My baby is fussy. He is only happy when held. Once in awhile he is content to jump in his bumper jumper or to play in his exersaucer. Today, he wants to be held at all times. I suppose it could be the two little teeth that have sprouted through his bottom jaw within the past month. It could be tummy troubles. It is so hard to accomplish anything when he is like this. So, here I am on the couch with him sprawled across my lap. He is sleeping. He is quiet. For now. I love him. But, once in awhile he wears me out. Plus, I feel terribly guilty about the state of the house, the pile of laundry, not going out and enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air. If I remain in the moment… I guess that I could see that there is nothing wrong with where I am at this moment. I have a beautiful, healthy, baby boy on my lap who needs me to be here with him at this moment. I am lucky. This is where I am supposed to be right now.
Yesterday was my Grandpa’s 90th birthday. His wife (not my biological Grandma) is suffering from dementia (and likely some other mental health issues). Last night, the family attempted to go out for dinner. Grandma decided that her chair was the high chair (reserved for my 6 month old son). She refused to move from the high chair, “No, no, no, no.” The poor thing. She was never a very nice person, always a bit disturbed and awkward to be around. But, I can’t help but feel sad for her. She is so utterly confused and trapped inside her sick and dying brain. She never had any children. My dad is handling her affairs for her – regardless of how mean and nasty she has been to him – he manages to continue to look out for her. They currently live in a retirement home. But, after last night’s episode, the home does not want her there anymore. The staff are afraid of her. She is currently sitting in a bed in the emergency room of the hospital waiting to be admitted, waiting to see a psychiatrist – all alone with her sick and dying brain. Lost in the confusion of her illness. She is alone with herself. Alone. I would like to go and be with her but she hates me – I’m sure she doesn’t really hate me but whenever I see her she accuses me of stealing her bed sheets, her bicycle, her plant etc… “If you could return those things to me that would be great Lori”… “I’ll take a look for them Freda”. What a nightmare. What happens to those who lose their minds? This is what happens. They are lost souls. Nobody wants them… the retirement home no longer wants her $3500 per month rent. The hospital will keep her for a couple of days maximum to readjust her medication… and I’m sure she won’t be wanted by the local nursing home either… there will likely be a waiting list there as well.
This situation makes me wonder what will happen to me when I am old and decrepit. I hope I keep my wits… but if I lose them, I hope that I have someone to look out for me and take care of me.
Birthday’s never excited me too much… they still don’t. I do like cake and ice cream. Though with cake and ice cream comes guilt. I think ice cream goes straight to my arse and belly. It’s my birthday, therefore I will allow myself to partake in the badness. I believe that I am going to buy a carton of Breyer’s All Natural ice cream so at least it’ll be somewhat good for me. Do they even make the black carton of ‘all natural’ anymore? Who knows…
I used to get really depressed on my birthday. I would usually book a day or two off from work and send my little guy to school or daycare and just go for a walk and spend some time reflecting on what had changed over the past year. Successes, failures, things to be proud of, things to be not-so-proud of…
This year, I’m not allowing myself to get depressed over it. I’m attempting to live in the moment. I have a great little family… husband, two boys, a roof over my head, food on the table. I’m pretty lucky. I’m pretty blessed. It would be wrong to get depressed over a birthday when people are struggling to find food and shelter in Myanmar. Or, digging out their loved ones from the rubble in China. How selfish and stupid would that be…?
Happy birthday to me… I’m grateful for the life I’ve got and for today. Cheesy? That’s okay.
The other day I ran into an old friend in the grocery store. She casually stated that she is separating from her husband. Maybe she has had to say it so many times to so many people that it is now said with minimal emotion. I feel numb about it even though it is not my life… and even though it happens all of the time. I just don’t like when it happens so close to home. Did they give it enough of a shot? Did they give up too easily? My husband said that whatever we imagine them going through… things are likely one hundred times worse for them in reality. She said that she is dating someone new already even though her and her husband are only separated and still co-habitating. Yikes. Dr. Joy would not approve. I guess that I cannot be critical because I have not walked in her shoes. I am not trying to be critical… I just wish that it were not true… for them and for their 1.5 year old child. Crazy how things turn out sometimes. For better or for worse should likely be rewritten to say, for better or forget it?