Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Lives Unlived
I had a memory tonight, which is rather rare for me. My memories are few and far between. It was a sound that triggered the memory, one from forty years ago. The sound of a cat.
It was around this same time of year, when two young boys, one that I knew personally, were playing outside. They had just learned how to tie a noose. These two boys, for whatever reason, tied nooses on opposite ends of a rope, placed them around their necks and climbed a tree. Somehow, in the process of their playing, they fell across a tree branch and the rope wasn't long enough for them to get their legs under them, to get weight off the nooses.
After hearing of the tragedy, I was lying in bed, crying. This was back in the days of attic fans and open windows. Somewhere, out in the dark of night, a cat was crying out. The sound reminded me of a child, crying out for it's mother. It broke my heart, more than it was already broken.
Hearing that same sound tonight, brought back the memory. The memory of two young lives, cut short. After forty years, it still brought with it, a chill.
It was around this same time of year, when two young boys, one that I knew personally, were playing outside. They had just learned how to tie a noose. These two boys, for whatever reason, tied nooses on opposite ends of a rope, placed them around their necks and climbed a tree. Somehow, in the process of their playing, they fell across a tree branch and the rope wasn't long enough for them to get their legs under them, to get weight off the nooses.
After hearing of the tragedy, I was lying in bed, crying. This was back in the days of attic fans and open windows. Somewhere, out in the dark of night, a cat was crying out. The sound reminded me of a child, crying out for it's mother. It broke my heart, more than it was already broken.
Hearing that same sound tonight, brought back the memory. The memory of two young lives, cut short. After forty years, it still brought with it, a chill.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
To Xfinity And Beyond
During the recent Blog Out, it gave me a tiny bit of comfort to know I wasn't suffering alone. Not sure if anyone else in blogland has been struggling with the new Xfinity business, but I certainly have. Surprisingly, there were only minor glitches and interruptions to my cable service. Phone and internet, on the other hand, have been a real nightmare. When I think back over the years, to all the hours I've spent on the phone... hours I will never get back... talking to people whose accents I struggled to understand, it makes me want to scream. Thinking about all the money we've paid them, for all the aggravation, doesn't make me a happy camper, either.
I THINK I'm up and running, again, for now. We'll see how long it lasts.
Special thanks to my oldest son, for running telephone interference for me. Hearing the land line ring, music to my ears. Having my internet working, wonderful. Two Advil for the headache... PRICELESS!
Just so this post isn't a total rant, I'm adding a recent picture of the ever growing, ever changing, "Chunky Monkey", fresh from a bath, smelling sweet.
I THINK I'm up and running, again, for now. We'll see how long it lasts.
Special thanks to my oldest son, for running telephone interference for me. Hearing the land line ring, music to my ears. Having my internet working, wonderful. Two Advil for the headache... PRICELESS!
Just so this post isn't a total rant, I'm adding a recent picture of the ever growing, ever changing, "Chunky Monkey", fresh from a bath, smelling sweet.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
It Went Well
Much to my surprise, Mother's Day went great. Considering we thought we might have to cancel our plans, since my mother in law went to the ER on Saturday evening, we were shocked we didn't have to spend the day at the hospital. She's fine, still a little weak, but otherwise ok. She's a pretty tough ol' lady. She can still run circles around me and she's old enough to be my mother! She's a force to be reckoned with... reckon I'll pass. I've suffered plenty of her butt kicking over the past 35 years. The target may be larger, but I try to keep it covered.
My sweet daughter helped me get the food in order. (Bless you!) We ate, chatted, I held the baby... lots, sat outside and sweltered, some had after dinner coffee, some had wine. The baby had liquid gold, (breast milk) which he shared with me, (reflux) several times. He's very generous that way. I tried to convince him I didn't need it, to keep it for himself. No way, he insisted on sharing. Shares with anyone close. He shared a couple of other things, too, I'll spare you the details, but... I swear I was careful and didn't pinch ANYTHING.
A little later, with bellies full, my mother in law and I, opened our cards. My youngest son, the ever witty, thoughtful, ingenious person he is, handed me a book. Upon first glance, I thought for sure it was specially made. (he does things like that) It truly looks like it has tape on the front.
See, doesn't that look handmade? I was so excited, UNTIL I OPENED IT! Much to my chagrin, this book is filled with pages that require the owner to basically destroy the book. The book my Son gave me, for Mother's Day. Just look at a couple of the pages...
To top it off, he put a message inside...
This MUST be a test! He knows how OCD/uptight/anal, I am. He expects me to cut loose and destroy this book AND give it back to him as proof I could do it! To think I gave birth to all 9 pounds, 3 ounces of him and that I could intentionally destroy something he gave me!!! I've got a newsflash for him... IT AIN'T HAPPENING, MISTER!
My daughter, on the other hand, gave me a rose. It was one of her roses that adorned my header, when I first started this blog. She specifically said it's a "Sarcastic Granny" rose. Yes, it will wither and die, but it won't be because I destroyed it on purpose. Smart girl, she knows not to mess with my two remaining brain cells. She will need a sitter, at some point.
My sweet daughter helped me get the food in order. (Bless you!) We ate, chatted, I held the baby... lots, sat outside and sweltered, some had after dinner coffee, some had wine. The baby had liquid gold, (breast milk) which he shared with me, (reflux) several times. He's very generous that way. I tried to convince him I didn't need it, to keep it for himself. No way, he insisted on sharing. Shares with anyone close. He shared a couple of other things, too, I'll spare you the details, but... I swear I was careful and didn't pinch ANYTHING.
A little later, with bellies full, my mother in law and I, opened our cards. My youngest son, the ever witty, thoughtful, ingenious person he is, handed me a book. Upon first glance, I thought for sure it was specially made. (he does things like that) It truly looks like it has tape on the front.
See, doesn't that look handmade? I was so excited, UNTIL I OPENED IT! Much to my chagrin, this book is filled with pages that require the owner to basically destroy the book. The book my Son gave me, for Mother's Day. Just look at a couple of the pages...
To top it off, he put a message inside...
This MUST be a test! He knows how OCD/uptight/anal, I am. He expects me to cut loose and destroy this book AND give it back to him as proof I could do it! To think I gave birth to all 9 pounds, 3 ounces of him and that I could intentionally destroy something he gave me!!! I've got a newsflash for him... IT AIN'T HAPPENING, MISTER!
My daughter, on the other hand, gave me a rose. It was one of her roses that adorned my header, when I first started this blog. She specifically said it's a "Sarcastic Granny" rose. Yes, it will wither and die, but it won't be because I destroyed it on purpose. Smart girl, she knows not to mess with my two remaining brain cells. She will need a sitter, at some point.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Bad Granny
* This is hard for me to admit, even after three weeks.*
** Pat, and any other males stumbling in, you may want to leave now. **
I was a bad granny. I've been so traumatized by something that happened the day my daughter brought my new grandson home from the hospital, I've been beside myself. I may have permanent damage.
My first three kids were boys. It's not like I've never been around them, or taken care of them, it's just been a REALLY LONG TIME. I do remember that changing their diapers is risky, if you aren't careful. I've been christened, more than once.
My first four grandchildren are girls. That's what I've grown accustomed to.
The traumatizing event happened during a diaper change. I wasn't even doing the changing, for crying out loud. Daughter and SIL were in the process and had everything laid out to do the job at hand and take care of the newly done circumcision. Prior to pulling the diaper off, they were doing the peek thing, to see what was in store. Everything looked fine and it was pretty hard to tell if the diaper was even wet. No point putting him through all that, for nothing, I decided to lend my experienced hand. Boy, did I! I reached down and squeezed the diaper, in the front, to see if it was wet and out comes the tiniest little scream, much like a newborn kitten!!! In a mere fraction of a second, I realized what I had done! I thought for sure I was going to faint, or vomit, I wasn't sure which. Forgot all about those boy bits. Remembered quickly, but not quick enough to avoid what I had already done. He must have thought Granny was trying to circumcise him again.
Do you think he will remember? God, I hope not. I don't think I did any permanent damage, but if his first words sound like Mickey Mouse... I'm headin' for the hills!
See, he looks totally fine, sleeping like a baby!
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