9 07 2009

sds1One of Best Boy’s posse sent me this picture the other day and all I could think was at least he wasn’t in the driver’s seat while filming the pilot for a reality show. Knowing him – he’d try if he needed to.  Doing a million things at once – that is what he does.

Back in Spain during the earliest years of his fun with academia, there was about an 18 month span when he and Shop Girl attended The British School of Aragón where the uniforms were little gray trousers/skirts, maroon jumper (that’s a sweater – but you should know that by now) sporting a huge navy blue “B” – like the size of the letter on a letterman’s jacket – on the front.  As the dutiful Mom, I would cross the span of our neighborhood and wait for them to descend the steps of the school bus (that looked more like tour buses than the yellow and black things that would come to mind) after nearly an hour of post-school urban trekking.

Of course the first words out of my mouth were, “Did anything fun happen today?”  He’d usually just mutely shake his head but that utterance from me was all it took to prime Shop Girl’s pump before the gush of who-did-what-to-who-and-Maria-had-two-new-barrettes-and-Ignacio-stole-my-candy-and…I’d start to hear the whaaawhaaawhaa like Charlie Brown’s mom’s voice over the phone.  The difference between the two is that one lives it all on the outside and the other on the inside.

Looking at that photo of him mega-tasking, I ask if it is any wonder that he has migraines.  A few weeks ago he got a referral to a pain clinic looking to get accepted into their headache program.  The examining doctor said that he’s never seen someone carry so much tension in his neck, back and shoulders as Best Boy.  Hummmm-there’s news worth the co-pay. Of course, today’s mail informed him that insurance wouldn’t cover any of the 12 scheduled visits so he’s just left with a pain in the neck (head) and ass.  This never helps my cause to get a guy that hates anything medical to try and seek treatment.  So much for that attempt.  No more pain clinic – no more good physical therapy and biofeedback.  I love insurance.  Best Boy doesn’t exactly have $4000 to cover the out-of-pocket expenses since they allow him TWO WHOLE VISITS A YEAR.  Moving on…

tvWhen this tiny black and white console TV graced Billy’s living room, the plate spinners on the Ed Sullivan show fascinated me as a little girl.  There’d be that one plate on the far end that would enter into a precarious wobble going slower and slower till it was about to fall and crash into a million pieces.  The spinner would do an Inspector Gadget move, throw his arm out and give that long stick a wiggle when balance was instantly maintained in the universe with only nanoseconds to spare.  Timing – it’s all about timing.

There were too many things I was juggling on the calendar in the next few weeks and I was setting myself up for a crash burn. Today I made some phone calls – shifted things around and all the plates are still spinning.  It helps me to take a step back and really look at all the plates to decide what really needs to happen when, before I get myself into a total frantic mess trying to do too much.

New dates for the basement work at the Mrs.’ place:  end of September.  I was really looking forward to having it all over and done with but August suddenly has me driving to Nashville for a week and then attending four or more baby showers on different weekends – so September it is.  Spin baby spin.