Sunrise in San Diego

My Catholic upbringing can't help but make me feel a little guilty when Sarge calls out my long absences here at the Chant.   The other day he wrote

"Now Tuna's postings are rather sporadic. But it's okay, he's in for the long haul, he posts when he can, and it's always worth waiting for. "  

I had to laugh at that one.  He's very kind to let me pontificate here, patient due to my periodicity, and a generous liar- always worth waiting for?  Maybe.  Yes, the spambots love me!  

I was once very regular here, no bowel jokes, please- with almost weekly albeit trivial posts, but life just got too busy.  I stepped away a few years back due to the demands of work, parenthood, and leadership in the KofC.  And while I'm still doing all that, the workload on a couple fronts is more manageable now.  However, finding time or the energy to write is rare.

Energy.  I never seem to have it in excess, that's for sure.  Neither physical nor mental energy.  Some of that stems from my work life, which is never bad, but it has been a little more hectic this past year, as has been my family life- more on that later.  My boss is counting down the days until retirement, to include an actual counter on his desk, and he's been adding to my workload.  He's trying to groom me for his job (Deputy Department Head) when he retires, but we often do the same thing, so that just means I'm doing more work.  I push back when needed, and he's ok with that, but I know they'll hire some retired O-6 for the job when the time does come.  We call it the O-6 protectorate society.  I've also been traveling quite a bit- with DC, Panama City, Norfolk, and Gulfport Mississippi out the airplane window all in the last three months.  This is also due to my boss, who has decided he's not traveling anymore.  I'm not at all happy with that development.   That last trip just ended this past Thursday, so I was gone for 4 days of The Artist being home for her 8 day spring break from college.    

Pinterest

No NYC was not on on any of my itineraries, but it's where my daughter's layover was on her way back to Savannah and it's on my wife's short list for a vacation spot.  That's somewhat of a stretch to make it relevant to this post, but I thought it was a cool picture to use here.

I think this is Lake Michigan and that I actually took this photo.

It was at the end of this post back in December that I first used my daughter's new moniker.  The title that day was  "Things are looking up" which really had a dual meaning, but I didn't elaborate.  I followed that on New Years day alluding to some health issues my family had been experiencing.  In retrospect, we'd been dealing with the same issues for about 10 years but it came to an alarming climax just after Thanksgiving.  My adult son, who is on the Autism spectrum and has low cognitive abilities, got a little a lot out of control, and overly aggressive and physical, mainly with my wife who was trying to calm him down.  There was more to it, but there was no real harm done.  However, we had to admit him to the behavioral health unit at a local hospital.  It was was pretty traumatic for all of us, but especially for my wife.  He was there for four days for observation and to get his medication under control.  He'd always had a short fuse, even more so since puberty, but it's often because he doesn't have the ability to communicate effectively, and gets frustrated easily, especially with us.  It's really hard to parent a kid with Autism on the best of days, but once he got big, strong, and even more stubborn, the household was frequently very chaotic.

At this point, the pictures are just something nice to look at.

While that was tough to deal with, it turns out it was somewhat of a blessing.  The hospital we took him to, Mercy Hospital, is where his grandmother trained to be a nurse.  I can't help but think that he was being looked after while he was there.  Just like any 22 year old living under mom and dad's roof, and under our thumb and our rules, he wasn't exactly happy.  He knows he's an adult and was tired of having us tell him what to do, even if it was needed and for his own health and welfare.  He was very remorseful after that incident and once his meds were correct and stabilized, he was more compliant, introspective, and he dropped his reluctance to living in a group home.  Things were definitely looking up.

We were very surprised after touring the very next home when he said "I think I'll like living here."  We moved him in in late January and he hasn't looked back.  The owner is a retired Navy guy and his wife runs the place.  There are four other special needs residents and three rotating staff members, all of which are really great with him. 

Since moving in, his attitude is vastly improved, he's remained calm, and he's actually happy to see us when we visit.  Him moving there has really been a huge weight lifted off our shoulders, no longer needing to expend all that mental and physical energy trying to care for him.  As it turns out, we were sort of stifling his development and his growing more independent.  What we were teaching him was important, but at that point, as his parents, we couldn't get through to him anymore.  He only saw us as his parents picking on him, but the staff members have had more success in areas where we had reached a plateau.  He's now pleasant to be around, more appreciative of us, and when the visits are over, he asks us to take him home. 

So while The Artist is away at school, we have an "Empty Nest."  The house is far more quiet, much less turbulent, and everyone is happier.  We've started indulging our "foodie" sides by visiting restaurants that we just wouldn't when he was living here, due to both having eclectic menus that wouldn't appeal to him, or we never knew if he'd have an outburst.  We've started turning his room into an office for me, which will likely be decorated with a "me wall" of some kind.  I was even able to bring my best girl along with me on one of those business trips.

On the beach in Seaside Florida (aka the city in "The Truman Show.)

I expect we'll settle into our "new" lives soon enough.  And if that leaves me more time to write, I'll let you know.  Sarge seems to be on a tear recently with his historical analysis posts, so I don't feel quite so guilty not writing myself.  If the post office stops losing my paychecks, I may have to change that.  By the way, with that opening quote, I know guilt was not at all what Sarge intended, but that's just how I roll.

Well, I have an NCAA Basketball Bracket to mark up.  Until next time.