Nine Days

We move in nine days. I am excited for this new phase partly because of the mouse issue we are experiencing and because we will be purging a bunch of stuff in the process. Oh, and Bam is headed up for a visit, too. She's always such a big help in times like these.

I'm kind of cranky today. Turns out I have such little energy to do the stuff that needs to be done and I find myself doing everything but what needs to be done when I am doing something. Right now is a perfect example. I should be working but I'm in the bathroom (doing real business) and blogging.

I'm taking 3 days off of work for the move and I can't wait!

First Full Weekend

We had our first full weekend of being normal this weekend. It wasn't really normal given that Wood was out of town but we didn't have an appointment at 10am Saturday and we weren't bound by grandmas needs. It was nice, especially since Twig had an impromptu sleepover and I was able to behave like an adult in my own home. Weird. Luxurious. We're falling into our own lives again quite easily and that is good.

Hopes

I won't miss my upstairs neighbors moaning and groaning, his middle of the night antics, and the generally difficult-to-share-common walls stuff that comes up in multiple unit buildings.

I will also not miss having to gather utilities money from the two neighbors and having to berate the landlord to fix water leaks, ant or mice problems. And find dead mice in my kitchen anyway.

The owners of the new place clearly care about their property and the exterior is clean (!). The interior is just fine and although there are some very minor uglies (stained linoleum), the place will be great. I sure hope the new kitchen counter material they're installing is nice and that the upstairs neighbors and their two year old don't dance and sing too loudly at times of the day that doesn't work for us. I hope that the new apartment building that's soon to be under construction doesn't ruin the parking set up in the neighborhood too badly.

I hope the move goes fast and easy and that my body doesn't retaliate too much.

I'm sort of excited for the change. It's kinda like a fresh start. We need that.

3003

Would be the house number. If all goes as planned, we'll have yet another apartment. Not as close to school but close enough and the price is really right. Plus it's just enough space for us. And since I've been telling Wood for months that unloading e v e r y t h i n g is a good idea and he's called my bluff, it is also a chance to go really minimalist. I mean open the door and sell all of it. Except the absolute necessities. It sounds so light and lovely. Definitely another resart. We shall see.

Early

Went to sleep late, woke up early. Completely unencumbered, alone in the house with my husband (Twig is on a sleepover), the new-normal quiet is going to take a minute to get used to.

I'm excited about the prospect of future early mornings - gym visits a few days a week. Once Wood gets back from his upcoming work travels anyway. Not sure I can sneak in a workout during the day. It always takes longer than I expect it to.

Maybe I'll get my true early morning get up and go body back once the workouts begin. I'm hoping that exercise is the magic bullet.

Loss

Grandma has moved into her new place. It was the fastest move I've ever done. Really, 3 hours from beginning to end - packing plus a break for coffee and pie, transportation, unpacking and hanging pictures.

Funny that someone's life can be distilled into one little room and contained on a piece of paper. One piece of paper. Maybe ironic is a better choice of words.

I cried several times today. My emotions are quite palpable lately. For no reason that I can name, I was overwhelmed with emotion and couldn't hold back the tears. I swear I'm having perimenopause because I feel so out of control - euphoric to psychotic in seconds and for no reason.

Alzheimer's disease is cruel. And with all of the deterioration painful. It makes me question so many things about our world, our environment, our morals and ethics as a society and as individuals. Why, for instance, do we slow down the progression of the disease when it is so debilitating, so unlikely that there is much that the person can contribute? Is contribution all that matters? What is the point?

I hate that my mother in law is sick with this disease. That she is suffering in this way. That I didn't get to know her before she was sick. That not knowing, and her not telling, made it seem as though we were at odds with one another. That she lived with us. That she no longer lives with us. That I wasn't as good as other people are at caring for others. That Twig and she, that Wood and me are all feeling a loss. That we know nothing more than we did this morning about what the rest of her life will be.

On the other hand, we have regained some flexibility in our lives. I'll be able to get to work on time. We won't have to rush home after work. Weekends can be spent as a threesome instead of two dueces - dividing and conquering everything. More flexibility in where we go, how long we spend there. No administration of meds, no caregiver in my house (although she was a godsend and I never minded her being there), no more hiding the toilet paper so grandma wouldn't over use, leave bits behind and get bladder infections. No more of the day to day responsibility - but continued obligation. That never goes away.

I care deeply for her and want only the best for her. I wish for her peace, tranquility, and a death (I'm feeling callous for even saying that - she could live for 10 years or more...) that is speedy and pain free. Until then I want her to be happy with her new family/caretakers. They are good people.

Have I mentioned lately that being a grown up is kind of crappy? I kind of would rather be 8 years old.

Noises

I'd like to think that I hear noises around me and that's what wake me but the truth is what I hear probably happens only in my head. Something arouses me and the brain starts moving and soon enough is working overtime.

I was dreaming, about something decent, when I was suddenly wide awake at 2am this morning. The voices in my head are questioning many of my moves - past and future - and it is disconcerting.

Working on this fundraiser is like a massive group project in college...there are helpers and hinderers and all this togetherness with people I haven't chosen is leaving me feeling like I'm a) not doing enough b) doing what I am doing incorrectly c) not liked by the people I'm working closely with d) being purposefully left out of the loop e) not doing a good job. Or everything, then some, all mashed up at the same time.

My confidence is feeling quite fragile - probably because I'm slightly out of my element - and its taking a lot of energy to keep myself in check. I'm trying to remember that my skill set is mine and I shouldn't be apologetic (with myself or others) for what I'm good at; I should embrace what I'm good at, present it as so and take whatever lumps come my way. There are always lumps. They're just hidden from plain sight so I don't always know about them. Or maybe I need to cool it - no lumps, no feeling badly, just work. Git'er done.

I don't know; tired now and need to get back to sleep. It's just that the house is quiet and dark and being awake now is almost like being alone. I miss being alone when I need to catch up with myself and tame the chatter.

Fighting

Over dumb stuff.

I hold it in, my frustration with Woods dealing with his frustration. It feels lime his anger is directed at us. I ignore, redirect, ask questions. All efforts are ignored. Then I get mad and open up. It makes him mad, which makes me more mad. And so the cycle goes. Blame, blame, blame.

What can I do to talk and not make him angrier? Even he doesn't know. What can he do to make me feel less ignored? Pay attention to and acknowledge his feelings before making us feel the way he does.

Ugh. I knew this early on and chose him anyway. Truth is, it was something I was aware that would be hard for me. I didn't realize how hard, particularly at times like these.

Grinding

She's constantly grinding her teeth. Or smacking her gums. For no apparent reason. And yes, at non-mealtimes.

It's one of those noise, habit thingies like when Bam wiggles her foot. You know that nervous foot wagging thing some people do? Makes me INSANE. This teeth business Grandma is doing is also making me crazy.

She's not doing it on purpose. When we ask her to stop, she doesn't. Actually, she can't. Nonetheless, crazymaking.

I'll call the doctor and ask about it. Apparently it's common for people with Alzheimers and sometimes exacerbated by certain meds, one of which she's taking.

Ugh.

Ch, ch, ch, change...

My boy turned 8 last week (happy anniversary, Paula!) and I had some serious feelings about it. Lots of emotion and heavy tears for, well, I'm not sure exactly what - besides the overwhelming feelings I have for the child. Probably all of my hopes and dreams wrapped up in the promise that is him.

Grandma is moving to an adult foster home in a couple of weeks - we have gotten back on track because in reality it was never her choice to live with us any more than it was our choice to have her live with us. It was necessary and we did the right thing at the time. We all have some mixed feelings about the change. It seems like we just got used to her living with us. To our new place. She'll move. And we'll probably move too.

Lots on the horizon.