Wherever Your Path May Lead You

                       That Ribbon of Highway

The Immaculate Deception

It was Christmas time and I had just come home after a rather hectic day at work when a rather indignant seven year-old met me at the door stating very emphatically that she was NOT going to be exploded by her teacher.

“Exploded?  Do you mean exploited?”  I asked taking a wild guess.

Julie continued, “She wants us to wear matching dresses and to say a poem.  I don’t wear dresses and I’m not saying a poem with HER.” pointing accusingly to her twin sister.

Poor Jamie, she looked as bewildered as I felt.  Somehow she was a major player in this drama only she had no idea why.

 “My teacher said she would give me a zero if I don’t wear a dress and in the Christmas program but I’m NOT.” Julie said emphatically punching her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans, her long hair cascading down her back.   She was a tomboy and would rather be boiled alive than forced to wear a dress.

Jamie quickly jumped in and explained that their teacher wanted them to wear matching dresses and together recite a poem in the school Christmas program.  The program was to start in an about two hours but Julie had decided to protest what she considered to be the exploitation of twins.

As a single mom of two I had learned long ago to pick my battles and this was just not a battle worth fighting.  I decided instead that it was an opportunity for my daughter to learn one of life’s biggest lessons. For every action there is a reaction.  If Julie didn’t participate she would get a zero and that my friend is what we call consequences.   I advised my daughter that it was definitely her choice whether to wear a dress or not but that she would have to go to the program and explain her position to her teacher.  I then instructed each of the girls to get ready to leave for the school.

While the girls were getting ready I gathered what little wits and patience I had remaining.  I was so tired that I wasn’t sure if I would have the energy to deal with Julie’s protest but decided I had to give it a try.  I made a quick phone call to my mother to remind her of the program and to let her know we’d meet her at the school.

It wasn’t long before the girls emerged from their rooms ready to go.  Jamie in her red and green Christmas dress her soft curls held in place by matching bows and Julie wearing a t-shirt and jeans with a comb stuffed in her back pocket.  Her hair was a tangle of curls. We all got in the car and drove the three blocks to the school while Julie sat the backseat with her arms folded defiantly across her chest. 

As soon as we got to the school the girls scattered to the music room.  I quickly located my mother and we went into the auditorium to wait for the program to start.  It felt good just to sit down and take in a deep breath.  I decided not to tell my mother about Julie’s standoff with the music teacher afraid she might not agree with my decision to not fight this battle. 

Soon the auditorium lights dimmed and the curtain opened.  Jamie walked to the edge of the stage and recited her poem without a hitch.  She looked so sweet and ladylike that it was hard to believe she was the identical twin of her slovenly sister.  As soon as she exited the stage my mother asked, “Where is Julie?   It would have been so cute if they had recited the poem together.”

The curtain opened again to the entire third grade class standing on bleachers ready to sing songs of the season.  I scanned the faces looking for two just alike.  I quickly found Jamie on the front row but no Julie.  Of course I wasn’t the only one looking for her.  My mother rather loudly asked, “Where’s Julie?  Isn’t she in the program?”   

“I’ll explain later.” I whispered.

I had resigned myself to the fact that Julie was indeed getting a zero in music and that no resolution had been reached between Julie and her teacher.  Then the children finished a rousing song of “Here comes Santa Claus” and the curtains closed. 

The auditorium suddenly darkened and a single spotlight began to shine on the center of the curtain.  Slowly the curtain opened to a choir of children softly singing, “Away in a Manger”.  The spotlight focused on Mary and Joseph looking adoringly at the Christ child.  Mary was wearing a blue sheet that covered her hair and wrapped around her entire body.  It was a second or two before I realized that due to an immaculate deception this angelic creature was no other than my tomboy daughter wearing a t-shirt and jeans beneath her robe with a comb stuffed in her pocket. 

The 21st Century

Ron and I made to the movie Saturday night to see "We bought a zoo" and it was really good.  I highly recommend it.   Just a good wholesome family movie.

Today we purchased new cell phones and a dishwasher for Mike.  That was an adventure.  We took Mike to Sears and he interviewed the clerk for about 30 minutes on what kind of Indian he was.  It was an interesting conversation.  Thank goodness Ron had more patience with him than I did.  I felt my blood sugar taking a nose dive and had to go find something to eat.  I left Ron in charge of Mike and they managed to complete the transaction.


We got new phones so we could start texting.  We had to change our phone plans as well.  When I called my daughter and told her I could now text she said, "Thank goodness......you are now in the 21st century".  Ron's daughter was just as elated.  Good grief........I guess it's the new mode of communication.


Monday has arrived way to quickly.  I have to gear up for another week and my heart isn't in it yet.  

I've been thinking a lot about chronic depression, anxiety disorders and other emotional challenges and how all or some have affected so many members of my family.  It seems that my dad and I are the only ones that were not impacted by such afflictions.  My dad was a fun loving happy guy all the time.  Even with the responsibility of taking care of my brother 24/7.  Mike was with my dad every day and I can't remember one time that my dad complained about it.  He tried once to set Mike up to live alone and when it didn't work he just accepted the fact and Mike moved back home.  No complaints were heard. 


By nature I'd say that I'm a happy person.  I don't suffer from anxiety or depression.  I'm afraid I don't handle the stress of caring for my brother as well as my dad did.  I try to vent any frustration I'm feeling here and then leave it.  So far this method seems to work.


I was telling my boss this morning that I felt as if I was a little harsh on the phone with Mike.  She said, "If that's harsh then I'm a sadistic bitch when I talk to my husband."  She assured me that whatever frustration I was feeling was not evident on the phone call.  That made me feel better.


What really gets me is why did I get the genetic roll of the dice that I did?  Why, when every other member of my family has such challenges?  Guess I shouldn't question it but just be grateful!

I married a keeper!

I'm a litttle down in my back today so my dear, sweet husband was up early this morning doing the laundry.  He cleaned the kitchen and got the grocery list and did the shopping.  He even called in my prescription  and picked it up as well. Now he is with Mike watching a basketball game giving me time to just take a long hot bath.  He's is honestly the kindest person and so very thoughtful. 

I took my medication and threw in some extra arthritis pain reliever and I'm ready for that hot soaking tub.  If I'm better this evening we may catch a movie.  I've been wanting to see the movie about the guy who purchased a zoo.  It looked pretty wholesome and tame.

We are going to have a pretty quiet weekend.

Clinging Vine

Have you ever had issues with static cling or static in general?  I remember when I had carpet in the living room and we actually had to get up and change the channel on the tv. I would get the be-jezus shocked out of me.  So, I made the kids change the channel.  They would actually scoot across the carpet in their socks just to see if they would light up when they touched it.  Doesn't happen now with wood floors and remotes.

Many years ago I went in to work and had no idea that I had a pair of panties stuck to the back of my skirt.  Thank goodness a co-worker was nice enough to tell me or I would have been sporting that look all day.

Another time I went to the doctor and as I was perched on the exam table I looked down and noticed something sticking out the hem of my slacks.  I became entranced by the foreign object and while the doctor continued talking about my diagnosis I started pulling on it.  It kept coming and coming like a magician's scarf trick.  It was a pair of panty hose!  I quickly wadded them in my hand and stuffed them under my butt!    

I can't count the number of times I've pulled a sweater over my head to have my hair stand up like a science experiment.  Or just when you think you are about the hottest looking thing at the party your husband lets you know your skirt is stuck to your back only about 3 inches higher then your  fanny.  


All the above examples are why I have this in my desk drawer.

Collecting or Hoarding?

I have found the greatest motivator to cleaning house and getting rid of accumulated junk.  I just watch a marathon of "Hoarding Buried Alive" and I'm ready to empty every closet and drawer in my house.  Sometimes I can't even finish an episode before I'm up and throwing stuff away.  I realize the cases depicted on television are extreme  but I can also see how as we age and become physically challenged things can pile up.   Every time I open a closet it is the stuff that is hidden in the back of some pile that really makes me question why I've kept it in the first place.  Is it the old out of sight out of mind mentality?  

What's really had me thinking lately is how new physical limitations change what we do.  I've come to realize that getting out the familiar Christmas decorations has become harder and harder.  I'm not physically able to do it anymore.  So, do I sell all my decorations in a yard sale or do I keep them stacked up in boxes for my kids to deal with some day?

When Ron and I got married we had to combine households.  Fortunately, he had a huge estate sale and had already eliminated the need to find places for furniture etc.  But the things we did try to merge filled up every empty nook and cranny in the house.  I realize after 8 months of marriage that we do not need 50 towels....we aren't that dirty.  So it's time to clear out the linen closet.

The next big project is to get the family photos under control.  I didn't have that many photos but Ron came with 4 huge Rubber maid tubs of pictures.  Most of the people in the photos he has no idea who they are.  But he has a sentimental attachment because they belonged to his parents.  His daughter will probably have no attachment to them because she doesn't know who they are either.  So that's a project that still needs to be tackled.


Ron is a collector.  He sold the majority of his collections in the estate sale but he has that collector mentality.  If there is a series of things he has to have them all.  He has collected everything from Santa's around the world to Nascar model cars and coins.  Me.....I collect nothing but dust.  As a single mom I didn't have the extra income to collect anything.  We worked under the rule of  "If it doesn't feed you, clothe you or provide shelter, you don't need it."

So, I'm still trying to simplify my life.  Decluttering is part of my intention so I don't end up an episode of Hoarding..........

Hope is on the horizon

Yesterday was a long day.  I had my regular doctor's appointment and after an EKG and the regular blood work all is well with me.  Then on to Mike's appointment with his new psychiatrist, Dr. T.

Mike met with Ray again before his appointment with the doctor and they had a good conversation.  Mike really responds well to Ray.  They talked about guilt and Mike's overwhelming feelings of guilt and remorse for things that have been so exaggerated in his mind.  All in all it was a good session. I'm so thankful we found Ray.

Then we met with Dr. T.  The first thing he asked was "Why is he on all these meds.?"  

Uhhhhh "Because the psychiatrist prescribed them."  I replied.

"I'm surprised you can even talk Mike with all this stuff in your system."

I said he barely can..........


So, the rest of the visit we talked about Mike's medication and how he needs to be weaned off a lot of it.  Dr. T. said he will function again and feel so much better.  


Mike was a little apprehensive of course because he is so afraid of having another psychotic episode but we were assured his medication will only be reduced to the lowest level that will still maintain his mental health.  The doctor also indicated that some of the physical side-effects Mike is experiencing will go away as well.  The problem with his eyes and even the choking sensation are being caused by a medication that is drying out his eyes and his mouth. 


The first medication to be reduced is the Thorazine which is an old psychotropic drug.  It can cause a lot of side effects.  He started with reducing it by one dose per day.  Then we will go back in two weeks and he will probably reduce it again until he gets off it completely.  Dr. T. said it may take 6 months to get him off everything he wants to eliminate.


Mike said, "There's hope for me."  

Dr. T. answered, "You bet there is hope for you, you will be a new man."

It's amazing what a little hope can do.  We are all cautiously optimistic that Mike will regain his independence!  I am praying so hard.