Life's Little Speedbumps

Ever notice how you can't enjoy the good things in life without a little of the bad things thrown in for good measure?

Lately, it seems Big Dave and I have been encountering more of the bad than the good.

Big Dave's dad is not doing so well after his strokes and operation. He's still on a feeding tube, still cannot move without a wheelchair, and is in pain much of the time. Fortunately, we were able to get him into a good nursing home. Now we have the fun task of trying to get him onto Medicaid, because Medicare will run out in December. So we have been helping Dave's mom try to get the paperwork in order. This is proving much more difficult than previously thought. We have been trying to navigate through the Medicaid system, and it is filled with roadblocks, landmines, atomic warheads and potholes the size of Texas. When you can get ahold of a live Medicaid person to talk to, whatever they tell you may or may not be the right answer. The next person you talk to will tell you something completely different, and tell you the previous person doesn't know what they are talking about. More often than not, instead of getting answers, you get pushed right back to square one. And if you don't get the application perfect, you run a very high risk of getting denied or getting delayed in funding. In short, it's a bureaucratic nightmare. And it doesn't seem to end.

Even the lawyers don't seem to know the Medicaid rules. We have talked with elder law attorneys, estate planning lawyers, and lawyers specializing in Medicaid, and they are all telling us something different. It's enough to make you scream and beg the pencil pushers for mercy.

Where's the Me That Was?

I used to be a very independent person. Just ask anyone, and they'll tell you that I enjoyed being on my own, to do whatever I wished whenever I wished. I had strong opinions about most everything, and wasn't afraid to share them. Most issues were black and white to me. Things were either wrong or right.

Fast forward 15 years. I have been blessed with many things over the years - a loving husband, a healthy and happy daughter, and a home to call my own. I am thankful for these blessings a thousand times a day. But for a long time it has felt like something significant has been missing from my life, and I think it's this:

I feel less like myself now more than I ever have before.

Let me see if I can explain it.

I am now known as Dave's wife. I am also known as Kaylee's mom. Very rarely, if ever, am I known as just me. Just Kathy.

Don't get me wrong: I love being a wife and mother. But it's not all I am. There is so much more to me than diaper changes, bottle feedings, dishes and laundry. I'm not just about business meetings, bank conferences, and investments.

But the rest of me just seems to get buried underneath the day-to-day chaos that makes up life. I don't get "me" time. I don't get to make decisions by myself. I don't get to enjoy something that's just mine. For now, it's all shared with my family, and maybe that's as it should be.

But there' s a part of me that misses the old me. The Me who could make an instant decision. The Me who could give you an opinion and spout various facts to support that opinion. The Me who could get frustrated and lose her temper. The Me who was Just Me.

I'm wondering if there will ever come a time when I can reintroduce the Old Me to the New Me, and they will peacefully co-exist.

Or is the Old Me really gone forever, and I should just learn to move on?

Maybe You Can Explain To Me...

How a four-month-old can create more laundry than 2 adults.

How a baby can sleep through day-to-day noises such as a ringing phone, vacuum cleaner, and dog barking, but will awaken and cry out once Mom sits down to eat a meal.

Why no one ever tells you that baby dookie can be green, projectiled, and/or smell bad enough to make the dog run into the other room and rub his nose in the carpet for several minutes.

How a baby can fall asleep at 6pm, and sleep until 6am the following morning, and the diaper manages to hold the resulting backlog. No leaks. Impossible, you say? I call it a miracle.

How a baby can have 300 teething rings lying around the house, but still prefers to knaw on your hand or fingers to alleviate teething pains.

How a baby can poop on you, spit up on you, knaw on you, and head butt you (gaining control of those neck muscles is a tricky business), and yet you're still glad to see the little tyrant every morning.

If you know the answers, please let me know. You are waaaay smarter than I am.