Sorry for the delay…

I know I owe you a post, but life has been a bit busy here at our house. I spent all day yesterday at the zoo with Little Sis for her preschool field trip:

Little Sis gets licked by a geriatric deer

And today is Big Sis’ 8th birthday. We’ve already been out to breakfast to celebrate:

Big Sis celebr-8s. (Sorry...couldn't resist.)

And my in-laws (parents and brother) will be arriving this afternoon for a long weekend visit. The house isn’t clean, and I haven’t shopped for birthday presents yet. Also, the fridge is empty.

Need to do invites for the girls’ birthday party, and I’ve started on my San Diego recap post….

And should I worry that the package my brother-in-law sent warns me that it contains LIVE BUTTERFLIES?!?

Wish me luck!

What’s that beeping?!?

Well, Thanksgiving went better than expected. Maybe because I lowered my standards. Cooking went smoothly. I gave up on brining the turkey and just roasted it according to guidelines in The Food Network Magazine. Mashed me up some potatoes and put them in the crock-pot to free up oven space. Used my MIL’s recipe for a streusel-topped sweet potato souffle, and made up some Stove Top stuffing. My sister did the green bean casserole, and my MIL provided pumpkin bread and pumpkin pie. There was also a dutch apple pie from Eat N Park for my mom, who is on a renal diet and can’t have pumpkin. We also mashed up some cauliflower for her as a potato replacement. Cleanup was quick (thanks especially to my sister!) and relatively painless. Saved the turkey carcass to make Alton Brown’s chicken (or in this case, turkey) stock.

For entertainment, we had the Wii, plus Madagascar from Netflix. Then Friday afternoon we took the crew to see Madagascar 2. We came in late, so 8 of us (including 2 seniors) are stumbling through the dark to find seats during the opening credits. Not 5 minutes later, my in-laws’ cell phone rings. My MIL can’t figure out what to do with it, so she passes it to my FIL. He answers on the fifth ring. I’m cringing already. He answers in a normal speaking voice, not even attempting to whisper. “What?” he asks. The movie soundtrack hits a silent spot just as he hollers into the phone, “I THINK YOU HAVE A WRONG NUMBER!” The ENTIRE THEATER shushed him. I sunk into my seat.

Overall, everyone got along well, and the running joke became “What’s that beeping?” Add 3 senior citizens to the chaos of kids, cooking and cleaning and they get a little confused. They can’t seem to tell the beeping of the clothes dryer from the beeping of the coffee pot from the beeping of a text message from the beeping of a timer from the beeping of an incoming email. I don’t know why.

Now the last houseguests have left, and we’re spending the morning cleaning and decorating. It’s nice to have the day to ourselves. I’m thankful for that.

No thank you, Thanksgiving

It’s nine days until Thanksgiving. It sounds like a lot of time.

But I feel it closing in.

I was talking with Mom this morning about Thanksgiving. We’re having her, of course. My sister is coming in, as well as Mr. Hoagie’s brother and parents.

We didn’t exactly issue invitations…actually, I’m not really sure how we ended up hosting. If it’d been up to me (which it wasn’t), it’d be a VERY low key Thanksgiving.

My sister’s coming in this Friday so that she can watch the kids so Mr. Hoagie and I can celebrate an early anniversary (it’s November 30th). She’s great…the only family member who helps me keep my sanity.

My sister coming in early has been planned for months. Originally Mr. Hoagie and I planned a weekend trip to Vegas, but we couldn’t find affordable airfare. Now nothing’s planned. A bed & breakfast? Maybe a 4 star downtown hotel via Priceline? Who knows. Maybe just dinner & a movie at this rate if we’re lucky.

My brother-in-law is flying in Tuesday night, and my in-laws are arriving Wednesday. Mr. Hoagie’s parents, remembering an overcrowded Thanksgiving two years ago, wisely opted for a hotel. They’re planning to take the girls for a sleepover there for a night or two.

So no one will be able to bring a dish. I might get some kitchen help, but I’m lousy at delegating. And the last few Thanksgivings, I mashed my own potatoes, brined my own turkey and baked rolls from scratch. No pressure, right?

I’m fantasizing about ordering the whole thing from HoneyBaked Ham, but I think too many people would be disappointed and/or offended.

I’m so not in the mood for Thanksgiving.

Today, anyway.

WFMW: Flylady

Works for Me Wednesday

I’m sure a lot of people already know about Flylady. I first heard about her from my in-laws. My father-in-law was “encouraging” my mother-in-law to adopt some of her habits. (Which is ironic, because she does ALL the housework singlehandedly just fine, while her husband critiques her.)

Anyway, when I got home, I checked out the website and signed on. I’ve been “fluttering” along, off and on, ever since. I started fluttering a bit harder after hearing that one of my neighbors was a Flybaby too.

The great part is that you’re only asked to do what you can, when you can. Very slowly, I’ve learned to build habits. I “swish and swipe” my bathrooms, not everyday yet, but maybe three days a week, which still makes a big difference! I now do a load of laundry (almost) everyday. (Of course, that was partially instilled by the fact that our dryer died and we had to use the clothesline for about 2 weeks.)

Basically, housework feels like a lot less of an emergency. Which is a HUGE relief. I can see the tops of my kitchen table and counters a lot more often.

With each habit I acquire, I acquire that much more PEACE.

Peace TOTALLY works for me.

For more ideas that work, check out Works for me Wednesday at Rocks in My Dryer.

Love of Procrit

I believe I’ve mentioned before that my mom is anemic, so she needs a jolt of Procrit every now and then. We figured this out about four years ago, when mom fell at her home back in Illinois and couldn’t get up on her own. She was taken to the hospital by ambulance…and never went home again. She sold her home and moved without ever going back again; my sister and I got her moved out (don’t ask me about 1-800-GOT-JUNK; I was physically ill at the sound of my mother’s wineglasses crashing into the trash bin). Anyway, she was diagnosed with several maladies, one of which was anemia, which contributed to the fall.

So she had her last shot of Procrit last December, shortly after she moved to Pennsylvania. We’d gotten her set up with a new medical practice here (no small feat since her medical records are like phone books), and she saw the nurse practitioner. We’d tried to get her in to see one of the doctors in the practice, since her case is so complicated, but they assured us that LeAnn was wonderful.

And she was. Took lots of time with Mom and me, made tons of notes, wrote new prescriptions, and set Mom up with referrals to all the right specialists.

Cut to about a month ago. I notice Mom’s getting tired faster than usual, and she’s a little wobbly on her feet. “Maybe it’s time for another shot of Procrit,” I venture. She calls the pharmacy later that same day for a refill.

The pharmacy calls back. Seems that Mom’s prescription drug insurance company has changed, so they’ll need to get it approved by them first. Should take a couple of days.

A couple of days later, we learn that the doctor’s office needs to submit paperwork to the drug insurance company. Several phone calls ensue over a few more days, and we are eventually assured that the doctor’s office will handle it and get back to us.

The doctor’s office submits the paperwork…TO THE WRONG INSURANCE COMPANY. Argh! More phone calls. They resubmit the paperwork to the right company. We wait.

And wait.

Mom calls.

We wait.

She calls every day that week. Lots of conversations.

One of which involves the line, “We have other patients, you know!”

On Tuesday, I stop into the doctor’s office personally to inquire about the status. After waiting for about 10 minutes, they check Mom’s chart and assure me that the paperwork was faxed and they’re waiting for a reply.

More waiting. It’s been over 3 weeks.

Finally, Mom calls and tells the person on the other end of the line that if she ends up hospitalized because she couldn’t get her medication in a timely fashion, she’ll make sure the bills are forwarded to their office.

BAM! That got ‘em. The doctor’s office calls the insurance company to follow up on the paperwork.

Guess what? The insurance company NEVER RECEIVED THE FAX! They resend. The office calls to ensure they received it. They did. So we wait again.

This morning, Mom gets a call from the doctor’s office. The drug coverage was DENIED. Apparently, the office left a couple of spots on the paperwork blank, so they’ll need to be filled in and the paperwork resubmitted.

It turns out that the empty blanks were for blood test results. “Which doctor have you seen?” they ask her. “Neither,” she replies, ” I saw LeAnn.”

“Oh, she’s no longer with us.”

So now there’s no one on the medical staff familiar with Mom’s (complicated and detailed) health history.

She needs a current blood test, which Mom has never had in Pennsylvania, so now MY phone rings. It’s the nurse who’s been spearheading the process. She sounds really apologetic, so I can tell Mom’s ripped her a new one. It was justified, I guess, but I felt sorry for her anyway. I’ve been on the receiving end of Mom’s anger…it’s awfully chilly on that side of her cold shoulder.

The nurse tells me that she has an order for the appropriate blood tests, but is hoping that I can pick it up and deliver it personally–after all this, she doesn’t want it lost in the mail, for the love of Mike. Mom’s preference (and mine, actually) would be for the test to be done Tuesday morning. Someone from the assisted living unit of my mom’s senior apartment building can come to her apartment at 5:00 am and draw blood. That way, I don’t have to transport her, and she doesn’t even have to be dressed. Easy peasy.

But Tuesday is 5 more days. That’s a lot of time to wait. So I guess, gentle readers, I’ll be picking Mom up early this morning to shuttle her to have her blood drawn. This simple task will likely take at least four hours. Meanwhile, I still have a house full of in-laws.

I don’t know whether to be put out by the blood test or relieved of my in-law duty.

Will the simple errand take all day?

Will the in-laws feel I’m shirking my hostess duties?

Will my husband avoid the phone next time the caller ID says Chiquita is calling? (Duh.)

And what about…Naomi?

Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion of: Love of Procrit.

*********************

UPDATE: Mom had the blood tests. They came back NORMAL. Weird. So she’s not getting Procrit, although all this mess was enough to get her in to see the actual MD that’s been listed on her charts since December. All’s well that ends well, I guess.

The In-Laws are coming…back.

Ah, how time flies. It seems like my in-laws were just here. But they’re on their way back again to celebrate the girls’ birthdays. So after spending days preparing for the girls’ birthdays myself, now I need to have the entire house cleaned in…about 5 and a half more hours now. I’ve been doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen for over an hour and a half already, and you can’t even tell. *sigh*

I’ll plug on until about 10:40 am, then pick up Little Sis from school and come back. Then I’ll head upstairs to do the bedrooms and bathroom.

So this weekend we’ll have the four of us, plus my parents-in-law (Oma and Opa) and my brother-in-law. All trapped together in this house for over 3 days. Although Big Sis and I have plans to escape on Friday night: she’s going to a sleepover, and I’m heading to a fondue party in support of a girlfriend who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer.

So when choosing between my in-laws and breast cancer, I choose…breast cancer?? Actually, not quite true. I’m choosing melted chocolate.

No contest.

Let’s not even talk about Sunday: Mother’s Day. Oma and Grandpa will go to one church and we’ll go to ours. My mom will need a little attention, Oma will need some. I don’t expect any. Get real. And my brother-in-law has stipulated that he’d rather not see my mom. We have no flowers ordered, no reservations made. It may be a spectacular emotional train wreck.

Wish me luck this weekend…you may not hear from me for a couple of days! And I may need to schedule an appointment with my therapist early next week.

(Pray for me….!)

I picked a lousy day to cut back on therapy!

Just taking a short break from whirlwind housecleaning. I can’t believe how much I’ve accomplished today, but it’s just a drop in the bucket. Sad.

The in-laws should be approaching as I type this. Hope it’s an uneventful visit. But then again, if it’s not, I’ll have an earful for my therapist next week!

I’ll try to post more later. But if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because my FIL is hogging the computer!

The In-Laws Are Coming!

Not today. But soon.

Two days.

I keep looking around the house with a critical eye, wondering what they’ll see. “Why is it so cluttered? Can’t you part with anything?” (Ummm, no. It’s just that with two kids underfoot, I can’t seem to get anything ACCOMPLISHED. For long, anyway. Can’t you remember what it’s like?)

I need to wash the guest room linens and clean the whole room. Towels are in the washing machine now. This morning, I scooped up a LOT of dog poop from the backyard. Fresh slipcovers are on the sofas; I picked up snazzy new throw pillows at Target today. Along with a new (kids/guest) bathroom rug; we have two smaller ones in there now. That won’t do. The car got a quick once-over this afternoon; I’m entertaining the idea of taking it to get detailed. Maybe the dog should get detailed, too.

Most of the time when they visit I feel a mixture of pity and lack of understanding from them. Or maybe it’s just me. They just can’t understand why we do things the way we do. It’s certainly not the way THEY do it.

Argh.

I used to try harder when they came. More stress over cleaning and cooking. I was trying to turn the place into a bed and breakfast. Granted, I used to do this for any overnight guest, not just them, but I ached for their approval. Instead, they snubbed the dinners I’d worked on for hours and the basket of muffins I’d baked from scratch. Fancy gourmet coffee brewed fresh. Didn’t seem interested. Asked if we didn’t just have Folger’s half-caf.

Sigh.

Oh, we have a long history, we do. Over 15 years.

I’m stressed.