A week where my brain let me down

I am getting older. I don't like to think too much about it, but I am. My brain can't do everything it used to and I find this SO annoying. I want to be able to read and write and think and remember just as well as always. "Come on, brain," I urge it, "Fire on all cylinders! Make new connections! You can do it!" And the brain tries, but it doesn't always succeed. I misunderstand things. I forget things. I take shortcuts, because it takes too much energy to do everything I need to do.

Case in point #1: about two weeks ago, Teen B needed to take the math placement exam for his college. Math placement exams are new to me -- I don't think anybody at UC Davis took one when I was there in 1978. You just signed up for Calculus 101 and either you passed or you failed. But that was 48 years ago and I guess things have changed, lol. I told Teen B not to worry about the test, if he did badly, he could just start with an easy math class and move up. Was this smart of me? No, it was lazy. Did I read up on math placement exams and how important they are? No. I just thought, oh, I know this, I'll wing it. I didn't know this. I was wrong.

Well, he did badly, and it turned out that you can't really "move up," you're banned from regular math forever until you can pass that test. So now he's going to have to take the test again, this time with a proctor (he could have cheated on the first test, but we didn't know). And he's nervous about that and doesn't want to schedule it. And unless he pulls himself together, this may mean he can never take math and science classes in college, which means he might as well drop out before he begins.

I feel very guilty about this and have lost some sleep over it. Yes, I know, Teen B should have read up on this and figured out that he needed to study for the math placement exam, but he's not a reader. He depends on me to read things for him. I know, I know, we have to move beyond this, he needs to take responsibility for his own stuff, not depend on me. But couldn't we move beyond this in the fall, not now?

Case in point #2: this week Teen A was supposed to have his first flying lesson. It was scheduled for Wednesday, but they called and canceled it, because high winds were predicted. They asked if they could reschedule for Saturday at 12 noon. I said sure, and I told Teen A the new day & time and also Rocket Boy, and I wrote it on the calendar. Nobody, but nobody, ever checks that calendar except me, but they COULD. It's right there in the kitchen. Nobody ever does, though.

Saturday came, and I had a Zoom call with my old Michigan friends at 10:30. I was a little nervous about the call because I was doing it on a new device (Teen B's old Chromebook) so that I could take it outside and show them the graduation signs in our front yard. Around 11:15, though, I wondered why Rocket Boy wasn't getting ready to go to the airport and why Teen A wasn't even home from his girlfriend's yet. I put the zoom call on mute and went to the desk room to consult with RB. It turned out he thought the lesson was at 2 pm, not 12. "Well, I wrote 12-2 on the calendar," I said. "You could call them to check." RB called the airport, and sure enough, the lesson was at noon. So he started trying to contact Teen A. But all calls went straight to voicemail. 

We both tried to remember when we had last discussed the lesson with Teen A. He'd been home the night before, we'd all had dinner together, but it was a special Juneteenth dinner and my mind had been focused on that. I'd made deviled eggs, which neither twin could remember ever having had before, and I baked cornbread, and heated a can of baked beans, and that's what I was thinking about, not the flight lesson the next day. I was also probably worrying about my zoom call and the Chromebook and all that.

And I can't seem to hold more than one or two thoughts in my mind at once. So I didn't mention the flight lesson, and Rocket Boy didn't mention the flight lesson, and Teen A didn't mention the flight lesson. And then he waltzed off to his girlfriend's.

Long story short: he missed the lesson. Slept right through it. Woke up around 2 pm (he'd put his phone on "do not disturb"), saw 14 texts from me, responded "oh shit." His story, which is nuts, is that he'd thought Friday was Saturday, and while he was swimming with friends he'd suddenly thought, "oh shit, I missed my flight lesson," which is why he didn't mention it at dinner time -- he thought he'd missed it and we were mad at him and...

It makes no sense. And obviously Teen A is primarily responsible for the screw-up, with Rocket Boy a little bit responsible too. But the thing is, I could have prevented the whole thing, easily, and it's my job in the family to prevent things like that, but I didn't do it because my mind was full of (1) Juneteenth and the dinner, and (2) my zoom call and the Chromebook issue. No room for a third thing, the flight lesson.

Sigh.

They apparently weren't too upset at the airport. Rocket Boy filled out a lot of forms, which was useful, and they made another appointment for 12:30 pm on Sunday (today). And Rocket Boy reminded Teen A of THIS appointment about forty times, and he got up around 11:30 am and they made it to the airport on time and he had his first lesson. And Rocket Boy gave the airport people his debit card, and now whenever Teen A has a lesson, they'll charge the debit card, and we're fine.

But my brain, hmm. Just cannot depend on it the way I used to.

It was another busy week. On Monday, the Boulder Concert Band was scheduled to perform a concert in Martin Park at 7 pm and I really wanted to go. I ended up convincing both Rocket Boy and Teen B to come with me, so that was fun. (Teen B came because the Sweet Cow truck was going to be there, so I had to buy him ice cream as a condition of his attendance.) There were hundreds of people there, a large portion of the neighborhood, and everyone except us had brought camp chairs. We sat on the grass, but that meant we couldn't see the band very well (which is why my photo mostly shows the backs of people sitting in camp chairs). It was still wonderful, though. The weather was exquisite, not too warm, not too cool, and not raining or windy. I had a very strong sense of privilege, and I wondered about all the other cities & towns in the U.S. that don't have their own personal bands to give free concerts in their beautiful parks, if they even have parks. 

The experience was especially interesting because the night before had been Trump's crazy fight thing at the White House, with that giant Claw and all those people watching men attack each other and one of them saying Michelle Obama is a man and all that horribleness. I wondered how many people in the U.S. would prefer watching a lot of fights inside a Claw and how many would prefer sitting in a park listening to a band play music. (They played patriotic songs -- they do three different concerts in the summer, each of them twice, so this was the patriotic version, with a Sousa march and the 1812 overture and "America the Beautiful" and things like that.)

Tuesday was Teen A's orientation at Metro, and he got up early and went to it, no problem at all (but of course, I'd reminded him about it multiple times). I kind of wanted to go too, but he was happy to go alone, and I figured that was better.

Wednesday was a very busy day. I had a dentist appointment at 8:30 am to scan my mouth in preparation for getting a fake tooth, Teen A had a haircut at noon, Teen A had his flight lesson at 2 (but it was postponed to Saturday, as I already mentioned), I saw my new orthopedist at 2:45, and Teen B met with his counselor again over zoom at 3:30. My new orthopedist was very nice, and he told me that I have to have surgery, preferably soon before my torn meniscus gets caught in the knee joint (as happened in 2005 with the other knee). I asked him if we could postpone until after our possible July vacation and getting Teen B moved to college in August, and he said yes, but remember the risks.

Teen B's counselor signed him up for Intro to Sociology, since he can't take math. He's also currently enrolled in Intro to Food Science, Music & Technology, College Composition, and a freshman seminar. And maybe something else that I'm forgetting. It's fine. Incidentally, he had to take a placement test to be put into a writing class and he scored high enough to skip bonehead English and be put into the slightly more advanced class. Can you please explain to me how someone who gets a D in senior language arts does that? Oh well.

Thursday was a big day: we had our appointment to get Teen B's driver's license! Finally! It was a little bit complicated because in the time since he passed his driving test, his permit had expired. So before he could get his license, he had to renew his permit. This required taking a new photo, which was fine, but once he had the new permit, he had to have ANOTHER photo taken for his license. If the Colorado Division of Motor Vehicles ever needs some advice on how to cut costs, I have a suggestion to make. But anyway, it's fine, he now has his license! Of course, the real one won't arrive for a week or so, but this one works for now. I forgot to call our insurance company, so I won't let him drive until I do that -- because up until now, we haven't had to pay extra for him, but now that he has his license, we will have to. I wonder how much it will be!

We got boba tea to celebrate and then went and picked up our new glasses, which were ready. His look very nice, and mine are so much like my old ones that nobody notices the difference. But I notice -- I can see better! It's quite impressive.

Friday, Rocket Boy had the day off because of Juneteenth, and of course there was the whole mess with Teen A and forgetting to remind him about the flight lesson, and Saturday of course there was the whole mess with Teen A missing the flight lesson and I don't really want to think about it.

But by Saturday night we were all friends again. We went out to eat at the Ironwood Bar & Grille, the restaurant by the golf course, Rocket Boy's choice because it was the day before Father's Day. They seated us right by the open doors to the outside, and I enjoyed watching birds on the golf course and the sun gradually going down on the longest day of the year. They have very good food (I had a delicious beet salad with goat cheese and arugula and pistachios), and we all ordered dessert, which was heavenly (mine was a lemon curd tart). And the bill was $204 (including tax and tip). Can you imagine that? Over $200 for four people to eat one meal (and nobody had any alcohol). Money is really meaningless these days. Fortunately, Rocket Boy is making a lot of it. I told the kids, "You know, in a few years we probably won't have much money because Dad will finally retire, and then we can't do things like this. Just enjoy it for now."

I am continuing to spend a lot of my free time on genealogy. I find it so fascinating and absorbing that I can spend several hours without noticing the time passing. Each day I hit a point where I say, I have to stop this, and I just close Ancestry and findagrave and step away from my computer. But it's hard. Right now I'm working on my great-grandfather's siblings and their descendants, and it seems like every day brings new surprises. I'm starting with the book a distant cousin put together many years ago, called "My Morrison Line," but I keep finding little mistakes (not surprising, doesn't mean she didn't do a good job). 

Today I found -- not a mistake, but more of an omission. She starts out the book talking about a second cousin of hers who was the first Morrison she met when she started her search. He's the most wonderful man, etc. But in the section of the book on his parents, she omits a very important and unusual fact -- his parents were divorced, sometime between 1910 and 1920, after at least 22 years of marriage. She mentions that his mother, Mary, who was a physician, had a second husband, but the implication is that this was after his father died. Nope. The census records clearly show that she was married to Mr. Morrison in 1910 and Mr. Lecocq in 1920, and Mr. Morrison didn't die until 1943. I also found a death certificate for Mr. Lecocq's previous wife, who died in 1909, and Mary was the attending physician. Also, she witnessed the poor woman's will. A little suspicious, if you ask me. Did she hasten the woman's death because she wanted her husband? Oh, I know, probably not, but it's certainly interesting.

OK, what do we have coming up this week? It's not going to be quite as hot, mid 80s instead of 90s, with several chances for rain starting tomorrow. 

• Monday I'm hoping to go to another Boulder Concert Band concert, although this one is in a park in north Boulder, so I'll have to drive (or maybe take a Lyft? or get Teen A to drive me? I'll see). I pulled out a camping chair, so I'm all ready.
• Tuesday, there's nothing on the calendar yet, but Teen B and I will need to be getting ready for his orientation in Fort Collins.
• Wednesday afternoon, he and I will drive to Fort Collins and stay in a dorm.
• Thursday is orientation, all day.
• And Friday, we recover. 

So, not a bad week, at least the way it looks now, but of course things may come up. We hope that we'll hear from Rocket Boy's orthopedist, although he may be on vacation. Apparently, the MRI that RB had done the week before last did show that he's torn his other rotator cuff, which means he probably needs to have surgery on THAT shoulder before we even think about doing the reverse rotator cuff surgery on his other shoulder. Also, it probably needs to be done immediately, because he tore it back in March and here it is June already. So, if that's the case, that could definitely affect our summer plans, ha ha. Stay tuned.