So, I didn’t sleep last night. Anyone who stops by here often enough knows that isn’t something new for me. So be it.
I had a great evening though – the four of us had a very successful first rehearsal with our new music (all wonderful love songs) as we gear up for the wedding (and whatnot) season ahead. As is our custom, we finished off the evening with a round at the pub… although our usual haunt was closed when we got there, so we went to the rather loud bar at Boston Pizza instead. Meh. Doesn’t matter, the company was the important part. We ran a bit later than usual, because I had a board meeting to attend first, and then we wanted to get through as much music as we could once I arrived.
My husband was not amused when I waltzed through the door at 11:35. Oh, he didn’t say anything, but he pretty much ignored me until he went to bed just before midnight. Swell.
So yeah, I didn’t get to bed until after 2am, and then once I settled in, I waited to fall asleep. And waited. And waited. *sigh* It felt like I had JUST gotten to sleep when he actually stormed into the bedroom and demanded that I get up and get Wee One dressed for school, and do her hair. This is after he’d specifically told me yesterday that he was going to get up with her and see her off to school so I could sleep in, because he was heading to the walk in clinic first thing (he has an ear infection. again.). Jeckyll? Meet Hyde. Meet ASSHAT.
So anyway, because he’s clearly unable to run a brush through a 5 year old’s hair, and dress her in clothes that don’t resemble a clown suit… (and the teen, who was also there, was unable to do so either apparently) I got up, without a word, and did so. I have no idea what crawled up his leg and bit his ass, but he was in fine form this morning. He has no idea how close he was to a concussion. You just do not speak to me like that.
Anyway, after that lovely ray of sunshine, I find out that my grandmother wasn’t doing well last night, and my mother needs me to be with her when she checks in on her… just in case. Sure, why not. Now, my grandmother is 98, and has been declining steadily for a few years now. She’s just not “there” anymore. These things are to be expected, and I think we’re all prepared for the inevitable. So fine; “Here I come, Mom.” I walk in, take one look at her – still breathing – and say “well, her hip is broken again”. There is no mistaking a broken hip on someone who is that small and frail. So an ambulance and paramedics took up the rest of my absolutely wonderful morning. I didn’t go to the hospital with them, but Mom has phoned me a couple times with updates; yes, another break, right below the first one (from 4 years ago), and they’re waiting on the surgeon to come and assess. Poor Mom. She’s had so much to contend with the last few years, and she’s not doing all that well herself. There are days when she can barely hold anything in her hands (she has Reynauld’s disease, which causes swelling in her hands, and a host of other problems), and she’s small herself, so having to move my now completely-immobile grandmother is getting to be too much for her. Anyway, I think the end of that road is coming – I don’t know that she’ll be going home again.
Sorry for the unhappy post today. I’m not in a good place, and forgive me for saying it has very little to do with my last remaining grandparent heading down the final road.