This weekend should prove to be very interesting. Simone gets to go to The Little Place in West Texas. It is a long trip from here - some five hours. Thankfully she does appear to like riding in the car.
We are supposed to go to the Community Club Christmas Party tonight. I just am not sure about leaving her alone. It’s a case of getting to the house, taking things out of the truck, and going to the party. Simone has never seen that house. I’m not sure what she will do.
Here at home, she is getting very adjusted. Today was trash day. We have back door pick up. When she heard the trash cans rattle, she was very interested. She then did something she has never done - she barked. The only time I have heard her is when she was sleeping and having a dream.
I had to go out again this afternoon. She hid the handset to the phone AND the tv remote. The handset was fairly easily found. The remote was in her crate. Oh, my - we are in for some interesting times. G said we will have to start putting things up more. Well, if I put the remote up somewhere, Sasha, B’s cat that I am fostering, will knock it down.
Sasha loves to watch things commit "assisted" suicides. She will tap them until they fall off the surface they are resting on. We are trained to put glasses away - especially since most of my house has tile floors. I think she loves the sound of glass shattering.
I think Simone keeps Sasha fairly honest though. Simone is cat friendly, but Sasha seems to push the envelop. She is always around. Sebastian is smarted than that. He has always been the black ghost cat, but it is even worst now, but Sasha is constantly running around in front of Simone.
The only thing that beats having children is having "fuzzy" children.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Simone is a thief!
For those who are not animal people, the following statement is probably not "incredibly cute." To me it is endearing as can be. Simone is a little thief. My suspicions have been proven in aces.
On Sunday, I got my first inkling she had a shoe fetish. I left my dear ($5/pair) moccasins in the bathroom. When I went into the bedroom, there was one. I checked and the other was still in the bathroom. Since I have a bad habit of not putting shoes into the closet, I noticed she had rearranged some other shoes. OK - no damage.
Yesterday I observed her taking off with one of my shoes I had just taken off. I stopped that immediately, but still found it quite amusing.
While I was out yesterday, I called G to tell him I had gotten the Christmas presents he asked me to pick up. He told me he left a message for me, so I called home to retrieve the message. When I got in, I noticed the light for the messages was still blinking. I began looking for the phone. It was no where to be found. When I went to the bedroom to change clothes, there it was on the floor. It was on. The thief had struck again!
Today when I came in here to the study, her new D*entabone was on the floor where she had left it. She is a sneaky one! I’m curious as to what else we are going to find out about her personality.
I look at her and fervently wish I could roll time back to take away all the pain she must have endured. Her canines wouldn’t just break themselves. I really feel that she was kicked in the mouth or something along those lines because her sweet little tongue often slips out of her mouth. It gives her a certain character, but it isn’t normal. Even for a boxer.
I think she is going to be a source of great stories. After all Boxers are the clowns of the dog world.
On Sunday, I got my first inkling she had a shoe fetish. I left my dear ($5/pair) moccasins in the bathroom. When I went into the bedroom, there was one. I checked and the other was still in the bathroom. Since I have a bad habit of not putting shoes into the closet, I noticed she had rearranged some other shoes. OK - no damage.
Yesterday I observed her taking off with one of my shoes I had just taken off. I stopped that immediately, but still found it quite amusing.
While I was out yesterday, I called G to tell him I had gotten the Christmas presents he asked me to pick up. He told me he left a message for me, so I called home to retrieve the message. When I got in, I noticed the light for the messages was still blinking. I began looking for the phone. It was no where to be found. When I went to the bedroom to change clothes, there it was on the floor. It was on. The thief had struck again!
Today when I came in here to the study, her new D*entabone was on the floor where she had left it. She is a sneaky one! I’m curious as to what else we are going to find out about her personality.
I look at her and fervently wish I could roll time back to take away all the pain she must have endured. Her canines wouldn’t just break themselves. I really feel that she was kicked in the mouth or something along those lines because her sweet little tongue often slips out of her mouth. It gives her a certain character, but it isn’t normal. Even for a boxer.
I think she is going to be a source of great stories. After all Boxers are the clowns of the dog world.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Simone
Things have been jumping around here for the last week. The first thing was that I filled out an application to adopt a rescue boxer. We lost our boxer about four years ago, and I wanted another. We had two other dogs at the time, and at their ages it was not prudent to try to bring another dog into the home. Sam, the last one, died in July, and I felt it was the right time to put in my application. When I was checking the web site, I found a new boxer that would probably fit out needs. She liked cats and kids. Well, ok then.
After several attempts to get the application submitted (the first email address was incorrect) I got a response stating that a volunteer would be calling me. She did, and we set the home visit. I felt almost like a was trying to adopt a child! When the volunteer came, she had a beautiful flashy brindle female. She was so incredibly sweet. She is a real people dog. She obviously had not been given the attention she so wanted. She also was probably used as a "puppy mill." It is obvious she has delivered many litters of pups. But she won my heart.
Friday morning early, G was awake and moving about. I was awake wondering what was wrong with him when he told me to either call the ambulance or take him to the hospital. He was having chest pains. That will get your blood moving. I was set to take him. I had the car warming up since it was one of our unusual cold snaps, and he had complained he couldn't ever get warm at work on Thursday.
He said that the pain was worse. I called the ambulance. They got here after what seemed like an hour, but I know the response time was actually good. We are a volunteer service, so they had to get up and get to the station. G was a paramedic with them some years back. After their assessment, we all arrived at the hospital an hour later.
He spent the day there getting treated like a pin cushion. He had an emergency stress test, Fortunately all was normal as far as the heart was concerned. Now he just has to heal the bruises from the needle sticks!
We were supposed to go to Little Hill Country Place. Obviously that was out. I had told the boxer volunteer that we would be gone, but would like to look at dogs the next weekend. When I called and explained our plans had drastically changed, she said there was no problem to come on Saturday.
We got to her house. She let Simone out of the crate and into the back yard - which is the way she does the dogs. G fell in love with her too. When Simone came into the house, she was all over G. We paid our fee and brought her home. As I was leaving I told the volunteer she knew what she was doing when she brought Simone to the home visit. She said she did!
She has fit into our routine like she has always been here. I feel really bad though because normally I am here all day. Sunday was church. Then my son and his band were part of a benefit concert for Toys For Tots. We had to go there -well we really wanted to, and it meant so much to B.
Yesterday Lady Bug was sick and K asked me to come watch her for an hour. I should have known one hour equals two. The reason I am beating my self up is because I believe Simone may have opened her stitches from her recent spaying. I have to go out and get her things - a collar, sweater, etc. She will be alone for a while again.
We are really happy to have her. She is a really good companion. She is beginning to settle in, and is not as needy as she was. I feel really good to have given a home to a worthy boxer who didn't have one.
After several attempts to get the application submitted (the first email address was incorrect) I got a response stating that a volunteer would be calling me. She did, and we set the home visit. I felt almost like a was trying to adopt a child! When the volunteer came, she had a beautiful flashy brindle female. She was so incredibly sweet. She is a real people dog. She obviously had not been given the attention she so wanted. She also was probably used as a "puppy mill." It is obvious she has delivered many litters of pups. But she won my heart.
Friday morning early, G was awake and moving about. I was awake wondering what was wrong with him when he told me to either call the ambulance or take him to the hospital. He was having chest pains. That will get your blood moving. I was set to take him. I had the car warming up since it was one of our unusual cold snaps, and he had complained he couldn't ever get warm at work on Thursday.
He said that the pain was worse. I called the ambulance. They got here after what seemed like an hour, but I know the response time was actually good. We are a volunteer service, so they had to get up and get to the station. G was a paramedic with them some years back. After their assessment, we all arrived at the hospital an hour later.
He spent the day there getting treated like a pin cushion. He had an emergency stress test, Fortunately all was normal as far as the heart was concerned. Now he just has to heal the bruises from the needle sticks!
We were supposed to go to Little Hill Country Place. Obviously that was out. I had told the boxer volunteer that we would be gone, but would like to look at dogs the next weekend. When I called and explained our plans had drastically changed, she said there was no problem to come on Saturday.
We got to her house. She let Simone out of the crate and into the back yard - which is the way she does the dogs. G fell in love with her too. When Simone came into the house, she was all over G. We paid our fee and brought her home. As I was leaving I told the volunteer she knew what she was doing when she brought Simone to the home visit. She said she did!
She has fit into our routine like she has always been here. I feel really bad though because normally I am here all day. Sunday was church. Then my son and his band were part of a benefit concert for Toys For Tots. We had to go there -well we really wanted to, and it meant so much to B.
Yesterday Lady Bug was sick and K asked me to come watch her for an hour. I should have known one hour equals two. The reason I am beating my self up is because I believe Simone may have opened her stitches from her recent spaying. I have to go out and get her things - a collar, sweater, etc. She will be alone for a while again.
We are really happy to have her. She is a really good companion. She is beginning to settle in, and is not as needy as she was. I feel really good to have given a home to a worthy boxer who didn't have one.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Learned lesson!
After I posted yesterday, I realized that I completely forgot to use spell check. It's not that I am that much of a poor speller, it's just that as a typist I make a much better speller!! I really make many typos.
Probably the reason I make so many typos is that back in the dark ages when I was in school, my mother absolutely forbid me taking typing. She was so afraid I would become a secretary, and she wanted more for me. One of the ironies here is that she refused to type my papers for me. My high school was a college prep school, and every course had a term paper. What fun that was. Folks, this is before PCs.
The other irony is that good secretaries these days make more than teachers. I think I could have been a great secretary.
I also learned that if I go to blogger later in the day to try to redeem by post, I can just forget it. I guess they get so busy that I am constantly trying to edit and repost, but all I can do is to go through the password stuff again and again.
I promise that I will not post again without going through spell check.
Probably the reason I make so many typos is that back in the dark ages when I was in school, my mother absolutely forbid me taking typing. She was so afraid I would become a secretary, and she wanted more for me. One of the ironies here is that she refused to type my papers for me. My high school was a college prep school, and every course had a term paper. What fun that was. Folks, this is before PCs.
The other irony is that good secretaries these days make more than teachers. I think I could have been a great secretary.
I also learned that if I go to blogger later in the day to try to redeem by post, I can just forget it. I guess they get so busy that I am constantly trying to edit and repost, but all I can do is to go through the password stuff again and again.
I promise that I will not post again without going through spell check.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Slipping further away?
G went along with me yesterday to visit my dad. The new activity director had three women pulled over in the dining area coloring. My dad was standing when we got there picking up a crayon. I could never ascertain if he was actually coloring with that group or not. When he looked up and G greeted him, there was clear confusion on his face. When he looked toward me, there was the same confused look. G "introduced" himself, and it was clear that the name meant something, but the look was still there. He said "and this is your daughter" to which Dad parroted back "this is your daughter."
We went to another table to sit. I was frantically looking for something to talk about. In a flash I pulled out pictures of Lady Bug and Monkey Boy. I asked if he remembered his great grandchildren, he, of course, indicated he did. I just don't know where he is right now. He has been so successful at covering up all these years he remembers how to do that.
My heart is ripped out of my body every time we go to visit. I told G that's the reason I usually try to go with a crowd. You can see that Dad wants to participate in some kind of conversation, but he struggles to find the words. This must be incredible frustration. If K and the kids are there, he seems to be content with watching them and listening to our conversation. The down side of taking the kids is that the women in there revert back to the time they were mothers or functioning grandmothers. It really scared Lady Bug when they try to tough her. This is going to sound like a very proud grandmother, but the girl is stunning. She has the curls of Shirley Temple, and her face is beautiful. Monkey Boy is 16 months which in itself draws all the women to him, but he too is a very handsome kid. The last time I was afraid one of the women would hurt him without meaning to because she was sure that he was part of her family (who fortunately showed up after a bit - and she didn't recognize them).
I pray every day that this terrible disease will pass me by, or that I get lucky and something will take me either before I am afflicted with it or in the very early stages. I don't want to be in a place like that. I know Dad didn't. I don't want to be in diapers that the aides have to change. I don't want to try to join in a conversation, but can't find the proper words. I don't want to say things that may be the obvious truth that hurt someone's feelings.
I guess we have no choice in our fate. We can try to do things to protect out health. My father is pretty well physically. His knees have no cartilage left and the arthritis is so painful, but how could he have protected his wonderful mind?
We went to another table to sit. I was frantically looking for something to talk about. In a flash I pulled out pictures of Lady Bug and Monkey Boy. I asked if he remembered his great grandchildren, he, of course, indicated he did. I just don't know where he is right now. He has been so successful at covering up all these years he remembers how to do that.
My heart is ripped out of my body every time we go to visit. I told G that's the reason I usually try to go with a crowd. You can see that Dad wants to participate in some kind of conversation, but he struggles to find the words. This must be incredible frustration. If K and the kids are there, he seems to be content with watching them and listening to our conversation. The down side of taking the kids is that the women in there revert back to the time they were mothers or functioning grandmothers. It really scared Lady Bug when they try to tough her. This is going to sound like a very proud grandmother, but the girl is stunning. She has the curls of Shirley Temple, and her face is beautiful. Monkey Boy is 16 months which in itself draws all the women to him, but he too is a very handsome kid. The last time I was afraid one of the women would hurt him without meaning to because she was sure that he was part of her family (who fortunately showed up after a bit - and she didn't recognize them).
I pray every day that this terrible disease will pass me by, or that I get lucky and something will take me either before I am afflicted with it or in the very early stages. I don't want to be in a place like that. I know Dad didn't. I don't want to be in diapers that the aides have to change. I don't want to try to join in a conversation, but can't find the proper words. I don't want to say things that may be the obvious truth that hurt someone's feelings.
I guess we have no choice in our fate. We can try to do things to protect out health. My father is pretty well physically. His knees have no cartilage left and the arthritis is so painful, but how could he have protected his wonderful mind?
Monday, December 05, 2005
Profitable day
Yesterday I participated in our little incorporated suburb's "Holiday in the Park." It's a fun little celebration where they bring snow in for the children of our city, and collect food for one of the shelters nearby. I was hesitant to go. I feared the weather wasn't going to allow the event, but it didn't rain until the whole thing was over, so it was a success.
K and I started a little candle and crafts business about four years ago. We never have made a profit, but it was fun. I have been making jewelry this year, and began making purses also. K talked me into taking a vendor"s booth to sell these things. We also brought the candles along for good measure. The idea was "let's get rid of these suckers."
We have had those candles for about 3 years. We are getting out of business with that particular brand because they don't want us and other small dealers anymore. They have a new policy for ordering the candles. To order candles wholesale now, you must place a $500 order. When we first ordered, the minimum was about $150. We have about $300 invested in the candles. Do you see where I'm headed. If we placed a minimum now, she would inherit my half because I don't think we could sell that many in my lifetime!!
So we packed up the jewelry, purses (including the cigar box ones), candles, and what we described as "fun purses" for the little girls, and headed off to the park. We really weren't prepared to set up. The last time we set up was probably two years ago. We were a table short, so we were very cramped. We couldn't display the items - namely the jewelry well. One woman came over to look at the jewelry. She found a set she was quite taken with. She asked if we had a mirror. Eghad, we never thought of THAT!! Needless to say, even though she said she would be back - she wasn't.
We severely slashed the candle prices. People who normally buy that brand saw the price, and bought. Now these candles are wonderful candles. I love them. I'm just mad at their new policy for us small dealers. We always tried to sell them for the MSRP. Well they just didn't move. SO we set out to get rid of them. We sold eight! In four short hours, we sold eight!! To make a long story short, I'm glad K insisted we participate. We made $189!! Christmas is looking much sweeter now!
K and I started a little candle and crafts business about four years ago. We never have made a profit, but it was fun. I have been making jewelry this year, and began making purses also. K talked me into taking a vendor"s booth to sell these things. We also brought the candles along for good measure. The idea was "let's get rid of these suckers."
We have had those candles for about 3 years. We are getting out of business with that particular brand because they don't want us and other small dealers anymore. They have a new policy for ordering the candles. To order candles wholesale now, you must place a $500 order. When we first ordered, the minimum was about $150. We have about $300 invested in the candles. Do you see where I'm headed. If we placed a minimum now, she would inherit my half because I don't think we could sell that many in my lifetime!!
So we packed up the jewelry, purses (including the cigar box ones), candles, and what we described as "fun purses" for the little girls, and headed off to the park. We really weren't prepared to set up. The last time we set up was probably two years ago. We were a table short, so we were very cramped. We couldn't display the items - namely the jewelry well. One woman came over to look at the jewelry. She found a set she was quite taken with. She asked if we had a mirror. Eghad, we never thought of THAT!! Needless to say, even though she said she would be back - she wasn't.
We severely slashed the candle prices. People who normally buy that brand saw the price, and bought. Now these candles are wonderful candles. I love them. I'm just mad at their new policy for us small dealers. We always tried to sell them for the MSRP. Well they just didn't move. SO we set out to get rid of them. We sold eight! In four short hours, we sold eight!! To make a long story short, I'm glad K insisted we participate. We made $189!! Christmas is looking much sweeter now!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Thankful Thanksgiving is over
I suppose this is going to sound like a rather negative post. Let's just say that I need to vent, and this is my safe place. All in all Thanksgiving was really quite good, but there were some rough spots to get over. Isn't that always the way when there are seven people living in 1700 square feet for about five days.
The good part was that the turkey was just great. Son in law, S was going to fry the turkey this year - even though he had never done such a thing before. He had used the frier, but for catfish and shrimp. I fifteen pound turkey is another thing. He was banished into the north pasture (I forgot to tell you we were in the Middle of Nowhere Hill Country place). It has been so dry up there I was very afraid of a fire. Let's face it - a propane burner, four gallons of hot peanut oil and a dropped turkey could equal disaster. Husband was self proclaimed "Safety Officer" armed with a shovel and water hose. The shovel for the grass fire and the water to stop the flames on S. There was a minor mixup with the turkey. S thought I had the baster and I was sure this was his deal. The solution I came up with was to brine the turkey for about 4 hours. Not really long enough, but it worked.
The parts to moan and groan over now come. On Friday, S was going to do ribs on the pit. G HATES beef ribs. What kind does S do? You guessed it - beef. Our little pit is a side fire box smoker that CAN be used as a regular pit. Monkey Boy would not let me hold him at all this weekend, so S had him outside with him. When S asked for the bag of charcoal, I assumed (I know the saying about assume) he was going to set it in the main part of the grill and cook the ribs that way. Nope! When I looked out the door, there were flames rising five feet from the tiny fire box.
Daughter and step granddaughter were out hunting. K called on the radio. She shot something. G was going to take over at the pit. I walked out to see what was going on. The top door of the firebox was completely charred - paint burned off. The fire was entirely too hot. When I looked inside, the ribs were piled on top of one another. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. G told me he couldn't keep the heat going in the pit side. I took over and added the cooking wood that should have been used - after being soaked. It of course was not. I don't think our little pit will ever be the same.
During this fiasco, we heard another shot. We thought it was our hunter and his daughter. Nope. S had to show off. He saw three does on the crest of the hill after retrieving K's buck. He shot (this making 3 of that family's quota of 5 deer). When he got to the deer, it was a yearling. A button buck. I could not believe how stupid that was. He is always claiming he is so good at aging deer on the hoof. I guess Mr. Great Hunter just had to show off for his ladies. That ended up making him look like a fool.
S's family apparently only had three sets of silverware when he was growing up because they seem to think everyone doesn't mind eating after them. S constantly uses his fork (already eaten from) to stick into the jam to get more. Of course, he likes a little eggs with his jam. He could eat the entire jar - and nearly does at breakfast. That was the norm again. The twist is that Step granddaughter went a little further. When she wanted left over pie, she just ate part of the pieces in the pie pan and left the rest. That is soooo nasty to me. Here was the pies with little scoops out of them. Lady Bug couldn't have done that, although it would have been something I would expect from a 4 year old, because the pies were out of her reach.
OK. Enough venting. All in all this was a time to be thankful and enjoy the company of family. I wish B and C could have been there for at least some of the time, but they were visiting C's family. It was still a good time.
The good part was that the turkey was just great. Son in law, S was going to fry the turkey this year - even though he had never done such a thing before. He had used the frier, but for catfish and shrimp. I fifteen pound turkey is another thing. He was banished into the north pasture (I forgot to tell you we were in the Middle of Nowhere Hill Country place). It has been so dry up there I was very afraid of a fire. Let's face it - a propane burner, four gallons of hot peanut oil and a dropped turkey could equal disaster. Husband was self proclaimed "Safety Officer" armed with a shovel and water hose. The shovel for the grass fire and the water to stop the flames on S. There was a minor mixup with the turkey. S thought I had the baster and I was sure this was his deal. The solution I came up with was to brine the turkey for about 4 hours. Not really long enough, but it worked.
The parts to moan and groan over now come. On Friday, S was going to do ribs on the pit. G HATES beef ribs. What kind does S do? You guessed it - beef. Our little pit is a side fire box smoker that CAN be used as a regular pit. Monkey Boy would not let me hold him at all this weekend, so S had him outside with him. When S asked for the bag of charcoal, I assumed (I know the saying about assume) he was going to set it in the main part of the grill and cook the ribs that way. Nope! When I looked out the door, there were flames rising five feet from the tiny fire box.
Daughter and step granddaughter were out hunting. K called on the radio. She shot something. G was going to take over at the pit. I walked out to see what was going on. The top door of the firebox was completely charred - paint burned off. The fire was entirely too hot. When I looked inside, the ribs were piled on top of one another. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. G told me he couldn't keep the heat going in the pit side. I took over and added the cooking wood that should have been used - after being soaked. It of course was not. I don't think our little pit will ever be the same.
During this fiasco, we heard another shot. We thought it was our hunter and his daughter. Nope. S had to show off. He saw three does on the crest of the hill after retrieving K's buck. He shot (this making 3 of that family's quota of 5 deer). When he got to the deer, it was a yearling. A button buck. I could not believe how stupid that was. He is always claiming he is so good at aging deer on the hoof. I guess Mr. Great Hunter just had to show off for his ladies. That ended up making him look like a fool.
S's family apparently only had three sets of silverware when he was growing up because they seem to think everyone doesn't mind eating after them. S constantly uses his fork (already eaten from) to stick into the jam to get more. Of course, he likes a little eggs with his jam. He could eat the entire jar - and nearly does at breakfast. That was the norm again. The twist is that Step granddaughter went a little further. When she wanted left over pie, she just ate part of the pieces in the pie pan and left the rest. That is soooo nasty to me. Here was the pies with little scoops out of them. Lady Bug couldn't have done that, although it would have been something I would expect from a 4 year old, because the pies were out of her reach.
OK. Enough venting. All in all this was a time to be thankful and enjoy the company of family. I wish B and C could have been there for at least some of the time, but they were visiting C's family. It was still a good time.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
More memories
I guess this time of year really sends me back to yesterday! Different things bring vivid memories back to me, and not all of them I want to remember. One that I remember with warmth is the "ceremony" of the "pulley bone." Have you ever heard of the pulley bone? That was one of my favorite things that went along with the Thanksgiving turkey. And since I was the only child, I always got one end of that pulley bone with Dad usually on the other. For this of you who have no idea what I am talking about, the "pulley bone" is otherwise known as the wishbone!
There is a commercial that shows two children making a wish over this bone. I began remembering my adventures with said bone. I couldn't wait for that bird to be sufficiently devoured so we could get to that bone. That was the only thing I really wanted from old Tom Turkey! I know there is another name for that blasted bone. Forgive me Dr Hartman but my anatomy lessons fail me now! Humph, some biologist I am! Use it or lose it, you know!
There is another memory that came flooding back to me. I hadn't thought of it at all until I was reading another blog that it hit me(someday I will learn how to put in links and will have my favorite sites over there on the side). She was a history professor, and commented that she will miss being behind a lecturn today. She loved to lecture on the JFK assassination. That is not the real memory that haunts me. The real one is that today, on that very day, I had the stupid idea to elope.
Now if that doesn't make for a terrible memory, I don't know what does. I am so thankful that the plan was discovered, and there was an immediate stop put to it. I never set out to hurt my parents like that. I thought that at 18 I knew all there was to know, and I thought I wanted to marry this boy. It would have been such a horrible mistake. But I remember fleeing to my best friends house because I simply couldn't stay in the same house with my understandingly distraught parents. But there on the news was coverage of JFK.
And so, even though I try with all my might to forget that near mistake, each year it comes back to me. Memories are like that. They come flooding back with such intensity. Often that is a good thing (thank you Martha Stewart) and make you all warm and fuzzy. You remember how good times were - even if that memory has skewed a bit. But then there are memories that you really want to repress and never have them come back. But I believe they serve a purpose. As much as I squirm and try to run from the memory of hurting my parents to the quick, I think that memory is important to me. My children have done things that hurt me. Some as much as that memory hurt my parents. I need to remember that, as humans, we are not perfect. We do hurt the ones we love without really meaning to do so. We must be able to get over the hurt, forgive, and go on. The hurt doesn't have to be openly referred to because it will always be there, but the love and forgiveness must be openly shown.
I hope your memories are pleasant, and make those that aren't work for you, not against you.
There is a commercial that shows two children making a wish over this bone. I began remembering my adventures with said bone. I couldn't wait for that bird to be sufficiently devoured so we could get to that bone. That was the only thing I really wanted from old Tom Turkey! I know there is another name for that blasted bone. Forgive me Dr Hartman but my anatomy lessons fail me now! Humph, some biologist I am! Use it or lose it, you know!
There is another memory that came flooding back to me. I hadn't thought of it at all until I was reading another blog that it hit me(someday I will learn how to put in links and will have my favorite sites over there on the side). She was a history professor, and commented that she will miss being behind a lecturn today. She loved to lecture on the JFK assassination. That is not the real memory that haunts me. The real one is that today, on that very day, I had the stupid idea to elope.
Now if that doesn't make for a terrible memory, I don't know what does. I am so thankful that the plan was discovered, and there was an immediate stop put to it. I never set out to hurt my parents like that. I thought that at 18 I knew all there was to know, and I thought I wanted to marry this boy. It would have been such a horrible mistake. But I remember fleeing to my best friends house because I simply couldn't stay in the same house with my understandingly distraught parents. But there on the news was coverage of JFK.
And so, even though I try with all my might to forget that near mistake, each year it comes back to me. Memories are like that. They come flooding back with such intensity. Often that is a good thing (thank you Martha Stewart) and make you all warm and fuzzy. You remember how good times were - even if that memory has skewed a bit. But then there are memories that you really want to repress and never have them come back. But I believe they serve a purpose. As much as I squirm and try to run from the memory of hurting my parents to the quick, I think that memory is important to me. My children have done things that hurt me. Some as much as that memory hurt my parents. I need to remember that, as humans, we are not perfect. We do hurt the ones we love without really meaning to do so. We must be able to get over the hurt, forgive, and go on. The hurt doesn't have to be openly referred to because it will always be there, but the love and forgiveness must be openly shown.
I hope your memories are pleasant, and make those that aren't work for you, not against you.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
A bit of remembering
This morning I was watching "Today." During the show, they went to various department stores in New York that were unveiling their Christmas windows. Those beautiful decorated windows sent me right back to my childhood in the 50's. Joske's Department Store in San Antonio used to decorate their windows every Christmas. I remember waiting with great anticipation seeing those beautiful windows. Of course to a young child, it was not only the wonder of those windows, but the great event that soon followed - Christmas Eve.
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
A bit of remembering
This morning I was watching "Today." During the show, they went to various department stores in New York that were unveiling their Christmas windows. Those beautiful decorated windows sent me right back to my childhood in the 50's. Joske's Department Store in San Antonio used to decorate their windows every Christmas. I remember waiting with great anticipation seeing those beautiful windows. Of course to a young child, it was not only the wonder of those windows, but the great event that soon followed - Christmas Eve.
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Today was the day
Today was my day with Lady Bug. I carefully poured over cookie recipes choosing the ones that I thought would be easy for us to do together. I made a list of where these were located, made the shopping list, went to the store and then set everything out. I had chosen five recipes, and I thought they were wonderful. We made the first one and had just set the first baking sheet into the over. Did I say this recipe makes FIVE dozen? Lady Bug says to me: "OK Grandma, what do we do now? When are we making the Christmas cookies?"
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
Today was the day
Today was my day with Lady Bug. I carefully poured over cookie recipes choosing the ones that I thought would be easy for us to do together. I made a list of where these were located, made the shopping list, went to the store and then set everything out. I had chosen five recipes, and I thought they were wonderful. We made the first one and had just set the first baking sheet into the over. Did I say this recipe makes FIVE dozen? Lady Bug says to me: "OK Grandma, what do we do now? When are we making the Christmas cookies?"
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
A new experience
Thursday I am going to venture into the world of new experiences! Lady Bug and I are going to make cookies. I didn't even do this with my children. Isn't it funny what we will do for our grandchildren? She wants to cook something so desperately. When I stayed with the kids last week, she asked if she could cook with M that night. I think she was a little disappointed when I told her I was going to order Chinese. That was a big mixed experience for her. While she loves Chinese, she wanted to cook.
Now I have to decide what kind of cookies we can make together. I am thinking drop cookies would be the best. They are relatively easy to produce. I believe she would enjoy cutting cookies out too, and I know she would enjoy decorating them. I just worry about the mess.
In reality, I am really looking forward to Thursday. I think it will be fun. I am certainly past the stage where a little mess gets to me. There are things much more important in life. Spending time with my granddaughter is really right at the top of things that are important to me.
We went to Little Place in the Hill Country this past weekend. My niece was there with her son. I enjoyed watching my sister in law interact with him. She was sure that there would never be a grandchild. I know she was a bit jealous when Lady Bug came along, especially since I was less that thrilled at the prospect of being a grandmother. I am so glad she has her grandson. She makes a special effort to go to the little church to show him off on the occasions he is there.
I know she would love to have a granddaughter. She has a wonderful doll collection, and she always buys Lady Bug the cutest outfits for Christmas. All I can do is hope E will come though with a girl sometime. I was thrilled when we found that K was having a girl. C (daughter in law) can have all boys if it comes to that - I have my granddaughter! I wouldn't mind if C has girls though. They are so much fun.
Our extended family Christmas will once again be at Little Place in the Hill Country since G's siblings all have places within a mile from us (family land). Last year, Monkey Boy was only 6 months old. This year all three of the grandchildren are very mobile. It may be am exciting time this year.
It is nice to see the "new" generation. It is nice to just enjoy them. When it's your children, you are too busy making sure they grow up "properly." Grandchildren are there to simply enjoy, and that's what I intend to do!
Now I have to decide what kind of cookies we can make together. I am thinking drop cookies would be the best. They are relatively easy to produce. I believe she would enjoy cutting cookies out too, and I know she would enjoy decorating them. I just worry about the mess.
In reality, I am really looking forward to Thursday. I think it will be fun. I am certainly past the stage where a little mess gets to me. There are things much more important in life. Spending time with my granddaughter is really right at the top of things that are important to me.
We went to Little Place in the Hill Country this past weekend. My niece was there with her son. I enjoyed watching my sister in law interact with him. She was sure that there would never be a grandchild. I know she was a bit jealous when Lady Bug came along, especially since I was less that thrilled at the prospect of being a grandmother. I am so glad she has her grandson. She makes a special effort to go to the little church to show him off on the occasions he is there.
I know she would love to have a granddaughter. She has a wonderful doll collection, and she always buys Lady Bug the cutest outfits for Christmas. All I can do is hope E will come though with a girl sometime. I was thrilled when we found that K was having a girl. C (daughter in law) can have all boys if it comes to that - I have my granddaughter! I wouldn't mind if C has girls though. They are so much fun.
Our extended family Christmas will once again be at Little Place in the Hill Country since G's siblings all have places within a mile from us (family land). Last year, Monkey Boy was only 6 months old. This year all three of the grandchildren are very mobile. It may be am exciting time this year.
It is nice to see the "new" generation. It is nice to just enjoy them. When it's your children, you are too busy making sure they grow up "properly." Grandchildren are there to simply enjoy, and that's what I intend to do!
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Incredible also
Well, G called his father last night to wish him a "Happy Birthday." When the conversation turned to the agreed upon visit of an assisted living facility, the answer was exactly what I thought it would be. No they didn't go to look. Everything is just fine, and the 17 year old dog with kidney disease who stroked out a month and a half ago is just fine. They have no problems. They are going to stay in the old house in a neighborhood that is no longer what it was. Strange how 50 years can being changes to a neighborhood that aren't positive.
So what a huge waste of time and gasoline money (it was pushing $3 per gallon then). How did I know things would turn out this way? Experience. There will have to be an emergency. Fortunately, I was rather prepared when it happened to my parents. The fact remains whoever, we do live at least 3 hours away, and that is in good traffic conditions. I guess the other siblings who live in Capital City only a little over an hour away will have to cope with this one.
I sound harsh, and I really this is not what I mean. As my days in this bank of life begin to dwindle (even though I try to ignore that fact - I'm still 21, right???) I think about what will happen to me. The thought of giving up my independent life is not something I want to do. G's aunt was thinking about assisted living. She's younger than the in-laws and goes everywhere. Her house was sold, and assisted living was one of her options. Her comment was that she didn't want to live with those "old people." I deeply agree. I look at the people in the place where I go to visit dad. There are three levels of people there. Very independent with "apartments" of their own, those who live in the facilities in rooms, and the locked unit. There are some folks who look to be less than 70. I still wouldn't want to live there. I would go nuts. But the fact remains that, if I live long enough, I will not be able to remain totally independent. I will not be able to care for this 2800 square foot house. It's difficult now; soon it will be virtually impossible. But I love this house. I utilize all but one room.
So what to do with the in-laws? I guess let them be. There must be some research done by the family for the back up needs however. G even told them he doesn't want an emergency like I had. Hopefully, little sister can come and stay - even during Christmas when school is out and begin looking and setting plans. The in-laws don't realize that the "good places" often have waiting lists. We had to wait a week even after the emergency.
Getting older is really not fun. The arthritis, associated health concerns, the looming future are not the most pleasant things in this world. Being older with still older parents is also not much fun when it comes to looking at their well being. Mother in law again changed her mind. I just wonder what it is going to take. I wonder what it will take for me?
So what a huge waste of time and gasoline money (it was pushing $3 per gallon then). How did I know things would turn out this way? Experience. There will have to be an emergency. Fortunately, I was rather prepared when it happened to my parents. The fact remains whoever, we do live at least 3 hours away, and that is in good traffic conditions. I guess the other siblings who live in Capital City only a little over an hour away will have to cope with this one.
I sound harsh, and I really this is not what I mean. As my days in this bank of life begin to dwindle (even though I try to ignore that fact - I'm still 21, right???) I think about what will happen to me. The thought of giving up my independent life is not something I want to do. G's aunt was thinking about assisted living. She's younger than the in-laws and goes everywhere. Her house was sold, and assisted living was one of her options. Her comment was that she didn't want to live with those "old people." I deeply agree. I look at the people in the place where I go to visit dad. There are three levels of people there. Very independent with "apartments" of their own, those who live in the facilities in rooms, and the locked unit. There are some folks who look to be less than 70. I still wouldn't want to live there. I would go nuts. But the fact remains that, if I live long enough, I will not be able to remain totally independent. I will not be able to care for this 2800 square foot house. It's difficult now; soon it will be virtually impossible. But I love this house. I utilize all but one room.
So what to do with the in-laws? I guess let them be. There must be some research done by the family for the back up needs however. G even told them he doesn't want an emergency like I had. Hopefully, little sister can come and stay - even during Christmas when school is out and begin looking and setting plans. The in-laws don't realize that the "good places" often have waiting lists. We had to wait a week even after the emergency.
Getting older is really not fun. The arthritis, associated health concerns, the looming future are not the most pleasant things in this world. Being older with still older parents is also not much fun when it comes to looking at their well being. Mother in law again changed her mind. I just wonder what it is going to take. I wonder what it will take for me?
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Ummmm
I stayed with the grandchildren last night because K and S were both out of town on business trips. I knew I would be doing this for about a month and a half. I didn't see that there would be a problem - well perhaps with step granddaughter. She sometimes can pull real boner stunts, but that's mostly with K and S.
K promised that she would wean Monkey Boy and have him sleeping in his crib by the time I was going to stay with them. Guess what! She didn't. Monkey Boy is 15 months old and still nurses. Last night it was cold turkey! There was just a bottle and there is no comparison there. Yesterday afternoon he would realize Mom wasn't there and would cry so hard. This is in addition to cutting two molars.
M came downstairs when she heard him, and I decided to go ahead and feed him his dinner. Fortunately she knew to give him a cup that allows for a straw. This made him happier. Then she let him have some of the chocolate milk she made herself. Things went quite well until about 7:45. He realized that there was still no mom. The crying began again. M then said that the best move at that point was to take him for a drive. Worked like a charm! The only drawback was that when I got him back, they were watching a movie. That meant I missed "Boston Legal." As the credit card commercial states: Drive with Monkey Boy - $2.30/gallon; missed show - no real set amount; sleeping Monkey Boy - PRICELESS!
I was able to put him into the crib. Lady Bug sleeps on a pallet in their room. I was able to put her there after she fell asleep. About 2:30 Monkey Boy woke. He DID take a bottle this time. By 7:30 I had them both in bed with me. Now I'm ready for a nap.
All in all, it was a good experience, but I sure do wish she would wean him! Especially if I have to do this again.
K promised that she would wean Monkey Boy and have him sleeping in his crib by the time I was going to stay with them. Guess what! She didn't. Monkey Boy is 15 months old and still nurses. Last night it was cold turkey! There was just a bottle and there is no comparison there. Yesterday afternoon he would realize Mom wasn't there and would cry so hard. This is in addition to cutting two molars.
M came downstairs when she heard him, and I decided to go ahead and feed him his dinner. Fortunately she knew to give him a cup that allows for a straw. This made him happier. Then she let him have some of the chocolate milk she made herself. Things went quite well until about 7:45. He realized that there was still no mom. The crying began again. M then said that the best move at that point was to take him for a drive. Worked like a charm! The only drawback was that when I got him back, they were watching a movie. That meant I missed "Boston Legal." As the credit card commercial states: Drive with Monkey Boy - $2.30/gallon; missed show - no real set amount; sleeping Monkey Boy - PRICELESS!
I was able to put him into the crib. Lady Bug sleeps on a pallet in their room. I was able to put her there after she fell asleep. About 2:30 Monkey Boy woke. He DID take a bottle this time. By 7:30 I had them both in bed with me. Now I'm ready for a nap.
All in all, it was a good experience, but I sure do wish she would wean him! Especially if I have to do this again.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Revisiting self doubt
I had another session of beating myself up emotionally this weekend. I revisited the world of doubting myself as to putting my dad in the Memory Support Unit. How could I put my father in a that locked unit? How could I not go visit everyday? I know how I would feel were it I. It would kill me to be dumped with no daily visits. I know this because I expect it! Yes, I know I do. I've only been in a hospital four times. Twice for child birth, and twice because ofaccidents, and I expected visits. As good as he is about some things, my husband is not one to sit in a hospital room, and I was in a snit.
When I broke my ankle, I had to have surgery to put a pin in it. I had a 24 hour, 59 minute admit - wonderful insurance - this was "out patient" surgery. G stayed during the surgery and recovery, but as soon as I was in my room, he was gone. He and my son came for a visit that evening, but they didn't stay long. I didn't like that! Yeah, it's all about me. The only child syndrome at its best. Seriously, I could have used a little help though. When it was meal time the nurse put the tray on the bed table not even setting it up for me. I guess I was freaked out because the doctor told me if I rebroke the ankle, pulling out the pin, there would have to be a bone graft from my hip. At this point I had only a soft cast. I was afraid to even move!
Back to Dad. When I do get out there, he is always the same. Sitting off to the side, head in hands, appearing to sleep. He always brightens when I speak to him, but he is at the stage that he simply parrots back questions most of the time. You can see him really searching for words when he tries to say something else. It kills me! With him being in this situation, and watching his fellow residents, just who in the world do I expect him to interact with. All those others are in their own worlds. They have no grasp on reality. Even the ones that I suspect to be a little more "with it" will begin speaking logically - then it's gone. They are out in left field somewhere. So it's no wonder he is always off alone.
My daughter keeps supporting me telling me that I did what I had to do. She keeps telling me that the father I grew up with is no longer with us. I KNOW that, but a part of me still believes he is still here. I think there is that hope that what I see is not true. But it is. I have been there when his memory has been tested. It is not there. I have to keep telling myself that he is safe where he is. That was not true when he was living independently. That would not be true if even he were living in my house. He would have wandered off as he proved to me. It may not be as true today because his arthritis in his knees is so bad. When he moves it is so slowly, but the general eveyday care would be beyond me.
As one faces old age, these thoughts come very clear. You see the way you don't want to be treated, but you also see what sometimes has to be done. All you can do is hope that you will be treated as well as possibe.If it's a way you never you wanted, hopefully you are in that other world and you won't even really know it.
When I broke my ankle, I had to have surgery to put a pin in it. I had a 24 hour, 59 minute admit - wonderful insurance - this was "out patient" surgery. G stayed during the surgery and recovery, but as soon as I was in my room, he was gone. He and my son came for a visit that evening, but they didn't stay long. I didn't like that! Yeah, it's all about me. The only child syndrome at its best. Seriously, I could have used a little help though. When it was meal time the nurse put the tray on the bed table not even setting it up for me. I guess I was freaked out because the doctor told me if I rebroke the ankle, pulling out the pin, there would have to be a bone graft from my hip. At this point I had only a soft cast. I was afraid to even move!
Back to Dad. When I do get out there, he is always the same. Sitting off to the side, head in hands, appearing to sleep. He always brightens when I speak to him, but he is at the stage that he simply parrots back questions most of the time. You can see him really searching for words when he tries to say something else. It kills me! With him being in this situation, and watching his fellow residents, just who in the world do I expect him to interact with. All those others are in their own worlds. They have no grasp on reality. Even the ones that I suspect to be a little more "with it" will begin speaking logically - then it's gone. They are out in left field somewhere. So it's no wonder he is always off alone.
My daughter keeps supporting me telling me that I did what I had to do. She keeps telling me that the father I grew up with is no longer with us. I KNOW that, but a part of me still believes he is still here. I think there is that hope that what I see is not true. But it is. I have been there when his memory has been tested. It is not there. I have to keep telling myself that he is safe where he is. That was not true when he was living independently. That would not be true if even he were living in my house. He would have wandered off as he proved to me. It may not be as true today because his arthritis in his knees is so bad. When he moves it is so slowly, but the general eveyday care would be beyond me.
As one faces old age, these thoughts come very clear. You see the way you don't want to be treated, but you also see what sometimes has to be done. All you can do is hope that you will be treated as well as possibe.If it's a way you never you wanted, hopefully you are in that other world and you won't even really know it.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Things didn't go as expected
Tuesday I had an appointment for my regular dental cleaning, and I was really feeling great about it. For the first time in a year there were no dental emergencies! No teeth were suddenly broken, no pain in any of my teeth, gums healthy and all that good stuff. The cleaning went so well. No pockets in the gums. Not much plaque. Great!!
Then the dentist came in to survey my mouth. When he asked for the camera, I knew I was in trouble. He took several pictures, then put them on the screen for me to see. The last top molar on the top was cracked. Even though there was no pain, if it were to be lost he couldn't even bridge it. After braces (and an abscessed tooth when I was 12) I'm already down a molar. I also don't have any erupted wisdom teeth, and the one I have unerupted gives no trouble - thank God! So the decision was that we would crown that molar ASAP.
Then the dentist began talking about the other 4 he want to crown, but these are more cosmetic that functional. Some unattractive fillings and one chipped tooth are the reasons for that. Suddenly we are talking about $5000. Internet, I am a retired Texas public school teacher. I simply don't have that kind of money! So they have this plan that you can get credit for 1 year without interest. I (silly me) thought we were referring to the $1000 plus some change for the one. Great! Finance that for a year. That won't hurt a bit. NO! We are talking the whole $5000. There is not that much extra money per month for me to do that. So, at this time, we are doing the one molar. When that treatment is complete we will then face the other. That means no!
My dental problems are my fault. For several years our dental insurance provided for a clinic. They were terrible! Consequently, I didn't go as I should. Even when I went, they missed problems I knew were there. When our insurance changed, and we could go to the good dentist, I still put off going. Then the teeth began breaking, and the odyssey began - and continues yet!
Then the dentist came in to survey my mouth. When he asked for the camera, I knew I was in trouble. He took several pictures, then put them on the screen for me to see. The last top molar on the top was cracked. Even though there was no pain, if it were to be lost he couldn't even bridge it. After braces (and an abscessed tooth when I was 12) I'm already down a molar. I also don't have any erupted wisdom teeth, and the one I have unerupted gives no trouble - thank God! So the decision was that we would crown that molar ASAP.
Then the dentist began talking about the other 4 he want to crown, but these are more cosmetic that functional. Some unattractive fillings and one chipped tooth are the reasons for that. Suddenly we are talking about $5000. Internet, I am a retired Texas public school teacher. I simply don't have that kind of money! So they have this plan that you can get credit for 1 year without interest. I (silly me) thought we were referring to the $1000 plus some change for the one. Great! Finance that for a year. That won't hurt a bit. NO! We are talking the whole $5000. There is not that much extra money per month for me to do that. So, at this time, we are doing the one molar. When that treatment is complete we will then face the other. That means no!
My dental problems are my fault. For several years our dental insurance provided for a clinic. They were terrible! Consequently, I didn't go as I should. Even when I went, they missed problems I knew were there. When our insurance changed, and we could go to the good dentist, I still put off going. Then the teeth began breaking, and the odyssey began - and continues yet!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Rough Roads
As I mentioned last, we took "Wannabe Sports Car" sedan with us. In our part of that particular Texas county, the roads are not paved. It is in the hill country where boulders are the common topographical items. The roads, in other words, are not at all smooth. They are, in fact, the complete opposite of smooth.
Two years ago, my son had a real sports car. It was one of the only times he didn't have a truck. They were coming up to the property to hunt. At that time, our private road was really in terrible condition. Our "neighbors" were living on down the road, but H had not retired yet. He was still going to an adjacent town to work everyday. I really don't know how he managed that road twice a day, but he did. Getting back to my son, by the time they arrived, he was completely shaken. The car drug on rocks several times. He dreaded the trip back out also! Needless to say, they bought a truck in a short time so that trip would never have to be taken again.
Since H has retired, he bought a bull dozer and started to work on the road. D, his wife, told him that when they moved out there H had promised D that her mother could drive her car all the way to their house. Being a good husband, that is exactly what he did. When my husband asked if I thought Wannabe would make the trip, I told him I really believed it would. It would be the vehicle to take on out little day trips since it gets about 26 miles per gallon.
So the time came. Off we went. Things were great until we got to the county roads. They were rough, but Wannabe handled them like a champ! Not even a rattle. Then we made the turn from the first to the second. Obviously Happy Farmer (this I'm not making up - that is his name) had had his crew out to grade the road. This means turning the rocks over. There were many very loose rocks left in their wake. Wannabe wasn't happy. She felt like she was going to spin around. Forget the "traction control" - it seemed to be non existent. So as hubby in the green monster sped off, I was left to creep along.
When I finally got to the private road, he was out of the truck waiting. I guess he was about ready to come looking for me. He asked if I thought Wannabe would make it the rest of the way or should I park at his brother's place. I said I thought all would be well because H had done such a goods job.
So we started down the hill - SLOWLY. Things did great. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that I let a small mesquite scratch the side when I went over the first cattle guard. (Side note in Canada, these are known as Texas Gates!) We got to our cattle guard and things were still good. We started up the hill that our road is on, and I realized we really should have bull dozed again. I was almost at the top and it happened. I drug. What a noise! Fortunately there was no damage - at least it hasn't shown up yet and that was two weeks ago!
So just why didn't we have the road redone when we had other work done this year. The answer is simple. Our phone line was run right down the center of our road. In the ensuing times since the phone was put in, the weather has been almost rain forest wet - especially for this almost desert setting. The road is washing out. So now we have to weigh our options. Glad the son works for the local phone giant! He may get to string phone line!
Two years ago, my son had a real sports car. It was one of the only times he didn't have a truck. They were coming up to the property to hunt. At that time, our private road was really in terrible condition. Our "neighbors" were living on down the road, but H had not retired yet. He was still going to an adjacent town to work everyday. I really don't know how he managed that road twice a day, but he did. Getting back to my son, by the time they arrived, he was completely shaken. The car drug on rocks several times. He dreaded the trip back out also! Needless to say, they bought a truck in a short time so that trip would never have to be taken again.
Since H has retired, he bought a bull dozer and started to work on the road. D, his wife, told him that when they moved out there H had promised D that her mother could drive her car all the way to their house. Being a good husband, that is exactly what he did. When my husband asked if I thought Wannabe would make the trip, I told him I really believed it would. It would be the vehicle to take on out little day trips since it gets about 26 miles per gallon.
So the time came. Off we went. Things were great until we got to the county roads. They were rough, but Wannabe handled them like a champ! Not even a rattle. Then we made the turn from the first to the second. Obviously Happy Farmer (this I'm not making up - that is his name) had had his crew out to grade the road. This means turning the rocks over. There were many very loose rocks left in their wake. Wannabe wasn't happy. She felt like she was going to spin around. Forget the "traction control" - it seemed to be non existent. So as hubby in the green monster sped off, I was left to creep along.
When I finally got to the private road, he was out of the truck waiting. I guess he was about ready to come looking for me. He asked if I thought Wannabe would make it the rest of the way or should I park at his brother's place. I said I thought all would be well because H had done such a goods job.
So we started down the hill - SLOWLY. Things did great. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that I let a small mesquite scratch the side when I went over the first cattle guard. (Side note in Canada, these are known as Texas Gates!) We got to our cattle guard and things were still good. We started up the hill that our road is on, and I realized we really should have bull dozed again. I was almost at the top and it happened. I drug. What a noise! Fortunately there was no damage - at least it hasn't shown up yet and that was two weeks ago!
So just why didn't we have the road redone when we had other work done this year. The answer is simple. Our phone line was run right down the center of our road. In the ensuing times since the phone was put in, the weather has been almost rain forest wet - especially for this almost desert setting. The road is washing out. So now we have to weigh our options. Glad the son works for the local phone giant! He may get to string phone line!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Incredible!
The news last night showed a 15 passenger van carrying old people that had been rear ended by a cement truck. The driver of the truck was so visibly upset. Then this morning it came out the van had a blow out. This resulted in, as of now, four deaths. So what's so incredible about this. Sad for sure by why would I think it was incredible?
This is incredible because a few hours earlier, I could have died because of a blow out. We had been gone to Little Bitty Hill Country Town for 10 days. Since we are out on dirt (read ROCK) roads, we usually take the 4x4 monster truck. We were going to visit surrounding areas, and 14 miles per gallon just doesn't do the trick. We decided to take my 4 door Wannabe Sports Car. The tales about the car and the rock roads are another story.
We were returning home yesterday. I was following the monster truck when I saw a car crossing the center stripe heading for me. All I saw was this car coming straight for me with door moldings flapping, but I could tell the driver actually was trying to keep to the right. As we passed, I saw him careen across the road to the shoulder on my side. About that time I passed a tire that was shredded. I thought he must have hit it and damaged his vehicle. I was so shaken. I really came so close to being hit head on.
About 45 minutes later we stopped for lunch. I was still very shaken. My husband was passing this vehicle when he heard the tire on that vehicle explode (which is something because his radio is usually at maximum volume when I'm not with him). He said that rubber went everywhere. His thought was that I would be hit by that vehicle. Our common thought was that other driver was really gifted. He was running at seventy on a tire rim.
I guess God was my passenger yesterday. I just wish he could have been with those old folks in the van. But more than anything I pray He was with that driver that spared me.
This is incredible because a few hours earlier, I could have died because of a blow out. We had been gone to Little Bitty Hill Country Town for 10 days. Since we are out on dirt (read ROCK) roads, we usually take the 4x4 monster truck. We were going to visit surrounding areas, and 14 miles per gallon just doesn't do the trick. We decided to take my 4 door Wannabe Sports Car. The tales about the car and the rock roads are another story.
We were returning home yesterday. I was following the monster truck when I saw a car crossing the center stripe heading for me. All I saw was this car coming straight for me with door moldings flapping, but I could tell the driver actually was trying to keep to the right. As we passed, I saw him careen across the road to the shoulder on my side. About that time I passed a tire that was shredded. I thought he must have hit it and damaged his vehicle. I was so shaken. I really came so close to being hit head on.
About 45 minutes later we stopped for lunch. I was still very shaken. My husband was passing this vehicle when he heard the tire on that vehicle explode (which is something because his radio is usually at maximum volume when I'm not with him). He said that rubber went everywhere. His thought was that I would be hit by that vehicle. Our common thought was that other driver was really gifted. He was running at seventy on a tire rim.
I guess God was my passenger yesterday. I just wish he could have been with those old folks in the van. But more than anything I pray He was with that driver that spared me.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Here we go again!
I can't believe there is ANOTHER hurricane out there. It's so late in the year. We certainly have had an unusual year for the storms this year. This one is going to give a good blow.
When I was small, I remember all the hurricanes seemed to be more in the Atlantic. I knew water wasn't that far away from us, but the storms hit the East Coast. Then they began coming into the Gulf. There were some very serious ones too. Then the numbers dropped off. I never thought about it again until we moved closer to the Gulf.
The scientists seem to uphold my early belief that they come in cycles. I believe this cycle is going to continue for a while. Perhaps it will be a good thing to move away from here. If K must move for the promotion in her job (and that sucks big time!), we very well may move to the hill country. We have a house up there, and that may become an option.
When I was small, I remember all the hurricanes seemed to be more in the Atlantic. I knew water wasn't that far away from us, but the storms hit the East Coast. Then they began coming into the Gulf. There were some very serious ones too. Then the numbers dropped off. I never thought about it again until we moved closer to the Gulf.
The scientists seem to uphold my early belief that they come in cycles. I believe this cycle is going to continue for a while. Perhaps it will be a good thing to move away from here. If K must move for the promotion in her job (and that sucks big time!), we very well may move to the hill country. We have a house up there, and that may become an option.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Sex discrimination
Yes, boys and girls, sex discrimination exists. It seems as though we have a movie coming out about this subject. It is a serious subject - especially in the work place. But it doesn't always appear in such blatant terms. It can appear in attitudes.
The other day, I took my car to have the alignment checked. The only person who I assumed was in charge of the counter was outside with another customer. After I stood there for what seemed to be a long time, a man arrived carrying a car battery. He placed it on the counter, and in about two minutes someone came out from the back. The clerk asked that man with the battery how he could help HIM. I guess he made the assumption that I was just a woman who had no clue what she wanted, and this was obviously superior male who had successfully extracted a battery from a vehicle. I made the comment that I just loved standing around tire/battery/alignment stores. They both looked at me with some shock. Now that man who had come in with the battery KNEW I was there first. He never said one blessed word. As far as I'm concerned they BOTH are guilty of being MCPs.
The funny part of all this is that I probably know about as much about cars as both of these men. I watched my dad and uncle (who was a professional mechanic) work on motors and cars about as soon as I could stand. I have changed spark plugs, changed tires, changed oil and filters, helped my son "lift" his Jeep. But the assumption of those two men was that I was merely a woman.
The same sort of thing happened to me about 15 years ago. My husband called. He was stranded in a downtown parking garage. He said he thought the problem was the lower battery cable. I knew what he was talking about. It was getting dark, and I hurried to the auto parts store that was close by so that I could get downtown before it really got late. I told the clerk what I needed. When he handed it to me I questioned him, but he assured me that it was the proper part. I guess he thought "Oh, you poor little lady. I am the learned one here; trust me for I am omniscient." Guess what. IT WAS THE WRONG PART! Yes, it was an upper cable.
The old adage of not being able to tell a book by its cover is all too true. I do know about things you do with your hands. I can build things, and repair things. I know what tools are for. So do a whole lot of other women. One of my daughter's friends had them same problem at Home D**ot. She was boarding up for the hurricane. She knew she wanted and needed. They looked at her like she couldn't possibly know what a 10 penny nail was!
Wake up men of this world. We may make you think you are our strong saviors, our heroes, without whom we would just shrivel up and die. It ain't necessarily so.
The other day, I took my car to have the alignment checked. The only person who I assumed was in charge of the counter was outside with another customer. After I stood there for what seemed to be a long time, a man arrived carrying a car battery. He placed it on the counter, and in about two minutes someone came out from the back. The clerk asked that man with the battery how he could help HIM. I guess he made the assumption that I was just a woman who had no clue what she wanted, and this was obviously superior male who had successfully extracted a battery from a vehicle. I made the comment that I just loved standing around tire/battery/alignment stores. They both looked at me with some shock. Now that man who had come in with the battery KNEW I was there first. He never said one blessed word. As far as I'm concerned they BOTH are guilty of being MCPs.
The funny part of all this is that I probably know about as much about cars as both of these men. I watched my dad and uncle (who was a professional mechanic) work on motors and cars about as soon as I could stand. I have changed spark plugs, changed tires, changed oil and filters, helped my son "lift" his Jeep. But the assumption of those two men was that I was merely a woman.
The same sort of thing happened to me about 15 years ago. My husband called. He was stranded in a downtown parking garage. He said he thought the problem was the lower battery cable. I knew what he was talking about. It was getting dark, and I hurried to the auto parts store that was close by so that I could get downtown before it really got late. I told the clerk what I needed. When he handed it to me I questioned him, but he assured me that it was the proper part. I guess he thought "Oh, you poor little lady. I am the learned one here; trust me for I am omniscient." Guess what. IT WAS THE WRONG PART! Yes, it was an upper cable.
The old adage of not being able to tell a book by its cover is all too true. I do know about things you do with your hands. I can build things, and repair things. I know what tools are for. So do a whole lot of other women. One of my daughter's friends had them same problem at Home D**ot. She was boarding up for the hurricane. She knew she wanted and needed. They looked at her like she couldn't possibly know what a 10 penny nail was!
Wake up men of this world. We may make you think you are our strong saviors, our heroes, without whom we would just shrivel up and die. It ain't necessarily so.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
New experience
Today I had a new experience, and it was one I hope to never have again. I was served with a summons! Apparently he was here yesterday and left a card in the mail box (my attorney quipped something about that being illegal since mail boxes are considered Federal property). I couldn't understand why I didn't get the card until I remembered I got the mail while I was still in the car. I couldn't see into the mail box.
The reason for the summons was that I had not paid the entire amount of the bond. Being guardian is not a pleasant job to begin with, but then it also becomes expensive. You pay a bond based on the value of the estate. Since it comes from the estate, the estate diminishes rapidly. What a scheme by the courts, but I do know there are cases of guardians misusing the estate.
I was aware of the increase in the estate. When I called the bonding company, they did not give me the new amount. So the payment was not what the court wanted. I told my attorney that when I called the company, the person to whom I was speaking seemed really irritated by my call. The attorney said she's like that to everyone. Oh well - here goes more money for the bond - and the attorney! I'll still try to do right by my dad. By the way, my nerves are still shot!
The reason for the summons was that I had not paid the entire amount of the bond. Being guardian is not a pleasant job to begin with, but then it also becomes expensive. You pay a bond based on the value of the estate. Since it comes from the estate, the estate diminishes rapidly. What a scheme by the courts, but I do know there are cases of guardians misusing the estate.
I was aware of the increase in the estate. When I called the bonding company, they did not give me the new amount. So the payment was not what the court wanted. I told my attorney that when I called the company, the person to whom I was speaking seemed really irritated by my call. The attorney said she's like that to everyone. Oh well - here goes more money for the bond - and the attorney! I'll still try to do right by my dad. By the way, my nerves are still shot!
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Irony, pure irony
Things have always been rocky between my mother in law and me. I really think part of the reason goes to her feelings about my husband, but that's another story. When I was trying to get my dad and V to go into assisted living, I also got a book for the in laws. She had been making noise about wanting to go into something like it for a couple of years. I gave them the book. She said they didn't need it - they weren't going to leave the house. Given our history, I was not at all surprised; I was just a little miffed.
After the reunion this past weekend, her daughter was talking with her. She again said she wanted to go into assisted living. In fact she had two places in mind. The daughter called the brother, P, who in turn called my husband. Now they are all about trying to get the parents into assisted living. Well, well!
The BIG hitch here is a small poodle who is, as they brag, 17 years old. The poor thing has had dialysis, and he recently had a stroke. My personal opinion is that is no longer a dog. Somehow the vet removed the dog body and put a robot in place and covered it with the fur. The poor thing has seizures when it wakes. Anyway, there is no place that will take them and the dog. I'm sure that my husband will have to make the trip back to Hometown with gas at $3 per gallon to waste his time! They aren't going anywhere.
After the reunion this past weekend, her daughter was talking with her. She again said she wanted to go into assisted living. In fact she had two places in mind. The daughter called the brother, P, who in turn called my husband. Now they are all about trying to get the parents into assisted living. Well, well!
The BIG hitch here is a small poodle who is, as they brag, 17 years old. The poor thing has had dialysis, and he recently had a stroke. My personal opinion is that is no longer a dog. Somehow the vet removed the dog body and put a robot in place and covered it with the fur. The poor thing has seizures when it wakes. Anyway, there is no place that will take them and the dog. I'm sure that my husband will have to make the trip back to Hometown with gas at $3 per gallon to waste his time! They aren't going anywhere.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Family reunion
Now those are two words that can bring fear to one's heart - especially if it is not your blood family! In my husband's families, there are family reunions. When we were first married, I didn't dread them, but I would sit and smile and look for my brother in law and his wife so there would be someone I really knew. Now, after 38 years, I actually enjoy going, and, miracles of miracles, have finally learned the cousins! Of course the cousins have had children who have grown up, and I don't know those people!
Saturday we went to his father's family reunion. I really worried about this one however. It was going to be in a hotel conference room. Now one thing this family CAN do is eat. There were no facilities in this conference room. There was no frig, stove, sink. Even when I walked in, table space was sparse. There was not room for the dishes of food. When it was time to sit and eat, space was at a premium. But that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. This is a close family. There is a lot of love there. Being this confined actually made things even better. The comment constantly being made was what fun we had at this reunion. It really was great.
We took advantage of being back in Hometown. We went to "Cathedral of the Southwest" where I had been baptized and confirmed. I felt the people who were in the narthex sensing fresh blood, so I immediately said "I was a member here 50 years ago and wanted to come back to visit since we were in town." That sort of stilled the waters some. I got to the door of the sanctuary and gave the greeter the same excuse. She asked what my name had been. When I told her, she said her name had been such and such. We had been through junior and senior high together, and been confirmed together. That was such a sweet surprise!
That evening we spent with my remaining cousin with whom I am close. He is in his late 70's. He lost his wife of almost 60 years a few months ago, and I was concerned about him. While being depressed still (but fortunately on medication for it), he is doing great. The house looks so much better. It is neater, but his wife had severe arthritis and moving was hard for her. He is doing a lot of remodeling. He is really doing great.
All in all, it was a great weekend with family for me. I did turn down a party with K's in-laws. I just wasn't in the mood for that!
Saturday we went to his father's family reunion. I really worried about this one however. It was going to be in a hotel conference room. Now one thing this family CAN do is eat. There were no facilities in this conference room. There was no frig, stove, sink. Even when I walked in, table space was sparse. There was not room for the dishes of food. When it was time to sit and eat, space was at a premium. But that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. This is a close family. There is a lot of love there. Being this confined actually made things even better. The comment constantly being made was what fun we had at this reunion. It really was great.
We took advantage of being back in Hometown. We went to "Cathedral of the Southwest" where I had been baptized and confirmed. I felt the people who were in the narthex sensing fresh blood, so I immediately said "I was a member here 50 years ago and wanted to come back to visit since we were in town." That sort of stilled the waters some. I got to the door of the sanctuary and gave the greeter the same excuse. She asked what my name had been. When I told her, she said her name had been such and such. We had been through junior and senior high together, and been confirmed together. That was such a sweet surprise!
That evening we spent with my remaining cousin with whom I am close. He is in his late 70's. He lost his wife of almost 60 years a few months ago, and I was concerned about him. While being depressed still (but fortunately on medication for it), he is doing great. The house looks so much better. It is neater, but his wife had severe arthritis and moving was hard for her. He is doing a lot of remodeling. He is really doing great.
All in all, it was a great weekend with family for me. I did turn down a party with K's in-laws. I just wasn't in the mood for that!
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Terrible daughter
That's how I'm feeling right now. I am not really completely satisfied with the Alzheimer's facility my dad is in. I toured a new, beautiful facility today. The problem is it's $650 more than we are paying now. They have a great staff to resident ratio. I know they would try to keep him busy, but I don't think even one on one would do it. There are times I can't keep him awake.
I really don't know what is cognitative factor is right now. Sometimes he just looks at you when you expect him to respond. When the aides come to take him to the restroom (read change diaper), he just looks blankly at you. If the other facility had been around two years ago, the decision would have been easy. I would pay the extra money. Now I just don't see changing.
I can also tell myself the change itself would be hard. And I really think it would. $650 is nothing to sneeze at. He is safe where he is. He is treated well. I think this is the right decision.
I really don't know what is cognitative factor is right now. Sometimes he just looks at you when you expect him to respond. When the aides come to take him to the restroom (read change diaper), he just looks blankly at you. If the other facility had been around two years ago, the decision would have been easy. I would pay the extra money. Now I just don't see changing.
I can also tell myself the change itself would be hard. And I really think it would. $650 is nothing to sneeze at. He is safe where he is. He is treated well. I think this is the right decision.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Times have changed!
Times have changed - and this time for the better. When my kids were growing up, day care was a necessary evil. I always had the perception that I was a bad mother because I wasn't home with my kids. I guess that is the main reason I kept teaching. I would be home when they were home.
Both of the grandchildren are now in day care. Of course there are day cares and then there are day cares. They are in an excellent day care. The quality of the "school" has everything to do with the director. This one has my daughter-in-law's mother, and she runs a tight ship.
Lady Bug just blossomed when she left my care and went into day care. She was about 22 months old. She mastered all kinds of skills. She can do so many things now. She is about ready to read, and she is not 5 yet. She had K call me last night so she could tell me she learned to tie her shoes. Day care has been a real boon for her.
Both of the grandchildren are now in day care. Of course there are day cares and then there are day cares. They are in an excellent day care. The quality of the "school" has everything to do with the director. This one has my daughter-in-law's mother, and she runs a tight ship.
Lady Bug just blossomed when she left my care and went into day care. She was about 22 months old. She mastered all kinds of skills. She can do so many things now. She is about ready to read, and she is not 5 yet. She had K call me last night so she could tell me she learned to tie her shoes. Day care has been a real boon for her.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Now how much more?
Dad is living in a memory support unit at an assisted living center. The center has been bought out, and they put on a brunch to introduce us to one of the vice presidents today. He really got an ear full from the families of the MSU people. The woman sitting next to me was going to complain about the increases we get every year in rent, but didn't. I wish she would have. There were complaints however! Most of them were how the laundry never got to the right patient. We have all had things lost. My dad has lost glasses, an electric shaver, his wedding ring, shoes, clothes, and bedding. I hope things get better there. I really don't want to move him. At the rate increases are going, I may have to move him into a semi-private room though.
My dad was such a vibrant and interesting man. He built one house completely, added on to another. And finished out a third. He could work on cars - before the computer. When he was in his eighties, he decided he wanted to learn to play music. He paid for over 10 years of lessons for me. So he bought an electronic organ and took lessons. He was actually pretty good until the dementia. I could tell his playing was so much worse. What was even worst for me was to see him sit there crying. That's what this disease has done the most - he cannot sort out his emotions. Sad.
My dad was such a vibrant and interesting man. He built one house completely, added on to another. And finished out a third. He could work on cars - before the computer. When he was in his eighties, he decided he wanted to learn to play music. He paid for over 10 years of lessons for me. So he bought an electronic organ and took lessons. He was actually pretty good until the dementia. I could tell his playing was so much worse. What was even worst for me was to see him sit there crying. That's what this disease has done the most - he cannot sort out his emotions. Sad.
Friday, September 30, 2005
September's over
And I am grateful. The unrelenting heat of the past few days has been terrible. I sit here in air conditioned comfort while I think of our neighbors to the east and north east. These folks have been without electricity since last Saturday. No electricity also means the gas pumps at the stations don't work. I see reports of people who spend their days and nights outside because the house is simply too hot. I see their children who are covered with mosquito bites, and I worry about their health. I know how many mosquitoes can live in the Piney Woods of Texas. I can only hope and pray that the lights come on soon for them.
Then I see the occupants of the apartment complex on the northeast side of Houston who returned to their homes only to find they had been robbed. To add insult to injury, the thieves cooked themselves a meal before cleaning out the pantry. These folks used any extra money trying to evacuate from a cat 5 storm - or so we kept being told. They don't have extra money to replace all these things.
In the editorials (which I don't normally read), there was criticism of those who did not live in evacuation areas trying to get away from the hurricane. Well duh! If our FEMA guy here is getting his family out by the Wednesday morning before the expected land fall, and the county judge gets his family to Austin, the rest of us should stay to "hide from the wind." That became the motto by our great leaders when it was obvious that an area of roughly 5 million folks couldn't all fit onto 4 main highways. Our homes are not built to withstand winds like that. I'm not sure had Rita come this way all of us would have been able to "hide from the wind" in cat 5 force winds. I believe our homes would have become our tombs. I fully understand getting away from the storm surge areas, but come on, I personally don't like the prospect of my roof coming down on my head.
All this makes me think about the possibility of a terrorist attack. We do have a few refineries here. We do have a major port in the ship channel. We are a pretty ripe target. Now Ellington Field will be shut down so there will be no flights over the gulf and areas as before. The future is rather scary. I sincerely hope the local and state (and national for that matter) officials really begin to look at how we are going to escape from our cities. All of the large cities are in great peril, and I believe this could have a domino effect on smaller cities. Austin, San Antonio, Bryan-College Station all have been impacted by Rita. It all may happen again, and there has to be some sort of plan in place. We are not safe. That's not comforting.
Then I see the occupants of the apartment complex on the northeast side of Houston who returned to their homes only to find they had been robbed. To add insult to injury, the thieves cooked themselves a meal before cleaning out the pantry. These folks used any extra money trying to evacuate from a cat 5 storm - or so we kept being told. They don't have extra money to replace all these things.
In the editorials (which I don't normally read), there was criticism of those who did not live in evacuation areas trying to get away from the hurricane. Well duh! If our FEMA guy here is getting his family out by the Wednesday morning before the expected land fall, and the county judge gets his family to Austin, the rest of us should stay to "hide from the wind." That became the motto by our great leaders when it was obvious that an area of roughly 5 million folks couldn't all fit onto 4 main highways. Our homes are not built to withstand winds like that. I'm not sure had Rita come this way all of us would have been able to "hide from the wind" in cat 5 force winds. I believe our homes would have become our tombs. I fully understand getting away from the storm surge areas, but come on, I personally don't like the prospect of my roof coming down on my head.
All this makes me think about the possibility of a terrorist attack. We do have a few refineries here. We do have a major port in the ship channel. We are a pretty ripe target. Now Ellington Field will be shut down so there will be no flights over the gulf and areas as before. The future is rather scary. I sincerely hope the local and state (and national for that matter) officials really begin to look at how we are going to escape from our cities. All of the large cities are in great peril, and I believe this could have a domino effect on smaller cities. Austin, San Antonio, Bryan-College Station all have been impacted by Rita. It all may happen again, and there has to be some sort of plan in place. We are not safe. That's not comforting.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Life is funny
Things that happen in life really get me to thinking. The irony of our lives is sometimes just too much to take in. K will be going to St Louis is November. The same days S is also going out of town for business. So who keeps the kids? The first thought was family. Now if they move, and the same thing happens, who keeps the kids?
Of course, they could end up back in Home Town. The irony there just slaps me in the face. S's family lives there. So what's the problem then? Well as a family they are a train wreck. They are so disfunctional that it is ridiculous. I should not judge them harshly, but they are just flat out trashy people. They want a free ride. I hate the thought they would have a great influence on my grandchildren. S is the only one of the 4 that has turned out to be a good, hardworking, devoted father.
This got me to think about their wedding day. K wanted to be married in our church, by the only pastor she remembers. S's parents wanted to have the wedding in Home Town with the reception being a "bar-b-que in the backyard." Of course, I'm sure we would be expected to provide the food. After all, they had no money. They had and still have the impression we are wealthy. Come on, I'm a retired Texas teacher. After my deductions (the largest being health care) I probably make less than they do on their welfare.
The day of the rehearsal only baby brother was here. He and S got into a huge argument. Baby Brother called his dad. He called S telling him that he was not part of the family any more. Nice touch. We worked hard to get S's daughter to become best friends with my niece and Maid of Honor, E. Otherwise she would have not cooperated as flower girl. She was a terribly spoiled 4 year old - thanks to S's parents. The day of the wedding, we were not sure the other parents would even show up. They arrived about 30 minutes before the ceremony.
At the reception, things got worse. They kept trying to get M to them. They said they would take her to McDonalds. Can you imagine? She was too close to E by that time, so Pops (yep that's what the kids call him) decided that he would fake a possible heart attack so they could leave - in the limelight.
I don't think K has really thought out everything involved with moving away from here. All I can do is sit on the sidelines and hope.
Of course, they could end up back in Home Town. The irony there just slaps me in the face. S's family lives there. So what's the problem then? Well as a family they are a train wreck. They are so disfunctional that it is ridiculous. I should not judge them harshly, but they are just flat out trashy people. They want a free ride. I hate the thought they would have a great influence on my grandchildren. S is the only one of the 4 that has turned out to be a good, hardworking, devoted father.
This got me to think about their wedding day. K wanted to be married in our church, by the only pastor she remembers. S's parents wanted to have the wedding in Home Town with the reception being a "bar-b-que in the backyard." Of course, I'm sure we would be expected to provide the food. After all, they had no money. They had and still have the impression we are wealthy. Come on, I'm a retired Texas teacher. After my deductions (the largest being health care) I probably make less than they do on their welfare.
The day of the rehearsal only baby brother was here. He and S got into a huge argument. Baby Brother called his dad. He called S telling him that he was not part of the family any more. Nice touch. We worked hard to get S's daughter to become best friends with my niece and Maid of Honor, E. Otherwise she would have not cooperated as flower girl. She was a terribly spoiled 4 year old - thanks to S's parents. The day of the wedding, we were not sure the other parents would even show up. They arrived about 30 minutes before the ceremony.
At the reception, things got worse. They kept trying to get M to them. They said they would take her to McDonalds. Can you imagine? She was too close to E by that time, so Pops (yep that's what the kids call him) decided that he would fake a possible heart attack so they could leave - in the limelight.
I don't think K has really thought out everything involved with moving away from here. All I can do is sit on the sidelines and hope.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Raw Emotion
I just got off the phone with my daughter. To some people, this would not be such sad news, but it is to me. In order to be promoted, she will have to relocate. These words send me into a very deep depression. Not only will she be gone to another area, so will my precious grandchildren.
When K was growing up, I practiced the "I'm not your friend - I am your mother" style of parenting. I tried my best to have a good relationship with my children, but there was always "the line." My mother was a very mercurial person. I never knew which way the wind was going to blow. I was also an only child. That gave her too much time to notice me. She would say hurtful things; she would unfavorably compare me to others. She is probably the reason I am the way I am as I illustrated in the last post.
K is a grown woman now, and we are friends. We are close friends. In addition, we are business partners. We so many things together. Weekends we are with her family. I can be with my grandchildren. Our relationship is very close. If she leaves, there will be a huge gap in my life.
I was not able to count on family for back up when my kids were little. They were (at the time of lower speed limits) four hours away. If one of the kids were sick, one of us would have to stay home. If there was a scheduling problem that was just too bad. There was no one else to pick them up. These are things I have been able to do for her, and I have been thrilled to do them.
The old adage is so true.
A daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life.
A son is a son until he takes a wife
My son still comes by some. Well, for now that is not an option. He has his cats here. But since he married, his relationship with us is very different. We just don't see them very often. Even when they have children, my relationship will probably be different. His wife, C, is just different. Our relationship is different. I was in the delivery room with K. While I don't certainly expect this, I'm not sure C even wants us in the hospital.
I guess this is the time to simply enjoy the time we have. I shouldn't be "borrowing trouble." I just don't want to think about the possible outcome.
When K was growing up, I practiced the "I'm not your friend - I am your mother" style of parenting. I tried my best to have a good relationship with my children, but there was always "the line." My mother was a very mercurial person. I never knew which way the wind was going to blow. I was also an only child. That gave her too much time to notice me. She would say hurtful things; she would unfavorably compare me to others. She is probably the reason I am the way I am as I illustrated in the last post.
K is a grown woman now, and we are friends. We are close friends. In addition, we are business partners. We so many things together. Weekends we are with her family. I can be with my grandchildren. Our relationship is very close. If she leaves, there will be a huge gap in my life.
I was not able to count on family for back up when my kids were little. They were (at the time of lower speed limits) four hours away. If one of the kids were sick, one of us would have to stay home. If there was a scheduling problem that was just too bad. There was no one else to pick them up. These are things I have been able to do for her, and I have been thrilled to do them.
The old adage is so true.
A daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life.
A son is a son until he takes a wife
My son still comes by some. Well, for now that is not an option. He has his cats here. But since he married, his relationship with us is very different. We just don't see them very often. Even when they have children, my relationship will probably be different. His wife, C, is just different. Our relationship is different. I was in the delivery room with K. While I don't certainly expect this, I'm not sure C even wants us in the hospital.
I guess this is the time to simply enjoy the time we have. I shouldn't be "borrowing trouble." I just don't want to think about the possible outcome.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Shyness causes problems
I am basically a very shy person. The problem with being shy is that all too often you are deemed "aloof." That most certainly is not me. When you total it up, I probably would be on the far spectrum of aloof. I don;t have a very high sense of self esteem. When I get to know someone, I am completely different. To strangers, I am not outgoing at all. I am reticent and almost withdrawn. When I know you, I am very outgoing.
I mention this because I suppose that is the reason I have not posted much about me. My profile is basically nill. I have not said where I live or anything more personal about me than the posts I have done. It's just that I don't know you. I guess when some others get "hate mail" and the like I think that if you don't know much about me that will protect me.
Well, that is going to begin to change, especially after this Rita thing. I live outside of Houston, Texas. You know, that small town near the gulf coast. I'm sure you've heard of us somewhere. This Rita thing has really gotten me thinking. I would like to share some thoughts.
We always said that if we were threatened by a category 4 storm or above, we would evacuate. That was our stand. When it seemed that was the fact, we couldn't. There was no way to get out of our place. We live along the Highway 290. Since my husband and kids had at one time been members of the local volunteer fire department, we still have a scanner we bought when they were in service, I listened to the calls for help from the local EMS. I listened to all the ambulances being called for. People were having heat emergencies. One elderly woman died. There was absolute gridlock on the highway. We were stuck right here. Even if we wanted to leave, it was not practical.
My daughter and I made the decision that we shouldn't add to the congestion. There were people trying to get away from the storm surge. We would have wind and rain. Perhaps I would be flooded in because the bayou backs up all around us, and we get cut off. We were not ever faced with a 20 foot surge of water. Plus, we didn't want a 4 year old and a 14 month old to face the hours on the road. I cannot tell you how my heart broke for all those people who were stranded on the roadways. They ran out of water; ice was not available for the food they brought, and gasoline had been depleted a day and a half before.
The media sources made this situation sound like it was just a minor inconvenience, and that it really just turned into an unplanned picnic. It was not like that at all. There were fights. There were assaults. There was probably much shoplifting from the stores that stayed open, and if they had not stayed open there would have been attempted looting. The police were there. All this still happened. This situation didn't make for a people who were kind and gentle to one another. Around one convenience store, the smell of urine and feces was overpowering. The litter was mnd boggling. It looked like a garbage truck exploded. And many lost their cars. They simply broke down from overheating.
And it will happen again. There will be more storms. There could be terrorist attacks. The gridlock will happen again. The results will be the same. We were so extremely lucky this time. Now we are poised for 2.5 million to return. Does the state really believe these people will follow the plan to come back? Obviously the evacuation plan - what ever that was - didn't work. Can we expect these people to remain in hotels for two more days? They probably can't afford that. They are going to be flocking back - today.
So I have shared a little more with you about me. It's still more about what's going on around me, but I think we still may become friends, and you will know much more about me. We will have a good time.
I mention this because I suppose that is the reason I have not posted much about me. My profile is basically nill. I have not said where I live or anything more personal about me than the posts I have done. It's just that I don't know you. I guess when some others get "hate mail" and the like I think that if you don't know much about me that will protect me.
Well, that is going to begin to change, especially after this Rita thing. I live outside of Houston, Texas. You know, that small town near the gulf coast. I'm sure you've heard of us somewhere. This Rita thing has really gotten me thinking. I would like to share some thoughts.
We always said that if we were threatened by a category 4 storm or above, we would evacuate. That was our stand. When it seemed that was the fact, we couldn't. There was no way to get out of our place. We live along the Highway 290. Since my husband and kids had at one time been members of the local volunteer fire department, we still have a scanner we bought when they were in service, I listened to the calls for help from the local EMS. I listened to all the ambulances being called for. People were having heat emergencies. One elderly woman died. There was absolute gridlock on the highway. We were stuck right here. Even if we wanted to leave, it was not practical.
My daughter and I made the decision that we shouldn't add to the congestion. There were people trying to get away from the storm surge. We would have wind and rain. Perhaps I would be flooded in because the bayou backs up all around us, and we get cut off. We were not ever faced with a 20 foot surge of water. Plus, we didn't want a 4 year old and a 14 month old to face the hours on the road. I cannot tell you how my heart broke for all those people who were stranded on the roadways. They ran out of water; ice was not available for the food they brought, and gasoline had been depleted a day and a half before.
The media sources made this situation sound like it was just a minor inconvenience, and that it really just turned into an unplanned picnic. It was not like that at all. There were fights. There were assaults. There was probably much shoplifting from the stores that stayed open, and if they had not stayed open there would have been attempted looting. The police were there. All this still happened. This situation didn't make for a people who were kind and gentle to one another. Around one convenience store, the smell of urine and feces was overpowering. The litter was mnd boggling. It looked like a garbage truck exploded. And many lost their cars. They simply broke down from overheating.
And it will happen again. There will be more storms. There could be terrorist attacks. The gridlock will happen again. The results will be the same. We were so extremely lucky this time. Now we are poised for 2.5 million to return. Does the state really believe these people will follow the plan to come back? Obviously the evacuation plan - what ever that was - didn't work. Can we expect these people to remain in hotels for two more days? They probably can't afford that. They are going to be flocking back - today.
So I have shared a little more with you about me. It's still more about what's going on around me, but I think we still may become friends, and you will know much more about me. We will have a good time.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Interesting
It is very interesting that most people blogging are so young. I guess many of us older types are just behind the times. I know a lot of older folks that would be very interesting if they would blog their thoughts. Time has a way of teaching you things. Some of us have logged a few years on this old rock.
On the other hand, there are a lot of older folks that are quite simple put foolish. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we would be guaranteed to become wise sages as the years pile up. Wouldn't it be wonderful to actually learn from our mistakes instead of being so bull headed that we continue to repeat the same stupid stuff? Wouldn't it be really wonderful!
On the other hand, there are a lot of older folks that are quite simple put foolish. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we would be guaranteed to become wise sages as the years pile up. Wouldn't it be wonderful to actually learn from our mistakes instead of being so bull headed that we continue to repeat the same stupid stuff? Wouldn't it be really wonderful!
Friday, September 16, 2005
Sasha
I am an animal lover. I have always had animals. We lost out last pet in July, but I still have animals. I am fostering my son's two cats, Sasha and Sebastian. He cannot have them where he is currently living.
Sebastian is a beautiful black long hair. He is so terribly shy that when anyone comes into the house, he disappears. He really must know you to stay around. It is sad that when B comes to take care of them (that was the deal; - we just house them) Sebastian doesn't know him and hides. He is a sweet cat who causes no problems, unless you consider he "fights the outside cats" through the windows. That is hard on the blinds!
Sasha on the other hand is a difficult cat. She is small and agile. She is over 5, but thinks she is still a kitten. She even looks like a teenaged cat. The biggest problem with her is that she loves to help items, especially glass, commit suicide. She will tease and tease the item until it falls off of the bar, table, mantle, whatever.
She almost has me trained. I try to be very careful what I leave around. This morning when I walked from the den to the breakfast room, barefooted, I stepped on glass. I couldn't remember what I had left out. As I investigated further, I found that she had really worked hard to knock a baby food jar with a little diluted glue that I was using to line a cigar box purse onto the floor. All in all, there really was no damage, but she can be so infuriating.
The answer? Well, I guess I could force B to remove her. But that would probably mean she would have to go to a shelter for adoption. That is really not an option. It's not her fault she is here. It's not really B's fault that he cannot have her right now. Things in his life have changed since he rescued her from his apartment's parking lot. I guess the only answer is to do what you so with an infant - just cat proof! So that's what I'll try to remember, and we will live somewhat harmoniously.
Sebastian is a beautiful black long hair. He is so terribly shy that when anyone comes into the house, he disappears. He really must know you to stay around. It is sad that when B comes to take care of them (that was the deal; - we just house them) Sebastian doesn't know him and hides. He is a sweet cat who causes no problems, unless you consider he "fights the outside cats" through the windows. That is hard on the blinds!
Sasha on the other hand is a difficult cat. She is small and agile. She is over 5, but thinks she is still a kitten. She even looks like a teenaged cat. The biggest problem with her is that she loves to help items, especially glass, commit suicide. She will tease and tease the item until it falls off of the bar, table, mantle, whatever.
She almost has me trained. I try to be very careful what I leave around. This morning when I walked from the den to the breakfast room, barefooted, I stepped on glass. I couldn't remember what I had left out. As I investigated further, I found that she had really worked hard to knock a baby food jar with a little diluted glue that I was using to line a cigar box purse onto the floor. All in all, there really was no damage, but she can be so infuriating.
The answer? Well, I guess I could force B to remove her. But that would probably mean she would have to go to a shelter for adoption. That is really not an option. It's not her fault she is here. It's not really B's fault that he cannot have her right now. Things in his life have changed since he rescued her from his apartment's parking lot. I guess the only answer is to do what you so with an infant - just cat proof! So that's what I'll try to remember, and we will live somewhat harmoniously.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Teenagers
You would think after teaching them for 29 years, all the psychology classes I sat through with them, and raising two of them into adulthood I would understand this teen. She is my barely 13 year old step granddaughter, and I can't figure her out.
She came to live with K and S June 2004, and this year she made the decision to remain here. She doesn't want to go back to her mother at all. I'll be the first to admit her like there was not good, but I wonder exactly how much she brought on herself.
When she got here, she was very rude and mean to Lady Bug. Sibling rivalry at its worst. That has gotten a little better, though not much in reality. I don't understand it because she has four siblings at her mother's house. That, in itself, makes her very needy, but she can't get over the desire to be the center of everything.
I guess her neediness is why she is constantly testing limits. Children do like and need limits, and they will test them. It gives them a sense of security. They know they are loved. Back in the late seventies, I had tried my luck at real estate. WRONG timing. I ended up being the "educational therapist" at an inpatient psychiatric hospital. I saw those kids needing structure. They had none in their homes. Most of the homes were non-nuclear. Because of this, most of the kids were in charge, and they felt like there was no one there for them. They acted out, and behavior management allowed for no variation. Break the rule - suffer the consequence.
My step granddaughter, M, tests the SAME rules over and over. The outcome is the same, but she goes back and repeats the same behavior. If she is expecting different results, this is the "definition" of crazy. There are rules about makeup, clothes, grades, computer, and phone. She tests them at every turn. She gets grounded, she gets corrected, but turns around and does the same thing.
She has been in therapy, and will continue. It really doesn't seem to do much good though. I hope something works soon. She needs it to happen. I worry about her future. I also worry about the other two children.
She came to live with K and S June 2004, and this year she made the decision to remain here. She doesn't want to go back to her mother at all. I'll be the first to admit her like there was not good, but I wonder exactly how much she brought on herself.
When she got here, she was very rude and mean to Lady Bug. Sibling rivalry at its worst. That has gotten a little better, though not much in reality. I don't understand it because she has four siblings at her mother's house. That, in itself, makes her very needy, but she can't get over the desire to be the center of everything.
I guess her neediness is why she is constantly testing limits. Children do like and need limits, and they will test them. It gives them a sense of security. They know they are loved. Back in the late seventies, I had tried my luck at real estate. WRONG timing. I ended up being the "educational therapist" at an inpatient psychiatric hospital. I saw those kids needing structure. They had none in their homes. Most of the homes were non-nuclear. Because of this, most of the kids were in charge, and they felt like there was no one there for them. They acted out, and behavior management allowed for no variation. Break the rule - suffer the consequence.
My step granddaughter, M, tests the SAME rules over and over. The outcome is the same, but she goes back and repeats the same behavior. If she is expecting different results, this is the "definition" of crazy. There are rules about makeup, clothes, grades, computer, and phone. She tests them at every turn. She gets grounded, she gets corrected, but turns around and does the same thing.
She has been in therapy, and will continue. It really doesn't seem to do much good though. I hope something works soon. She needs it to happen. I worry about her future. I also worry about the other two children.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Anniversary
We are coming up on an anniversary, but not a joyful one. It is one followed by sadness, but there is a little joy left. Bittersweet. It is the anniversary of the wonderful news that both my daughter and daughter-in-law were pregnant due due in July. The images we conjured in our minds were vivid. There would be cousins living close together and being so close in age. What fun they would have together. All of this and in the extended family my niece was due in January, wouldn't that make for fabulous family Christmas times?
Having cousins close in age is not new for this family. My sister-in-law had my niece in September and my daughter was born in December. Our sons were due about the same day, but my son, B, was impatient, couldn't wait. He was a week early. Hers, being her usual luck, was late. So we are familiar with close in age cousins, but we live in different cities.
One of these pregnancies was successful, but the other ended very early. Even at that early gestational age I mourned for the little one we would never know all the while rejoicing for the one would be coming. It was a very hard time. I think my daughter-in-law, C, suffered more than we knew. Outwardly, she seemed to go on and accept it. Deep down I think she resented K's successful pregnancy. I can't blame her. It had to be very painful.
When I was alone with B, I told him his cousin had the same thing happen to her. K was about to deliver Lady Bug when we were at her house for the family Christmas. K was as big as a house, and E seemed to be cheerful about everything. I later learned she had just miscarried. I would only imagine how devastating that Christmas was for her. I believe B related this to C, and I think it helped.
All this happened a couple of years ago. B and C are going to try again. I pray they will be successful. All the women in her family has fertility problems. Only time will tell.
Having cousins close in age is not new for this family. My sister-in-law had my niece in September and my daughter was born in December. Our sons were due about the same day, but my son, B, was impatient, couldn't wait. He was a week early. Hers, being her usual luck, was late. So we are familiar with close in age cousins, but we live in different cities.
One of these pregnancies was successful, but the other ended very early. Even at that early gestational age I mourned for the little one we would never know all the while rejoicing for the one would be coming. It was a very hard time. I think my daughter-in-law, C, suffered more than we knew. Outwardly, she seemed to go on and accept it. Deep down I think she resented K's successful pregnancy. I can't blame her. It had to be very painful.
When I was alone with B, I told him his cousin had the same thing happen to her. K was about to deliver Lady Bug when we were at her house for the family Christmas. K was as big as a house, and E seemed to be cheerful about everything. I later learned she had just miscarried. I would only imagine how devastating that Christmas was for her. I believe B related this to C, and I think it helped.
All this happened a couple of years ago. B and C are going to try again. I pray they will be successful. All the women in her family has fertility problems. Only time will tell.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Visiting Day
Any day we visit Dad is a difficult thing. I WISH I could say that I go with a happy heart, and return with joy, but that it the direct opposite. The trip depresses me so much that I am a coward and make someone go with me. My poor daughter is usually the one who is elected.
Seeing my father is the worse part of the experience because he is no longer the man I remember as my father. This horrible disease has turned him into a person who is incontinent and drools constantly. He cannot form phrases because the words escape him. He will parrot, but that's about it. It helps to have someone with me because then he can sit and listen.
The other part of the trip that is so terrible is watching the others. We have been there so long. I have watched them deteriorate, die or simply disappear. There are still two who have been there longer than my dad. They are both women. One was becoming violent, but you can tell she has been medicated.
Looking around the unit, it would seem that many of these souls could continue much longer, but they do. They languish daily. Some are in wheel chairs; some just slump in chairs. There are the few that just wander, and then there are those who "talk" to you making no sense at all.
R is one of those people. She was there when my dad and step mother got there. Her husband was in the assisted living section and R was in the Memory Support Unit (locked unit). I didn't know that at the beginning. When I would arrive, R and her husband would be in the rocking chairs out on the front porch or just in the lounge area. They were such a smart looking couple. They were meticulously groomed.
Suddenly, I noted that R was in MSU and her husband was no where around. I met her son in a family support group where he explained that his father had a stroke before coming to the center. He was left without the ability to speak. Since she had dementia, they had to be moved. He died sometime after V. I haven't seen her son in quite sometime.
R would slouch in chairs, moaning and crying. She was no longer groomed. At one point I really believed she would die soon. She had a wound on her leg that would not heal, and she developed a serious edema in that leg. That wound healed, but R continued to mentally deteriorate. Once she did come out of her dementia when she focused on my grandson.
Funny how little children bring the patients about sometime. If it can bring them back to the "surface" of their memories, they want to talk to the children. They seem to return to the better times, even if it's only for a few minutes. Then they slip back into the void.
The real point of this post is that someone in the unit died. The staff is pretty closed mouth about it. I don't know if it was R or J. I haven't seen either of them for two weeks. I'll have to walk close to the rooms to check names. Death in that place is really not sad. These folks have already "died;" their bodies just don't know it yet.
Seeing my father is the worse part of the experience because he is no longer the man I remember as my father. This horrible disease has turned him into a person who is incontinent and drools constantly. He cannot form phrases because the words escape him. He will parrot, but that's about it. It helps to have someone with me because then he can sit and listen.
The other part of the trip that is so terrible is watching the others. We have been there so long. I have watched them deteriorate, die or simply disappear. There are still two who have been there longer than my dad. They are both women. One was becoming violent, but you can tell she has been medicated.
Looking around the unit, it would seem that many of these souls could continue much longer, but they do. They languish daily. Some are in wheel chairs; some just slump in chairs. There are the few that just wander, and then there are those who "talk" to you making no sense at all.
R is one of those people. She was there when my dad and step mother got there. Her husband was in the assisted living section and R was in the Memory Support Unit (locked unit). I didn't know that at the beginning. When I would arrive, R and her husband would be in the rocking chairs out on the front porch or just in the lounge area. They were such a smart looking couple. They were meticulously groomed.
Suddenly, I noted that R was in MSU and her husband was no where around. I met her son in a family support group where he explained that his father had a stroke before coming to the center. He was left without the ability to speak. Since she had dementia, they had to be moved. He died sometime after V. I haven't seen her son in quite sometime.
R would slouch in chairs, moaning and crying. She was no longer groomed. At one point I really believed she would die soon. She had a wound on her leg that would not heal, and she developed a serious edema in that leg. That wound healed, but R continued to mentally deteriorate. Once she did come out of her dementia when she focused on my grandson.
Funny how little children bring the patients about sometime. If it can bring them back to the "surface" of their memories, they want to talk to the children. They seem to return to the better times, even if it's only for a few minutes. Then they slip back into the void.
The real point of this post is that someone in the unit died. The staff is pretty closed mouth about it. I don't know if it was R or J. I haven't seen either of them for two weeks. I'll have to walk close to the rooms to check names. Death in that place is really not sad. These folks have already "died;" their bodies just don't know it yet.
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