Sunday Scribblings - Left & Right

When I'm driving down the road, sometimes the concept of "left and right" blurs. Most of the roads on which I drive are little country roads and there is not much traffic. Kentucky also has some of the twistiest, windiest roads known to humans. So, as long as I am being a safe driver, and nothing is coming at me head-on, why should I speed up or slow down just to stay on the "right" side of the road?

I was never one for coloring inside the lines either.

*****

For other great entries on the subject "Left & Right", see Issue #84 of Sunday Scribblings!

Sunday Scribblings - First Job, Worst Job, Dream Job

My first job was as a housekeeper at a condo hotel at the Snowbird Ski Resort in Little Cottonwood Canyon, which is near Salt Lake City, Utah. My first day was December 27th (although the year escapes me now *lol*). Minimum wage back then was $2.65. My first day, I helped clean the timeshare condo of the hotel CEO (or whatever his title was). Four days later, on New Year's Eve, it snowed so much that they closed the canyon and wouldn't let anyone in or out. So they had to put us up for the night and gave us $10 in food coupons (which back then was enough for a steak dinner).

My worst job? That's a toughie. They all have had their less than stellar moments. There was the time when I was delivering pizzas in a blizzard with 30 degree below windchill, with no gloves and only tennis shoes on my feet. Near frostbite sucked. The worst thing about the job I have right now is that your co-workers talk sweet and friendly and "teamwork" to your face and cut you down behind your back to anyone who will listen. I noticed that the day I walked in there (before I had been there long enough to become a target).

My dream job? Producer of live theatre plays on a full-time basis. Plain and simple.

*****

To share in other Scribblers' troubles and triumps, check out the Sunday Scribblings blog, where you get a different writing prompt every week! It's great! Stop, read and write if you would like!

Sunday Scribblings - SORRY

46 Things That I Regret

Why 46? That's how old I am, and it's a LOT less than 100.

1. ...that I didn't answer my mother's concern about me entering a kiddie beauty show, voiced by a "if you can't win, don't enter" sentiment, with "If I don't enter, I can't win" response.

2. ...that I took off the day my father passed away, once a friend of my mother's came over to the house to be with her.

3. ...that I didn't sock the classmate that pinched my right nipple on the way home from 5th grade one day in his right eye.

4. ...that it took so dang long for me to stick up for myself.

5. ...that I haven't always been consistent with my anti-depressant meds. (I do much better now.)

6. ...that I need anti-depressant meds at all.

7. ...that I ever started smoking.

8. ...that I don't always speak up and bottle up my feelings sometimes.

9. ...that I didn't start having children sooner.

10. ...that the older I get, the less patience I seem to have.

11. ...that I EVER wound that big wad of gum around my neck when I was little.

12. ...that I didn't take better care of my teeth when I was younger.

13. ...that I can't seem to warm up to the family dog.

14. ...that I didn't take the steps down that hill at the park the day I broke my arm.

15. ...that I am not more sympathetic at times to my husband's myriad physical ailments.

16. ...that I have so many regrets.

17. ...that I didn't start blogging sooner.

18. ...that I lost touch with the stage acting world after my children were born.

19. ...that I haven't sent my mother pictures of my kids more regularly.

20. ...that I let a few people's opinions of my abilities change my college major from musical theatre to business.

21. ...that it took 10 years for me to start proving them WRONG!

22. ...that I got my tubes tied (even though having another child would probably kill me).

23. ...that I waste so much time on electronic, hand-held Yahtzee and Solitaire games.

24. ...that I didn't get this list done in one sitting (#24-46 are actually done on a different day.)

25. ...that my boy children are still awake at midnight.

27. ...that my front tooth hurts.

28. ...that I keep "forgetting" to eat the cheeseburgers my hubby made for me.

29. ...that I think the family dog got hit by a train, but I don't really want to go closer to see if it's her. *sigh*

30. ...that I sometimes dread calling my mother each week.

31. ...that I missed having a "tea party" with my daughter before I left for work today.

32. ... that I didn't bring home something to drink from work (can ya tell I'm reaching now?).

33. ...that I keep switching to another tab (Firefox) from here (ONLY) when my husband comes up behind me tonight. (He can tell I'm bummed.)

34. ...that each of my children don't have their own room.

35. ...that I don't enjoy cooking more.

36. ...that I'm not a better friend.

37. ...that I'm not a better house-keeper.

38. ...that my children ever have seen me depressed.

39. ...that I keep picking at this scabby bit on my arm.

40. ...that having my tubes tied did not result in cessation of menses.

41. ...that I procrastinate.

42. ...that I sometimes get halfway to a goal and then ... stop.

43. ...that I've tried to fit in too much in my life.

44. ...that I think more about the past than the future (or the present).

45. ...that I intend to go to church WAY more than I actually go.

46. ...that I thought, "Is that all" when I opened the birthday card from my mother and brother.

Well, now I'm thoroughly depressed. I'm going out on the porch to observe something nice ... like stars, and try to change my attitude.

This post was kind of inspired by an entry at the Sunday Scribblings blog.

Sunday Scribblings - Powerful

The most powerful I've ever felt, bar none, hands down (and any other superlative of which you can think) is the day I walked out of a lawyer's office. Let me explain:

It was about 6 or 7 years ago. It was just me, my husband, and our two sons, who were 4 and 3 at the time. We had been living in a house that belonged to my MIL. We moved (at the time we thought temporarily) into a motel, in part because the Texas weather had knocked down an old tree, clipping part of the roof by the kitchen. (If I remember correctly, my husband did not tell his mother about that ... and she found out the hard way.)

But she did find out and was (understandably) "not happy" about it. She was living in South San Francisco at the time, but her sisters and some of her husband's family lived in the same city we did. Word got back to her and she did not react "well".

We were informed (via her husband's sister) that they were peparing a "contract" for us to sign, designed with steps they believed would get our lives back on track. If we signed and followed their terms to the letter, all would be well and good. If we did not sign, or did not follow the contract, they would begin proceedings to get custody of our sons.

Now it was my turn to be "not happy". My life was not where I wanted it to be at that time, but I sure did not need big sister looking over my shoulder like a babysitter.

Anyway, about a week later, there was a knock at the door one evening. It was a process server with papers stating that MIL was suing for custody. Come to find out that the sister that was supposed to monitor us worked for a lawyer...the one representing MIL and her husband. She brought in a nice $5,000 fee for her boss for getting them to sue early.

On top of that, the papers requested for shared custody between MIL and my husband ... no mention of me except as biological mother of the boys and requesting a psychological examination. So now I was left with ... was my husband in on it and was this a way to get the boys away from me?

(A few days later, after DH had spoken to his mom, I got my own set of papers ... for custody between MIL and "us", while I was working nights at the local police department.)

Now I have suffered from depression since I was a teen. But I was the one working, bringing in money, keeping the family in a place with food, electricity, cooking facilities and a phone. We kept the boys safe and supervised. Living in a motel was not where we wanted to be ... especially with children, but it was clean, safe and better than some of the alternatives. And there was never any question about me harming the boys - physically or otherwise.

I was going at the time to the local Women's Center for job counseling (etc) and brought up my problem to them. They suggested I contact a lawyer and set up an appointment for me. It was hard not to mention it to my husband, but again at the time I didn't know which side of the field he was on. I went to the lawyer's office, and he looked at the paperwork. He said he would take the case, but it would cost $600 up front to start, and could go up from there. I thanked him for his time and left, as I wouldn't have had $600 total to give him, let alone to start.

Then I called West Texas Legal Aid. I had to call in on a Monday or Tuesday, to get an appointment for later in the week. Once they fill up their slots for the week (which usually happens on Monday) you have to wait until the next week. So I went in, filled out the screening paperwork - family and financial information, etc, and was told it would be looked at and if they could take the case, they would give me a call.

Well, I got a call that they accepted the case. So I had another appointment to go in and speak with a lawyer. He was somewhat gruff. But I guess if all you hear are people's troubles all day long, it can get to wear on you. He looked over the paperwork we had gotten from MIL's lawyer, and asked a few questions. He then went to one of his law books and copied out a page.

It turns out that MIL did not even have standing to bring the case. According to Texas law at the time, she would have had to have had the boys living with her for at least 6 months, to have ended not more than 90 days prior to bringing the case. She had had the oldest son for 4 months two years previously ... and that's another can of worms for another time.

In addition, I had people working with me at the police department who volunteered to be character witnesses for me, and we had pictures of our living conditions that showed the boys were not in danger.

When I left the office that day, I WAS WALKING ON AIR! I had gone in scared; if someone wanted to hurt me, there is nothing worse that they could do than hurt one of my children. When I walked out, I was buffer than Wonder Woman ... there wasn't anything that I couldn't do that day.

If you could bottle that feeling and distribute it, the FDA would probably rule it to be a controlled substance, it was THAT STRONG!

Oh, and MIL wound up dropping the case.

*****

To see other great entries about powerful people, check out the main Sunday Scribblings page!

Dear Diary ...

Dear Diary,

I'm feeling guilty. My husband seems to have one medical issue after another, and I'm feeling caregiver's burnout.

A couple of months ago, he needed his gallbladder out. His dad took him to the hospital while I stayed home with the kids. They left at 7 am and were supposed to be out around noon. The afternoon wore on and I heard nothing. Finally they came in the driveway and DH handed me a bag and said to go put it in the garbage, that he had thrown up on the way home.

As it turned out, the hospital did a few things they weren't supposed to, didn't do a few things they should have, and hubby's throat closed up, his breathing and heart stopped. They got him back, stabilized him and SENT HIM HOME, gallbladder and hiatal hernia intact. We have a lawsuit on them and apparently now their lawyers are talking settlement.

We wound up taking him to Lexington a couple weeks later, where he did have his gallbladder out. Some of the sludge or a stone had apparently already gotten loose and made its way into the bile duct leading to the pancreas. He developed pancreatitis, which necessitated a second trip to the hospital. He stayed the weekend, and the kids and I stayed in a motel instead of driving back and forth every day.

So we get home and things go well for a couple of weeks.

This last Friday, he developed a bad earache. I had volunteered to work over in my home at the MR/DD facility where I work, but it turned out they didn't need me, so I went home at the regular time. Saturday morning, DH went to the ER (his 5th trip in 3 months). They told him he had a spider on his eardrum, which had bitten it. The doctor said it wasn't a black widow, but they were not sure what kind of spider it was. They're sending it somewhere and we'll find out in a couple of days. In the meantime, he has some ear drops.

I want to be a more loving, caring wife and mother. I do. But I'm tired. I work outside the home and he watches the kids. DH could have a well-paying job (he is a wizard with computers), but his bipolar disorder is not under control and he always manages to lose a job after a week or two. We also homeschool our 3 children, and I have wound up doing the majority of that. When I'm home from work, he wants a break from the kids ... I understand that. About the only time I get to myself is driving to and from work. Sometimes I have considered taking the scenic route there or back.

When payday comes, the family piles in the car and we head to the bank and someplace that has groceries (usually WalMart). Then the kids want a toy, and DH usually 'needs' something for the computer. I felt guilty buying some mascara for the exorbitant prince of $1.99 last time.

I don't think my Effexor is working anymore ... at least not like it used to.

Somehow this will all work out.

My Little Mad Scientist in the Making

My oldest's kindergarten teacher first suggested he had ADD. He's been on several different meds at several different times. He's had classroom modifications to help him focus and learn - some of these have helped and some have made things worse.

But it must have worked somehow. In the 5 year old class at Head Start, they took each child aside and showed them a picture of an aquarium with about 20 different types of sea animals. Then a helper asked the child to describe the picture and wrote down everything the student said on the back of one of the pictures. My son was the only one in the class that knew the word "aquarium" and correctly identified each of the animals!

Ok, ok, so he did call the "electric eel" a "shock fish". :)

*****

This post was inspired by the "Sunday Scribblings" blog topic "Phenomenon". Find other great entries here!