Oh my goodness it feel good to BLOG AGAIN! Ya know the saying, "If you don't have anything good to say, keep your trap shut!"? I'm sure that's not EXACTLY the quote but basically... I've been keeping my mouth closed. I was about 10 feet under in laundry, cleaning, working, etc. I won't pretend that I'm ALL caught up, but I'm back to MY normal. Just 4 feet under.
My Grandma moved into the Windham House. THAT was an adventure. She wasn't ready to go, but the bags under my eyes could have carried Paris Hilton's luggage. I was like functioning, if one could call the zombie I'd become functioning, on sparatic two hour intervals of sleep. And my Grandma would crack me up! She'd say, "Wendi! Wendi are you up?" WHICH I was NOT. I was callapsed in my bed comotose. I'd get up and walk into her room and ask what she needed. "You are STILL AWAKE? You never go to bed. You need to sleep more!" I'd just laugh. Well. I laugh about it now. At the time I was too tired to even comprehend the irony of her statement. I got good at sleep walking. I wouldn't even open my eyes or turn on any lights. I'd go into her room, pull her up, put her on the toilet, put her back to bed, arrange her pillows just so, add blankets, and flop back into my bed without ever really waking up. So, even though my Grandma was happy as a tic on a elephant, I was relieved when the day came for her to move on to her next adventure.
My grandma had several stipulations upon entering the Windham House. ONE- she was ONLY going because she gets therapy EVERY day. Two- she is ONLY going for 100 days. THREE- no tv going in her room (tv is of the devil). Four- she does NOT want to be cold. Five- She doesn't want to be ignored and pushed aside by the nurses. (She's volunteered at nursing homes for years and that's every patients complaint... noone listens to them). SO! My cousin, Shannon, and I took my Grandma to check in on February 2nd. We walk in and a nurse is going off to another nurse about a patient and about how the patient is driving her bonkers. Then the same nurse turns out to be the nurse that is over my Grandma. Strike ONE. She starts to explain why her patient is so contakerous to US when I send her a DEATH stare and shake my head until my brain is pin balling against my skull while mouthing "NOT in front of HER" pointing at my grandma. We arrive at her room. The blaring of a television greets us. Strike TWO. A patient, the new Roomy, is sitting in her chair yelling, "Will someone get me up? SOMEBODY! I'm going to get up by myself and fall! Somebody!!" When she takes note of us she says, "They NEVER listen to me!" Strike Three. I can see the expression on my Grandma's face. Shannon and I are darting glances at each other yelling mentally, "REALLY??? CAN this GET any WORSE??" Yeah. Its five degrees in the room. The roomy is HOT natured. Strike 4.
Then my Grandma says to the nurse, "Is there a CURFEW on that THING or does it go all night?" She was referring to the tv and the nurse merrily replies, "Oh no ma'am! You can run your tv ALL NIGHT!" Strike! STRIKE!
We took the social worker aside and said, "This won't work! She's going to bult! Can't you DOO somethin!!?" So after a while they switched rooms for her. It was warm, there was no tv, and the roomy was a good sleeper. We left feeling much better about where we were leaving my Grandma. Two days later the roomy pooped all over her bed and stunk up the whole wing of the place. Then we felt bad again. NOW my grandma has her own room. THANK goodness! We're trying to find her a man while she's there. I visit her twice a week, the rest of the fam visits often, also, so she isn't abandoned in there or anything.
OKAY, switching gears: lots of mile stones I've been skipping... BRIGHTON is crawling around like he's on speed zipping around the house and only bringing attention to himself when I hear the water running in my bathroom. Turning the water on and off in my tub is his favorite pass-time. He also enjoys climbing in the dishwasher which makes doing the dishes impossible. He has a walking toy that he pushes up and down the hall slamming into the walls and giggling. He will be walking in no time. He stands up and holds on to things with one hand. Part of me is like "NOOOO!!! I already can't keep up!!" But MOSTLY, I can't WAIT. These moments manifest themselves when I'm trying to pee in a public restroom while HOLDING the twenty pound blob of energy that is SO desperately trying to get down onto the floor scattered with puddles and CRAWL. Yeah. When he can stand up and walk. THAT might be GREAT. I'll just get a leash or something.
And the giggle box is getting VOCAL! Two months ago Brighton was only saying "Ma Ma Ma" when he was furious and not being fed. And he'd say "Bwoo Bwoo Bwoo" when he'd see Brooklyn. Last month he perfected yelling at his big sister. He LOVES shouting, "Bwoo-CK-lin! Bwoo-CKA!" He has the "CA" sound down pat. He sounds like a little German man. He just sits around saying, babble babble "KKKKA" babble squeal "KKA!" And the "Ba" is his favorate sound. He usually calls me "Ba Ma" instead of Ma Ma. He says "Ball" and "Bite" and "Bye." And he loves scaring us just like Brooklyn does. And he's a little TOO good at it. He is obsessed with covers and clean laundry. Folding clothes in my house is sort of like holding up a red cloth in front of a rabid bull. I grab a shirt and get the breath knocked out of me before I even lay it down to fold. And when I DO FINALLY get one folded, Brighton's mission: "stop drop and ROLL the folded shirt." Our fam wears wrinkly clothes.
Brooklyn has started "school." Which is what I told her to get her to sit down and FOCUS while I read with her. I bought "Your Baby Can Read" after Brooklyn was born when I was still working and apparently had money to blow on tv gimics. I really have no idea if it works because I really don't know what to DO with it. The commercial makes it look like you sit them in front of the tv, they watch the show, and WAM-O, you show them flash cards and they can read them. Umm. NOT SO! So I've created some games to play with the flash cards I paid $100 bucks for. Things I've learned since starting "school."#1. Brighton HAS to be asleep! #2. Brooklyn has to be awake. #3. Mommy has to be well fed, well rested, and REALLY REALLY patient.
BUT- Brooklyn loves school. I read a flash card BOOK with her twice. Then we play matching games with the words. AND how is that working for us? Brooklyn can read two words. Tiger and Hi. And sometimes she'll surprise me and know another word, but only two are consistant. So who knows if its working. She likes have my undivided attention for 45 minutes! That's for sure. This morning I thought I'd jump ahead and do school with her BEFORE Brighton woke up. Well... we got about ten minutes in and Brighton woke up. THEN he SAT on the flash cards and PEED all over them. AWESOME. And Brooklyn can't even think about focusing when Brighton is in the room. She has to watch his every move to guarantee he doesn't TOUCH something. And of course Charkley wants to sit in between me and whatever I'm doing. Its fabulous. And hopefully it'll get easier as I get the hang of it. I'm just guessing I'd SUCK at home-schooling.
