Hello Monday.

I have been so busy getting nothing done, you'd have a hard time believing it.

Too busy to socialize even when the friends are sleeping on my couch and it's only ten o'clock at night busy. (I know better. I *have* to be in bed and asleep by 11 or I. WILL. PAY. The next day. I was not disappointed the next day to be right in this regard.)

I am pleased that I was able to at least take my mother shopping and to lunch for her 85th birthday. I am NOT pleased to report that tired children need different handling is a concept widely understood, and ending up with hysterical as well as exhausted child the same evening does NOTHING to improve me after spending the entire day prior (yes, a work day) providing child care, and being run around town getting nothing accomplished. And oh yes, I get to do much the same this afternoon! (Except kid will be in school instead of being in the back seat being shuttled between pillar and post while the adults get their act together.) Instead of having a 'do an errand and go back to work' day, I get to take it as a sick day. I get 6 of those A YEAR.

I'm not impressed. Frankly, I need a few days to get over my pissed-off.

To the good - last night was ramen, which was inhaled by kid and both of us alike. (It was followed by some of the most amazing *drama* surrounding bedtime ritual which just about broke us both, and left us shaking our heads. I have some ideas, but holy merde. Bedtime is turning into a battleground - welcome to school age!)

It also included a trip to the Sunday buffet at El Torito - which now includes extra helpings of pineapple-mango salsa ON EVERYTHING. (Mango allergy alert - yup, that's me who can't have any - anaphalaxis anyone? My treat? NO?) I'm going to have to take this one off the list - not much I could eat safely and I'm still wondering about what I couldn't see. To the good - kid will eat tortillas - although he ate tortilla chips wrapped in tortillas as the test case. Oh well.

One evening, Harold fell down the front steps of their home and was taken to the hospital. Based on their medical directives alone, Clay should have been consulted in Harold’s care from the first moment. Tragically, county and health care workers instead refused to allow Clay to see Harold in the hospital. The county then ultimately went one step further by isolating the couple from each other, placing the men in separate nursing homes. Ignoring Clay’s significant role in Harold’s life, the county continued to treat Harold like he had no family and went to court seeking the power to make financial decisions on his behalf.

Guys, I know I've written about this. Mom had a case like this one she was late coming home one morning from - when I was 11 or so. That's 1972? (That one? Partner had died in the ER, and it was 'oh hey, no family and who are you Mister Roomie? You can't even call the mortuary - but the head nurse here can, you just go sit down over there.')

WE'RE STILL HERE? Why yes, yes we are. How quaint.

And the best part is some people think I'm lying to them when I discuss the subject in these terms. How lucky for you, I think to myself. How very fortunate for you not to have had this experience - now go find that heart you had at birth and put it back in your chest. GAH.

I have plenty of angry, anybody need some?

The day is young.

Hello Monday.

I have been so busy getting nothing done, you'd have a hard time believing it.

Too busy to socialize even when the friends are sleeping on my couch and it's only ten o'clock at night busy. (I know better. I *have* to be in bed and asleep by 11 or I. WILL. PAY. The next day. I was not disappointed the next day to be right in this regard.)

I am pleased that I was able to at least take my mother shopping and to lunch for her 85th birthday. I am NOT pleased to report that tired children need different handling is a concept widely understood, and ending up with hysterical as well as exhausted child the same evening does NOTHING to improve me after spending the entire day prior (yes, a work day) providing child care, and being run around town getting nothing accomplished. And oh yes, I get to do much the same this afternoon! (Except kid will be in school instead of being in the back seat being shuttled between pillar and post while the adults get their act together.) Instead of having a 'do an errand and go back to work' day, I get to take it as a sick day. I get 6 of those A YEAR.

I'm not impressed. Frankly, I need a few days to get over my pissed-off.

To the good - last night was ramen, which was inhaled by kid and both of us alike. (It was followed by some of the most amazing *drama* surrounding bedtime ritual which just about broke us both, and left us shaking our heads. I have some ideas, but holy merde. Bedtime is turning into a battleground - welcome to school age!)

It also included a trip to the Sunday buffet at El Torito - which now includes extra helpings of pineapple-mango salsa ON EVERYTHING. (Mango allergy alert - yup, that's me who can't have any - anaphalaxis anyone? My treat? NO?) I'm going to have to take this one off the list - not much I could eat safely and I'm still wondering about what I couldn't see. To the good - kid will eat tortillas - although he ate tortilla chips wrapped in tortillas as the test case. Oh well.

One evening, Harold fell down the front steps of their home and was taken to the hospital. Based on their medical directives alone, Clay should have been consulted in Harold’s care from the first moment. Tragically, county and health care workers instead refused to allow Clay to see Harold in the hospital. The county then ultimately went one step further by isolating the couple from each other, placing the men in separate nursing homes. Ignoring Clay’s significant role in Harold’s life, the county continued to treat Harold like he had no family and went to court seeking the power to make financial decisions on his behalf.

Guys, I know I've written about this. Mom had a case like this one she was late coming home one morning from - when I was 11 or so. That's 1972? (That one? Partner had died in the ER, and it was 'oh hey, no family and who are you Mister Roomie? You can't even call the mortuary - but the head nurse here can, you just go sit down over there.')

WE'RE STILL HERE? Why yes, yes we are. How quaint.

And the best part is some people think I'm lying to them when I discuss the subject in these terms. How lucky for you, I think to myself. How very fortunate for you not to have had this experience - now go find that heart you had at birth and put it back in your chest. GAH.

I have plenty of angry, anybody need some?

The day is young.

Hello Monday.

I have been so busy getting nothing done, you'd have a hard time believing it.

Too busy to socialize even when the friends are sleeping on my couch and it's only ten o'clock at night busy. (I know better. I *have* to be in bed and asleep by 11 or I. WILL. PAY. The next day. I was not disappointed the next day to be right in this regard.)

I am pleased that I was able to at least take my mother shopping and to lunch for her 85th birthday. I am NOT pleased to report that tired children need different handling is a concept widely understood, and ending up with hysterical as well as exhausted child the same evening does NOTHING to improve me after spending the entire day prior (yes, a work day) providing child care, and being run around town getting nothing accomplished. And oh yes, I get to do much the same this afternoon! (Except kid will be in school instead of being in the back seat being shuttled between pillar and post while the adults get their act together.) Instead of having a 'do an errand and go back to work' day, I get to take it as a sick day. I get 6 of those A YEAR.

I'm not impressed. Frankly, I need a few days to get over my pissed-off.

To the good - last night was ramen, which was inhaled by kid and both of us alike. (It was followed by some of the most amazing *drama* surrounding bedtime ritual which just about broke us both, and left us shaking our heads. I have some ideas, but holy merde. Bedtime is turning into a battleground - welcome to school age!)

It also included a trip to the Sunday buffet at El Torito - which now includes extra helpings of pineapple-mango salsa ON EVERYTHING. (Mango allergy alert - yup, that's me who can't have any - anaphalaxis anyone? My treat? NO?) I'm going to have to take this one off the list - not much I could eat safely and I'm still wondering about what I couldn't see. To the good - kid will eat tortillas - although he ate tortilla chips wrapped in tortillas as the test case. Oh well.

One evening, Harold fell down the front steps of their home and was taken to the hospital. Based on their medical directives alone, Clay should have been consulted in Harold’s care from the first moment. Tragically, county and health care workers instead refused to allow Clay to see Harold in the hospital. The county then ultimately went one step further by isolating the couple from each other, placing the men in separate nursing homes. Ignoring Clay’s significant role in Harold’s life, the county continued to treat Harold like he had no family and went to court seeking the power to make financial decisions on his behalf.

Guys, I know I've written about this. Mom had a case like this one she was late coming home one morning from - when I was 11 or so. That's 1972? (That one? Partner had died in the ER, and it was 'oh hey, no family and who are you Mister Roomie? You can't even call the mortuary - but the head nurse here can, you just go sit down over there.')

WE'RE STILL HERE? Why yes, yes we are. How quaint.

And the best part is some people think I'm lying to them when I discuss the subject in these terms. How lucky for you, I think to myself. How very fortunate for you not to have had this experience - now go find that heart you had at birth and put it back in your chest. GAH.

I have plenty of angry, anybody need some?

The day is young.