Crap still keeps happening.
Last night, while the family was eating at Hometown Buffet, out at a restaurant for the first time in months, our car was broken in, and the CD radio was stolen. Broke the window out of the passenger side, and assorted damage from break-in effort at the door. (Bean2's car, mainly. The family arrived in relays, with Hubbyne arriving last in that car.)
Hubbyone was last because he was obsessing over fixing the broken faucet in the bathtub --- even though I'd persuaded a good neighbor to look at it, Hubbyone was determined to do the most he could to keep the price down. Obsession is the catalyst to a lot of hardship escalating, a hardship magnet.
We buried Bubbyone's brother two weeks ago, the 9th. On the 8th the white van developed a scary noise en route to thrift stores in search of dark suits to wear to the funeral. On the 11th, en route to getting taken to work by Hubbyone, (I'd taken a substitute teaching job), the red car overheated to dangerous level, and I ended up sorta hitchhiking to work while he got the car towed. (And it was nearly impounded before his tow truck arrived for blocking the street; he had to argue with the police for it...)
Sat. evening, 12-16, I talked to Dad. He reported he had surgery scheduled for 12-26. Estranged father has suddenly rekindled relationship with me? He told me he loved me. He told me that the time he retrieves from surgery he will devote to getting to know my family. Next day he calls to tell me that all contracts made while on morphine are off, that he's completely sober now, and that the only way he'll let me back in his life is if I come crawling on my knees in apology to he and his wife, that I am banned from ever speaking to him or his grandson Kyle again. (A nephew of mine, son of brother's.) Making me cry like that made Hubbyone open up his pent up rage, bitterness, etc., and the scene resulted in a battle between he and the kids, with him making suicide threats. Hubbyone ended up getting taken away by the police, and was gone the next night at Research Psychiatric.
Strange reversal from that situation, briefly --- received a Christmas card from my oldest brother, ANOTHER estranged relative, containing a large sum of CASH, and very casual explanation. (Did he KNOW what an ASSHOLE our Dad had just been?)
The next day I pulled Hubbyone OUT of that place for lame "therapeutic" response --- wanting to take him off the blood pressure medication he's been on for 5 years, the ONLY medication that's EVER WORKED.
Hubbyone needs his sleep apnea machine adjusted. He has for months, actually, but now it would really-really help to get better quality sleep. At night he hears his brother's voice, very audibly, say, "I think I'm really sick this time. I'm really not well."
I feel like all I can do is rest up for the next crisis. The kids are still trying to make a 'normal happy' Christmas out of the situation, but it feels like it just won't stop.
Going to YMCA now with Hubbyone... (Routine>