sigh. My seven year old has closed himself in the bathroom and is having a full scale meltdown over having to share the last chocolate chip waffles with his younger brother. Younger brother says he doesn’t need any. Too bad younger brother, your’re having one. You were already generous enough to say your brother could have THREE while you just had one—he’s not getting his way so you better just eat that damn waffle particulary as it is the LAST chocolate chip waffle that will ever be brought into this house. grrrrr.

I’m feeling grumpy as our house is a disaster, my child is screaming and I have to take my mother to the doctor later and I’m worried about it. The options seem to be that it will be something bad or the doctor will have no clue. In addition, in the last three days my parents (er, well, my dad) have lost both their sets of house keys, my father’s expensive hearing aid and their Christmas gifts. Now mind you all of it is SOMEWHERE in their house but even Ernie (who is very good at finding things) couldn’t find the hearing aid. They finally found the Christmas presents which is good as my mother was rather upset about it. My parents’ first child was a son who died at birth. They were in Boston at the time and buried him there. Over the years my parents became unsure where his grave was and in the last year or so my sister Debbie has found it. She put flowers on it on his birthday and sent them a picture of it for Christmas. It means a lot to my parents that she is taking care of the grave. On Christmas both my parents were too tired and overwhelmed to really take anything in but my mom said when she showed the picture to my father yesterday he cried. Some pains must be too great to ever go away. God, I’m cheerful today. I lay awake in the night thinking about nursing homes and how my parents shouldn’t be in their house anymore but there seems to be no good option. I’m afraid they wouldn’t last long in assisted living and I can’t put them in a nursing home yet. And the fucking Lionel train set isn’t working.

3 thoughts on “Post Christmas meltdown

  1. Oh, gosh. I hope things are better now, and I am thinking of you and your parents. It is so hard to be the one in charge after being the child for so many years. When my fathers decline began in earnest it was a very, very hard time.
    I’m thinking of you. And let’s get together in January.

  2. I’m thinking about you too. My grandma lived in the same house for about 60 years so she hated the idea of moving anywhere else including my parents house and much less a nursing home. After she broke her hip she went to the nursing home. She lived there for 6 yrs that were wonderful for her. It turned out she loved it there and she ended up being like a little spoiled child there. She hugged and kissed the staff everyday. She parked herself in the hallway every morning so that she didn’t miss anything going on. In her last days she thanked my mom for finding that place for her. Her reaction to her living situation was totally unexpected. So you never know. Maybe, when the time comes, you will find a place where they will feel comfortable. Hope you feel better, Cynthia, love you, gisela.

  3. Thanks for the kind words from both of you. Mrs. Chicken—yes, let’s get together in January! And Gisela—your phone call on Christmas night really was the perfect ending—it made me so happy to hear your voice!