Category Archives: Miscellaneous Blogs

Senior Moments

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Well another episode for my “Sandwich Generation,” vlog. My dad went back into the hospital. I broke him out already as it turned out not being serious. I was noticing the change in my reaction and behavior to this “Health Emergency” as opposed to 18 months ago when his health first hit the skids. (this picture is from right before his decline) Back then, the moment something occurred involving my dad’s health the muscles on my back and neck would get as taut as the cables on a bridge. It was all I could do to focus on Vivien, who was farmed out quite a bit to other caregivers as I raced around town for my dad, or made calls on his behalf.

This time, I took a deep breath, more calmly assessed the situation, and was again reminded how grateful I am that I am not an only child.  My sisters, mom and brother-in-law Kevin, have all pitched in for my dad over the last couple of years.  Before if I was more involved with my dad one day I might get resentful, now I know we all take our turns. I have it down.

I know how to be sweet as honey to the nurses—“HOW THEY DO THEIR JOB I DON’T KNOW.”  I also know when to be direct and take notes when speaking with the doctors. Now when we speak to doctors we only have one family member talk to them and then have a telephone chain explaining the conversation with the rest of the family.

This go around, before I went to the hospital for the second day of this health emergency, I worked out and got my nails done. Giving over my life to health issues doesn’t seem to be a winning formula for me, or my life.

The part I can’t get use to is seeing my father so diminished. I can’t get use to the crazy guy in the hospital room next to him who WOULD NOT STOP SCREAMING. I had a flash of understanding elderly abuse. I can’t get use to being that close to my father’s personal self and then having to say to my dad lying in his hospital gown, “Hey dad, cover the franks and beans will you?” I’m not use to the smells, when I drop my dad back at his assisted living “home” almost gagging at the smell in his bathroom, “um, excuse me, can someone please come and clean this place?”

The thing about it is, I don’t want to get use to it.

Haircut 100

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Remember them (Haircut 100)? Loved their hit in junior high. Anyway, here is my new do. I got it cut last week. In the last year I keep getting shorter. Everyone likes it except my husband who misses my long hair. I have hair as thick as kudzu, so it’s nice to have a style without having to style. I had been doing a Katie Holmes/Victoria Beckham kind of wedge, but it was starting to look a little like a Dorothy Hamill (which I also had), so I asked my haircutter to change it up.

I do think I need to grow it again, because in 5 to 10 years I will be that age that starts to look goofy with long hair.

It’s not too much a “mom” cut, right? I don’t want a hairdo that goes with pleated jeans and a mini van. But, gosh it is easier.

Don’t Wake Me, I’m Having Sex with Someone Else

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I have to share an incident from the other night. I am preparing to host a show called 24 Inside. I do a few every year; it’s a web show about the Kiefer Sutherland show “24.” I interview the writers, actors, producers (though, ironically, in all the years I have been doing the show, we have never been able to interview Kiefer).  Anyway, I love “24,” and “24 Inside” is fun to do, as I get to work with cool people.

Kiefer Sutherland
Creative Commons License photo credit: ertarantiniano

To help me prepare for the upcoming shows, they sent me some of the already-filmed episodes. If you are a “24″ fan, this could make you salivate. I have to say I felt like I had gotten something coveted, like a picture of Brangelina’s twins, or the inside track on who Obama and McCain are picking as their VPs, or Botox for life (hmm, maybe not that good).

Anyway, back to the sex. So I have been watching an episode or two before I go to sleep (can’t watch it with Viv in the room, as it’s way too intense). The other night, I am having a happy dream where I have a pretty little home, I feel good, and I realize Jack Bauer is on my bed, ready for some loving. But he is making a goose sound and I worry he is about to kill or die, because that’s the threat on “24.” I slowly realize it’s the actor playing Jack in my bed, and now I’m really psyched.

So I am starting our big makeout, but the goose sound is still going. I say, “Kiefer, I am about to lick your backside, but you’re making a goose sound. Cut it out.” He is laughing and saying, “I’m not doing it.” Then my third eye kicks in, and I realize it’s my husband. I wake up and uncharacteristically, Mark is snoring like a friggin’ goose! I whack him: “You are snoring.” He shifts: “Oh, sorry”

But I couldn’t yell the other thing in my head, which was, “You have ruined my erotic dream with Kiefer Sutherland!” I fumed for twenty minutes before I finally went back to sleep.

It’s fun when you have a delicious dream that you wish to elongate… so to speak.

Toys Gone Bad

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You know how you cease to see your own junk, but if you go to someone else’s house, you can instantly see where some discarding and organization is in order?  Well, I just took notice of TOYS that need to go. First off, this sandbox came with our house and I couldn’t understand why the previous owners left such a darling sandbox.

sandbox

Then I realized that it was waterlogged, and mushrooms and weeds were growing out of it. Uncovered sand gets funky. Also, there were about 4 dozen old balls that were left by the former kids.  Vivien was excited to find them at first.

deflated play balls

But seriously, do any of these look playable? No. So did I chuck them when we moved in? No. For some reason, I left them around. I don’t know why, unless I thought my kid is so clever, she will find a use even for deflated balls. Yeah, like I ever found a use for those striped palazzo pants I got on sale.

I chucked the broken plastic today. The sandbox’s days are numbered.

Saturday Fun Day at the Dora and Diego CMOM Exhibit

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I’m trying to make it a new rule that there is at least one day that is just about Vivien – not me distracting her so I can do something else, or dragging her on my errands. I call it “[blank] Fun Day.” As in, whatever day it is. Friday fun day sounds the best, but I work this Friday, so that’s not going to work.

In NYC, we had Saturday Fun Day and took the subway (or underground train, as we called it for Viv) to the Children’s Museum on the Upper West Side. At the CMOM, as they call it, they presently have a hands-on Diego and Dora exhibit.

You run around a world that looks vaguely Dora- and Diego-like. She loved it! I feel like if I immerse myself in something like this for her for a couple of hours, then I don’t feel guilty when I say, “Okay, time for us to go to the cafe across the street so Mommy can have an espresso and croissant.” If they were smart, all kid play areas and attractions would have good food and coffee for the parents. That’s what I need in order to be fun.

I Hate When This Happens

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I’m in a public bathroom with Vivien. It’s sort of nasty and I keep hissing at her, “Don’t touch anything!” Like, she’s a finger away from the plague instead of the same gross old germs we always come into contact with. But somehow it seems worse in a public bathroom and one that does not appear to be well maintained. Also I feel so vulnerable, hovering over the can while I also try to corral my child who could touch any object if given the chance. And then this happens.

There is no catch to the cheap one ply roll. I keep trying to find the end and my quads get a workout. Finally I claw at it like a nervous kitty. “Get me out of here!” I get a snippet of tissue, wash our hands and then command Vivien like the commender of sub. “Dive, dive, get out of here!”