i tend to get caught up in my kid's dysfunction. They can't seem to get theri shower running properly; that's two round trips, one to bring a kid here, one to take him home. they live out of the casey's - that's several times a day, and way too much money in the process. it's just how they live. i end up being the driver.

i would have long ago said, you do it yourself, but for my wife's insistence that, because they are disabled, they really need a hand. and in many ways they do. they can't hang onto money for more than five minutes, so they're often hungry. my son went through years unable to walk down the street; my wife accepted his explanation and it was clear he was uncomfortable in his own skin.

now from my point of view it's a matter of limiting the damage. when can i work, when i won't be interrupted? when can i carve out a few hours to do what I want? my life isn't really all that bad. we have enough money, enough food, enough of everything; i can't complain that they are taking food out of our mouths. and in fact, most of the money, as far as i can tell, comes out of my wife's retirement income which is substantial and which i really have no interest in controlling anyway. so it's easy enough for me to say, go ahead, spoil your son if you want, it's really between you and him anyway, even though to some degree i'm aware that spoiling a kid does him no favors. it's a tragedy but one i lost years ago and which i have no interest in reviving in hopes that maybe the odds will change. they won't change. as long as i'm here claiming he should make his own way, she'll step in to make sure he doesn't have to. to her recognizing his disability is first and foremost.

that may sound bitter, but in a way i'm saying that i accept it; i don't really know from disability, and i'm not in a position to tell her how to do it really. i have my feelings, my prejudices, built up over years of raising others and watching people, but they don't necessarily apply to someone who can't do basic functions that we all take for granted. such people should end up in institutions, you might say, and you'd probably be right, but this boy will at least have a childhood, and the feeling that he had the chance to live on his own and make his own way. what will he do when we're gone? he asks himself that question too i'm sure but it doesn't make him more able to do what he needs to. and the same goes for his friend. nobody is out there making them more independent, and they can only do what they have learned to do, which in most cases is not much. they've learned to be dependent. they're good enough at it that they are still alive.

in writing i'm steadily drawn into the era around the turn of the century (1900) when i find my great grandparents doing interesting things. i study them to pull together the background and the information from their families. it's part of my quest to really learn as much about my ancestors as i can. i was doing the language book for a while, but got bogged down and i have to write what i'm inspired to write. i hate forcing things and in fact can't seem to do it. if i'm stuck on something it's better to put it down for a while.

one thing i do have to do, however, is make sure i sit down to write every day. the blogs should be part of this; in fact, they are, to some degree. but i go days sometimes neglecting the blogs and everything else. i get caught up in my hearing issues or in my son's court drama, which now thank god is resolved. i get caught up in their stuff. i'm too easy to pull out of my chair.