The good news is, I've been accepted into Dave Schwensen's Comedy Workshop: three Saturdays of comedy development, capped by a Wednesday-night, five-minute showcase at the Cleveland Improv. To say I'm stoked doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm particularly looking forward to developing some clean comedy, so I can take part in the coffeehouse open-mics which are much more in line with my bedtime.

Other good news: Monstro, the boys and I are going to California next month, where we'll see my dad and stepmother for the first time in over a year. I'm so eager for this I'm practically ready to start walking there.

And now for the rest of it. MFM got a wild hare last week and rushed out the front door without her walker and of course crashed to the ground. She didn't break anything but wrenched her right foot and has been in bed for the past five days, so I'm waiting on her hand-and-foot (no pun intended) and GD that's tiring. And, she just referred to my husband as “what's his name.” She will be staying in respite care while we're away; I'm really looking forward to the break. I'm tired.

We joined a gym last Sunday and I was there for seven consecutive days. They have childcare but not MFM-care, so I'm going whenever Monstro's schedule allows, as well as whenever the hired MFM-care is in place. It's nice having somewhere to go.

Well, since last I wrote, I have moved to Ohio, seen Niagara Falls, started one kid in Kindergarten, another in Preschool, sent Monstro off to his new job at Case Western Reserve University, renewed a friendship with a dearest friend from high school who also lives in the realm of our new home in Ohio (Cleveland area), hired and fired one home-health agency for MFM, hired a second agency (this one seems better, please cross your fingers), and have as of yet managed to stave off the nervous breakdown that's probably coming along any.minute.now.

So yeah, things are in flux and have changed but are mostly good. Except for MFM, who becomes a more unreliable narrator every day. Her diagnosis as of eight weeks ago is “Parkinson's dementia” and yes that's as crappy as it sounds, and it will likely only become crappier, so that, well, sucks.

Nevertheless I am moving forward, trying to find a little bit of work so I'm not exclusively providing care to MFM and the boys. I'd like to be doing some stand-up out here but so far all the ones I've found in bars don't start until 10 pm and the ones in coffee shops are in coffee shops were people are unlikely to be drunk and I'm unlikely to be allowed to be the blue-vulgar comic I am. So I'm working on some clean stuff, and have come up with a couple of bits, but for now they're being shared just in my notebook or Facebook.

Good news: the woman who came from the new home-health agency has a friend who is willing to watch my kids, so Monstro and I have a date night tonight. Too bad we don't have a van conversion. Which reminds me of BK's new favorite joke: What is the mouse's favorite game? Hide and squeak! Squeak squeak squeak!