Posts from the ‘Tales of #2’ Category

The Joys of COPD, 10 Year Old Logic and Potty Training

Life is funny.  I mean, sometimes ya just gotta laugh at it.  I’m so not up to telling the tale again but I will mention the whole job situation is different.  I should have good news to report in the next few days so for now, don’t ask me what happened.  It’s not that exciting and I’m trying to forget it and move on to the next page.

Mom didn’t have her surgery today as was scheduled because she got pretty sick with bronchitis and pneumonia last week.  She is doing better from that but still having a time getting her strength back. 

Need I say again if you smoke….quit.  Just do it and save your family and yourself lotsa trouble later on.  It just complicates everything.  Everytime Mom gets a cold, etc. she gets this horrendous bronchitis thanks to the COPD.  I don’t mind and I know my sister doesn’t mind tending to her or being there when she needs us to be.  It is hard on everybody and things all have to be shuffled around, sometimes late at night when she has a panic spell because she can’t breathe, as happened last Friday night at 9:35. 

#2 was most unhappy about having to go over to Mimi’s that late.  He griped and moaned and I gave him the Guilt Trip speech about “What would you do when you have one of your headaches (he has migraines) and me or Dad wouldn’t help you or do whatever we have to do to make you feel better?”   Eh.  Deaf ears.

Funny thing was though…Saturday afternoon, #2 got to thinking that the next day was Sunday and that might mean he may have to go unto the House of the Lord. This brought him some anxiety and he musta spent a lotta time conjuring up this suggestion he made to me…with a totally straight face..”Um, Mom….you know, Mimi might need us tomorrow so we might oughta stay home from church so we can look after her.”  I screamed laughing. Little stinker.

And here we have some moving pictures of Foster, who is getting bigger by the second.  We are seriously working on potty training (like Dr. Heather the Vet predicted, his early go-round at potty training was great but by 11-12 weeks they sometimes regress.  Foster regressed.)

We walked today out at the park in Hendersonville and I was shocked at how much trash and duck poop covers what could be a really nice park. Mayor Foster (ironic that name huh?) Hendersonville can do better than this.

Random Thursday Babbling

Howdy….

So I had a second interview today.  I want to tell something funny about it but I’m scared to.  I’ll tell it later.  Or email me or something and I’ll tell you.  HI-larious.

Lord help us all…I have discovered Carmen Electra’s Aerobic Striptease videos on OnDemand.   That is some good exercising. 

I took #2 to the Walgreen’s and bought what is probably the last Valentine cards for school that I’ll ever have to buy.  I got a little wistful but it lasted all of about 2 seconds.  I’ve been buying these things since 1997.  They don’t even have “parties” anymore. 

Speaking of #2, he is growing up on me.  I mean, he’s getting taller and just looking older.  He’s doing so well and has come such a long way.   016 He told me tonight he wants to wear “short-sleeved” pants to school tomorrow.  Cracked me up.

Not only did I turn 40 this week, but, so did Jennifer Aniston and tomorrow, my dear friend since high school days, Patrick, hits it.  Happy Birthday, MAN!  I was gonna send you a birthday card (why I asked for your address) but thus far, the card is sitting here on my desk. It’s the thought that counts.

The Facebook Obsession continues….somebody posted this photo today and it makes me laugh.

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Check out those Cymbal Playahs there….that one in the middle in the hat is especially hot.  Heh.  Just looking at that picture makes my hair automatically go into “Hat Head” mode.  Ick.

Can You Do This?

Mothers like to think they know everything about their children.  We think there is nothing about the people we give birth to, change their diapers, raise, etc.  We’re the mutha’s for heavens sake.   Mothers are all-knowing and all-seeing. 

Why is it, then, that until today, I did not know that #2 could do this:

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I did not know my kid had this talent.  I can’t do this. I’m impressed.

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You TOO can learn this tantalizing, tonguerific technique.  Maybe I should start practicing. 

One more cute one just cuz he’s cute.

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The All American Family Celebrates Christmas

Christmas morning has been good.  I was a little worried about the kids and how everything would be for them beings this is the first Christmas Post-Transition.  It has been lovely, actually.  The Three Kids spent last evening and night with me.  Their Dad came this morning to watch the Santa-Palooza and then I fixed breakfast. 

We were sitting down to eat and Tara started singing “Do You Hear What I Hear” and #2 echoed her with “Tara- would-you- shut- up?”   HAHAHAHHAHAHA

More pictures over there on the Flickr of the Smiffs putting the FUN in “DysFUNCtional Family Christmas. 

Hope that wherever you are, Christmas is lovely.

I would kinda like to be here right now.  How fun would it be to go iceskating in Central Park on Christmas Day? 

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

I Think I Have Something In My Teeth

photo-09951I think I’m going to suggest that all of my children get their Bubba on, especially if it puts them in such a jolly mood as it did #2 yesterday.

Joy

#2 is fun to watch. 

He’s fun to talk to, too.  Yesterday, during our little outing to Mount Olivet, he was impressed with the graves of the Confederate Heroes, the crypt of Adelicia Acklen (above, left) former governors, senators and an Opry star or two.  He said “Mom…I want to be famous so I can be buried here.  That’s my dream.”    (Ok?)

This morning, he was up and rarin’ to go at 6:30 a.m.  He said, randomly, “Mom!!!!  I can’t wait to get my chest hair.  Then I will be a REAL man!” 

I can wait awhile before the chest hair appears.  I’ve already got one boy that’s got it.  I know that it won’t be long before #2 will be changing…if he follows the same pattern his brother did.  Wish I could keep him this age just a little longer.

Nobody Teaches Us How To Grow Old

I was driving down Gallatin Rd. yesterday during lunchtime.  That is one busy road.  It’s not exactly the kinda road one would want to purposely go out and stroll on, although that area has a lot of residents who have to either rely on public transportation or their own two feet to get around. 

I have frequented that part of town a lot over the last 20 years.  I lived off Gallatin Rd. for 5 1/2 years.  I’ve seen all sortsa types of folks crossing that road.  I’ve seen various shapes, sizes, colors, means of crossing, including a guy in a wheelchair with no legs more than once…I’d be scared to death to try to get from the Piccadilly side of Gallatin Rd. to Jenna’s Toybox, myself.

Anyway, I was driving down the road and I saw this older lady in one of those Hoveround things.  I assume this lady is a resident of that Senior apartment complex there behind what used to be Col. Tom Parker’s office.   She was probably at least 75-80 years old.  She was fairly well dressed, had her coif nicely done (betchya she sleeps with toilet paper on her head between her Friday Hair Washin’s). 

One look at the woman you could tell her health is probably not the best it’s ever been, but, considering her age, she’s not doing too bad.  I would imagine her kids probably took her wheels away from her at some point and if she decides she wants to run over to the bank or to the Piccadilly or wherever, she has to rely on the transportation from the complex in which she lives or one of her children has to drive her around.

So, here was this lady, in her Hoverround, waiting to cross Gallatin Rd. My first thought was “What in the world is that woman doing out here on Gallatin Rd. trying to cross this ridiculously busy street in one of those things for?  What is wrong with her??” I wondered if her children and grandchildren had any clue that Maw Maw was crossing Gallatin Rd., zig-zaggin in and out of traffic.  I had a vision of my mother (who will be 74 in a couple of months) doing such a thing.  My mother will barely leave her house in her own vehicle, much less a battery operated contraption like that.

As quick as I had that thought, the thought occurred to me that Hoveround Lady musta wanted to go somewhere and she decided that she wasn’t gonna let a silly little thing like not being able to drive stop her, no sirree.  Where’s my wheels?  Brang ’em here, I want some of that Carrot Souffle’ at the Piccadilly! I was suddenly in awe and admiration of this nameless woman for having lots of cajones. 

The whole scene also made me think about the fact that the good Lawd willin’, I’m going to be that Senior-aged woman (shut up, Much Younger Friends who haven’t even crossed into 30 yet).  I’m just stubborn enough that if I want something bad enough (not Carrot Souffle’ though) I will knock you down til I get whatever it is I’m after.  I don’t like the idea of carpooling to work in a gas shortage because that messes with my independence.  I sho nuff bet at that age, I will resent having to depend on somebody to haul me around.

It’s a scary thought, Old Age.  It’s scary to me that the same turd who left a smart alecky comment on my blog post about him (I told him I would not mention him again on here since he was so offended.  I removed his second comment ‘fo most of you had the chance to see it.)…that same kid, along with the help of the Drama Queen and #2 will someday be involved in major decisions about what old age home I will live out my days in. 

I envision the Drama Queen having to take me grocery shopping, to the doctor…lordy mercy…we will be just like Eunice and Mama. 

Just in 2008 alone, I’ve gotten calls from my mother in the middle of the night, in the middle of my workday, and other times, have had to abandon what I’m doing to go across town to where she lives and deal with a situation.  Hear me, I do not mind doing these things for my mother.  Not one bit.  This is the woman who gave birth to me, wiped my rear end (nevermind that I STILL remember the time she accidentally put toothpaste on my ass instead of Desitin for diaper rash.  Yeah, I have a good memory but you’d remember that one too.  Trust me, toothpaste on yer butt-ox doesn’t get rid of cavities.)  Lord knows the sacrifices Barbara Jean has made on my behalf.  I am quite thankful that I still have her around to do for (yes, I would be even more thankfuller if’n she’d move about 20 minutes closer!).

Do you ever think about your old age?  Is there going to be money for me to live on?  Are my boys going to marry awful women like the daughters in law in Driving Miss Daisy or A Trip To Bountiful?  Will my daughters in law only allow me to hum my hymns when they aren’t around?  I kid, but, ya know…stuff like seeing the old lady in the Hoveround on Gallatin Rd. makes me think about that sorta stuff.

All my life I’ve been taught how to die, but no one ever taught me how to grow old.

BILLY GRAHAM, Newsweek, Aug. 14, 2006