Done and Dusted

Eldest is o-fficialy a licensed driver as of this morning.

Honestly? Signing him up with this driving school was the best thing I've done in a good bit of time. He was anxious about it the first day, but every day this week he's come back more confident. And, hilariously, the driver dude corrected some things (that I'd been trying to point out before, ahem) in a way that actually clicked.

Yay for non-family-member teachers, I guess? (They can definitely be good things at times. I'm not like many homeschoolers who believe my kids should only ever learn from me.)

Regardless, he's now free to roam at will and I find myself breathing a little sigh of relief that maybe my taxi driving can wane slightly.

Of course, now we have the anxiety of my kid out there on his own in our traffic, but life is full of tradeoffs.

Accentuate the positive

It's been quiet here because, I'll be honest, I don't have a lot to say that's positive. And given how tired I am of myself, I can't imagine anyone here wants to hear me ramble.

That said, I finally bit the bullet and signed eldest up for a behind the wheel thingamabob with an actual business. I'd gone through the rigamarole of getting the DMV to approve me to do it for him (because we homeschool), but OMG. 

The boy does not want to drive. He does not want to drive with me. He does a little better with Dad. But for real, it's been pulling teeth to get his 45 hours. And every time I was like, "Let's go do a lesson and get you closer to taking the road test!" There were reasons. And extenuating circumstances. And...dude.

So this week, someone else is coming and collecting him and we're getting it done and a) he's actually enjoying it and b) it'll be done this week (!) and then he can run himself all over the world instead of me having to do it. 

Woot!

I really don't get the "don't want to drive" thing. Back in my day (yes, that's said in a creaky old lady voice), I was chomping at the bit to get my license. We went to the DMV on my birthday so I could take the road test.

Ah, the good old days.

Snarky Desk Ladies

Between most of Friday and going on six hours today, I have been sitting in the waiting lounge of this neuropsych testing office and...I'm kind of appalled at the snarkiness of the front desk ladies. I imagine that they've forgotten that I'm sitting in here, for all that they can see me if they peer over the tops of their monitors. 

But they're doing callbacks to people who have had consultation calls to see if they're interested in moving forward with evaluations and...it's just kind of shocking the commentary they make to each other after hanging up. 

"Oh there's another one wasting our time." 

"Sure you're still thinking about it, just say no."

"If I had a dollar for every time a parent got mad about the cost, I could take a good vacation."

And so forth.

Do they not recognize that a) their assessments are stinking expensive and b) there is actually a lot of thought that a [good] parent is going to put into deciding whether or not to move forward?

Like okay, sure, in a perfect world, the parent would return a call quickly and either schedule or say no thanks, but life with kids is a lot. Life with kids who might need neuropsych evals? Even more.

Dunno. Just kind of taken aback by the complete lack of empathy in the front desk staff here.

Testing, 1, 2, 3

The psychiatrist that both boys see has been suggesting (read: pushing pretty hard) that we have more thorough neuropsych evals for both so we get a fuller picture of what we may (or may not) be dealing with.

We'd already done this once for youngest - six years ago maybe? - and she thought now that he's matured some it was worth doing again. Eldest has never had one. 

Hubs and I hemmed and hawed for quite some time about it, because, essentially, cha-ching.

It's not that we're opposed to spending money when necessary. We're just kind of on the fence about the true "necessity" of the situation. (And I feel like I've said all of this before? But maybe not?) 

Anyway, last week, we finally bubbled to the top of the list for neuropsych at Hopkins (because they take insurance, it seemed worth waiting two years) for youngest. Except it didn't end up being full neuro because "he didn't meet their requirements" for that. So yeah. Probably a waste of time? But I won't know for at least another week.

But today, we kick off a private eval for eldest. Starting with a 2 hour (!) zoom with the parents. To say I am unexcited is a definite understatement. I guess it's good. But meh. Anyway, then Friday and Monday he's at their office for long stretches of time to do the testing. And on the positive side, they can do whatever testing they want because it's not regulated by insurance.

On the other side, we get to pay for it all.

At least with this one I have slightly more optimism that they'll tell us something worth knowing. Of course, I've been wrong before, so I guess we'll just have to see.

Six Years

Mom died six years ago today.

I'm trying to decide if it's fitting that it's a dreary day around here. Mom enjoyed the rain. And the clouds. Although it's warmer that she would prefer for the weather (me, too, for that matter.)

I don't really understand how it can feel like a lifetime ago at the same time as it feels like yesterday.

And I'm struggling to decide if it's a good or bad thing to remember the day. 

I used to get so mad at my sister for all of her "bad thing X happened to me today" memorials throughout the year. "Just move on!" I thought. "Stop dwelling on it."

And while it's a little different - the loss of a Mom is definitely a bad thing, but it's not like the memorial of when a friendship imploded - I still wonder if not marking the day isn't the better choice.

I just don't know.

Not that I've done a ton of marking, mind you. It's been a full and busy day and I'm only just now getting a moment to sit and take a breath. But still, even as I ran around playing Mom Taxi, the "mom's gone" reminder has been just a little more evident in the back of my mind.

Not sure if I would be able to make that not the case if I tried, so maybe all of this is moot.

Anyway, life moves on, will you nill you. And honestly, that's probably a good thing.

On Paucity and Malaise*

Robbo pointed out that there was a dearth of posting on blogs he reads and I felt a little called out. Not unreasonably, mind you. Because there has definitely been both around these parts. And, as to the malaise, I'm so tired of me, I couldn't fathom that the rest of y'all weren't even more so.

(Ha. "The rest of y'all." As though there was a teeming horde of readers of this little pocket on the back side of the Internet.)

Regardless, Daddy and I flew out to Austin on Friday and then traveled south to San Antonio to inter my sister's cremains in the family plot. All but one of Dad's siblings joined us, and it was good to see them. I don't believe I'd seen any of them since we were in the same place to inter Mom's cremains.

My therapist (yes, because it's really that bad - which is not to say it has to be bad to go to therapy. I'm definitely pro therapy. For everyone else, ha. It took a lot to get myself there. And I can't say that I think it's doing more than eating away money, but supposedly it's a process.) asked if the service helped. I can see that it helped Dad. But me?

No idea.

I'm still generally numb and yet so overwhelmed by everything that I live life on the edge of some kind of breakdown (screaming rage? inconsolable sobbing? both together? no one knows - it's emotional tempest roulette around here.)

Like I said, even I'm sick of me.

Anyway, I did get to see my friend (I hesitate to use such fun terms as BFF, but if ever I had one, she would be it) who's hubby recently was stationed in Abilene. She and her fam were in Waco for the Baylor game and she and the kids stayed after so we could meet up without me driving 4+ hours to Abilene. (I would have, in a heartbeat, but 90 minutes from Austin to Waco was much nicer.) THAT was a delight and refreshing to my soul. It was one of those things that I wish could just go on forever.

We saw the Silos (because Waco. Can you go to Waco and not?) We toured the Dr. Pepper museum. (Super fun!) and then we spent the better part of the day talking and playing cards in the hotel lobby.

Then I came home to a filthy kitchen, over tired kids, an irritated husband, and...yeah, I wondered briefly why I returned.

Yesterday, things evened out some, but I can't say I'm enjoying the return to reality all that much.

Thus, for me at least, malaise is the defining reason for the paucity of posting round these parts. But I'll endeavor to do better.

Ish.

*HT to Robbo for the fun phrasing.

Bookish Thoughts: Thursday Murder Club edition

Over on the book of faces, I'm friends with she who was formerly known as Caltech Girl out in blogland. She shared news that the Thursday Murder Club books were in the process of being cast for movie making and gushed about not only how fabulous the casting was but also how good the books are.

Being always on the look for a good book, I snagged the first and gave it a read. I enjoyed it quite a lot, so went on to gather up the other three books (thus far) in the series. Yesterday, I finished the fourth book, and I have some thoughts. They're spoilery in nature, so I think I can add a fold thingy, but in case that fails, you've been warned. (Whelp, I tried, and while it did cut off the post here, it didn't give a link to click for more. So yeah. Here be spoilers.)

--- SPOILERY THOUGHTS ABOUND ---

The books follow a set of mid-seventy to eighty year olds who live in a senior community in the British countryside. You have Elizabeth, the former MI6 agent, Joyce - the grandmother next door, Ron - a former union organizer, and Ibrahim - a former and sometimes present psychologist. They're a great set of friends, formed by Elizabeth to, initially, discuss and maybe solve cold cases.

Of course they end up with hot cases instead.

I'm not going to go on and on about the plots - the mysteries are all quite fun and while they don't necessarily keep you guessing, they aren't supremely obvious. And really, they're more about the characters and the relationships than the actual murders.

And that begins to be some of the issue for me.

The first book, in the end, has one of Elizabeth's dear friends who is in the nursing portion of the community essentially in a vegetative state. And the woman's husband ultimately administers a fatal dose of something, sits with her while she dies, and then goes back to his apartment and offs himself.

In that book, or possibly book two, another gentleman not in the club, although Joyce is somewhat pursuing him, being a widow who misses companionship, take his own life because he's unable and unwilling to live without his late wife.

All throughout the first three books, Elizabeth is dealing with the fact that her husband is slowly slipping into the fog of dementia. This comes to a head in book four where, after denial and then conversations and a trip to a former KGB friend (it makes sense when you know Elizabeth), she and Stephen (her husband) decide that she'll dose him up and then he can die on his own terms and in control.

Now, I will never say that dying isn't hard. And horrible. I can attest from having seen it first hand now twice that it is both of them. And dementia is maybe worse than cancer, having seen that with hubby's mom. 

And yet, the subtle and not so subtle push that euthanasia is not only easy and painless but shouldn't be illegal and should be considered the height of sacrifice rather than, well, murder, is unavoidable in the pages of these books. And yet it remains subtle enough that I suspect most people won't sit back at the end and say, "Wow. What a propaganda for murder and suicide that was!" In fact, I kind of doubt that most people won't even consciously recognize that little push toward a change in thinking at all.

It's...devious. And I hate it.

Life is not ours to take. Not our own life. Not someone else's life - regardless of their age or gestation or physical state. (And yes, I am against the death penalty, too. Though I suppose I have complicated feelings on the military, as I do believe we have the right and obligation to defend ourselves. But that's a quandary for another day.)

Our broader global culture has shifted to the point of viewing life so cheaply that I just can't believe it some days. Other days, I believe it just fine, even though I also believe it pains God deeply. And so I wonder, not for the first time, if I am wrong for taking enjoyment from 98% of the books when the push to accept values so deeply different from my own is there in the other 2%. (Or, in book 4, 75%. Perhaps, had I not read book four, I wouldn't even be having this conversation.)

So, whereas I bought the first four books, going forward, I think they'll be library reads, if I read them at all. Will I watch the movie? I guess we'll see. I am very excited about the casting, but I'm also so disappointed with where the author took things time and again that now...I just don't know.

Read them, but keep your eyes open. (Then again, that's true of any media and something I think we are a people are forgetting to do on our slippery slope back into the carnal madness of ancient Rome.)