Boys, Oh Boys...

Oh, where has the time gone?

I was blessed (and cursed) by bearing two sons. Jake is 14 going on 84. Tyler is 10 and is actually pretty cool when he’s not saying, “But, MOOOOOOM!”

I think all of you know I've been divorced, and the boys were the product of my first marriage. Most of you know they live with their dad almost 2 hours away in Des Moines. It’s a sore subject for me, because we were already divorced amicably, but I lost my job and had to move or live out of my car. I chose the former and was punished financially and emotionally by a year long court battle that I received absolutely NOTHING out of except heartache and debt. He got everything he wanted and more.

This weekend has been frustrating on many levels. It’s a 3 day weekend for the boys, so they are here until tomorrow. That’s been pretty nice not to feel so rushed. However, we have a lot to do since the next time I see them, we will drive across the country to South Carolina for Spring Break, and I can already imagine the arguing and fighting and complaining that I will hear in the car on the way there and back. We've never driven so far together in a car before. We've always rented a van, but this time the vacation is long, and the cost of the van is outrageous.

This weekend Ty has argued with me about wearing a heavier coat, eating snacks, watching TV, and has whined constantly about all the things he wants to be doing because he is bored. This is while looking at pictures of Hawaii from my parents’ recent vacation, and after having gone ice skating and to the play “Clue”. His favorite phrase this weekend is, “Mom? Oh wait. I was gonna ask you something but I just know you’ll say no. You never say yes.” Ugh.

Jake, on the other hand, has always been a complainer. He thinks everyone is stupid, especially his little brother, and everything sucks. He’s a grumpy old man trapped in a teenager’s body. Always has been. His life is just horrible according to him. He hates school. He hates summer. He hates reading. He hates his brother. He hates chores. He thinks homework is boring. 

I got a text from his dad tonight: “Check ur email & rip into Jake for his bullshit grade in math. I will be talking to him when he gets home. He won’t be doing anything but studies & homework until his grades r up.” So we got online and checked his grades. D in math. D in Social Studies. F in Technology. I ask him what Technology Class is and he can’t explain it to me. “It’s kinda difficult to explain (mumble, mumble). I hate technology.” He also says, “I hate computers.” Oh dear Lord. He is in TROUBLE. That’s all his future holds. Technology and computers. This is why he is an 84 year old man.

While we were on Infinite Campus (the site his school uses to post grades, late assignments, the calendar, etc.) we looked at his missing assignments. Some of them he didn't even know what they were. Some he said he never received. Yet he doesn't think about checking this website every day to see what is missing so he can follow up with his teachers (because he hates computers).  He had several assignments that were 8 days late. I wanted to strangle him.

During the text conversation with his dad, his dad said: “Gunna try his meds again. See if that helps. If it does, he’ll be on it for school.” This is a man who has worked at a pharmacy for 18 years. I had to argue and fight and scream for Jake to be put on medication the first time around, and I don’t understand why he was taken off. I said as much, and his reply was, “I took him off because he was doing such an awesome job in school & keeping his grades up to A’s & B’s. 1^st half of the school year at least.” My thought was WHAT SCHOOL YEAR? And Yes, genius idea to take him off of something that is helping. Because if he is talking about this school year, his first term grade point average was 2.7. That does not equal all A’s and B’s. But then again, we’re talking to someone who probably didn't have an A in anything except P.E. He also didn't complete college (he spelled it “collage” when talking about the boys’ college fund) and had to take the pharmacy tech exam more times than you can count on one hand to pass. I’m no PhD, I don’t have a Masters either, but I don’t write “ur” or “gunna” or “ya” even when texting. It makes me CRAZY. And nauseous thinking this man is in charge of the boys and their education.

Jake has to get all of his missing assignments completed if he wants to go to Jeff Dunham on Wednesday night (his birthday present) to see Walter the puppet (his identical twin - in thought at least.) I will be incredibly sad if I have to find someone else to go.

I have no idea if I frustrated my parents this much. I loved to read (still do) and enjoyed school, and did well without being reprimanded. My brother was another story though. I don’t think anything got through to him, and I worry it will be the same thing for Jake. Nothing will work. He might regret it when he’s older. He might not care if he’s happily ensconced in his dad’s basement, sucking down beer and playing video games at age 35. I don’t know. I’d like to say it’s not my problem, because according to the courts, it’s not. But he’s still my kid and I still want to do whatever I can, limited as my options are, to help him succeed and ultimately be happy in life, if that’s even a possibility for that 14 year old grumpy old man. 

My Mind is Like a Steel...Sieve

There's a running joke in my family. We call it "Cindy" disease, after my mom, who constantly misplaces items and forgets things. I've shown signs of it throughout my adulthood, but now it's getting serious. And frankly, scary. I'm only 39, for Christ's sake. Why do I feel like I'm elderly where my mind is concerned? 

I tend to write myself notes all the time. I even email myself when I am laying in bed at night and I remember that I need to do something, because I KNOW I will forget if I don't. I write notes on the bathroom mirror in transparency marker, so I see whatever it is I need to remember when I wake up and brush my teeth, because sometimes the email isn't in front of my face enough. I have to put reminders in my calendar to call my boys every other Friday when they aren't here, and to write this blog, and to send update emails monthly to one of my manufacturers. 

I need to find ONE place to write notes, because I find myself at my desk, my notebook in my purse or work bag somewhere else in the house, and I need to write something down. So I grab any piece of paper... And then promptly forget about it. Just yesterday I found a note that I was supposed to send a designer a sample. I had even emailed Eric to see if he could do it when I was in Kansas City last Friday, but he didn't get the message until late. I remembered when I got home that I needed to do it, and even went downstairs to look for the sample and found that I was out of that one. I promptly forgot all about it until I noticed a note buried in a legal pad yesterday while I was on a conference call. So this is now a full week after the sample request. And of course, THEN I remembered that I had more of that particular sample in the small "new collection" sample boxes we are to distribute, just not in my normal sample set. Why had I not thought of that the week before? And why, between my trip from the basement to look for it initially, and coming upstairs, did I completely forget about my task? 

This past Wednesday I went to Target to get a few items, ultimately ending up in the electronics section for a little gift for Eric, and since I was done shopping, I decided to check out there instead. I realized when I opened my purse, that my billfold was back home on my desk. Why was it there? Because I don't like to bring my whole purse to volleyball, and just take my billfold so I have my license and money in case I need it, and put it on my desk when I came home the night before instead of in my purse. At least I remembered where it was. It was better than the time I decided to let the dogs road trip to Target with me, and in getting them in the car, left my purse on top of the car and drove off. Luckily some Good Samaritan found it and put it in between my front doors. That was the LONGEST drive home ever. I've also gone all the way to Des Moines and only had my license in my purse, because I had gone on a bike ride, and put my license in a small wristlet wallet and proceeded to put only that in my purse, not my whole billfold. Luckily I still have a credit union in Des Moines that knows me and let me take out some cash because I needed gas. And lunch. And I was there for a hair appointment. 

I got up from my office chair the other day and made it the six feet to the doorway before I paused to try to figure out why the hell I'd just gotten up. I had to go back to my desk, and scroll through open browser windows before I figured out that I had gotten up to go to the kitchen to figure out whether the avocados on the counter were ripe enough to put in the fridge. This happens more that I'd like to admit.

I got a tax form in the mail 2 weeks ago. The last place I remember seeing it was on the dining room table. It's missing now. Along with an earring that I last saw in the kitchen, a scarf that I last saw in the coat closet and 1 each of 2 pair of fuzzy slipper socks that were last seen in my bedroom or laundry basket, so now I wear the 2 mismatched remainders together. I did, however, find the packing tape I've been looking for for 3 weeks, on the bookcase in the living room. Why? I have no idea. 

I give presentations for work and I can't think of the words I want to say. It's no longer a fluid presentation. There are many pauses while I think it through. And they are always simple words like "mold" or "pattern".  I'm given lists of discontinued items to pull from binders at the beginning of the year, and yet continually find old products in binders that I had already been through, because new product binder cards were in those binders. From several new launches. How did I miss pulling the old stuff on 3 separate occasions? And it's at multiple clients' so it's not just some intern pulling stuff out of a trash bin and replacing it. It's clearly me. Forgetting. 

Almost a decade ago, when I started a carpet rep job, I was told to go to Minneapolis to shadow the rep up there. I packed up my suitcase and ran an errand. I realized I had forgotten my shoes, so I went back home to get them. I got to the hotel in Minneapolis, opened my trunk, and THERE WAS NO SUITCASE! I had walked right past it in the hallway on my way to get my shoes, but it never registered. I drove all over looking for new clothes for the next day, along with some pajamas, make-up and hairbrush, ultimately just getting everything at Target. I was happy I had my shoes with me though, because at that time, it was really difficult to find size 11's. Since then, I am incredibly worried that I will do that again. I've stopped the car midway to a destination to pop the trunk and double check.

I was told by many people at my 20th class reunion this past summer that they had wonderful memories of playing flashlight tag at my house in junior high and high school. I don't remember most of them playing with me. I had one classmate tell me I rode around in the trunk of her car once. I don't have any recollection of that either. And I have no idea if I can trust the memories I DO have. Hell, I remember being good acquaintances with Eric in high school, but he says we really never talked except one time when we were developing pictures for yearbook. I didn't even remember he was in that class. 

People tell me their life stories. And they aren't just acquaintances. They are really good friends. But I forget. And I'm too embarrassed to ask again. I can't remember why one friend doesn't talk about her dad. Had he passed away? Did he take off when she was a kid? Was there ever a relationship between them? I have no idea. I can't remember. And most of my clients are designers. Some of them went to UNI, like I did. Some of them shared the same horrible professor I had, and we chat and we bond over our experiences with her. Then a year later they say something about UNI, and in my head I think, "She went to UNI?" 

It seems that more and more often, something happens that makes me question whether something is truly wrong with my brain. Sometimes it's small things like not remembering how to spell words that I have spelled a thousand times before. Other times it's big things like leaving my purse on top of my car. It's bright red. How did I miss it from letting the dogs in the back seat to turning around and me getting in the front? Regardless, it's happening much more frequently than before. 

Today will be spent making list after list, and checking them again and again, because I am going to Minneapolis tomorrow with a friend. And if I forget my IKEA gift card at home, like I did the last time I went, I will be mad. If I forget the IKEA bags to take home all my goodies, and have to buy new ones, I will be mad. If I forget my pajamas or toothbrush or fresh socks or heaven forbid my purse or cell phone, I will be mad. And not just mad in the general sense, but mad at myself for forgetting something so simple, especially when I had a note, SOMEWHERE reminding myself to pack that item. 

None of my immediate family has ever had Alzheimer's. But my worry is growing nonetheless. I am just glad I have a reminder in my calendar to write this blog, so I have something down on "paper" of my life, for when I am sure to forget it all. 

Events That Shape Us

I do a lot of driving for my job as a sales rep. I cover the whole state of Iowa. In less than 2 years, I have managed to put 60,000 miles on my car.

I discovered audio books on my first solo vacation after the split with my ex-husband when I drove from Des Moines to Pittsburgh. “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” kept me more awake than the upbeat CD’s I’d made myself.  Don’t make fun. I wanted something lighthearted and fun, and got it. I even listened to it again on the way home since I hadn’t thought I would get through the whole thing on the way there.

I’ve now discovered, thanks to my great friend, Ninya, the Overdrive app. I can now listen to books without switching CD’s by just downloading digital copies of audio books from the Cedar Falls Public Library right to my iPad. This way I can continue listening in my home as well, instead of sitting out in my car to see what happens next.

I've been listening to “Girls in White Dresses” by Jennifer Close. It’s a story of a few friends who, while dealing with their own heartbreak, career choices, and family pressures, have to attend endless rounds of weddings and bridal showers. At one wedding, one of the main characters’ boyfriends tells her his friend is dating someone who could be JonBenét all grown up. Her last name is never used, but anyone who lived through that gruesome event just KNOWS who the author is talking about. Over and over, the name JonBenét is used, as the character can't even remember this girl's real name. It got me thinking about all the things that happen during our lifetime, and how just one word or image can trigger certain memories.

So here are some words or phrases that are memory triggers from events during my lifetime. For some of these, you only need one word, and your mind fills in the rest. You think about where you were when you heard. You think about how old you were and how times have changed, or haven't changed. Some of these are heart wrenching tragedies and others are odd news stories that spread across the world or even scientific accomplishments. If you are close to 40 and older, you should know what every single one of these means. 

Challenger

“If the gloves don’t fit, you must acquit!”

9/11 (even when this score innocently comes up in volleyball)

Chernobyl

Berlin Wall

Exxon Valdez

Cold War

Waco

Lorena Bobbitt

Mad Cow

Unabomber

Princess Diana

Y2K

Columbine

John Hinckley Jr.

NASA Rover

Katrina

Virginia Tech

I’m sure this list is missing MANY events and that there are events closer to home that shape us even more, like the death of a loved one, or meeting that special someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, birth of a child, injury from serving our country, etc. The above named events are somewhat universal. Even if they only happened in America, the story spread further. It was odd to me when I mentioned the Exxon Valdez to my oldest child (thought I don't quite remember why), and he had no idea what I was talking about. I’m used to people knowing. But he hasn't learned it in school yet, and it didn't happen in his lifetime.

What are some events that impacted your life?