Time Passes

Just read a post by Momhood. If you haven't read it yet you might want to go over there and offer her your sympathy and a great big hug.

I can't believe it's almost March. Seems like it was just New Years Eve. Why is it that time seems to fly by? Not just the weekends mind you...but the weeks as well. When I was younger, it took for ever for the school year to pass, and summer seemed to last a long time. Now every day passes quickly (except when I'm stuck in a very boring meeting...then it drags). Maybe it's just part of getting older... Whatever it is, I feel as if life is moving along and I'm running to keep up. Maybe that's why I still feel so tired...

All's Well

Twelve had a great time on the field trip, and returned safe and sound. Picked up Girl Scout cookies and now get to deliver them....happy, happy, joy, joy!

Letting Grow

Twelve is going on a field trip today. When she was in Elementary school, she always volunteered for me to go on the field trips with her class. It was my pleasure to go and she really wanted her "mommy" there. I always went, whether it was parent drivers or a school bus. It was great joining Twelve and her classmates on trips to many places that I had never been.

A few weeks ago, Twelve asked me if I would be willing to pay for her to go on a field trip. The place they're going is approximately 60 miles one way from her school. I've never been to this place. The school asked for parent volunteers, so I asked Twelve if she wanted me to go. Her response... "No mom, that's o.k., you don't have to go, just go to work that day...I'll be fine." My response... "Twelve, it's fine. I don't mind missing work, if you want me to go, I will be more than happy to go." Twelve's last and final response..."No mom...really...it's fine...I'll hang with my friends."

To say that I felt both happy and sad would be a fair representation of my reaction. Twelve is growing up and gaining some self confidence. That makes me happy. That I feel disconnected from what is going on at school, makes me sad. That she is choosing her friends over me is tough. I know that is how it's supposed to be, and I will deal with...after all I don't have a choice.

Yet, this morning I am sitting here worrying...scared. What am I scared about? I'm scared that the school bus will get into an accident, and I won't be there to protect Twelve (after all it's 120 miles of freeway...and it's raining today)... that something terrible will happen, and it will be all my fault for not insisting that either I go on the field trip, or that Twelve doesn't. Irrational...yes. Can I stop these worries...no. Will I act on them and stop Twelve from going...no. I suppose I won't relax all day today until Twelve walks back in the door. It's like the first time I let her walk home from school...I was terrified... after she did it a few times I stopped feeling so scared. This is a first for Twelve and I. She's never gone this far away without either my hubby or myself. Is it about time??? Evidently... but it doesn't make watching her grow and "letting her go" any easier.

Do You Follow Your Own Advice?

Spent the day, Saturday, taking three of my girl scouts on a 140 mile drive (one way) to attend a workshop on "protecting themselves from being assaulted". There were about 35 girls ranging in ages from 12 to 16 attending this workshop. All of the girls in the troop were invited to attend, but only three of the girls in my troop (really only three of their moms) thought it was important enough for their daughters to attend. The speakers talked about: saying "no"...using assertive strong voices, staying in groups and not putting yourself in compromising situations, and simple things such as...not opening the door to someone just because they're in a uniform, or if your car breaks down and your cell phone doesn't work and someone offers you a ride to the nearest gas station, do not open your car window or door, instead ask the person (through your closed window) to please go to the nearest gas station and ask them to send a tow truck for you or ask the person, offering to help you, to please call the police for you...but to NEVER, EVER get in the car with a stranger. Things that most parents teach their children... but I wonder, how many of us as adults follow this advice?

Looking For The Silver Lining

One of the good things about being sick, if one if looking for the silver lining of sickness, is the weight loss. All of my life I have been considered thin, unless I was pregnant…then I was considered well…pregnant. For some reason, completely unbeknownst to me, in the last few years, twenty pounds have found me and I didn’t even know that I was looking for them.

Actually, I wasn’t looking for them, and they didn’t ask if I wanted them… or if they could stay. One day (yeah right) I stepped on the scale and YEOOOOOW the number was 20 lbs more than the day before. Honestly.

Well this morning, after feeling lousy for a few days, I got on the scale and six , yes six pounds were off the scale. I felt happy. I felt ecstatic. I still felt sick... but perversely a happier sick. It was almost as if it had been was worth being sick...notice I said almost. Feeling lousy for a few days suddenly seemed like a small price to pay to see a number that I haven’t seen in a while. Unfortunately I know that as soon as I start to eat again, those six pounds will somehow find me. Unless I can find a new home for them... any volunteers?

p.s. If you haven't already done so, please stop by The Erstwhile Librarian and wish her a happy birthday!

Tissues Anyone?

Well, I've officially joined the ranks of the "not feeling well" crowd. Started with a cough...moved into a sore throat...and has now graduated into a drippy nose. (I know, more information than you probably wanted)... Don't know if its from being run down, stressed out or in a smoky environment (click here)... or maybe it's from all three. Either way, I can't afford to be feeling "under the weather" (not that anyone can). So, tonight I made some soup for dinner, hubby brought home some fresh french bread. I plan on eating the soup, putting on my jammies, crawling into bed... and hopefully feeling better tomorrow.

A Call For Help

I need some help! I had a situation in my Girl Scout troop (7th and 8th grade girls) in which one of the girls (we'll call her "Flinger") "flung spit" (while her father was standing right behind her) onto the face of another girl (who just happened to be my daughter), because "Flinger" was mad at something my daughter did (I'll explain this later).

Now let me digress for a moment and state as objectively as I can, that Flinger had behavioral issues since joining the troop (a few years). She behaved both disrespectfully and rudely to not only the other girls in the troop, but also to my co-leader and myself at every meeting/event, monopolizing the conversation and speaking when anyone else would try to speak, often speaking at the same time. My co-leader and I tried to work with this girl to help her be more respectful, speaking not only with this girl, but with her parents as well. Her behavior never changed. In fact it became worse.

When a child is 2 or 3 or 4 or even 5 years old, allowances need to be made to help teach correct behavior, I believe this is the job of the parents. When a child reaches the age of 14 years one would assume that they have been taught right from wrong and acceptable behavior from unacceptable behavior. (I realize that there are some children with disabilities who may not understand this concept, but that is not the case here). This girl knew what she did was wrong but chose to act out of anger and frustration anyway. I felt that this "flinging" behavior constituted "crossing the line" of acceptable behavior.

Now for Twelve’s part in the story. Twelve was rude to Flinger after the meeting. While Flinger was playing her flute (which she wasn't supposed to be doing) my daughter rudely kept saying "Make her stop, make her stop". Not to excuse Twelve’s behavior (there were consequences for her), but what Twelve did was really give "Flinger a taste of her own medicine" on a much lesser scale. (Flinger had been talking and interrupting the other girl scouts, my co-leader and me throughout the whole meeting). Instead of using her words, Flinger attacked my daughter....and as a result after much soul searching, I "dismissed" Flinger from the troop.

Fast forward a few months to now and to the problem that I need help with. We chose not to make a big deal of the fact that Flinger was out of our troop. (We felt that losing the privilege of being in the troop was consequence enough, and we didn't want to embarrass this girl unnecessarily). Twelve was instructed to tell anyone who asked that they should speak to Flinger directly. Well for the past week, one of the girls in the troop has been very mean to Twelve by saying things such as "It's your fault that Flinger got kicked out of the troop", and "I'm mad at you". Twelve's response has been quite mature. She has told this girl that the reason Flinger is out of the troop was because of Flinger's behavior, not because of anything that Twelve did. But these remarks are hurting Twelve’s feelings.

We are supposed to have a meeting Friday afternoon. Do I gather all the girls together and tell them what really happened, do I talk to the one girl who is "bothering" Twelve, or do I say and do nothing and let it (hopefully) work itself out? Do YOU have any suggestions?

The Yeah's Have It

Today my sister and I spent the day together...yeah! Just the two of us...yeah! Hubby was home with the kids and my mom... yeah! Time spent with sister...yeah! Time spent shopping at outlet mall...boo! (we weren't too sucessful)...Time spent gambling at the casino (which happens to be next door to the outlet mall)...boo! for me...I lost $. Yeah for sister...she won $. Yeah for sister...she shared her winnings. Drove home in holiday traffic...boo! Came home with a raging headach...boo! :~( The yeah's win 6:4...I guess that means I had a good day!

Why Is It?

Why is it that when my husband drives through a canyon road, I hope that the person if front of us drives slowly...and that when I'm the one driving the car...I hope that there's no one in front of me?

Why is it that when I am sitting in a boring meeting time seems to stand still, but when I am doing something that I enjoy, time just flies by?

Why is it that sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I just can't remember what I walked into the room to do?

Why is it that sometimes I come up with such weird questions?

The Favor

My hubby and I just got home from going out to dinner with two other couples this evening, and NO children. (we don't do this very often, usually preferring to spend the time with our kids). It felt so nice to be able to use my brain and have a somewhat intelligent conversation, without being interrupted by children wanting me to attend to various needs or wants... except for the phone call at 9:30 from Ten wondering when we would be home.
To be perfectly honest, I really didn't want to go out tonight. I was feeling exhausted, and didn't want to have to converse with anyone...I just wanted to stay at home and read my book, instead we went out and had a good time. In retrospect, I'm glad that hubby made these plans...but shhhhh, don't tell him...I want him to keep thinking that I did him a favor.

They're Calling My Name

Feel like I just hit the "mother lode"! The principal at one of my schools is a voracious reader (he says he reads about 3 books per weekend). He has decided to start a "lending library" among the teachers at the school. I happened to stumble across this "library" while at work today. Found three books to borrow...(no way I will able to read them all before I return to the school in one weeks time, but the librarian suggested that I take all three and just bring them back when I'm finished). I always carry a book with me and read whenever I can (sitting in the car waiting for Ten to get out of school, sitting in the car waiting for Ten or Twelve to be finished with some activity, or sometimes at recess/nutrition at one of my many schools, if I'm not too busy)...I'm currently reading the new Nelson DeMille book "Wild Fire" and can't seem to put it down. Hopefully I will find, or make the time to finish it this weekend...after all, three books are calling my name.

Get Thee To A Mirror!

While waiting for Ten to get out of school this afternoon I saw a woman, I would guess to be in her mid 40's-50's, parking her car in the red zone and getting out, presumably to get her child. This woman was wearing a black mini-skirt and high heeled black boots. Not only did she show complete disregard for the school "drive-thru rules" (click here for more on that subject), but clearly she does not watch TLC's "What Not To Wear". For my next community service project, I'm thinking of taking up a collection and buying her a full length mirror.

You Won't Catch Me Sleeping

My sister was over this afternoon. Said sister is quite knowledgeable when it comes to computers and all things technical. (she is the one who convinced me to start blogging).

Sister say's to me..."Do you want to change the look of your blog?"

My extraordinary response "I don't know."

Sister: "Well since I'm here, let me just show you how to make changes."

Me: "Um, o.k."

Sister says..."Would you like to put a picture on your blog?"

Me: "Um, o.k."

Sister: "We need to get a picture of you sleeping."

Me: "Um, no way." (notice I actually worked up the energy to have an opinion at that point!)

Sister: "Fine, well maybe we can create an avatar for you to use."

Me: "Um, o.k."...couldn't find one...decided to use a picture I took from one of my vacations...

Next thing I know my blog page was: pink, green, purple, blue, yellow,brown and every combination you can imagine... Until Twelve looked at it... and gave her opinion...she liked purple the best....decided today wasn't a purple day for me, besides the purple didn't go well with the picture (how shallow is that!). My sister says she wants to show me how to change the "layout". I think I'll ask Twelve her opinion before I get started...just in case...

The World Doesn't Revolve Around Them

I have a question...why do some people, even once they're adults, continue to feel that the universe revolves around them? Case in point. At my son's school the "pick up" after school consists of cars working their way through the parking lot until they reach the curb where the children are waiting. The curb itself is at least 12 car lengths long (and I'm talking SUV and van size car lengths).

The "Schools Rules" on this matter are quite simple...you must stay in your car at all times, and you need to pull forward when there is room to do so. This allows the most number of cars to be waiting along the curb at any one time. Two simple rules!!!!! (Now please understand, there are many parking spaces available in the parking lot, if someone wants to wait outside their childs room, or stand and chat with their friends)... so why do so many of these, "The world revolves around me", moms (and yes, it is usually moms) think that they can just sit in their car, or get out of their cars, and leave so much room in front of them that the cars behind them cannot move up in an orderly manner? This frustrates people sitting in the parking lot portion of the line, and many times these people drive past the waiting cars and then move into the open spaces (unlike standing in line, where people are usually not going to "cut in front of you".)...this in turn isn't fair to the people waiting patiently in line, however who can blame them?

I am so fed up with these self-involved, I'm more important than anyone else, selfish, rude, inconsiderate people!!! Can you tell??? And guess what...I don't like them either!

The Wonderful World of Fonts

I wasn't going to post today...I figured I would use my "down time" to continue reading my book, but since I'm home and sure to be interrupted, I decided to post. I know that I've written about the alien alphabet contained in the "word verification" process...but does anyone know why the fonts keep changing??? I don't think that people set the fonts for their "word verifications" because everytime a comment of mine doesn't "take", I have to reenter a new alien word and the fonts keep changing...this of course wrecks havoc on my failing eyesight. (sigh).

Wishing For A Snow Day...

I wish we had snow where I live...I really could use a "snow day" tomorrow. I feel like there is so much that I need to do and I don't seem to be able to find the time to just do it. If pressed, I doubt that I could come up with a list of "Things To Do" (although, I usually make one of these lists every morning). I think I just want some time where I'm not accountable to anyone but myself... Is that too much to ask?

Me and My Big Mouth

I think I mentioned before that I will be volunteering at my children's Sunday School, one Sunday morning per month. This morning I went to a meeting so I could meet the other volunteers and learn about how things are done. Although I had seen some of these people around, I had never formally been introduced to any of the group members...they all seemed really nice...until I decided to open my mouth. While trying to understand why a certain procedure was being done one way and not another, I asked some questions...(for clarification purposes only)! One of the women in this group shot me a "dirty look". Found out later, she was the person who implemented the system I was questioning. She's also the woman who will be training me. Will try to hard not to open my mouth and insert the other foot!...Wish me luck... I meet with her next week.

Of Lice and Women

My friend called last night. One of the children in her daughter's class has head lice. Haven't seen friend, or said daughter in a while. So why is my head itching?

Hear My Voice

There must be something critically wrong with my voice. I just can't figure out why I must repeat something at least 3 times with increasing volume before Twelve and Ten are able to hear me. What confounds me is that when I am out in the "real world", or even at work, everyone seems to hear me just fine! I don't have to raise my voice at all! It must be the acoustics in my home and car. Has anyone else experienced this phenomenon? This has me completely perplexed!

I Don't Need No Stinkin' Reading Glasses!

I don't know how anybody can stand to work full time! I enjoy working 4 hours and 45 minutes five days/week, (as long as I need to work, this beats 8 hours 5 days/week). I start my work day anytime between 7am and 7:30am (actually I don't need to get there until 7:50 but I like to get there early) and I leave work by 12:30pm. My dh gets the kids ready and off to school every morning, and I am there to pick them up every afternoon. Well, these past two days I have had to work until 3pm. Now if you currently work 9-5, please don't jump all over me! I chose the field of education because I enjoy working with kids, and I liked the hours (I didn't pick the field of education for the "fabulous" pay)...but I am a part-time employee, receiving part-time pay (that is when I actually receive my pay check, see previous post)...my work day should end at 12:30, that is what my brain registers on a daily basis. So when I had to attend meetings, both yesterday and today, and I didn't get to leave at the regular time...I ended up with a rip-roaring headache. Now I figure that this headache must be from working those extra hours. I figure this headache is in NO WAY related to the fact I have been straining my eyes everytime I try to read something. Can I help it if all of a sudden the light is not bright enough? Can I help it if all of a sudden the fonts on all written material is suddenly too small? Can I help it if my arms suddenly don't seem long enough? NO! I can't help it! My headache is here because I had to work extra hours...(this is my story and I'm sticking to it!) There is no way that I need reading glasses...I mean...reading glasses...aren't they for old people?

Not A Happy Camper!

I work for a large urban school district. The powers that be decided to switch to a new payroll system. The powers that be decided not to test-run the new program. Didn't get paid yesterday :~( Got paid today...should put a happy face there, but...didn't get paid for all the days that I worked. Can't decipher said paycheck...Think people in charge of payroll have spent too much time with "Blogger Word Verification" and now speak only alien...I am not a happy camper!

What Does It Mean?

Yesterday I noticed that everytime I wanted to comment on someone's post, that I was required to type in a group of letters in order to verifiy that I am indeed a human being and not a computer. It must have been a slow thought day because I started wondering why these group of letters looked like an alien alphabet? I mean what exactly does "xztpvq" and "zqgxxy" mean?

My Mother Made Me Do It!

Well, we were down to, pretty much, just bread and water in the house, so I decided to take my 85 year old mother to the "big warehouse store" in our community. I went armed with a list of 10 items. I was bound and determined NOT to deviate from said list. Yeah, right! Since my mom was with me, I felt obligated to go up and down every single aisle...I mean she needed the exercise...right? So we walked up and down every single aisle, and I couldn't help it, I heard items " calling to me". I heard them say ..."If you knew that we would be here, you would have put us on your list, so just go ahead and buy us, it's allright." I tried to resist...really. I just couldn't help myself. I mean who couldn't use: a new shirt, 3 ink refills for their printer, 16 razor blade refills, 24 packages of breath mints, 10 packages of spaghetti, and of course water...lots and lots of water...????? It wasn't my fault...my mother made me do it!

It IS Just A Game!

My son, Ten, likes to participate in various sports. He enjoys soccer, basketball and baseball. As a result the year is filled with his active participation in one sport or another. Both my hubby and I are happy that Ten likes to be active (that is when he isn't hogging one of the computers) lol. My darling hubby really likes baseball the best, and through his enthusiasm for the game he has, I think somewhat unconsciously, steered Ten to have baseball be his favorite sport as well.

Well, a few weeks ago they had "try-outs" for baseball. (Can you believe try-outs for little league???????). Out where we live there are two divisions for each level of little league. There is the "A" division which is highly competitive, with stressed out coaches as well as extraordinary pressure placed on the boys to play well. Then there is the "B" division which is still competitive, but on a lesser scale. In the "B" division, the ability level of the boys range from very skilled to never played baseball before. The coaches, while still somewhat competitive are far more "relaxed" than the "A" division coaches and there isn't as much pressure put on the boys if they are in a batting slump, or if they make a mistake.

Now out where we live, although I guess it's probably true in other places as well, there is a competition among the parents for the bragging rights to say "My son plays in the "A" division! Why these moms and dads feel it matters which division their son plays in is beyond me. I figure that the most important thing about playing baseball is that I want my son to have fun playing the game. Sure he needs to practice good sportsmanship and be a team player, and I would always want him to play to the best of his ability, but I let him know that the world doesn't end when he's in the middle of a "batting slump" or if he misses a pop fly or grounder. In "A" the coach would be all over him, as would his teammates. In "B" the coach might be frustrated, but he/she wouldn't necessarily take it out on the boys.

During my son's tryout, my hubby told me that Ten hit the balls way out into the outfield, he pitched 2 strikes and 1 ball, he caught the pop flies, but missed the two grounders. My husband was upset that this would mean that Ten would not be drafted into the "A" division. Now, please understand, if through the tryout procedure Ten qualifies for "A" division, I would deal with that (I wouldn't be too happy because I think that there is an unreasonable amount of pressure placed on these young boys), and conversly, if he qualifies for the "B" division, I would be O.K. with that too. My hubby, on the other hand, feels that our son is a good player, and wants our son to be in "A". (big surprise). Hubby feels that Ten would play up to the level of the other boys, and improve his game. Ten is completely oblivious to all of this.

The reality is that it is out of our hands. The only decisions within our power are: 1) whether or not Ten plays baseball and 2) if he is drafted into the "A" division, whether or not we will let him play there. I have tried to explain to my hubby that I strongly believe that things, whether they seem good or bad at the time, happen for a reason. We may not know what the reason is at the time, but eventually it will be revealed to us. I am trying to impress upon my hubby that if Ten belongs in "A" he'll be drafted onto an "A" team, and if the competition and pressure are not what Ten needs in his life right now, then he'll be drafted onto a "B" team. As a parent, it will be my responsibility to be sure that Ten is enjoying himself. Whether he is drafted in the "A" division or the "B" division, he'll get to play baseball, improve his skills , and hopefully have fun along the way... after all... it IS just a game!

My Epiphany

I had an epiphany today. This whole "blogging" thing is, for me, the answer to my "I bored and want to go shopping for a great deal, and will probably come home with more clutter" problem. Now I find that I am spending so much time constantly checking my blog for new comments as well as checking my favorite "bloggers" for their new postings, that I don't to want leave my computer to go to the store. I still need to go to work (boo hoo), pick up Ten from school, and then drive Ten and Twelve to their various afterschool activities. I just don't want to leave the computer if I don't have to. Twelve and Ten are not too happy with this turn of events because now I am "hogging"my laptop and they actually have to share (oh whoa is me) the other home computer. Of course this could become a huge problem when we are down to just bread crumbs and water.(LOL)

Losing Independence

I just finished reading a post by "clawless" regarding what happened to them when "Big Momma" and "Big Daddy" could no longer safely live independently and needed to be move to an Assisted Living facility. It got me to thinking (which can sometimes be a dangerous thing!). I started thinking about my mom, and her journey from independent living to living in my home.

My father died almost 6 years ago. While he was alive, my mother took care of him...taking him out to lunch everyday and looking after his medications. When he physically began to fail, my mother decided to hire someone to come in and help him get up out of bed, walk to the bathroom, get dressed. During that time my mother (who was in her late 70's at the time) continued to work two mornings a week. She said that she worked to give her some time away from my dad, I think she liked feeling wanted/useful/needed, plus I think she enjoyed the mental stimulation and personal relationships that she developed at her work.

After my dad died, my sister and I began to notice a gradual change in our mom. Over time (about a 12 month period) we noticed that she began restricting her driving to two places in her long term memory ( a restaurant that she and my dad used to eat at a lot...and the pharmacy where she picked up her prescriptions). We started to worry when she no longer went out to lunch everyday... saying "I was too tired", "I didn't feel like going out" or "I didn't feel like getting dressed today". When she went to the doctors, she had lost weight... we figured out that she probably was "forgetting" to eat. It wasn't that she was depressed and wasn't eating (although she may have been depressed missing dad)... she was truly "not remembering" to eat.

My sister and I started comparing phone conversations that we had about our mother, noting that mom was having a more difficult time remembering what she had done that day. We realized , after leaving the state of denial, that our mother... the woman who was self-sufficient and fiercely independent... should no longer be driving., and we realized the only way to take away her driving privileges was to move her out of her apartment. The big question was "Where would she live?"

Both my sister and I realized that it would be too stressful for us, if our mom moved into some sort of "assisted living" place. Why????? Because, we both knew, since mom's memory was failing and we could no longer count on her to be a good historian, that we would feel that we "had to" each visit her at least once a week, just to be sure that she was o.k. With two kids, working part-time while they are in school, and then dealing with their "extracurricular activities" I couldn't figure out when I would find the time to visit her. This was stressing me out big time. My husband (for this story ONLY I will call him "Saint") suggested that maybe my mother should move in with us. Now in a movie, the music would reach a crescendo, my mother would be happily ensconsed in my home and the scene would fade away, and you would just know in your heart that my mother was happy in her new home. But hey, this is a blog, not a movie although if you need a bathroom break right about now, go right ahead.

Fast forward about 8 months (it took that long to build a bedroom and bathroom downstairs for my mom to live in). My sister, mom and I cleaned out 30 years of apartment living and tried to reduce moms life into that which would fit into my house. So moving day comes and Mom moves into my house. Both my sister and I figure that we can relax now...we know that mom is eating 3 squares/day and we're figuring that she is being well cared for and so the logical conclusion would be that mom would be joyful and blissful in her new abode. WRONG!!!!!

About 1 month after mom moves in, I find her crying in her room. Now you must understand that this is the same woman who only cried when HER mother died or when she was watching a sad movie. Yet...there she was, crying! My first thought was to sneak away and pretend that I didn't see her crying. (I tried to rationalize it as "giving her privacy to work through her feelings)...Of course that was b.s. I was uncomfortable seeing her cry. Yet I tentatively approached her. Just my luck, she actually felt like talking about her tears. (Why couldn't she have picked this time to wipe her tears and tell me that she was fine??????? Couldn't she see how uncomfortable I was...isn't it supposed to be about me, me, me?????) But I digress...

It turns out my mom wasn't unhappy that someone else was making her meals, she wasn't unhappy because someone was doing her laundry, she wasn't unhappy with all the activity that was now going on around her...she was depressed and trying to come to terms with her Lost Independence. She was frustrated that instead of being able to "go to the store, or the post office, or wherever", WHENEVER she wanted, she now had to ask for someone to take her. She didn't like having to ask to be taken somewhere and really, who could blame her after a long life of being able to pick up and go whenever she wanted. I know that I wouldn't like it one bit!!!!!!!

I guess the point of this epic is that it doesn't matter if someone ends up in an "assisted living" situation, or living with a relative...there will be a time of adjustment as the person says goodbye to their independent life and works to accept their new dependence. As for how my mom is doing now...well that's a story for another blog.