Sparks and Butterflies

A while ago, my father had a bad fall in his garage. He went to pick something up from the ground, and lost his balance and toppled. My father is a big man. 6′ and a good 250. And yes, he was a linebacker in high school. In trying to break his fall he dislocated his shoulder, cut his arm, and bashed his head. Cat scans and x-rays later, his shoulder was set, his head cleaned up, and his arm bandaged. It was more of a terrible scrap, so it couldn’t be stitched. He healed for the most part. Had to have some physical therapy for his shoulder. His arm healed for the most part.

When his arm healed over, it had a bit of a bump. It looked like scar tissue. But then the bump grew. It was almost like the cut underneath was infected, so he played with it, but there was nothing in it. So he left it alone. The bump became larger and larger, and eventually, a middle sort of pitted and scabbed over. It was the size of a half dollar. A circle of scar tissue with a scab in the middle. He finally came over and had me take a good look at it. I told him to make a dermatology appointment immediately. My thought was a condition I heard of in which the body’s skin cells sort of just keep going and keep making scar tissue, even when it’s healed. Like I said, it was about a half dollar in diameter and a good half inch high.

Unlike any time before, my dad actually took my advice. He went to the doctor yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon we were in our kid pool, and my dad came ambling over from his backyard. He sat down and explained that he probably had cancer.

Skin cancer. Probably carcinoma but the doctor isn’t sure if it’s carcinoma or melanoma. It has invaded all layers of skin. They took a biopsy, (they also removed another portion on his arm) and sent it for testing. We’ll know more after the tests come back in two weeks. That portion of his arm will have to be removed surgically, but before they do it, they want to know the kind of cancer they’re looking at. Then they’ll find out the stage, and do tests to see if it’s metastasized.

My mom has dealt with skin cancer for years. But with her, it has a particular look to it, so she knows immediately what it is, and it is promptly removed. That’s it. It doesn’t permeate her skin, and there are no other symptoms or treatments. With my dad, though? It might be bad. There are cancers that attack sores and injuries that aren’t healing properly, and that’s what they think we’re dealing with here.

And so, we wait.

My mother is throwing me for a loop though. She actually said to my dad that he was in denial. His reply was, how can he be in denial when they’re not even sure what exactly he has yet? And then she said, “it’s a good thing you didn’t get into that pool with that cancer.” Like what? He’s going to spread it like the plague or something? I think she’s just reacting, because my mother is much more intelligent than that and has dealt with cancer in many forms with many relatives including her parents – not to mention her own. So, I haven’t talked to her about it yet. I’m waiting for her to calm down a bit, so I don’t have to deal with her saying something stupid. Because she’ll blame him in some way. She always does. It’s how they operate.

And so we wait for the tests. We wait to see what we’re dealing with. And then we’ll wait to see how much of his arm they take (because Poe will probably have to take over physical work on both houses for him.) We’ll see what he’s left with. We’ll see how far it has spread. We’ll figure out what’s next.

We’ve come a long way, my dad and me. We haven’t really gotten along for a lot of reasons I’ve never and will never mention on my blog. But over the years that we’ve lived next door we’ve gotten closer. He’s not close to his sons, or his other grandchildren, so he’s incredibly close with the boys. He’s not a very friendly man, in that he doesn’t do anything to expand the relationships he’s got – mom’s the social director of the family. Which means, when he wants/needs to talk to someone he comes to me. The very fact that he searched us out to tell me to my face and not hiding behind my mother, and then just talking to us about it… We’ve come a long long way.

So, we wait. And again, our decision to stay here and help them until they’re gone is validated. I’m needed here. And I thank God that my husband gets that – not only gets that but participates.

I just got home from a concert of Joseph’s 3rd grade class. Three classes, playing their recorders. I suppose less is more in describing that one. Heh.

I’ll be uploading videos onto my YouTube account today maybe. We’ll see. Or maybe Vimeo. Last time I tried YouTube, it hated me. I won’t post it here though – I just want the final product in the clouds as well as on my hard drive. Got a ton of photos to go through as well – need to picnic and flickr those.

We still haven’t heard from Poe’s job prospect. They did call and tell him that they haven’t forgotten him, they’re just still thinking about it (they would be adding a whole department just for him.) Understandable. But itchy.

El Dinero es nunca. No Money. Going to use a credit card for groceries this week. We don’t use credit anymore, so you know we’re desperate. But, God provides. Faith. I’m trying to. I keep trying to refocus my thoughts on God and His promises. I won’t pretend that it’s not a struggle.

But, on a lighter note – here’s a couple of pictures of what we’ve been up to.

Beach in March

Joseph Turned 9

Logan Turned 7

Joseph's Team Won the Championships

Joseph's Class had a Concert

Today we got one of those phone calls. The kind that usually come in the middle of the night scaring you half to death.

Apparently my dad fell, and was asking for Poe to come help him. OK, fine. So, Poe went to help. Apparently he had fallen outside while working. Badly. Seriously hit his head (blood,) arm (more blood,) knees (even more blood,) – oh and his arm hurt. Like too much. Poe decided he was going to the hospital.

And my father said yes.

Coming from a man who treats cuts that absolutely should be sutured with crazy glue, this meant it was serious.

Poe called me to let me know what was going on. Of course, I gave him the litany – ID, medical card, medications and dosages – and then made sure my mother didn’t need me there. My dad takes care of her – from food to meds to testing her blood glucose. She said she was fine and would call me if necessary. I was on kid duty, with another pickup coming and the homework. While that sounds banal while my father was on the way to the hospital, and my mother was holed up in her house, trust me when I say that disrupting the homework routine would mean that everything was NOT OK to the kids – and I didn’t want to scare them. Which was confirmed, when I explained why dad wasn’t there to Joseph. He was silent, and when I looked, big fat tears were coming down his big 9 year old face.

So. Dad had X-rays, EKG, and Cat scan. Yeah, he hit his head that hard. Knees will scab and be sore. Arm didn’t need stitches, but has a huge bandage. Head CT is all clear… Except he dislocated his shoulder. Which prompted morphine for the serious pain. of the dislocation, plus the – er – relocation? of his arm.

So, why is my husband a saint?

The man got him up, cleaned up, dressed (my dad thought he would shower first but was in too much pain), and fly zipped. Then took him to the hospital and spent the next 5 hours with him while they put him through pain, and then watched his 74-year-old father in law flirt with nurses and tell war stories on morphine.

Oh, and caught my father flipping him off on the camera phone. Which I should so post.

He then came home and told ME how grateful he is that I care about my parents so much.

Knighthood. Sir Poe. That might be his new name here.

Three posts in one day.  That may be a record.

Announcement:  My husband, Poe as you know him here, came home today with his box of belongings in hand.  Yes, he was laid off.  No, there was no inkling ahead of time at all.

That makes two unemployed people in the household.

There have been tears.

I feel myself going into fix it super project assistant mode (cue superhero theme music.)  Which is good – I’m good in a crisis.  But seeing as this here is my journal it seems only fair that I warn you that whining may be ahead.  Also ahead, posting of Poe’s resume (hey – you never know!) and upping the marketing of Vineyard Virtual Services as well.  Please be patient with me.  And maybe gentle and kind as well.

Things are a little raw.  There’s the money, yes.  But well – money’s money.  The more stressful tidbit is that we have a heart patient who will have surgery in the house (Logan) and no medical insurance as of today.  The ax came down hard.

It seems stupid now, but Poe and I talked about it.  I’m still going to SXSW.  The networking possibilities for my business are countless, and since he can now take me to and from the airport (ahem) the only costs will now be food and gratuities thanks to the fact that I won the trip.  Thank you Wal-Mart.  Let’s face it – my business is a service, and I need to get it in front of the eyes of the people who can use it.

So.  If you’re the praying sort, I have a few specific requests:

1.  That I don’t lose it.  I cannot lose it.  I need to remain calm and functional.

2.  That Logan has no immediate issues that need attending to.

3.   That Poe keeps his self confidence intact, which is so necessary for the interviewing process, not to mention as a man.

4.  That we are good stewards of what we have, and that our physical needs are met.

5.  That the family remains healthy and whole, both physically and emotionally.

My thanks in advance.

Today is Monday.  Which means all I have to do is get the kids up and ready and out the door on time for school.  Then I get to come home and do whatever I want.  You see, this week is my vacation, before I start really concentrating on home stuff.  Which would be awesome.

Unless you come down with a major cold.

Yesterday’s allergies turned out to not be allergies, and instead, an actual full blown cold.  Can you feel the joy?

But – yesterday’s plumbing debacle has been fixed thanks to my father’s plumbing snake.

I’m running into a lot of disbelief about my coming home.  It’s funny – it changes.  For example, my mother feels the need to blab my business to all of her friends.  “Well, you know, she pays $1300 a month in childcare, and that’s just rediculous.”  I told her that they don’t need to know that, and the answer of “She’s home with her children” is enough.  But since SHE’S sketchy about this whole thing, I don’t expect that will happen anytime soon, as she needs to convince herself.  So I thought I’d list some reasons.

Non-secular: I believe the Bible teaches about the parents teaching the kids, and training them in the way that they should go.  In all things in life, be in education, spiritual, and the basics of living in today’s world.  I cannot do that while not being home 11 hours a day.  I believe the Bible teaches that the wife is to create a “home” and life – the hub of it all working.  I believe that the Bible teaches that while we cleave to our husbands, we care for our extended families and parents.  I cleaved to my husband, but my parents are now reaching the age in which I have to be more “there” in their care.

Secular: Mom’s right.  I paid $1300 a month in order to maintain a job and be away from home 11 hours a day.  Until this point in Poe’s career, I made more money, and I had the health insurance.  I was the main breadwinner, and not being that was not an option.  That’s not the case anymore.  In addition, quite frankly, during the course of this job, my migraines got worse, and I developed a small hernia, GERD, and two small ulcers.  I do not believe that this is a coincidence.  I juggled my job, my marriage, my kids, my parents (all the typical relational stuff) in addition to juggling kids’ illnesses, my own illnesses, my husband’s illnesses, my mother nearly dying several times in the last couple of years, my brother’s suicide, my birth mother’s death, school conferences, IEP conferences, pediatrician appointments, dental appointments, cardiologist appointments, school plays, and being the editor of the school newspaper.

Bottom line?  I’m simplifying.  I’m creating the life that I want.  I’m 33 years old and wasn’t living the life that I wanted to live.  I am not an imbecile.  I know money is a reality.  But reality is also the fact that my kids and husband and parents need me.  That’s my reality.

I’m hoping this is it.  I’m hoping that now that it’s done, people will stop trying to make me justify my actions.  Actions speak louder than words, and my actions are saying a couple things.  My actions say I’m DONE.  My actions say that I am not a woman who can handle it “all.”  My actions say that I love my family more than my supposed “career.”  Yes, I was told that I loved my career more than my family at one point.  DUDE!  I was an assistant!  What career?  I did it!  I left!  and now I get to live my life, instead of subsisting weekend to weekend.

Do I think all women should be home with their families?  Actually, yes.  Yes I do.  I think that’s the ideal.  I really think the woman, the wife, the mother is the hub of all that happens in the home.  Do I think all women can?  Hell no!  I certainly couldn’t for the last ten years.  Are we suddenly independently wealthy?  Hell no!  We’re going to need to cut some things out of our life to actually make it.  That’s why I’ve started my business.  I want to be able to put money away for other things, such as retirement, vacations, and savings for the kids.

Let’s bottom line it.  I am not an idiot for leaving my job.  I wish people would stop trying to make me feel as though I am.  And also?  I need to forgive myself for not attaining it “all” as I was taught to have.  I was taught to go to school, and have a career, and have a career and a family.  To be a success first, and then have a family.  All you need is an education and a good career.  The family thing sort of happens on the sidelines – a side dish to your life of having it all.  It’s an illusion.  “All” gave me ulcers.

Do I worry?  You BET I worry.  Poe could get hit by a bus tomorrow, and then where will I be?  But when I brought that up?  All he said was, “Michele, if I get hit by a bus tomorrow, you know what you’ll do?  You’ll do what you have to do.  So let’s live now.”  I love that man.

In a new turn of events in our household, it has been decided that we will be traveling 350 miles (and back again) to spend Christmas with the in-laws.

I created and then pushed two 7 pound fully formed human beings out of an impossibly small opening.

I can do this.

Two icky things.

The first – not as important, and easier to write about – we had the first interview for my replacement at work today.  Behind closed doors, so I couldn’t listen in.  It felt icky.  I know this was my decision, and it’s what’s best for my family, I just really really don’t like the process of training my replacement.  I’m damn good at my job, and don’t want there to be comparisons.  Although, there always inevitably are.  Ok, I’ll stop whining now.

And Joseph.  I’m not sure what to write about this from a legal perspective.  Let’s just say that Joseph came to us last night with potentially damaging and/or abusive information (not against him, thank God), and I had to move forward with authorities.   Being that Joseph was the witness, I’m hoping that he’s not too heavilly involved in the coming events.  But there were many emails and phone calls between me and said authorities today.  We’re not directly involved, so I’m hoping that our involvement will be minimal.  All I’ll say about the subject is:  Joseph came in to us last night, and asked us what a “sexual predator” is.  Which I then had to explain to my 8 year old, and hopefully I child-proofed the answer enough, without making him feel like I was dummying it up.

Rough day today.

But, Poe bought Iron Man, and we plan on having a pizza/movie night with the kids when I get home, so hopefully we’ll have some fun, and relax, and not let the outside world intrude.

As an aside, and nothing to do with my post:  It just majorly thundered and started pouring rain.  In addition, it’s hot and supposed to be 90.  My children do not understand the concept of summer thunderstorms, living in southern California, they’re rare.  Now I’ll have to explain that they do NOT indeed need to bundle up.

Anyway.

My husband and I fought all weekend.  Now, you must understand something…  We don’t fight.  No really, we don’t.  He may get annoyed with me.  I may find him exasperating at times.  But we work it out.  Usually, only one of us is upset in someway, and the other person helps figure it out, and make the other feel better.  But both of us angry and going at it?  Very very very rarely.  This weekend it happened twice.  My husband, though, refuses to go to bed angry, and so we had to hash it out both times.

We finally came to the conclusion that due to the major life change about to happen: Me coming home from work, and starting a business, and the health insurance switch (a major stressor to me due to the issues with the boys) has me completely on edge and unhappy.  Basically, ’cause I don’t deal well with limbo, and I really want to just be done with it all and on the other side.  Poe is fairly sensitive to my moods, and as a result has been completely oversensitive about everything, feeling as though I’m attacking him, when I’m merely venting about a situation (which, really, has nothing to do with him.)  We both find his reaction a little strange, ’cause of my PMS, he’s used to dealing with my moods, so we decided he’s on edge about the changes coming as well.

Anyway – we worked things out, and plan on keeping it all in mind in dealing with each other in the future, now that we’ve brought it out in the open.

As a side benefit though?  My husband cleans when he’s angry.  This burst of fighting has left me with a clean kitchen, clean bathroom, vacuumed rugs, and not a stitch of dirty laundry in the house.

Should we fight more often?

I never call, I never write…  Blah blah blah.  I KNOW.

Mainly I’m not writing because I’m trying to stay away from politics until the election is over, and in my personal life, everything is on hold until I actually leave my job, which is looking like not until my “official” leave date of November 21st.  Everything else is chugging right along.

Of note recently:  My mom is giving me the truck.  You know, the one I’ve been driving for the last 5 years?  Yeah, she’s finally just signing it over so I’m legally responsible for everything.  And for my dad…  Oy.  I just installed and connected and taught him how to use high speed dsl.  So.  Hopefully he doesn’t find my blog.  But now he can search for old cars on ebay, and his class of 1953, without having to wait forever on dial up.  Oh, and my mother can’t yell at him for not being able to use the phone, so there’s that.  Trying to explain to him the concept of data transfer over a phone line was…  comical.

And finally, one of my picks for Blog Nosh is up.  Go check it out.

I’m finding that my brain is shifting.

I’m starting to shift into home mode.

During the day, my mind drifts from work, and I think about what I’d be doing that time of day at home.

Do I know that it’ll be just as hard at home?  Yes.  Do I know that starting my business is hard?  Of course.  But that’s where my heart truly lies.

I keep thinking about my schedule for the day, and how I’m going to accomplish what it is I want to accomplish.  Should I switch to my laptop, and make my desktop a “family” computer?  If so, where do I put it?  Do I want Logan to do his homework when he gets home from Kindergarten, or later when his brother gets home?  Do I want to grocery shop Mondays or Tuesdays?  Am I going to finally work out?  I want to get a radio for the kitchen.  What chores are the boys old enough for?

This is what’s consuming my thoughts for now.  This is why I haven’t been writing very much.  I am enveloped by all of this until things finally shake out.

I had two a-ha moments at work.  One was for a shindig.  I almost said no.  And then I said yes, because it’s my last fancy thing in the industry.  And then there were plans being made for the Christmas party and I thought, Yay!  I don’t have to do a thing – I won’t be here.

A replacement plan fell through, so I still don’t know if I’ll be there all the way through the end of November.  I’m hoping not, but I’m regretfully prepared if I am.

Terribly boring and all consuming.