has a tendency to revert to past behavior (ie what made my difficult childhood difficult) there’s really no telling. I feel like a total bitch for not taking “mom’s sick” at face-value, but there it is.

Topping that – I made end of life arrangements for her on behalf of my father. Nothing like saying, “Yeah, she could go tonight. Or she could go 5 years from now. What do I do?”

And then Poe didn’t get an important promotion he really wanted, and I lost a client. I didn’t totally lose it, so I’m making progress in terms of how financial security plays a role in my own anxiety. But! The person he relieves is leaving and he’s stepping into the role, so it looks like he might be getting an inadvertent promotion anyway which is a good thing. It hasn’t happened yet, so we don’t know for sure, but if it happens, that’s a good thing for us.

And finally the big one.

I don’t talk too much, anymore, about my kids on my blog. At a certain point, their stories become theirs, and my mentioning them is really an invasion of privacy. I’m not totally sure where the lines are actually drawn, so I’ve just been going with my gut. But the latest “episode” in the saga of Joseph has really effected me, and so I’m sharing. Technically, he had 3 diagnoses. ADHD Inattentive Type, Social Anxiety, and “Mood Disorder.” The mood disorder was really depression – except that he didn’t fall into the time constraints to be diagnosed as such.

Well… Until he expressed suicidal thoughts.

There’s nothing quite like the gut-punch that is a 12 year old wanting to commit suicide because he feels like he’s too much of a burden to you.

He, however, has a tremendous team around him, and quite frankly, good parents who give a shit. And so, with further talking and testing, he’s no longer diagnosed with “Mood Disorder” but with Clinical Depression. We think it was probably always there, but a more mild form. Enough that his current medication helped with it (although he’s on it for other reasons). But puberty has hit with a vengeance, and we think that’s what finally tipped the scales into full blown Clinical Depression. Since his issues are of a brain chemistry variety, and Clinical Depression has to do with brain chemistry as well, adding hormones to the mix just blew the whole thing up.

He is safe – always was between us and the team – thank God. But as his mom… Dear God. A burden? God. We are, actually, very careful with our words around here. Always honest, but always, ALWAYS with the knowledge that words wound, and especially wound people with sensitivity and anxiety issues.

I’m so glad he was born to us, as opposed to anyone else in our families. Our families are rife with mental illness ranging from anxiety to Depression to BiPolar Disorder. Our family is rife with suicides. But also – our family is rife with not speaking about it, not getting help, not medicating where actually necessary, ignoring the symptoms, and labeling as “Bad.” I thank God that Poe and I decided we were not going to continue on our families’ path. It means we’re pretty much ignored and ostracized. Too much truth telling is scary for them.

But if we weren’t who we are? If we didn’t make that decision? Would Joseph be dead?

While I’m am grateful for us and his team catching it fast, and I’m grateful there is help for him, and I’m grateful we don’t stick our heads in the sand…

Some days I just want to scream. I want to scream and bury my head and not get out of bed. I want to get drunk and forget everything. I want to be alone and not have to deal with anyone or anything.

I can’t do that.

I’m responsible.

I care.

I advocate.

And everyone else expects that from me too.

But really… At what point do I get to lose my shit?

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