Not Again

I spend a great deal of time trying to reason with others. There are moments where I think that maybe I should just go live on an island free of human interaction. Sounds severe but after a few conversations with my loving family, I am convinced that it would be best for all.

A few days ago, my mother called me with an issue. Due to her visual impairment, she has a talking watch that has needed to be repaired a couple of times. There is a jeweler in town that we use and he has been gracious enough to fix this contraption…..for free. Receiving is something she struggles with because she simply doesn’t want to owe anyone.

“He keeps fixing the watch for free and I sent him flowers, but I can’t continue receiving his services at no charge.”

“Why not? You have done a lot of business with him. He is just being kind.”

“No, I need to pay him. It is making me uncomfortable. So, can you call him and tell him that?”

“Ummm……no. I will not be calling him and sharing that his generosity is bringing you discomfort. Just say thank you. “

“You’re no help.” The conversation ends with a click of the phone on her end. I adore being hung up on by my 87 year old mother. I feel like I am parenting four people and yes, I include my spouse.

Speaking of my spouse, last night at dinner we had yet, another enlightening conversation. Bailey and Brian had gone to the U of L women’s basketball game. The adventure includes lunch because both of them are all about the food. Because of the propensity for individuals with Down syndrome to be overweight, I am diligent in helping Bailey with food choices. With his genetics – seriously, my kids hit the shit hole with this – diabetes along with a host of other delightful illnesses are likely to be inherited. So, Bailey has learned that if he chooses french fries, for example, he doesn’t need macaroni & cheese too. This is all well and good until my husband is involved. My head hurts from the thousands of times we have talked about Bailey’s food choices. But, when I am not around it is like the monkeys being released from the zoo. It is free for all and any conversations about food choices are ignored.

“Bailey, did you have a good time at the game? What did you have for lunch?”

“Yes, I had fun. For lunch, I had pizza, bread sticks, and cheese dip.”

In my head, I am thinking of ways to dispose of my husband. I am thinking a slow painful death, but honestly, I have a great book I am reading, so quicker would be more efficient with my time.

“Seriously, Brian? He doesn’t need bread sticks and pizza. One or the other is fine. How many times do I have to say this? “

Brian doesn’t say much because, well, he knows he is going to lose either way. I would love for him to be on the same page with me, but if he can’t make decent food choices for himself (he has diabetes along with a shit ton of other issues), how can I expect him to help Bailey with that?

“Oh, good. You are mad at Dad and not me.” Bailey was pretty pleased with that realization, but I did remind him that he is 23 years old and he is more than capable of making good food choices for himself.

It is a wonder that I am not in a straight jacket dealing with all of these entities. Is this karma for something that I have done prior? No, this is just life’s way of teaching me. Christ on a cracker, my head hurts from banging it against the wall. I should probably wear a permanent helmet as I don’t see a reprieve happening anytime soon.

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