So, it's been one of those weeks from hell.
Hubby and I moved Mom into assisted living on Saturday. She wasn't really ready and we spent the morning sorting through stuff deciding what to take, what to donate, and what to leave. She had a meltdown after the buyer came to give her the check and sign all the paperwork. Oh, and the asshole buyer paid with a personal check - I thought Mom knew better, but she never insisted on a bank check. After everything was signed, he informed us the check wouldn't be good until midnight Monday because he had opened the account with a Canadian bank check, so his bank here insisted on a hold before releasing the money. Asshole. We got some small paybacks, though. Our bank (Mom, Hubby and I use the same one) put a three day hold on his check since it was from another bank...which meant 3 additional days before we released the signed title to him and we discovered a mushy spot in the floor near the air return. Have fun with the repairs, asshole!
Peanut started a fever on Sunday which spiked Monday night (we're not sure how high - he wouldn't hold still for the rectal thermometer, but we did get an underarm reading of 103.2 - too high for comfort). Motrin and a cool washcloth brought it down. We drove through a horrible hail storm to get to the doctor's office on Tuesday and Peanut freaked the eff out when I carried him from the car to the office. He managed to pull his hood off for about 3 seconds and got soaked. Then the power went off. At the freakin' doctor's. He has strep. For the second time in 3 weeks. This does not bode well considering I was a strep carrier and had it at least 3 times a year up until middle school.
I had to take time off work during my largest experiment because Hubby's Neanderthal bosses think childcare is the sole responsibility of wifey-poo. His supervisor gave him shit for hesitating to go out on a call the night Peanut's fever spiked. Hubby had already worked a 14 hour day and had only gotten 2 hours of sleep. Never mind Hubby was exhausted and sick and we were debating taking Peanut to the ER. Fuckers. But it's OK for his coworker to skip call-out with a headache, there is no problem with his other coworker who has health issues and has been on light duty, and therefore no call out, for a couple months, and it's peachy for another to come in late because she just HAS to have her nails done. Whatever.
Our idiot dog ran into me, knocked me over, and I sprained my ankle. It's OK now other than a little twinge here and there, but I'm sick of her knocking into Peanut and me.
Mom has decided that assisted living is a mistake. She lasted all of three days there before going into the hospital. Now she's talking about getting an apartment (a possibility if we can find something affordable and safe) or moving back to CT (Oy veh - not that AGAIN. Her disability isn't enough for an apartment much less utilities, meds, doctors, etc.) I'm frustrated, angry, and don't want to deal with it anymore. She's laying on the huge guilt trip about how I just want to get rid of her blah blah. I'm sick of "forcing" her into decisions she doesn't want to make (she and her shrink decided she could no longer live alone the last time she was hospitalized. I had nothing to do with that although I fully supported the decision.) Hubby and I suggested she give assisted living a few months but she's hell bent on getting out of there. So now she wants me to meet with the shrink and and the social worker to hash it all out yet again. Nothing is ever resolved. The shrink only wants to deal with meds. The social worker never comes up with a liveable solution. Last time it was the shithole assisted living. Sure, it was affordable, but Mom had to live with drug deals, broken toilets, leftovers several days a week, backups in the kitchen plumbing, and leaks in the roof. The time before that we got a list of assisted living places - the same one I've printed off the DCF website.