Manic Monday.

This morning went better then we expected, the tittle is merely a shout out to the song. We made it to school earlier than usual because P was home.  SS had a great sleep over, and although we went to bed early on Saturday evening, we caught a non SS appropriate movie on Sunday. Like dinner the night before, it was a surreal experience. No tiny but mighty person between us, making sure we did not touch each other.  We had dinner at the grandmothers' (sorry lazy, there are the Abus, and now grandmothers, no offense intended), awesome lasagna with a secret family recipe sauce that P had missed for the past 15 years.  SS enjoyed not only the grandmothers attentions, but also the attention of a good friend who was visiting. Sounds like attention hog heaven, SS's domain. SS had pool time (we were green with envy), and we are happy to report that they have not banned five year old girls, who were born in China, reside in Southern California with a Puerto Rican Mother, and Irish/Jewish father, from ever entering the community pool. It comes across as very DQ, but you never know what Hurricane SS will leave as an aftermath.  The three Ms (they share the same first name) praised SS's behavior, and P and I were wondering if they were being truly honest. Thank Goddess SS only shows her out of control behavior at home. This led us to reconsider posting, taking pictures of, and posting video of her true self. 

P surprised me by realizing that it was 6:50 p.m. and we had to get SS to bed.  This is not vile criticism of P, he just loses track of time. We thought we would be lucky to get SS down by 10:00 p.m.  Once home we went into speed the heck up mode and SS was in bed by 8:05. SS had an awesome time, collected many goodies, including skulls and bones pins.  SQUEAL!!!!!!!
We could tell she had a good time, and scored a soccer ball and leopard plush toy to take home. I initially said no, and hope did not hurt Nana's feelings, because I was not sure SS was being truthful.

We met with the pulmonologist this morning. His assistant asked me if I had seen him before (nope), then assured me that he was easy going, would take his time, and get to the root of my sleep difficulties. Yeah, whatever, right. It's been decades, and when I had my sleep study in 2005, the neurologist said I had less than 1% REM sleep,then blew me off.

I was glad P was with me, because once again he impressed the doctor by calmly detailing my insomnia psychotropic journey. I won't make excuses, that many meds in a year, and tell me if you can remember sh*t.

Dr. H thinks I have sleep apnea, although it was ruled out seven years ago.  The funny part was that when he described the symptoms of sleep apnea, P fit the bill, not me. P was very helpful about my restless legs. Seven years ago, no matter how much P mentioned it, my leg jerking was not taken into account. Even after my sleep study tech said she had never seen anyone so restless in her career.  We were impressed by Dr. H's  attention and understanding about nightmares versus night terrors. So many physicians are set on the mentality that night terrors are limited to childhood. 

Losing Papi at age 10 was perhaps the most significant event in my life. The first time that life was grossly unfair.  I could not understand it, let alone change it; and no one seemed to get that I had lost my father. Because as much as Hispanic families thrive with the concept of extended family, well, Mami was still standing, and so was Abuela.  Really, what the heck I had to complain about? This is NOT a slam on anyone, just how life works. Because although Papi was there for me, everyday, my positive, loving Papi,  ten years old is way too early to lose a father. It is why I treasure moments like the one depicted above. Baba is one awesome pillow, and has the best cuddle spot on his right side, either by his underarm, or by the crook of his neck.  I should know, those were my comfort spots until July 8, 2008.