And So I Begin....

Today on the first day of April , commonly referred to as April Fools Day I begin the difficult task once again of trying to make heads or tails of my crazy world, a world filled with so much uncertainty. 

April Fools Day, how apropos!

In the past when the shit hit the fan, as it inevitably will in all our lives, I've been able to mix a wild batch of laughter, tears, wine, sisters, friends and more laughter and empower myself to get up off my lazy ass grab life by the waist and take her for a long fun filled swing around the dance floor. 

But not yesterday.  I had a date with Darrell yesterday afternoon, a date that as it turned out, would never come about.  Why?  Because yesterday I felt like the shit had been beaten out of this old fat pathetic body and I couldn't get up.  Beaten up by of all people my beloved Wesley.

I had been blessed with the two eldest grandchildren, Abby and Wesley the night before.  They thought they had gently woken me early Saturday morning with giggles, snuggles and quietly telling me their plans for the morning.  The fact is I had been laying in bed listening to them in the other room enjoying the excited whispers and the soft pitter patter of their bare feet against my hardwood floors. 

Oh it should have been a glorious morning.  And it was and it wasn't!  My darling Wesley (who I admit is my favorite or at least today he is) is ADHD, a condition that can drive his parents, teachers, friends, cousins and his grandparents to distraction.  Wesley is a puzzlement; sweet, affectionate, fun loving, mischievous boy who in the blink of an eye turns into an mystery boy; a self centered insolent spoiled brat who showers his friends with short outbursts of rage and then sinks to the floor hating himself for showing his weaknesses.  But that is not my Wesley, that is his disguise to hide his insecurities.  The real Wesley is a super hero who hasn't figured out how to use his powers.  The sullen Wesley shows his ugly face when he finds he is unable to do as well as others then rather than show how truly vulnerable he is he goes into a self-pity sort of rage.

 I feel so vulnerable and helpless myself when he changes and I have no idea how I can reach him and give him the nurturing support he needs.  And this is where I confess I feel like a complete failure.  I love this child just as I loved his father and I don't know how to help him.

I had a date with Darrell yesterday afternoon; a date that never happened.  My grandchildren had put on a fashion show for me the day before (the show was truly a delight) and I couldn't find any of my clothes.  My house upstairs and down looked like a hurricane had come through.  I got so worked up trying to get ready for the date I completely fell apart, tears, tantrum and all that goes along with those extreme emotions.

Now let's get down to the rat killing.  What's this post all about? 

It's about me.  Who am I?

My grandchildren call me the "Fun Grandma" but am I really fun?  I feel like such a fake, a hoax.  I am not who I appear to be.  I thought I knew who I was several years ago, but that has changed now that I am this little ole woman living in a small broken down house in the poor part of a poor town.

And so I begin April 1st as the biggest fool of all.  A fool who has no idea who she is or where she is going.  Perhaps today I will find myself.  The search has begun.