Uncle On So Many Levels
Today Ernie said to me, "Do you think we've let the guys be too much themselves?" I knew exactly what he meant. I just sighed and said, "I don't know." I get overwhelmed with it all sometimes. Our guys are both strong personalities and not really mainstream kids for better or worse. I know, I know, 'you breed weasels, you get weasels' and I don't know why I had this idea that I'd have nice normal children who played sports and went to school dances. And Lord knows I don't want anyone other than my sweet peas but I do struggle with how much I should be steering them in various directions. The kicker of course, is that they're getting damned hard to steer. Hell, I can't steer them in the direction they WANT to go anymore. I listen to friends who have their kids doing this and that and sometimes I just wonder if I'm doing it all wrong and worrying about the wrong things on top of that.
Sometimes I just want to cry uncle.
Yesterday was one of those days too, which perhaps is why my mind is going along this path. Nothing terrible...just..well...one of those days. I'm very, very busy at work and a bit overwhelmed there. That means I've got the same feeling I do at home. Well, I have to do this, this, and this, but that means I'm not doing that, that, and that.
Ernie picked me up from work and I reminded him we needed to run some errands at Target. We both sighed. We got halfway there and stopped by a long train. We sighed again and turned around and went another way...finally got there. We bought our list of items....a lamp shade, navy beans, a window fan for Owen's room, some socks, some hair ties for the whole family, and other odds and ends. I was o.k. walking but as we went my knee began to hurt worse and worse only to be offset by my right leg starting to get numb from the spinal stenosis. This happens when I walk too much sometimes. This led to me being somewhat grumpy when Ernie couldn't find exactly the right kind of hair tie he wanted in the SEA of fucking hair ties. I just grabbed some and said, "HERE." We eventually got to the register and I fear I was not at my best as he said, "Do you want to go wait in the car?" I gratefully accepted and almost melted with relief when I sat down. He is a very patient man.
Halfway through that Target trip we had gotten a hysterical call from Owen because the keyboard he'd been waiting for was marked delivered and yet...wasn't. Trying to get him off the phone was a challenge. No matter how many times we said we'd figure it out when we got home he kept going. Ernie is much nicer than I am...I would have just hung up on him. Instead I found myself hissing in the grocery aisle, "Tell him we'll TALK about it when we get HOME!" So lovely.
We finally arrived home. I was hoping he had just gotten tracking numbers mixed up but no, he was right. Ernie looked around and went over to an address near us that sometimes gets mistaken for ours to no avail. The histrionics in the household were mighty and strong. I had a freaking headache. Eventually Owen calmed and went upstairs, somehow having become a martyr in the whole situation. I have no fucking idea sometimes.
I sat and looked at Ernie and fortunately he understood completely, saying, "Well, our kitchen may be stocked with food, but do you want to order out?" I just nodded gratefully. When Papa Del's delivered Ernie took the pizza, tipped the guy, and shut the door. As he turned around his eyes were caught by something suspicious on the floor. He handed the pizza to Owen and examined the object on the floor cautiously. Poop. Yep, cat poop. Not just regular cat poop though....cat poop with WORMS in it. Yes, evidently one of our cats, or hell, maybe ALL of our cats, has worms. WTF? They don't go outside and Rascal has theoretically been treated. Lovely, another vet bill for FOUR cats. I just put the pizza in a low oven because I didn't really feel like eating right after the discussion about poop and worms. Ernie poured me a glass of wine and I just sat down and sort of stared at him.
Uncle.