When life is in a constant state of crazy, you can be overwhelmed, OR.... (Part 2... applying the word)

As my follow up to my post regarding my "constant state of crazy", I ask that when reading these accounts (and I will be as brief as possible in my examples) to hear my heart regarding putting in place the use of my word of the year, OR.  

I am being intentional after years of self induced stressors and very clear and intentional abuse from some of my children, to gain some control in my life, and begin making decisions that will bring me joy in the midst of the crazy that seems to happen with or without my permission.  

If you did not read my March 2nd post about OR, I would encourage you to do so, as it can clearly be a stand alone blog, that I hope will absolutely encourage you to find balance in your life.  

We live in a society that say multi-tasking is king, we have to fill every moment with some more and some more and some more!  This is a lie. The truth is the word OR, gives us the freedom to stop mentally, physically and financially taking on burdens that we have never been designed to handle or bear up under the weight of.  

Until the first of the year and my realization that I have been missing this very small word, OR, from my vocabulary and had actually been excluding it from my life entirely, I can now see that with the use of this word, a host of possiblities open up for me without shame or guilt for not being the "end all be all" to so many.

Rest easy, this will not be a replay of my life's should have's, could have's and would have's.  Just January and February of 2020 in light of my discovery of OR, my word of the year. I just want those of you that follow our journey to find hope that in practical ways, while not easy, about how freeing it has been to be intentional about not adding more, but in finding the balance between just two things!   This OR that...

So here we go!!   

The Prince, as many of you know and love, has a grandmother, also well known and loved,  that is 95 1/2 years of age.  If we lived in the same state as she, my guess is I would be her primary care giver, as she is no longer deemed able to live independently.  

Earlier this year, we were faced with some tough decisions about her care, and what we would determine to be the best course for her physically and mentally.  At this stage in discussions about her care I could have chosen to become overwhelmed with the thought of transporting her to Florida to live out her days with us OR I could choose to trust that the Lord loves Nan more than we do, and He will guide us in this process of caring for her.  

I chose to trust that the Lord loves Nan and has a plan for her.  A plan that while was extremely taxing on the Prince (and continues to be) is one that allows her to be in a place where she is getting excellent care, in spite of herself, and is able to receive visits from her grandchildren, church members, friends and neighbors.  Where things, while are different, are much the same.  A move for her here to Florida would have been manageable, but hard for us all, and it would not have provided her with these blessings !   (Shameless plug: if you know and love her send her a card c/o of Dot Coburn at the Jewish Home, 4000 Linglestown Road, HBG 17112 or pop in for a quick visit.)

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In October 2019 my eldest son moved back to PA.  While the discussion had been on the table for awhile as a potential option, things moved very quickly, and before we knew it he and his dad had loaded up the UHaul and were headed north.   Things seemed to be progressing well for Dopey, until they were not.  As a mom, you can recognize the signs, job hopping, burning through financial resources, lack of communication, etc.  

In desperation and with the desire to "fix" this situation, I again came to the place where I needed to be reminded about OR.  I could fixate on Dopey's bad choices, his potential financial ruin, his lack of motivation  and the fact that his back up plan was the Prince and I and how I could help (enable) or fix him ... OR I could join forces with his roommates mother and we could leave it in the Lords hands.  

Almost without fail, daily, we pray over the phone for our boys.  We pray that the Lord would protect them from their stupid, and be merciful to them as they figure out how to adult.  

You know what, Dopey is not there yet, but he is making huge strides!  While we all have to write our story, it is hard as a parent to see the story unfolding with the potential to go sideways. By not fixing, not fixating, and being okay with the fact he may have to learn some hard lessons on the way, I have found great peace in again trusting that the Lord loves him more than I do and that things will be okay.  Maybe not great, maybe not the way I would desire, but the way that the Lord needs them to be so that Dopey's story is his own.  

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We were informed in mid December that our second oldest daughter was pregnant.  She sent the information to us, unsolicited via text message, and then fell off the radar.  She was the only missing family member for the holidays, did not communicate with us, even in our attempts to contact her. In January, basically wrote us all out of her life.  

While Sneezy has always been independent, and desires tons of space and minimal communication with us, our door is always open to her when she has a need.  

I will not lie, her situation is not ideal.  On many levels.  The Prince and I started praying for her and our unborn grandchild. This is no longer just about her, and since she was blocking my attempts to reach her, I had to get creative in my efforts to reach her. 

I sent a message to the other potential grandmother in an attempt to just let the other family know that we existed, we are able, and have the desire to be involved in all their lives.   This made Sneezy extremely mad.  Mad enough to un-block me and give me a piece of her mind about how stupid I am, to not understand that her silence means that she wants nothing to do with any of us, ever.  

Now this is where OR gets very hard.  At this point I am in the familiar, but unfamiliar territory of mental illness. How do you respond, or do you respond?  

In the angry tirade sent to my phone via text, the phrase, and "don't bother to respond to this text" was the valediction.  The great thing in all this is that after 15 years of parenting Sneezy, I know that the end is not the end, because she would be too curious to see if I actually ended the stream of texts there without response. 

I thought through my next steps.  I could walk away.  I could be ugly and respond to the nasty with nasty,  OR  I could choose to be gracious.  

When I chose to be gracious, (with a small side of snark) I now have been able to take whatever lies she has been holding on to in her mind about how horrible we are, and have started to be a reminder of the truth.  

The truth is that people who care, do try to maintain communication and contact.  The truth is that families can be in disagreement about something and still be a family. As an update, we are supposed to have dinner Sunday after church. No guarantees, but there is hope.

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Our son, Grumpy, who has been homeless for the last 2 plus years, is once again, living outside the structure of a community program.  He chose to leave a housing situation because he no longer wanted to follow the rules.  When he left this 5th program, he knew exactly what decision he had made.  He walked away from our assistance.  (Side note: I am not saying that we are hard hearted towards him.  We are just not freely jumping to assist in the ways that we have or do when he is in a program and working hard himself.) 

While we love our son, and we want what is best for him, his bend towards disillusioned thought, risky life choices, lack of foresight and planning, place him in bad situations over and over again.  We have (and could continue) to be overwhelmed each time he calls and rush to try and fix his situation OR we could meet him where he is, accept him and his illness for what it is, and understand that we do not have the resources to "fix" him or his situation.  In love we can and will continue to minister to him, but there will be no cost to us financially, physically or mentally. 

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My most recent example of putting my word of the year into play happened last week. It ended up being a double OR!  Bashful ran away from home.  In an intense whirlwind of hate spewing, mean spirited nastiness (of course all while the Prince is traveling for work) resulting in us not having seen or heard from him since. 

My options were that I could allow him and his mental illness to affect me (wont lie it did for a hot minute)  OR I could continue with the plans already made for a visit with Sleepy, knowing that I didn't create this dwarf and his issues and that it is outside my wheelhouse to fix him/them.  

     

In continuing with the plans already made, I was able to witness two college PR's in shot put, and Sleepy's 7th place victory at the last indoor meet of the season. 

If I had let the other emotions and options rule my decisions, I would have been weighed down in the chaos and crazy, and missed these blessings.  Knowing that I could either  continue to subject myself to Bashful's mental instability, and his toxic presence in our home  OR I could let it go.  I chose to let it go. 

I was only called to be the middle part of his story, really all of their stories. It is not my job to find, fix or in any way bring back home the level of chaos that he brings to our life.  I can pray for his protection and I can be intentional about protecting myself, but I no longer have to live in fear or constant worry over what he is going to be like at any given time.  

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Those of you that know us, and have journeyed the road of life with us, know and understand the kind of commitment that we have for our family, for all our children.  You know the ways that we strive to minister and care for others outside our home, in our community, our workplaces and our church.   

We all have a different story to share.  Some of our stories have the "chaos" for a season.  Some of our "chaos" is self induced.  Some of what each of us partake in and partner with, are most certainly for the enrichment and betterment of others and the world in which we live, but end up stressing us out and damaging our emotional, financial, and physical beings.   

I share my OR stories with you so that you can see, regardless of what we are facing,  something as specific or unusual as a "word of the year" can bring a well timed,  revolutionary (even radical) change to our thinking and how we conduct ourselves day to day.  If we open ourselves up to new ideas, and consider doing things in a different way, often times the Lord is already working ahead of us to make these ideas and thoughts something that we will be needing in a practical way.   At least so far this year, this has been my personal experience.  

As with most of my blogs and my tales from Lingle-land, you can't make this stuff up.  However, if sharing touches one person in the midst of their "chaos" then I am happy to share.  

Now on to my next big decision...  a 16 oz hot coffee OR  16 oz iced coffee!   

When life is in a constant state of crazy, you can be overwhelmed, OR.... (Part 1; the explanation)

   

or¹

/ôr/

conjunction

1. 1.

   used to link alternatives.

   "a cup of tea or coffee"

This is my word of the year.  OR - two letters.  O. R.

Rewind to the beginning of the year. As I listened to the radio on my morning drive time, the local personalities were discussing the trend of selecting a word for the year.  One of the personalities after much consideration selected his word to be OR.  

At first my hand moved to the dial to change the station.  My thought was, "what a crazy choice".  Why would one select the word OR?  As he started talking about his reasoning behind this word, I started to buy into his idea and soon my hand fell away from the dial.  I was hooked, and for the first time, thought, I am going to do this too (pick a word for the year), and I am going to steal his word, OR, because it now makes so much sense to me.  

As I listened to his reasoning for the selection of his word for the year, thoughts started to flood my mind of the past year, my life in the last 5 -10- 15 years, and suddenly, I realized OR is a word that has not only been missing from my vocabulary, but in so many instances could have made a huge difference in my decision making processes, my responses to others and in my overall sanity.  

When the option to pick up someone else's stressors and make them my own, if the word OR had been part of my frequently used vocabulary, I would have immediately had an alternative solution for running myself ragged, shouldering others chaos, and creating stressors in my life, that didn't need to be present. 

As the calendar turned, January into February, my word of the year still present, but on the back burner of my mind, did come in handy a few times.  I remembered occasionally that I could either add one more thing to my already busy schedule, OR, I could say no thank you to the opportunity at hand.  I could either agree to assist with your situation, and get sucked into your crazy, OR, I could walk away knowing that I did not create that mess and I do not need to fix it.  

In the past, my thoughts would be similar to this.  I can, and people expect me, to add this extra responsibility to my "to-do" list AND while it will cause me added stress, I will get it done, I always do!   I also have voluntarily picked up others burdens, and made them my own in an effort to try and fix the situation or the person.  Now I am asking myself, "why does any sane person do this?"   

A lifetime of actions and responses that have included adding, adding and adding, have created in me a refusal to acknowledge/understand/regulate my own limitations.  That somehow in my mind, I have then elevated myself to  someone that can, and will, do any or all things, and be the solution to others issues.  I am your "go to gal", the "git 'er done gal".  

This is an exhausting way to live life.   When I think I need to fix, or do, or work out situations for others, my focus is frayed, my actions are less than 100% for any given item, and I lack intentionality.  At the end of my day, my week or my month I feel like I have accomplished nothing and my personal goals and desires are left unmet, and unfulfilled.   

I also understand that as a mom, a wife, an employee, a friend, a church member, a committee member or a neighbor sometimes we do have to add that "one more thing",  but I would like to encourage you (and remind myself) that there needs to be balance.  That the additional things can not take away from our mental, physical, spiritual or financial fortitude. If we can't meet others without depleting our afore mentioned resources, that should be cause for pause.  Multitasking is not this great accomplishment that the world makes us believe that it is.  We are better personally, and to our immediate family and loved ones, when we are more singularly focused.   THIS OR THAT, not THIS AND THAT.   

....now that I have explained my word of the year, I will share soon, how this year, OR, has been a good choice for me, and while such a tiny word, is the perfect word of the year for me to wrap my head around as life has been and continues to be crazy.   God's timing is everything! 

It is hard to live so far away

This is the Prince's grandmother.  The mother of his father and his Uncle.  The great grandmother to 14.  Living in the same neighborhood for 30 years.  Friend and good neighbor to all those around her.  Do not forget faithful church member, prayer warrior, and worrier to the list of amazing Nan attributes. 

This is what 85 looks like.  

This is what 93 looks like.

 (just a new kind of necklace) 

 There have been some challenges in recent years, but for the most part 95 has presented about the same. Independent living, with the assistance of others to get her to appointments and to the store. She however, is still maintaining her tidy living space preparing her own meals, and keeping up with her own schedule.   Until a few weeks ago.  

She (and we) because of the distance we live from her, are remarkably blessed to have family and friends that call and stop over to make sure that she is doing ok with regularity.  Of course anytime one of the kids or ourselves are in town, Nan visits are always one of the top things on our list. 

This is what 95 looks like.

(this past August )

Thanksgiving this year! 

(still 95 looks pretty good!) 

A few weeks ago on a Sunday, my brother called to say that she was struggling with her tv and remote, and if you know Nan at all, you know this is a pretty regular occurrence.  So he popped in and got things working for her again, but by the time he got home, she had called to say it was not working again.  He and I  talked that evening and he indicated that she seemed a bit "off" but could have just been having a bad day.  

I told the Prince.  

The prince, since forever, that I can remember, calls his grandmother every evening. Monday through Friday, on his drive home from work to see how she is doing.  The last year or so the calls have been a challenge because her hearing is very poor, so he spends a lot of the conversation repeating himself in an amplified fashion.  She spend a lot of time saying "ok".  

He agreed after talking with her that she did indeed seem a little off, maybe a bit more confused than normal, but again, it is hard to assess when she can't participate in typical conversations due to hearing loss. Which if you asked her, she does not suffer from. 

Within days of my brother calling me, a family friend stopped by and indicated that now there was something significantly "off" with Nan.  She was trying to use her phone as a tv remote, her words were a bit slurred and her medications were spread out around the house. 

 The ambulance was called and she was admitted to the hospital.  She was very confused.  Dehydrated and had an infection of which the source could not be tracked.  

Over the years Nan has had some falls, and broken her collar bone and banged herself up significantly, but always rebounded to the appropriate levels for her age, to continue her independent living.  

After the fall that caused her to break her collar bone, the Prince went to PA, as she was being released from a stay in rehab, to outfit her apartment with all the safety features that the case worker recommended so that she would not have trip hazards etc.  

Boy was she mad about loosing her throw rugs and that blue chair... 

Throughout her current time in the hospital, they treated her infection, and worked with her on her strength and mobility.  This time she was not rebounding so quickly.  She was still a good bit confused, and was not able to get her strength back to sustain her own weight.  

She was released to the rehab facility, a local nursing home.  Her progress was updated many times a day in direct communication between the Prince and her nurses.   We were told that they would be running tests and taking her to physical therapy. 

However, before the New Year, it was determined that she is unlikely to make any more progress and was being discharged from physical therapy (rehab) care.  

What does that mean?  We are 1100 miles away.  She can not live alone, but what do we know, since we have been saying that for years!  There is not a suitable option for her there of someone that she can live with, nursing home care/assisted living is financially not possible for her on her deceased husbands railroad pension, and what do we know about in home care?  

Off flies the Prince the day after New Years, with a one way ticket, and a ton of questions that have no suitable answers.  Upon being told of her pending discharge, he has been working on a mountain of paper work to attempt to get financial medical assistance so that she can continue to stay in the nursing home. He began to investigate in home care providers, and we began considering the pros and cons of just packing her up and moving her to Florida. 

Oh wait, but those of you who know Nan know, she does not want to stay in the nursing home, she just wants to go home to her apartment, and Florida would not be suitable because in her words it is "too cold here"!!  

We began praying about what the Lord would want us to do.  How can we make her comfortable, yet safe, and help her see her need for much more assistance in life than she is accustomed to, or that she thinks she needs.  

The Prince has been gathering paperwork, he has been working diligently to advocate for his grandmother, and even was considering discharging her, taking her home and monitoring her on his own over the next several days to see what her true functions were limited to.  To assess the situation and see if in home care would suffice.   

I think he and I both knew however that if Nan was discharged from care, which the doctors are clearly at this point discouraging, then she would end up coming to live with us.  Not to mention that she would be forfeiting her "spot" or bed in the nursing home.  To say the Prince has been struggling with major care decisions for Nan would be an understatement.  

Yesterday he had a meeting.  The meeting went well and the Prince got a lot of answers that he needed including but not limited to the fact that it seems like Nan will be able to stay on at the nursing home, as a resident as they are not seeing any reason for her medical assistance request to be denied.  

A collect of sigh could be felt, as that news makes it easier for all of that know and love her to relax knowing that she will be well cared for and in a safe place.  As you know - she is a spunky one, and even while in care at the rehab, told that she may not get up on her own, she had to try.  Of course the result was a fall, which only surprised her, not her care givers, but was a much needed consequence to make her understand that she is not as well as she thinks she is.  

So we immediately started praying that the Prince could persuade her, explain to her, why she needs to stay in the care of the nursing home.  That she would not be adamant about returning home to her apartment.  You all that know Nan, know when she gets something in her head, boy she won't let it go!  

Last night when I talked to the Prince he shared with me that she knows she is not ready to go to her apartment yet, and has agreed to stay in the nursing home.  "Until she gets better"... 

Asking for prayer the next couple days for the Prince as he navigates and plans for her care in the nursing home, figures out how long we should/can hold her apartment,  as he pays her bills, plans the mail for, gathers documents that we need here to make decisions for her while she is in care, and makes his plans for a return trip home.

Most importantly, please pray for Nan.  She is one of a kind.  She has seen more life than many.  She has buried two husbands and both her children.  Many of her life long friends have already passed from this earth.  Since I met her over 30 years ago, she has been ready to go home and be with Jesus.   

Which I will not lie, used to sort of freak me out.   All departure greetings went something like this, " "See you Tuesday honey, unless the good Lord takes me home."  Along with countless conversations in her older years about being tired, and just wanting to die at home, and meet Jesus.  

Now that I am older, I get it.  Now that some of those around me that I have loved, have passed away, I understand the void left behind and how much you miss them.  I see that it is her faith in the Lord and her hope of eternity spent with her husbands and boys and all those dear to her that have gone on ahead of her that fuels her hearts desire to be with Jesus.  

But today is not the day.  God still has her here with us!  In this time, it is our desire to love her and honor her, and help her transition into this "not so independent living" time of life.  

As soon as we have detailed information I will share it with you, who also know and love her, so that you can encourage her too.  Not that you need ideas, but ....

If you are local and can find 30 minutes to pop over and say hello, she would be thrilled for the company, as one of her laments once she had to give up driving, was no one comes to visit.  

(Which again, if you know Nan, and have ever tried to stop in for a visit, there is a 50/50 chance she would be out and about!) 

If you are not comfortable with the face to face of visiting elderly in a nursing home, send a card. Make a phone call (but be prepared to repeat yourself, loudly) 

If none of those options are ideal for you, then join us as we pray for her.  For the Lord, who loves her more than we do, to allow her comfort and peace and grace in her new situation.  

As she works on "getting better" so that she can go home... 

An Update on Grumpy

For those of you that have been following the saga of Grumpy, and may have seen his photo included in my overview of our Christmas memories, and might be a tad curious... 

In July, Grumpy was struck as a pedestrian, after bolting across three lanes of traffic, struck in the 4th lane by a turning vehicle that did not see him.  He suffered from two lost front teeth, a broken foot, and broken big toe on the same foot.  He had multiple contusions on his body ( you can see a portion of them in this photo) and was hospitalized for three days.  

As with all horrible incidents, there is a range of emotions. Until the day after his admission to the hospital, I had not interacted much with Grumpy for over two years.  While we had assisted him in many ways over the years despite his repeated poor choices and chaotic situations, all one on one met up's had been largely between he and the Prince.   

Even in the face of this horrible accident, sadly it was again shown to us that Grumpy struggles to find the line between truth and fiction.  His story, because at that point we only had his side, seemed plausible, even evoked in us some rage and some sympathy.   He was coming home from work, he was trying to cross traffic with his bike, it was a hit and run, no one stopped to help, and the description of the vehicle that struck him was detailed, down to the grille of said vehicle.  He had called his boss, his boss said take as much time as he needs to heal, they would hold his job...  

The truth, once we received the police report, laid out a very different version of the events of that afternoon.  In fact, all cars did stop, in all lanes of traffic,  people witnessed the event, and claimed that he had no bike, and was seen wildly sprinting out into traffic from the area of an adjacent store parking lot.   

Knowing my dwarfs as I do, I had been suspect of the true version of the story from the beginning.  However there was a part of me deep that wanted to believe, empathize and even care for this wayward dwarf of mine.  When pressed about the truth, he did confess to making up much of the story (except for the obvious, being struck by a vehicle) He did not have a job waiting for him, he had actually quit the week before, because they wanted him to open a bank account so they could pay him.  He did not have his bike, he gave/traded or sold it (still not sure) just a couple days after the Prince gave it to him, He was on the verge of loosing his housing, and his sprint into oncoming traffic was due to the fact that he thought someone was chasing him.  

In the midst of all this, there was a silver lining.  Part of the past year's health concerns for him (fainting, anxiety, blurred vision, hallucinations, headaches, weight loss) had in part been stemming from an acute case of Graves Disease and hyperthyroidism, which until the car accident, had been undiagnosed.  When he was scooped off the pavement at the accident, his heart rate was 220, when stabilized his resting heart rate was 156.  This alone caused the doctors to look into other health issues aside from the trauma from being hit by a moving vehicle.  His "crazy eyes" along with other symptoms that had caused him to seek medical attention over the past year all came into view with this diagnosis.  

So began my journey back into the life of Grumpy.  I prayed and discussed with the Prince, that my interactions had to be limited, and that I once I started to become angry, frustrated, or felt like I was being taken advantage of by the dwarf, I was out.  

Since August, we have attended many doctors visits, (for the thyroid/broken foot/ingrown toenail/ and med pick ups and drop offs) have helped him clean, help him manage his funds for food stamps,  helped him transition when ejected from his stable living situation, assisting social workers in helping him qualify for social security, purchasing items for him to be able to secure a job, and are back on his "call" list when he is struggling with something.   Sometimes, I ignore the calls and texts.  I have to for my sanity and mental wellness.  Sometimes I pass the word to the Prince who steps in and helps out, and sometimes we just have to say no.   

However, what I have found is that no one gives a more sincere hug that Grumpy!  That when words fail him, he is able to write from his heart about his failings and his gratefulness for our support, even as limited as it is.  That at the heart of who he is, he desires to change, but is unable.  He tries, but it is too hard for him to sustain.  He gets caught up in his fantasy to escape his reality.  While I have not a clue as to how this story ends, his or mine,  they are intertwined and have been since God called me to be his momma 15 + years ago.     

So how did we get this photo after years of being estranged?  

Christmas is a time for compassion, for kindness, for grace, and when we are diligent, for seeing opportunities and taking hold of them. 

This year Grumpy's full biological brother, Bashful, worked all afternoon and evening of Christmas Eve.  Since these two dwarfs can not be together without causing issues, the Prince and I worked up a plan to invite Grumpy to Christmas Eve services, and home with us for our traditional Pennsylvania Dutch pot-pie dinner.  

His gratefulness was overflowing, but at times he was as awkward as ever.  His appreciation for my cooking was through the roof and he requested, even though I already planned to do so, to have leftovers sent home with him to share.  He noticed the changes made to the house, he appreciated the Christmas decorations and even noticed new ones.  While he was invited to stay and join the boys in some video games, we did not have any that he knew or remembered how to play, so we ended the evening a bit early.   

  

For most of the sibling dwarfs, the appearance of the wayward Grumpy, was taken in stride.  I believe that his half dwarf, Happy, was very excited to see him, and share a meal with him.  The others were polite, but know that this snapshot in time is just that, until the rails fall off with the next crisis.  

For the momma it was a bittersweet evening.  Sweet because all but one of my dwarfs were present for literally my favorite night and event of the year!  Christmas Eve and the candlelight service.  

Bitter because, when we started this journey 15 years ago, we never envisioned having a homeless son, (much less a homeless toothless son).  Never did we imagine that so many of our kids would grow up (but not grow up mentally) and suffer significant life events that we would not be able to shield them from or make better for them, because of their choices and their inability/refusal to do the "right" things. 

We did not take this journey thinking that we would "fix" anyone, but we were hopeful that we could help them overcome their past, and equip them for a better future. Better than what you may ask.  We had hoped better than their biological families, hence assisting in breaking the generational poverty cycle.  It seems in the case of our dwarfs, nature wins.  Which is heartbreaking for a mom.  

I have learned in all this, that I was only called to be the middle of their story.  I was not involved in the beginning.  I am not responsible for the end.  

But in the middle I have supported, coerced, enforced, encouraged, praised, corrected, reinforced, taught, prayed, circled around, cheered, cried, paid for, lived an example in front of them of what life could be like.  Shared openly all my resources.  Searched out new resources.  Stood beside them, and advocated for them.  

Now I meet them where they are, how I can, when I am able, and provide for them out of my excess when I feel led.   

To some this may seem harsh.  To others, they know that is a survival technique.  When I stand before the Lord, I have confidence that I have done all and can (and will continue to do so) for my kids, my husband, the Prince, and for others that we love.  Finding the balance along the journey and trusting in the knowledge that the Lord loves them all more than this momma ever could.  

I never envisioned when I titled this blog so many years ago, how accurate the title would be.... But you just can't make this stuff up....

and Again....

"Every great and deep difficulty bears in itself its own solution. It forces us to change our thinking in order to find it. "   Niels Bohr

I have no idea who this man, that I quoted above, is or was...  the quote is however resonating with me at this time as I ponder a situation that is not unfamiliar to me, but overwhelms me just the same.      

"Every great and deep difficulty bears in itself its own solution."  When we have a difficulty we certainly are able to dig deep and find a solution, and in doing so we do have to adjust our thinking regarding the difficulty, the people involved (ourselves included) the surroundings, and the possible outcomes, to find said solution.  For those of us without mental illness, this is no mystery.  Daily we come head to head with situations that are difficult, challenging, and we consider our options, make informed assumptions, follow the natural thought process to find an adequate solution. 

What do you do with someone that you care for is mentally ill?  Is unable to process the situation and will not heed yours or anyone's wisdom (until it is too late) and will continue to deflect and make excuses for their failings and their difficulty even in light of the consequences that they have brought on themselves ? 

All these years I have been stuck in the thinking that somehow I am going to make a difference or impact or change another person (this person, being a dwarf or two) in how they think, act or behave, when perhaps it is not for them to change to conform to what I expect or even what the world would accept, but for me to change my thinking in order to let him(them) find their own solutions. If I understand their mental illness, I should also understand that I can't fix what they do not see as broken. 

I did not create their difficulties.  They have or are creating them on their own.  Are they less responsible for their behaviors because they are mentally ill?  I say I honestly do not know.  I do know all mentally ill individuals DO NOT live a train wreck of an existence.  Many are able to listen with some margin of understanding,  about their struggles, and desire to change from those ways, and are moderately to extremely successful, especially when supported and loved.  Sadly, at this point, not my dwarfs. 

Having said that I need to change my thinking is easier than actually doing it. When someone that you know and care for is mentally ill there is a huge bubble of hope that wants things to be okay, to work out, and for something that you say or do to break through.   At this point I have over 15 years invested in these dwarfs.   The struggle that I have in just letting them work through this on their own, is that I, unlike they, can see clearly the outcome in advance. This weighs heavy upon my heart.  

Knowing that worst case for one of these dwarfs (who am I kidding, two of them) could include a solution that may result in death or incarceration.  The least case, a permanent separation from all family and familiar ties. 

While we have done this before, it is not easy. Living this for multiple dwarfs (insert children) takes a toll on ones mind, heart and soul if you are a parent. Walking the same path repeatedly and for more than one of your dwarfs,  takes a toll on your well being mentally and physically.  As a parent you do not just dust off your hands and say good riddance.  Parenting (relationships) in general do not work that way. Out of sight out of mind does not apply either, especially when you do not know where they are sleeping or how they are eating. 

So we find ourselves at a cross road. Again, and again, Grumpy is unable to sustain and maintain the free gift of food and shelter.  Unable to do the hard things that would change his circumstances from grim to tolerable.  When he is given an opportunity to be in a situation that is tolerable, he mucks it up.  Again and again and again.  Self sabotage. After he is removed from a situation, he looks back and can say, boy I messed that up bad or I wish I was still at this place, it was good for me.  But is unable to understand the connection between his actions and behaviors and the termination of these services and or situations.

Given chances to make things right and make changes to his thinking by taking actions to fix the difficult situations that he finds himself in,  are always just out of his grasp. On the other side of his ability to process and sustain.   Deep within, he has the knowledge, the training and the ability to do the right and hard things, but like running water, takes the path of least resistance time and time again.  

He chooses repeatedly to fine tune the attributes of his character that make him less than desirable to be around by deflecting, playing the victim, manipulating, coercing, conniving or is out rightly rude, surely and abrasive thinking that this time those behaviors will somehow work in his favor.  He is unable to, or prefers not to comply, co-exist or cooperate with authorities, rules and regulations so that he can live peacefully with others.  

As an outsider, it is always easy to see the solution.  For Grumpy the solution is to do hard things.  To cast aside his inherently lazy nature an the false identity/reality that he has created for himself as to who he is (a thug from the inner city slums)  and listen to the advise and wisdom and instruction given to him by those that love and care for him.  He would need to ask for help (which he does not do, unless it benefits him) , admit his failures,  and begin to show that he is able to grow from them and not continue to repeat them.  Yet again, and again, we are at the crossroads.  

For some reason, Grumpy likes his disfunction more than he likes to function.  He will be turned away from more than shelter and food.  He also going to miss our helping hand, as we have told him if he is in a program and stable, we will assist him, if it is not a hardship to us, with rides,  health needs, and small things to help his life have some benefits.  Once he looses the stability, we have to withdraw from the chaos that ensues for our own well being.

He is being evicted on the 23rd of November.  He will be turned out to the streets as winter begins here in Florida.

In so many ways the Bible speaks to the man and character that Grumpy has chosen for himself.  "The lips of fools bring them strife, and their mouths invite a beating. The mouths of fools are their undoing, and their lips are a snare to their very lives." Proverbs 18:6-7

I want to help, to protect and to do what I can to keep him safe and healthy, but sadly he brings on troubles by running his mouth, and by provoking others.  You can only treat people poorly so many times (I do not care what your disability is) you can still choose humility and kindness.  People get tired of the drama and nonsense quickly.  Grumpy could attest to these things if he ever took ownership of his actions and words.

Perhaps someday there will be sustained change and growth.  Yesterday and today were not those days.

Sadly, you can not make this stuff up...

The boy that paid the people to take the donuts away

I am sure that this past Saturday morning starting at 5:00 am, there were customers of an unnamed donut shop here in town, that were looking for the boy that last week was paying them to take the donuts away from the store.

Before you get too excited about such an opportunity existing, especially if you love donuts like me, let me tell you it was a very short employment at unsaid donut shop, and Bashful, is no longer employed there.

Bashful has been unemployed since May, however he talks and spends as if he has funds. (He makes $20 a week mowing our lawn.) His untethered reality is that money really grows on trees, and while he thinks we are poor slobs, he is never at a loss for how to spend our money. 

Since he has gotten his permit, it is pressing on him ( a wee bit) that he needs a job, to pay for insurance, so that he can practice driving in one of our vehicles.  So the local donut shop was hiring, and he applied for the position.  He was hired.  When I asked what the position was, he told me customer service and register.

Oh goodness. No way!, I think.  The dwarf can not make change.  He is a 17 year old that can't count money.  No drama from this mamma, he really can NOT do either of these things.

When he comes out of the interview he says that he starts at 4:45 am on Saturday and works all day until 1 PM.  He can eat all the free donuts he wants, but has to pay full price for drinks.  Sounds like a sweet gig!

I question him about how his interview went.  I asked if he was upfront with the woman that was interviewing him about his own fears of making change and taking money.  He claims he was, and that she indicated it would all work out as most people use credit cards anyhow.

I spend a significant amount of time with him that evening trying to re-teach, what in my personal opinion should be taught in the schools,  until the kids master it, the art of making change and counting money.

Bashful is guessing through the entire process - 4 quarters equals $.55.  A dime is worth  $.05 because it is smaller than the nickel.  The nickel is worth $.10 because it is bigger .  He has the pennies - 1 cent and 100 make a dollar, but do not for the love of God ask him to count or make change.  It is a crap shoot, in which all he did was guess.  Did I say he did not understand a bit of what I was trying to teach him.

At one point in the process I am mad.  Not at him, but at a system that fails this kid and others like him that are in the fringe.   How is it that my 17 year old can't do a simple, yet necessary function in life?  Is it assumed he will just use a credit or debit card all his life and never need the skills of counting money to pay for something that he is purchasing.  FORGET all the jobs that he can not do because he can NOT master this technique.

Day one seems to go off without a hitch.  The dwarf indicated that he called the manager to assist him several times with cash transaction, but she never came to help him, indicating that it would be okay in the end.   Saturday his drawer was off $45 but no one seemed pressed.  As a matter of fact Bashful said he did so well, that the next day would be his last day of training and then he would be on his own.

Sunday dawns bright and early, but Bashful is up well before dawn.  "Time to make the donuts!"  The Prince drops him off for day 2 at 4:45 am! 

About 20 minutes before it is time to pick Bashful up I get a call from the manager at unnamed donut shop and she is mad!!!  One of Bashful's adults needs to come down and pick him up immediately and come in to the store.  I ask what it is in reference to, and she said she is so mad she needs to see one of us and will not discuss it over the phone. Maybe eating all the donuts you want for free was not really the deal? I of course choose the Prince for this honor.

It seems that while Bashful stuck to his guns, calling the manager to assist when he got confused and could not do the cash transactions, she for the most part blew him off with her customary saying, "it will work out in the end."  Guess what this is the end.  It did not work out.

The Prince arrives, and is told by the manager that she will be calling the police on Bashful for stealing, as his drawer is $290 off.   I believe (because I was not there) that it was all the Prince could do not to laugh in this woman's face.   At some point the Prince tells the manager , who is now painfully aware that this is not going to work out in the end, that he can guarantee that Bashful did not steal the cash, and that it is no where on him. 

The Prince frisks the boy, checking pockets, waistbands and socks and shoes.  He tells the manager that unless the dwarf has the money rolled in a prison purse and jammed up his bum, he is clean of the missing money.    She is baffled.  Rattled and unsure what to do.  Again, claiming that her boss is going to want the missing money and because of the amount she will need to bring in the authorities. 
Now I think the Prince is laughing.  He says that they are leaving.  He asks again if the dwarf asked for help.  Indeed he did, and she adds that a couple times the day before she over heard customers telling Bashful that they gave him back the same amount that they used to pay for their purchases.  But no red flags for that manager... 

The Prince lets her know that if she feels she needs to contact the authorities to do so, but they will not be arresting Bashful or her for incompetence.  This is on her.  He said he needed help repeatedly and she did not assist.

Lesson learned (hopefully by that manager) as we already knew going into this that it would not be a good fit for Bashful.  However when your dwarfs are special, and they do not think that they are, some of life's best lessons are learned first hand.  My guess is he will be going back to dish work if he is selected by another restaurant for employment.

Over $300 short for a two day shift.  This means he gave away an average of $18.75 an hour in incorrect change, in essence paying the customers that weekend to take the donuts out of that still to be unnamed donut shop!  Bet there were some regulars that were sad the following week to see the blonde boy with bad math skills was not behind the counter!

Nah, there is no way that you can make this stuff up!

When you refuse to brush your teeth...

I have this dwarf, and he refuses to brush his teeth.  I can't recall exactly when it started, however he has had, for at least two years, shown increasing and advanced stages of gingivitis at the ripe old age of 17.

I have tried all the tactics I can think of to encourage him to brush, and not a thing works.  As a matter of fact, he will go to extremes to pretend to brush, all the while never doing more than putting a wet toothpaste covered brush in his mouth, spitting and rinsing.

At each dental appointment, things keep getting worse, yet even in that, he is still refusing to brush or to take the necessary steps to help combat his severe gingivitis and potential tooth decay.

Last month I took him for his dental check up.  I was told that because he was a minor that I had to stay at the office while he was in the chair. (I had hoped to run a few errands because I knew it would be a while.)

Since I was not able to leave, I situated myself in the lobby with my book and started my long wait.  Fifteen minutes into the wait, the hygienist comes out to me and says, " Mom, we have a problem."  I sort of roll my eyes in my head and think, "no kidding".

I ask her politely, what the problem is.  She indicates that said dwarf is refusing to open his mouth.  Shocked, (not really) I ask why.   She tells me that as she was water picking his mouth and counting his teeth, that his gums had started to bleed, and he is in pain and is refusing to open his mouth, so she would like my permission to give him some numbing pain relief.  Which of course is going to cost me X amount of dollars.

Now I roll my eyes for real, thinking she has to be kidding me.  But she is not.  I authorize the numbing agent, and as she is preparing to walk away, tell her that if needles are involved, she could do it twice, and I would happily pay for once on the top row of teeth and once on the bottom.  Sadly for me, it was just a numbing rub.

I settle back into my reading and am just getting to the good part, and she is back.  "Um, excuse me, mom... we have another problem."  Really?  I am almost 50 and I have never ever ever, had problems at my cleanings.

Oh, right.  I brush, regularly, and with enthusiasm, as this is my free gift to all I come in contact with each day!

Now she goes on to explain that they have to irrigate his mouth with antibiotics, as the bleeding is continuing and spreading harmful bacteria throughout his mouth. Geez, I think to myself.  All this because he refuses to brush his teeth....

Fine (and of course there is a fee for this as well) they irrigate his mouth.  An hour and a half later, the cleaning, numbing and irrigation, and I would venture to say  what he thinks has been torture, is over, and my purse is much lighter.  As we are leaving they admonish him to do a better job at his oral hygiene and that he needs to do a salt water rinse every day two - three times a day to help heal up his gums. 

As I am leaving the dentist office,  I turn and ask them, how much it would cost to have him come every month for a tooth cleaning.  " What ?" they ask.   A teeth cleaning.  If I bring the dwarf that refuses to brush his teeth (and knowing that, he will also NEVER rinse with salt water) every thirty days for a cleaning, what would the cost or the fee for that service be?

$50.  $50 is not too high of a price to assist in helping my dwarf, who will not help himself, try to keep and maintain his teeth until he at least reaches the age of 18.

So in another week we have a one month cleaning appointment.  Even though he has the knowledge of said appointment, he has not rinsed with the salt water unless I have made it, and by rinse I mean he takes a swing and spits. (no swishing, no gurgling, not getting throughout the entire mouth.) and his oral hygiene has gotten no better. 

Maybe the monthly torture sessions, I mean visits in the dentist chair, will eventually lead to the desired result, him owning his poor habits, changing them, and saving his teeth and gums... but then again, maybe not.

Know this, I will not be paying for numbing and irrigation for the "standard" monthly cleaning.  He has all the power and knowledge to fix this, or at least make it better, and his refusal to do the basics, means the same for myself.  I am committing to the basics, in the hope that he tires of his time in the chair, and the pain, and gets motivated himself to do what needs to be done!


PS- If there was a little bit of, peer pressure, aka kids making fun, like 35-40 years ago when I was in school,  I venture to say, (of course no one knows for sure), that none of this would be an issue for the dwarf.