Monday snippets

More of the same
I haven't posted much as life grinds on with no real news…just more of the same with me struggling to cope and H struggling to do just about anything. Really, I'm struggling to accept and my not accepting reality is why I struggle.

That must be frustrating
I've told H on many occasions when he's expressing his dismay at all he no longer can do, "That must be frustrating, honey." "Yea, it really is." What I don't say is that it is equally as frustrating for me (especially when I hear the same story over and over) and that makes me frustrated (but there's nothing he can do).

Better living through chemicals
Effexor is a wonderful anti-depressant in so many ways. I'm not longer in my deep, dark hole and for that I am glad; in fact, my mood is pretty darned good these days. But, the side effects are troublesome, from the slight agitation feeling, to the hot flashes, to the libido up, but performance down.

Nodding and muttering
I keep finding H sitting at his computer nodding and muttering. He tells me that he's daydreaming. This usually also happens when he's sitting at the dinner table, fork shaking in his hand while he's staring down the dinner plate.

Using the oven timer
Yesterday, H put some cinnamon rolls in the oven while I was doing laundry. He came to me and said he couldn't figure out the timer (on our oven that we've had for 20 years). When I went to check on the oven, he had set it to self-clean and then to a timed bake for 90 minutes at 400. I tried to explain what he had done, but finally settled for "only use the left button" for the timer.

Wish I could remember
H continually reminds me of things that need doing. Problem is that he doesn't remember that he's already talked with me several times about the chore and we've reach agreement on what needs to happen. Chances are, the task is already done. Challenge for me is to reply as tho' we never had a conversation about the topic…that's how H sees it after all.

Favorite quote of the day
"If you experience chronic difficulties in a particular area of your life, there’s a strong chance that the root of the problem is a failure to accept reality as it is," Steve Pavalina here.

The never ending list

Since I don't see H much - what with me working and him sleeping so much - whenever I do see him, he rattles off a list of what "needs to be done" and "we need to buy."

Now, I've written before about this, but H's requests for the list are doing nothing but escalating. And in the past I'd get all agitated about this (the "I have to do everything" martyr song), but now I'm less upset about the never-ending list.

Many of the things he asks for - cleaning the gutters, ordering pet food, new eyeglasses - are all fair game, but some are just bizarre.

My favorite is the pressing need to tear out a Laurel hedge in the back yard and replace it with a small building…a studio with power and water that we could rent out. The other fun one is that the 42" plasma TV that we have had for less than a year isn't "big enough," so we need to buy a 54" one. So not going to happen.

The other day, he was pressing on getting something done (I can't even remember what it was now) and I did get upset.

"Why are you so pissed off?" H asks me.

"Well, I can't keep up anymore with just what I need to do and you sleep all the time and then get up and tell me everything else you want me to do. And over time, you're able to do less and less, so you just assume that I'll pick everything up that you can't or don't want to do," I said. (AKA "the martyr song.")

"Oh, I don't understand, but I'm sorry." H said.

I thought about telling him that nothing happens in the house or our lives unless I do it, but it didn't seem worth it. So, I just dropped it as I often do. The trap is that I keep thinking that he can understand and empathize with my experience (he used to be able to), but of course he can't anymore.

The challenge is to take what I think needs to be done and talk him down from the others where I can. And since he often can't remember what he asks for, sometimes I just agree and then change the subject.

Peace in the house

Since the very brief conversation that we had, the tone in the house has been more peaceful, more gentle. No real whining, carping, no angry skulking from H.

Part of this is that between me stopping drinking and taking anti-depressants, I'm just in a better mood.

But most of this is just H and me clearing the air with a thank you and a you're welcome.

This isn't to say that all issues are resolved (far from it), but I needed to hear some appreciation to remove that chip on my shoulder. And, as much as I stuggle to not have any expectations or needs of H, I needed to hear him acknowledge what it is that I've done and continue to do.

Appreciation

We're in the office, surfing the Web and H says to me, "I love you (singleman's name).

"I love you too, honey."

H continues, "Thank you for not abandoning me."

"You're welcome."

Great resources for spouse caregivers

If you're caring for an ill spouse (as I am), I've found a great resource at wellspouse.org.

Useful information on the site, but the real gems are in the forums (you'll need to register). I spent a fair amount of time being amazed and relieved that others experience what I do (e.g., distress over the change in our relationship, should I stay/should I go?, etc.).

On a different note, I started taking Effexor again for depression. Even tho' I'm only a few days into a low, ramp-up dose, I feel so much better. While I have mixed feelings about taking the meds, I can't argue with the results. And I'm a bit worried about side effects, but better the devil that you know.

Be amazed

'Twas talking with my massage therapist, who's actually a spiritual teacher in some ways, about my decision to go back on anti-depressants.

I stopped drinking because I was not functional and now depression is getting the better of me so that I struggle to function, especially at work.

He suggested, "If you could focus on what H CAN do right now and be amazed at anything that he does...loading the dishwasher, folding any laundry, anything really...then maybe you wouldn't need anti-depressants."

At this point, I was beginning to grumble a bit in protest.

"You have a need for him to do particular things...things he used to do...and the fact that he can't is what makes you sad, depressed. Your expectations are what is making you sad. What if you didn't need him to do or be anything other than just what he is?"

Isn't that acceptance in its purest form?

Still seeing the doctor tomorrow, tho'.

Acceptance

Strange, but true…I am, for the first time, feeling peace with where H is and what is happening. Now, that doesn't mean I like it, because I most certainly do not.

Happily, I no longer get angry (or as angry) at H for his incoherent questions, his general lack of ability to accomplish anything, or his need for my help in almost every area of his life. These days, I have caught myself trying to be helpful, to anticipate his needs and to do so willingly and whole-heartedly, even cheerfully.

I'm relieved that I'm finally feeling gentle towards him again…been a long time, too long.

As I recounted in my last post, I recently pressed on finding the parrot a new home and getting a viral load test during his anti-viral medication holiday. Both of these topics made him very angry and remarkably coherent for several minutes, which is a rarity. The net of it is that he doesn't want to know what is viral load is doing, doesn't want to re-start the anti-viral meds, and doesn't want to work on finding a home for the parrot.

Seems that all he wants to do is spend time with his bird and with me. And sleep.

Last night, I was talking with H about how much he's sleeping these days (18 - 20+ hours a day) and that I've noticed this increasing the past few months. Again, I got one of the most coherent answers I've heard in a long time: "Well, I've just given up. I can't do anything. I feel sick all the time. I'm in a lot of pain. I don't have a brain anymore. I'm tired of fighting this. I just don't want to be here anymore."

This is the most honest answer I've heard from him in a long while; usually, it's about how he will get better…"when I get better, I'll do ," or, "when I'm on my med holiday, I'll…".

And without taking his anti-viral meds, he will die. Simple…they are the only reason he is alive today. We'll see if he really doesn't want to restart his meds when it is time to do so (it may already be). But, for now, I'll support him in his decision, even if it means he will die. Truth be told, his life is no better if he takes the meds; in fact, he'll just feel sicker from the "chemotherapy."

And while what is happening is sad, I am relieved that both of us are arriving at some kind of acceptance, albeit by very different paths.

Birds in a cage

Whenever I get overwhelmed by the whole ball o' fun, including work, stress from watching H decline, and now having to do everything around the house (except for cleaning and H's meds), I just tell myself, "This sucks, but I can handle it." Seems to work much of the time.

Nonetheless, I find myself fantasizing about life "outside," life without caring for a very sick person…of course, the fantasy is likely better than what the reality might actually turn out to be.

H has had a large parrot, a macaw, for about 7 years now. In the past, H took the bird on picnics, to Petco, to friends, and for long walks around the neighborhood. But recently, H has not been able to do these things and is now having trouble holding the bird as his hands are shaking. Of course, H can't clean up after the parrot or feed him, etc….so I end up doing that.

For awhile now, I've been thinking, but not saying, that we need to plan for a home for the bird when H can no longer care for him. Now, these birds need a lot of attention…they are highly social animals and they adopt families as their "flock," so it is bad for them if they spend too much time alone or in a cage, which is what is happening now. I work much of the time and H sleeps pretty much all day.

I've raised the topic of H and I working together on finding a future home for the parrot (but, likely, I'll have to arrange that myself). I want to make certain that the bird gets a good home, someone who knows how to care for him. But H got really, really angry about it and said that the Dr. just needs to change his meds so he doesn't shake so much, but that is just one part of it.

H fell again the other night and was incoherent for 5 minutes or so afterwards. This is the fourth time in two weeks that he's passed out and fallen. Luckily, I was home each time. Drs. know about this, but say that his blood pressure is so low that they're not certain just what to do. Mostly, "just don't stand up so fast."

This morning, H said that he is afraid to take a walk in the neighborhood or go anywhere because he might fall down and that he doesn't feel well. And that he's afraid to leave the house without me. And so, even tho' H stopped taking his HIV meds this Summer, so he could "have a life," he doesn't.

When he's feeling better

It drives me crazy when I come home, as last night, and H is in a chipper mood and has been doing stuff.

"Doing stuff" in this case means playing with the pets, doing stuff on the computer, and cycling the dishes in the dishwasher. Nothing major for the rest of us, but major for him.

I guess that I should be happy that he is feeling better for that day, but really I just resent it because it's not consistent…and most importantly, that it conflicts with how I've learned to see him and my own resolve with how to move forward.

And just a moment ago, he called me at work to say, "I just called to say I love you."

While the distress and desperation that I often feel is overwhelming, so is the cognitive dissonance.

Are we there yet?

Back at the desk (and the Web) after a two-week+ break. Nice to get off the grid for a bit. Didn’t do any travelling this time…was a staycation and it was a delightful break from work: get up and just do stuff I want. And coming back to work is a relief from what has been going on at home.

H has been having fainting and falling spells, so that created a bit of a hubbub during my break. Well, hubbub for me anyway. Dr. didn't seem alarmed about this or H's faltering mental state…"well, yes, his dementia will get worse, yes, he's at risk for falling." What's expected by others doesn't help; it's a big deal to me.

Keep wondering when he'll die…like being on a long, hot, uncomfortable car trip and you don't know when you'll get there because you've never been there before and traffic is bad. Sure, at some point you will get there, but not soon enough, in any case.

H pretty much slept through my whole vacation. Up around noon, take meds, back in bed until 4, take meds & eat, back up for dinner at 8, up for a few hours for TV, and then sleep again. More of the same, really. Just a shadow in the house now.

So, I just go about my life, visiting friends, working in the garden, etc. and I see him for 2 - 3 hours a day.

This year, among other things, I had planned to 1) quit drinking (check), 2) focus on work until vacation (check), 3) take an extended break from work (check), and 4) figure out what I'm going to do with H.

So, here were are.

Short answer: no surprise, but I’m not going to place him until I have to. I won't place him (I don't think) due to my issues, even tho' I can really feel the burden now that I'm rested about work. But I do wonder how long he can continue to be at home by himself.

He can't remember to take his meds, is at high risk of falling, goes to bed and leaves the windows opened and doors unlocked, can't remember to eat or if he does, he can't figure out how to make food or even where to get food from the refrigerator (e.g., looking for eggs in the produce drawers).

And from here on out, that trip in the hot car will only get more uncomfortable, however long it takes to get there, wherever it is that we're going.

Why I sleep so much

For years, H has slept a lot…up a few hours in late morning and early evening, but generally in bed the rest of the time. Sometimes he sleeps more and sometimes less, but generally, he's sleeping 18 hours a day or so. When he sleeps more, he's up for a few minutes here and there and then goes back to bed.

When I've asked or said anything about his sleeping, I get a range of answers, usually defensive, which is not what I was trying to achieve:

* Because the meds make me sick and I'd just rather sleep it off
* The pain meds make me so sleepy
* You're an asshole and I prefer not to be around you
* You don't want to be around me
* I'm trying to give you some alone time

When I ask, I'm looking for information about how he is doing. A few days ago, I mentioned that it seems he's sleeping a lot more (up for just a few minutes at a time and I really notice this) and he said, "Well…you can't diagnose me. "

"Oh, honey, I'm not trying to diagnose you, I'm just trying to understand what is happening," I said. "I'm asking because I care."

H said, "Well, I'm just depressed. I'm sick, I feel bad, and you don't want to be with me anymore. So I sleep. Besides, I just love sleeping. I really enjoy my naps…the highlight of my day."

Snippets from the edge

H has been off his anti-HIV meds for over a month now. He hasn't called to find out if his viral load has gone up or not. He says, "I just don't want to think about it or know."

Conversations at our house are very quiet…I talk but I rarely get a response. H is quiet a lot these days, part of it is that he's not been feeling well and I think that part of it is that he's not home very much.

My therapist talks about how people feel lost when a spouse dies. Nice to have a name for what I've been feeling.

Went out to dinner with folks from work and some work-guests from out of town. Everyone has something interesting to talk about…books, travel, hobbies. I come home and it's, "I'm not feeling well, I need to go to bed."

Work consumes most of my time and thoughts right now. It's good fun tho'. Will get a break in August and I can use the rest. Not certain how the time at home will be for me as I'll be alone whether he's up or not.

The thing about the hat

H and I went to our friend C's b-day party a week or so ago. She's 86 now.

While we were there, H told me that he was feeling bad vibes from the crowd and that C had likely told them bad things about him. I told H, "Well, if there's an issue, give them the responsibility to bring it up…otherwise, let's enjoy ourselves."

Later, H talked about how the bad vibes at the party must be because he wore a hat when outside during the party. Now, it was a very stylin' hat, a modern take on a nice fedora. He said, "They're from a different era and must not have liked me wearing my hat."

For the next 5 days, C called us several times, but H refused to answer the phone when she called and he didn't want me to answer it either. And he went on and on about how C is just cranky and wants to chew him out about wearing the hat. I tried to talk him down, telling him that "you don't know that's the issue…." But of course, that was the issue for him.

"I just know she wants to chew me out about wearing the hat," he says.

Finally, he decided to call C to "spoil her little game."

As it turns out, C wanted to thank us for coming to the party and to tell him how much she enjoyed the flowers that we sent to her home. No mention of the hat.

How to wash

Since i've been so busy recently at work and H is on a break from his anti-viral meds that make him feel so ill, he's been trying to help more around the house.

I really appreciate all the help I can get and give him losts of positive reinforcement for any help at all, even unloading the dishwasher and bringing up the empty garbage cans from the street.

Last night when I came home from work and the gym, he was starting to do laundry. He asked me how I do it.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"How do you use the dial? Don't you start at the top?"

Our washer has 3 cycles (heavy, light, and delicate) on a big dial. I showed him each of the cycles and told him what each was for.

I told him about the dial for about 5 minutes trying this tack and that. You "don't always have to start at the top of the dial," but that you pick the cycle based on the clothes and how dirty they are. And sometimes, where you start is not at the top of the dial. It just depends....

He was very puzzled and more than a bit agitated at this point. Clearly, he was frustrated.

I finally said, "For most things you can just start at the top of the dial."

"Oh, OK, now I get it," he says smiling. "I've already washed one load, you know."

This is a man with two college degrees and was once one of the smartest people I know. Now, laundry seems daunting.

He has noticed that he hasn't rebounded (energy and thinking) like he has in the past when he took an anti-viral med holiday. I agree with his self-assessment. He asked me this morning if I was worried about this.

"No honey, I'm not. Give yourself some time off the meds. You know that you have good days and not so good days. You'll be just fine."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," he says smiling.

But I know he won't. And I'm scared and sad about it.

Peas for dinner

About 12 years ago, H was recovering at a local facility that has a specialty in AIDS care after a bout of PCP pneumonia that nearly killed him. At that point, he had been in the ICU for almost a month and needed skilled nursing care to get him back on his feet. This is the same place that I was working to place him at the end of 2007. Lovely, kind people and state-of-the-care.

I had wheeled H in a wheelchair down to the dining room as he wasn't yet able to walk due to shaking and weakness. We lined up for food and I got his plate from the servers. Tonight was steak, mashed potatoes, and peas.

A handful of folks were in the dining room, mostly residents and a few family members. All the residents were either in wheelchairs or using a walker/cane. Only low talking, serious tones.

At the table, I'm cutting his meat because he isn't coordinated enough. But he bristled at being fed. He tries taking a drink, but is shaking and spills the water .

He tries to stab a pea with his fork, but misses and the pea skids off the table. I suggest a spoon and reach for it. "No! No! I can do it," he says.

He loads the soup spoon up with peas and moves up from the plate. OK so far, but then his hand starts to shake a little bit…a few peas drop to the table.

The higher he lifts the spoon, the more he's shaking and peas go flying. One hits me in the forehead and bounces into my water glass. I start laughing, then H starts to laugh and the spoon shakes more.

Now several peas are launched across the dining room. One splats on the nearby window. One flies towards the serving line and many land bounce across our table. At this point, I'm nearly in tears laughing…H begins to laugh more. And more peas fly.

One flies across the dining room, bounces on a table, and hits a guy in a wheelchair in the side of his face and drops into a visitor's plate.

At first he flinches like if a bug hits you, then he realizes it’s a pea, looks at us and starts to laugh heartily. Then others at his table laugh. Later as they were leaving, one of them comes over and says, "Thanks for making Joe laugh…we don't see him laugh enough anymore."

When it is time

When we had an old cat who was quite sick, the vet told us that he would die pretty soon, but that he wasn't in pain and so we should take him home and enjoy him while we can. "He'll let you know when it is time," the vet said.

So, we took our old kitty home and just spent time with him like we always did: treats, cuddling, and just sitting with him on the couch, petting. The old cat wasn't interested in playing with his toys, the other cats, or with us, but he wanted to hang around us a lot.

And, after awhile, it was time, but we had a few weeks more together where we enjoyed one another's company.

Of course, I think about this now that H is going off his anti-viral meds again, just as he has several times before…each time being a bad trip for all concerned.

In the past, when he's gone off his meds, H has been much more functional than he is now…we could by and large have a normal time together, at least for a month or so until the virus flared up again and he went into the hospital or couldn't figure out how to use his cell phone.

I need to manage my expectations better. I keep thinking that he'll be able to do stuff with me once he's stopped taking the meds that make him sickest. But reality intrudes. And I keep wanting him to be able to do things, not run a marathon, just normal things.

H doesn't want to play or run around, of course, he just wants to hang out and be with me. And right now, I find that rather painful for many reasons, not the least of which it brings up much fear that I'll have to descend into the depths of pain and grief yet again.

Brains & bunnies

H says to me in the car on the way to a local park, "I can really tell that my brain is not what it used to be. "

"How so honey?" I know the answer, but am wanting to encourage him to talk.

He says, "I can't remember hardly anything anymore and I keep having to re-learn how to use programs on the computer. And I've had to learn them again and again."

"That must be very frustrating," I say. What else can I say?

"And I can tell what's from the dementia and what's from the stroke and the epilepsy and what's from the meds."

I nod and say, "That's a lot of stuff, isn't it? Honey, you have gotten more than your share. And I'm sorry for that."

"Yea, me too. I thought it would get better without the (anti-viral) meds, but it isn't."

I say, "Give it some time, honey," not believing what I'm saying.

When we get to the park, he sees a bunny and goes on about it for quite some time. "Oh, look a bunny…." He's standing there pointing his cane at it, bending down and talking loudly to it. People looking at him being so excited and smiling kindly like they do for a little kid. I find it challenging to stand there.

We walked a bit in the gardens, but it became very clear that he was struggling just to walk around on level ground. I'm learning to be more patient and go slowly with him, which is hard as my gut just wants to run away.

And later on the way home, he says, laughing, "It just made my day to see the little bunny. I love rabbits, you know, so soft and furry and kind."

Boundaries, an invitation, and a holiday

One of my struggles has been how to deal with the reality that I no longer wish to have a romantic relationship with H, yet we continue to live together in our home of 24 years. For me, the romantic part of our life together is long over and I just don't see my feelings changing, although I'm trying to keep an open mind. Needless to say, H has been in denial about this for years now. But, in all fairness, I haven't been consistent as I've been racked with guilt and shame about how my feelings have changed for him and about us...and I have wavered.

So, now, I am being consistent. And while he may pout, throw a tantrum (like the kid who wants ice cream before dinner, but mom says no), or try the masterful guilting that only he can do…I hold firm and am loving and kind with him. Oddly enough, I feel much better being around the house and, for the first time in years, I’m feeling more comfortable in my own skin. My hope is that he, like me, will get to acceptance on this issue so we can enjoy whatever time we have left together and in whatever context we have it.

Setting firm, unyielding boundaries is key, but also it is important for me to extend a loving invitation to H: he's welcome to stay with me and I will be there for him, whatever happens. I've been consistent over the years with him on this point: I'm not abandoning him (tho' he may feel that way), I love him, and I will continue to care for him, regardless of how our relationship shakes out.

H is taking a holiday from his anti-viral meds for the Summer. He talked with his virologist about how sick the meds were making him feel and he wants to stop for awhile and "have a life this Summer." Now, this is not without any number of risks, but Dr. says it is better for H to stop taking them entirely than not taking them consistently due to the risk of viral resistance. Having said that, there still is a risk that that he may get sick after a month or two off or that the meds won't be effective anymore if he starts them up again.

I told H that I support his decision to take a holiday. I can see how bad his quality of life is, but I also reminded him about what has happened in the past when he took a med holiday. It's important to me that he knows I support him and that I will be there for him and it's also important that I tell him the history.

I didn't tell him this, but I'm very concerned about him taking a holiday as I've seen what happened before, but part of me hopes that he can have a few months where we can enjoy one another again. And, another part of me just wishes that this means the end of his long, tortuous road of this horrible disease.

Life and presence

Get a life

H has been struggling with side effects from his many meds: gaining weight, sleeping a lot, and most notably, just feeling like-he-has-the-flu sick. The latter is from his antiviral meds. H wants to stop taking the antiviral meds so that he can "have a life" this Summer. In the past when he's stopped his meds, he'll feel great for a month or so and then get very ill; been through that before and would prefer not to repeat.

In some ways, I don't like it when he's feeling better. His demands on me increase…he feels better so he starts more projects, but he rarely finishes them or can finish them anymore. And when he's up and about, I should just enjoy him while he's here, but I struggle with that too: I have all those fond feelings for him that I feel very conflicted about because I've been up and down too many times before.

And when he's feeling better, his expectations rise: he wants to do stuff with me, hang out with me…normal stuff really. But I just see it as work….seems like all I do is work these days. Work at work, work at home…little down time right now. And, to be honest, it is work to be around H for me now that I'm more present.

Being present

One of the side effects of (some would say the reason for) my drinking was that I was not present when I was at home. Heh, hard to be present with a minimum of a 6 pack a day.

Now, without drinking, I can be present and I find that a challenge. I can deal with the notion that he's sick and afraid and feel compassion, I can deal with his dementia and be patient and try to understand, but what I can't deal with is the thought that this will drag out for (many more) years…knowing that I'll not (ever) have a partner that meets my needs.

And yet I struggle to get those needs met now due to feelings of guilt and shame as I'm "leaving" my partner. Very strange, but that's how I feel. As much as I want a partner, or even just some fun, the block is there and much of it has to do with the thought of lying to him or hurting his feelings if he found out.

Random snippets

Treatment burnout...

Well, I've spent so much time on recovery stuff recently that I'm just burned out on it. Not that I'll stop attending my sessions and all that, but sheesh I'm tired of hearing about drinking or not drinking. The counselor in my treatment program is having fits with me about this as it challenges much of the AA a priori dogma.

Happily, I don’t have any cravings and I rarely think about drinking…well, unless I'm in a meeting of recovering alcoholics. Question under consideration: I know that AA is tremendously helpful to many, but given that I don't struggle with not drinking …how much of this do I really have to do to keep myself sober?

Don't go to that meeting!

H is worried that I'm doing too much right now, yet he can't see that he is a big part of my overload. Work is crazy busy and he's worried that somehow I'll run into someone at my once a week treatment meeting that is from my large company and that "it won't be good for your career." He also says, "You need to focus on work and yourself, you don't have the capacity to go to a meeting." Reality check, please.

It's really more about him not understanding the facets that I juggle constantly: it's work, work, work at the salt mines, then home to do more work (make dinner, listen to his old angry stories, take care of the pets), my self care stuff (including the gym & therapist), and oh that pesky spiritual path thing. I know I need a vacation, but that won't happen until August. So, yea, I need to do a bunch of self-care stuff and I do it wholeheartedly without guilt.

Just go back to bed, would ya?

No surprise, but H doesn't have all that many good days these days. But after a slew of bad weeks, he's up and about a lot more right now. So, he's up early with me, sleeps during the day, and is up when I get home. First time in literally years and, of course, I've been fancying myself a single man, so I have much dissonance about this. But, I'm not PO'd at him since I've stopped drinking and I am grateful for that.

He "just wants to be with me." I appreciate the sentiment, but all I hear at this point is neediness. I don't do well with this as he's been so bloody needy for so very, very long. But, when he's up and about and trying to be all chipper, I mostly just want him to go back to bed. Now, I don't say that, of course, but I think it and I also think to myself, "How many more years do I have to babysit?"