Tuesdays are for tempests in teapots…or, in this cold weather, just for tea…

J and  I hurried to the bus stop this morning, not so much because we were late, but rather because we were trying to keep warm.  It is seriously cold out there.  It is so cold that J, who usually is very blasé about temperature, was voluntarily wearing gloves and a scarf.  When the gloves started to slip from his hands a bit, he made me pull them up and tuck them under the cuffs of his jacket.  Because schools were on a 2-hour delay, Dada and TGG were long gone to their workplace by the time the bus arrived; J and I were waiting on the corner, trying to stay out of the breeze while others sat in their cars on the driveway.

If J was sniffling and coughing yesterday (an obvious attempt to get attention, warm blankets and oodles of affection,) this morning he was the picture of health.  On Sunday morning we had breakfast with his Pandora account streaming the Blossom Dearie Station we created, and it wasn’t long after he was done with breakfast that J decided mid-morning on a Sunday is as good a time to dance as any other.  With a smile so broad it was worth being photographed, J swayed, spun, hopped, twirled, twisted, shimmied and sashayed around the dining room table while Dada snapped his fingers to the beat and I did my best to keep up with his exertions.  This morning, since we had to consume an extra two hours before leaving for school, we did chores and inserted vigorous bouts of dancing in between laundry, drying dishes, making beds and cleaning counters and tabletops.  In the midst of all the enthusiastic dancing I made a mental note never to let J watch Royal Wedding so he doesn’t get any ideas about dancing on the ceiling like Fred Astaire to the tune of You’re All the World to Me, or any other tune for that matter.

With a little over a week to go until his 18th birthday, and with his doctor due back in the office today, I am hoping that the end of the week sees me in court, filing the petition for guardianship/conservatorship.  I don’t know how well my nerves are holding up.  I’m sure some of my anxiety is related to the legal tangle in which we are right now, and the rest of it I will (as usual) blame on peri-menopause because it’s there and it might as well do something other than just wake me up in the middle of the night with hot flashes and profuse sweating.  My internal calculator is adding up all the expenses involved in this, and I am wondering if I should go back to work.  Of course, I then start agonizing about what would happen if J needs to come home early, on a snow day, during vacation…  (We always joke about me writing cheap tawdry novels, but I don’t have the heart -or the sense of humor- to do it with gusto.  I can’t even think of writing a sex scene without laughing my head off…imagine what would happen if I ever sat down to actually do it!)

I am sure all these things will be sorted out in time.  I just need to stay focused on what is important and take matters as they turn up…hopefully one at a time.  For example, on Friday we finally got the form from the school district to authorize J’s use of his iPad with the Proloquo2Go at school.  The teacher attached a post-it note that read: DO NOT write down if he has 3G or 4G as only Wi-Fi is allowed!  They won’t let him bring it otherwise.  I couldn’t stop myself from replying with a HA!  I can’t afford ONE G, let alone 3 or 4.  Between us, and this is tremendously confidential and embarrassing, I have NO IDEA what they mean by 4G, but I assume it’s something that would give J access to stuff he’s not supposed to get at school.

We are still seriously considering a move across the street this summer.  The more I think about it, the more comfortable I think everyone would be.  Also, the more I think about it, the more overwhelmed I am by the financial implications of this decision, and by the amount of work it will generate for me.  August 1st, which would likely be the move-in date, is a Thursday…people will have to take time off from work to assist in this endeavor.  Surgical precision will be required in packing, labeling and distributing all things to be moved.  J’s room will get packed last and unpacked first…I am already hyperventilating about this…and it’s not even the end of January.

The last time we moved, the distance we had to cover from door to door was greater.  We divested ourselves of many belongings that wouldn’t have fit in the truck.  This time around the move is shorter, the space is bigger and we have months and months to plan ahead.  I have months and months to plan ahead.  Hard-earned wisdom reminds me that no one else will care how this is done (except, perhaps, J) in spite of their protestations to the contrary.   I know this because they already get distracted when I start asking for opinions about the whole endeavor.  Everyone wants their space and comfort, and they simply don’t care how they get there…the very notion that it’s an across-the-street move as opposed to an across-the-country move is A +++ for them.

All this (what I have come to think of as the Scylla and Charybdis of life) is making me wonder if I am simply just looking for things to occupy my mind with.  I seriously wonder this, even though I know and am fully aware that I am busy enough as is with everything that is ordinary to my life.  I had a birthday a few days ago and I took some time to seriously ponder if, at heart, I am a melodrama queen.  I reached the conclusion (hard as I tried to convince myself that the opposite is true) that I cannot possibly relish drama and crises because I am constantly cheering the end of one or the other.  I am not, either, a much-put-upon person that Destiny (or Fate or God or whatever you think sends us hurtling towards any maelstrom in the distance) has it in for…  Do I think too much?  Yes, but that has been my problem since I can remember.  I cannot see a problem without actually giving it thought and trying to tear it apart and solve it…

I can’t solve the weather (but I can manage my end of it…with layers and layers and layers.)  I can, however, solve the paperwork and figure out the way to move with as little emotional push and shove as possible.  Where will I find a way to get more money?  Ah…one mess at a time, people…one mess at a time!

 

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