Work has been insane lately. My client list is soaring. In a county I normally have few clients I have 9 new ones all at once. 9 doesn’t sound like much. Yet, it’s huge when it’s out of the norm. Why? Why are there SO many there suddenly? I’ve been asking at enrollment – Why? How did you end up at this level of poverty. The answers are the same – The slowing down of the oilfield. The loss of jobs. There aren’t new jobs. Poverty and stress leads to increased domestic violence, etc. Families are separating. Individuals are turning to substances to cope. Fathers are then just up and returning to where they’re from. Leave resourceless spouses here. The number of former stay at home moms is sad. The number of traumatic events occurring. It’s ugly. It’s only going to get uglier. Job security in a world I wish wasn’t necessary.
I am hoping it’s short term. Yet fearing it’s long term. What happens as it gets worse. Halting the Keystone Pipeline is killing this area. Killing people who thought they had jobs soon. Killing people who were working. Killing the self employed who haven’t paid into unemployment. Killing those who were idiots and exhausted their unemployment when there was still work they could have done. I have the biggest caseload in this region currently. Something that never happens. Something that makes me sad.
I have been filling better lately. I finished my 30 days of iron. I need to call to get my blood draw scheduled. However, I’m also beginning to fear that whatever virus Jax shared gave me ear infections too. My ears hurt and I think they’re getting worse instead of better. What in the world. So stupid. Today I made dinner and dessert tho. No drinking. Pretty impressive. Tomorrow we’re going to watch the college basketball game. Jaxon LOVES them. So do I secretly. Positive. Sober. Fun. I need to get the house clean too.
It seems like everyone I know is also getting foster babies. Babies are good for the soul. And I am lucky enough to do a great about if respite for these babies. So, we’ve got Baby D two days this week for sure. He’s 3 months old. I’ll continue with Baby W as needed who’s also 3 months old now I believe and I am in LOVE with. And then Baby L – 2 1/2 months old – as needed too. Her foster mama doesn’t need help as much but has asked if I could when necessary. OF COURSE. Somedays, I want my own soul food baby. They are all beautiful Native American babies with sooooo much hair and they are each gorgeous. Sadly, they were each born to mothers abusing substances, thus baby has problems too. It’s heartbreaking but so rewarding as you watch them thrive. Baby W was full of shaking & jerking from withdrawals. He’s now got adorable smiles and talking. The last time I had him I didn’t even notice jerking exciting for once. Soooo amazing what love can do for a person. And honestly, helping with these babies helps heal my soul and rejuvenate me as much as it helps them, probably more. Baby L’s mom asked why I don’t tell people I do respite – Ummmm, 5 families already know. That’s telling to me. I’m scared to announce it as I do have a full-time job. I also kind of like to be picky and just snuggle new babies through their withdrawals if you want the truth. Big kids are harder. Snuggling. Crying. Loving. Is my cup of tea. And teenagers. I love them too. Deep conversations, listening and feeding them are also fun. Elementary aged isn’t always my preference. I did tell her she can always refer people if she knows of someone in a bind but I was pretty sure most people that needed to know already do.
So, I’m staying healthily busy. Which is necessary. Tomorrow is Sunday. The last Sunday of the month. That means 8 full months since Kira was murdered. 8. That. That kills me. That still takes pieces of my soul. My heart. And crushes them. Twists them. Hurts them. Makes them beg to breathe and not feel. Kira didn’t really want kids or like them all that much. She’d tell me to get cats instead of random babies. But sorry friend, I’m sticking with babies. Sigh. I miss her so much. If I stop and just think I can still hear her voice. See her smile. Hear her laugh. Someday that will be gone. Someday her voice won’t come as easy.
It also marks 7 weeks since COVID stole Brenda. See, Sundays are simply a day of tracking death. I can also still hear her loud voice. At basketball I think of her so much. Gosh she was soooo loud cheering. I wish she was still here to cheer. Nobody knows where I’m sitting. I keep checking my Facebook memories. One of them has a video with her yelling. It’s got to be soon. Basketball season is now. It’s one of them.
I laugh at the memories and then get sad we’ll never make another one. They are done. Over. New memories with new people. Yet so many people are gone. It definitely stings.
With that, will I drink my Sunday away? No, I’m getting better about that. But yes, I will most definitely probably have a couple beers after the basketball game is over. Because it’s Sunday and when the last day of the month falls on a Sunday they’ve been harder and shittier to-date. Maybe this one will surprise me. Maybe. I sure hope so.