Its Me Dad, Your Daughter

"My Baked Stuffed Life" has gotten bigger and more baked stuffed.  I take the good with the bad and I maintain my resolve to see the glass half full but it's not always easy.  I don't think life is meant to be easy.  I think its meant to be full.  Full of good things and bad things and challenging things.  Full of laughter and crying and giggling when you're not supposed to be giggling.  Its meant to be full of learning lessons and personal growth.  Well, I laugh and cry and giggle when I shouldn't so I guess I'm doing fine.  Still, it's not easy, except for the giggling part.  That part is easy and that's my favorite part so I'll grab hold of that nonsense and never let go.  Survival.

My day begins like yours--I hit the snooze button no less than three times before dragging myself out of bed, all the while cursing myself for staying up too late the night before. Waking is essential to starting my ridiculously busy day so choice is taken right out of the mix.  I get up.  Shower, clothes, wake three comatose teenagers, coffee and out the door.

Did I update Dad's white board?  Crap, he'll think its Wednesday all day long.  It's Thursday.  

On a good day the commute can be 35-40 minutes. In my head I quickly calculate what the potential for being on time to work is... 

     Waking up on time - 3(snooze button) - fender bender (not mine) = I'm late. 

 I use this welcomed commuting time, now unexpectedly longer than originally anticipated, to sort thru my schedule for the week.  Dear God how on earth will I get it all done?  I probably won't get it all done and that's just fact.  I'll get over it.  A full time job, three teenagers who want/need/deserve my time and direction, a house to maintain, a budding business to run that will remain in it's infancy unless I kick it up a notch, and then there's the newest addition to the schedule, my Dad.

Dad.  If you told me twenty years ago that my father was going to have several small and undetected strokes that would slowly rob him of his physical strength, mental awareness and, worst of all, his charming wit and personality I would have told you that you were crazy.  If you would have told me that this once independent man with an active life filled with travel and golf and friends and outings, would become dependent on me, his youngest child, for everything, I would have been convinced that you were nuts. If you had told me that in twenty years my father would not know me, I would have asked you why you would say such an awful thing to me?

Its happening.  Its happening to him, to me, to my children, and to our family dynamic.  It's happening in many families, too many families,  and its hard.  It's worthy of discussion and of information sharing and that's exactly what I plan to do.  

This is the first in a series.  I have no idea how often I'll be able to write--my time is not my own anymore.  If you are living my situation you'll get it, if not, then maybe this series isn't for you.

Be well.

xo

Michelle