Thursday, August 30, 2018

The end...new beginnings

Radiation treatments are finished. My anxiety level is decreasing. Very thankful.

We are constantly running to Walmart to pick up our prescriptions. There is a Goodwill in the same strip. I usually take my son as co-pilot. We usually pick up a few pieces of Corning Ware, and sometimes luck into finding bar ware that matches my glasses from Crate & Barrel. It’s amazing how many of these pieces my kids have broken over the years. Why not save quite a bit and replace them at Goodwill? While we’re there I spy an small blonde coffee table, probably MCM. It was under $10 and in very good shape. I was just drawn to it and went back a few times before I checked out, without it. I got home and I was still thinking about it. It was like the episode of Twilight Zone “About the Fever”, where the gambler is being chased by a slot machine that keeps calling to him by name, Franklin, over and over. Ok, not exactly, I just wanted to show off my knowledge of Twilight Zone minutiae. So I’m regretting not getting it. Thinking I could upcyle it and flip it. (Yes...I watch way too many of those shows and belong to way too many Facebook groups.) 

My daughter calls after dinner as she usually does. She is wound up, fast talking, complaining about something, as usual. She’s been wanting to get a mini fridge for her room with a lock because housemates are stealing food she buys with her job money. One is  eating my daughter’s peanut butter out of her jar with their fingers. Blech! She works too late to make dinner on the nights she is assigned. They’ve eaten hours before she gets home. So her team lead is making getting the fridge conditional on her doing her assigned meal nights and chores (on days she is assigned when she is on a home visit.) She is making getting the fridge conditional on things that are not doable. Girl went all the way to the top! She called the Director (that’s my move!) She explained the situation and the Director came up with a different solution. My daughter was offered the opportunity to move out into the community into a 1 bedroom apartment in a building owned by the same service agency that runs the group home she lives in. It’s a 20 unit, single floor, fairly new building. (My spouse and I went for a drive by between medical appointments.) The apartment is unfurnished, but comes with a stove and fridge. She will likely get to take her bedroom set from the group home since it was purchased using my daughter’s SS or state funds, but other than that she’s got to get everything else she needs. 

Today we had to drop off prescriptions after an appointment, so my co-pilot and I stopped by Goodwill...and the coffee table was still there! I tore that tag off right away! We also got her a kitschy salt and pepper set that we also saw yesterday. So I’ve been making a list, seeing what things around my house I can contribute. So far, my 1st Keurig (still works, I wanted the 2.0 with the Karafe), a hand mixer (who needs one when you have a Kitchen Aid Mixer?), and some other odds and ends. 

My daughter called me today, said she had already called the Director to ask about doing lunch next week. Lol! To be fair, it was discussed yesterday that they go out to lunch some time, I’m sure it wasn’t expected to be that soon.

I have to say, I am so proud of my daughter. I remember the days when she was younger that I asked her to go with her brother and find a sales clerk and ask them what she needed to know. Teach her to ask for herself. It started out badly with her in tears, but after a few times she got the confidence to ask. When she first moved into the group home she would call me with problems that came up and want me to handle them for her. In the beginning I did because living in a group home was a new experience and at times she was quite fragile. Then I began telling her what I did, how to handle the conversations. And now she is handling these things for herself! Next week is her 1 year anniversary at her job. She’s really rockin it! If someone told me 5 years ago that my daughter would be living at a group home, got a job, celebrating her 1 year anniversary, and moving into the community into an apartment I probably would have broken down in tears or punched them in the face for saying things that clearly were not even dreamed of 5 years ago. Life’s been hard, but it’s been good too.

Lola’s Diner c2008-2018

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