I feel emotionally exhausted. I have entered the difficult years I think - and not just the ones involving my beloved brain-changing pre-teen, or my tricky-but-lovable 7 year old who's favourite word is ASS - but that time in your life when you now have to deal with the health issues of your much older parent. The icing on the cake of a life filled with your own personal health issues and a fragile economy where every second friend seems to be losing their job.
And unfortunately I don't have years of closeness and wonderful memories to draw from as comfort while I listen to my Mom's escalating confusion - made worse by her love of bad food and sweets (she's diabetic) and not taking her necessary medication. I liken her situation to that of a schizophrenic who takes their meds regularly, feels better, stops taking their meds because they don't think they need them and then spiral out of control - only for my Mom, her cycle is eating well, taking medication, maintaining reasonably good blood sugar levels and then cheating and then spiraling out of control with elevated sugar levels and terrible confusion.
But I will go visit her as mentioned in my slightly masochistic new years resolution list in a couple of weeks to spend the weekend. Sigh.
Well, enough moaning. My nesting tables came in and are now in my living room and they are perfect! Even Paul loves them...as much as a straight man can love a nesting table set I suppose. Satchel was so excited over the box that they were packaged in that he asked to keep it and promptly dragged it up to his room where I'm positive he sat it in while playing xbox 360 games. Violent bloodied zombie killing games while sitting in a cardboard box. I suggested we watch a movie tonight since both Jakob and Satchel had no homework so he dragged it downstairs. Jakob was so jealous of Satchel's box - but no way would Satchel share, he owned that box - that fortunately I had one outside waiting to be dismantled that Jakey could have. So I dusted off the snow and brought it inside, keeping my fingers crossed that half the neighbourhood cats hadn't claim it for their own by spraying it.
So here are my boys, watching Godzilla, owning their boxes.
And here is my beautiful nesting table.
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