So...it's 1:06 am by my computer clock. I've been in bed for an hour, and can't sleep. I get up at 5:30, why aren't I sleeping?!? There are so many thoughts spinning around in my head! I feel like banging my head against the wall..but not really. If I were still in high school, I would have done that. Some of you who knew me then can attest to that. But now I have a better release, blogging!
I got into bed and started thinking of the things I need to do tomorrow. I need to get Andrew's birthday party planned, call my grandmas, hope Dane has a good day at work... Why do I hope Dane has a good day? Well, he found out Friday that he got a promotion! He will no longer be working with the chemicals at the plant, he will be in charge of the sales and data input, and also the deliveries. He's also found out that he's pretty much been tapped to be the next plant manager within the next few years. I'm excited and worried all at the same time. I'm worried because the owners and the VP are talking like he is "The Chosen One", their "Golden Child" per se. (Not Eddie Murphy's bald Buddhist Golden child, but you get my drift) I'm worried because they've told him that they want him to help them turn the plant around, take them toward the future. I'm not worried that he's cape able, because he is. I'm more worried that there have been 2 plant managers in the last 10 years who have been let go because THEY were the ones who were supposed to turn the plant around. I'm worried that he will work his butt off for 5 years, get the plant manager job, be awesome at it, but because the plant isn't performing at the level they want it to be, for whatever reason, they'll blame him, and that will be it. The plant manager now is the owner's son. He's a very religious man. He recently told Dane that god has told him in a dream that Dane is right where he should be. Now...those of you who know Dane and I know how much stock we put in dreams from god...but I hope the dreams this guy is having, don't change in a drastic new direction.
Is this it? No...not by a long shot. Remember when I said I had to to some planning for Andrew's birthday party? Well, he's turning 10 this year. TEN! Wow, time flies. One of the things I have to do for the party is to call and invite my grandmas. Ah...there's worry #2. Now, here's the problem: my Grandma Klueber. She is , or has been, developing signs of Alzheimer's or dementia. She forgets names of her great grand kids, and sometimes her grand kids. At the Klueber Christmas party, she had to ask who the baby belonged to. It was my brother's daughter, Gretchen. She's forgotten how to get to my mom's house that she has lived in for almost 30 years. The last time she drove, it took her more than 2 hours to get there, and she told us she started at the other end of the neighborhood knocking on doors, asking the people if they knew Phil or Becky Miller (my parents). Now...this isn't even the tip of the iceberg. Her short term memory seems to reboot every 15 minutes or so. I've joked it's become a drinking game: when grandma asks the same question, take a shot, but I know she has a serious problem and it's wrong to joke, but I feel so helpless. At Thanksgiving time, my Uncle Paul (my grandma's 3rd child) came from Alaska, and sat down with my mom (the oldest) and mu Uncle Chris. They asked her to think about giving up her keys. She said, if you take my keys, I might as well die! What we're all worried about, is not that she would die (don't get me wrong, we ARE worried she might get hurt...more about that in a moment) as much as the people she could hurt if she should forget what she was doing as she was driving. We are worried about her too. There was a story a few years ago about 2 women who had disappeared from an elderly apartment facility much like the one Grammy is in. They were found 2 weeks later, 500 miles away, dead in the car. It was assumed that they got lost, because of an episode of Alzheimer's, and wouldn't stop for directions, and well, you could probably figure the rest out for yourself. So, those are my grandma thoughts. And as many of you may know, my mom is almost the spitting image of my grandma, and other that getting my bad hearing, short stature and dark coloring from my dad, I am my mother's daughter. This will be me in 50 years. Oy.
Speaking of my uncle from Alaska, I also started thinking about all the relatives I have spread out all over the country. Alaska, Washington State, Texas, Colorado, Michigan. Not to mention all the friends who I've realized are all over as well! California, Michigan, New York, Texas again, Chicago...wow, I wish I could keep all of you safe. But at least I can let you all know you are loved and thought of (at almost 2 in the morning, no less!)
As if these things aren't enough...I'm the mother of a 10 year old boy. TEN! I'm almost 34, or will be 2 days after my boy turns 10. I'm supposed to be a responsible adult, but I sometimes don't feel like it. Boy was I a piece of work in high school, as many if you remember. My parents once threatened to send me to a shrink when I was 14 years old or so. Maybe I should have gone? Might have made a difference? Who knows? I got over the anger issues on my own through meditation and positive thinking. The meds help now! (no, really, they do!) I think back on my life and really don't have any serious regrets, other than no keeping in touch with friends I have made, holding a grudge for too long, and loving too much or not enough. If you read my New Year's message, I sometimes feel like a failure. But then I think about what I have accomplished...I do have a couple of good kids. I have a job I'm good at, and I like. I have friends and family who are supportive. I have a wonderful husband who is going to be doing great things with his job. But I still think: where's my mark? What will people remember me for?
So, here it is, 40 minutes later. As I sit here, I think, Did I accomplish anything? Will I be able to sleep? where do these thoughts go now? What if it isn't the thoughts that are keeping me awake, but the 5 cups of coffee and the 2 big glasses of soda?
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