Boys, the more frustrating offspring

Well now Thursday and Friday have been ‘difficult’ days so it’s been tough to sit down at the keyboard. Today was a better day and of course remembering the “no whining” instructions from daughter # 3 I thought as my mother used to say “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” and it was kind of tough to be positive. Here’s the scoop.

On Thursday I had a unsettling day at work as there are many issues surfacing. We’re beginning a major renovation of the patient care area which involves new flooring, painting etc. and will last from May 7 to July 25th. This will mean moving patients around as if they were playing musical rooms, relocation of the nurses lounge to the other end of the hall in a very central and public space, admitting patients to the patient lounge (former newborn nursery so lots of windows) which has a small kitchenette in it but no bathroom using some room dividers for privacy, complete disruption of most office space in that wing and general noise and confusion, not to mention increases in my responsibilities for overseeing the barriers etc for construction. There are no plans to reduce the patient census during this construction. As you can imagine both sides of my job are fighting with each other and it’s making me feel positively schizophrenic.
With the warmer weather around the corner the dust and noise will be the final straw for staff. The mumps tracking is making me testy as well. It’s been a busy time with a heavy workload for the past nine months and remember only 1/4 of the staff are 37 yrs or younger so the rest especially are tired. I was pretty excited to haul my carcass to the car by the end of the day.

When I got home things started pretty well as the cleaning lady had been here and both in-house offspring were involved in social activities. In fact the routine went along as per usual until after supper when I received a phone call which went like this…. “Hello is _ _ _ _ _there please?” said by an authoritative female voice. “No he’s not, can I help you?“ “Well this is Cst. O’Brien of the RCMP” “I hope he’s not in trouble, I’m his mother” to which the Cst. replied “well he’s been named by two other guys as being responsible for some property damage” I hung up promising to do my best to locate him and have him call back.

Easier said than done it appears. I phoned every friend’s cell phone number I knew and after a 15 minute wait I had a call back from the accused son at 9:15 p.m. I refused to discuss the situation on the phone, firmly stating he must come home to talk about it which led to loud questioning of “what is it? is it about me? Oh now you‘ve got me all worked up” Now what do you think, that’s it about someone else? Of course it’s about you that’s why I asked you to come home to see what’s going on and if you’re wanting to know about worked up, let me show you what that means. I instructed him to drive safely and head home RIGHT NOW! About an hour passes and the only activity is his older sister calling to tell me that his truck is in the Sobeys parking lot and her brother is having someone drive him around, a friend has said he has been drinking and that I absolutely should NOT have asked him to drive home. I spend the next 45 minutes worrying myself ill to finally receive a phone call from… you guessed it - the man of the hour. When questioned as to his whereabouts he says “I know what it is now, I don’t have to come home now, the police stopped me about 40 minutes ago because someone called them about me being impaired and driving” When I rather forcefully convince him that I have summoned him for a completely different topic, he reluctantly agrees to head home.

Arriving home at 11:15 p.m. he tells me he knew the police had stopped him because I’d phoned a complaint in. “Oh come on Mom you’ve said before you’d do it” When I finally get through to him that was his ‘friend’ who had informed on him and that I’m ticked because he wouldn’t listen to me and come home when I asked that he’d be better off to fear me than the police. He makes the call to the Cst. to find that it is a case of mistaken identity and everything is right with the world as far as he’s concerned.

On Friday morning when I stop to talk to two colleagues who are wiped by the end of the night shift I say “don’t complain did the RCMP call your house last evening looking for someone?” To which one of them replies “couldn’t tell you as I’ve told them not to call me at work with that kind of news and besides which one would it be?” So then it dawned on me that although we both had four children, she had two boys and I only have one - makes it much easier to nail it down a culprit.

Friday was even more unfun as the new reality became apparent. Lots of back and forth emails at work and sometimes it’s difficult to sense the real tone with those messages - are they angry with me, disappointed, in a hurry? Sometimes it’s hard to know what the feeling behind the email is. I visit at the nursing home where Mom is kicking the door wildly hoping to escape and has no flicker of recognition in her eyes for me. Boy am I glad it’s TGIF.

I come home to find no children in situ with daughter #1 being a sandwich artist and the much wanted boy off in pursuit of happiness. There is a voice mail that says the first aid teaching shipment I’ve been sent is perhaps heading to me but as per usual the city person is unsure of any geography outside of HRM. Funny thing, we can find our way around the city when us country mice go to the city, but it’s never the reverse situation. A quick supper is gulped in between loading lobsters, phone calls and unloading bait by the life partner. One of the calls is the Captain calling to say “tell the only son I’ll pick him up at 2:30 a.m.” Again sounds easier to do than it turns out.

I phoned every cell number I had connected with mister until midnight and then gave up for bed following the instructions from his father that “he’s almost 20 yrs old we shouldn’t have to be babysitting him like this” I missed the excitement at 2:30 a.m. as his much more mature younger sister saw the lights of the Captain’s truck and got up to prevent him ringing the doorbell and waking the whole household. She informs him that “Mom called all evening for him, never found him and he didn‘t come home“. A very surprised look on his face, he says “oh ok” and leaves. Well, what else was he to do? The Captain had to wait until 5 a.m. when an extra hired man happened to show up with his father as it’s the weekend and he took him. He was NOT a happy camper and it was evident by the tone on the VHF radio as he broadcast this news to lobster fleet. Needless to say this went over like a lead balloon with the father of all this excitement generator. At this writing the prodigal son has not returned. His father and I have said the usual conversation we engage in when he acts like an idiot “that boy just does NOT get it does he?” There is no way you can understand the frustration of having a bright capable kid decide to act like an arse unless… you’ve experienced it. Don’t let anyone tell you that the Terrible Twos are the worse years. Sigh.

I was glad that my sleep wasn’t interrupted as I headed off to a Writing Memoirs Workshop in the morning and it was a wonderful day. But more on that tomorrow.