Whooo, doggies…

Sunday I spent the day doing yard work. 

It was about time, as I’d let things pile up, weeds were starting to seed out, the hedges were towering WAY over my head, and my lawn was finally starting to green up & grow, since we’d gotten a little bit of rain.

So, I plugged my ear buds in, pulled on my garden gloves, & got to work.

After mowing the front lawn, & a little of the back (my battery-powered mower’s battery gave out), I plugged the battery into the charger, hoisted my hedge trimmer, & decided to tackle the beast-mode hedges, starting from the back end near OnlySon’s bedroom.

Well…until the hornets decided they didn’t want me messing with their nest.

$&#%@%5#6$64-&#+%(#(#+%$!#!+%-#&@

Drop the hedge trimmer in my tracks & hightail it to the house, making sure the damned hell beasts don’t follow me inside, I raced for the bathroom to ice down my wounded self with cold water.

I’ve never run so fast in my ever-lovin’ life as I did after that first sting!

Holy Mother of Gods!

Luckily, the little winged bastard only nailed me through my glove, on my knuckle, so he really didn’t get me all that bad, but Holy Cheezits, it stung like a muther.

Yeah, I stayed inside the house for a while, laugh it up, Chuckles. I watched that front screen door like the NSA, waiting for those little pricks to stop swarming my porch, knowing they were there, mocking me, jeering & marking my front door with their angry little pheromones.

Screw them.

After getting a drink of water, & wiping the fear-stink off…

I went back outside to retrieve my property.

My hedge trimmer lay there in the grass like a lost orphan…

So I gingerly tiptoed over & gently pucked that poor baby up & cradled it in my arms.

Went to the other end of the hedge & started hacking.

Damn straight.

Of course, I only got halfway down the hedge before I started seeing the hazardous, little, yellow bouncers dancing gleefully in the leaves again.

Assholes.

Ok.

So…

To the backyard.

Plenty of trimming to do back there, too.

And, as I’m happily zipping along, cutting through the Queen Anne bush next to OnlySon’s bedroom window…

ZAP! FLASH!

Aw, shit.

I sliced halfway through my old extension cord, that someone had tossed into the bush.

*many, many bad words inserted here as the outlet goes dead*

Ok…Lucky for me, I’m a well grounded kind of gal.

No electrocution.

Yay me.

And, I have a backup extension cord that reaches around to the driveway outlet, which allows me to finish up, not only trimming the wayward bushes in the backyard, but use my electric chainsaw to get through a piece of the neighbor’s hedge that has made its way through my fence & is too big for the hedge trimmer.

And what do I find while trimming? 

A rogue plum tree… With plums hanging from it.

Wtf?

We used to have a plum tree, but it died years ago, & we cut it down, to the ground. This…has to be from one of the plums that fell off at some point, or got dropped by one of the kids, or some other weird coincidence. 

Anyway… I have a plum tree? I guess?

Okey dokey…

Oh yeah, Sunday bitch-slapped me, hard. 

Yes, indeed.

But, like the badass mofo that I am, I bounced back & kept right on diggin’ til I’d had my fill.

And that was right about the time I went in the house & realized that by cutting that extension cord, I’d blown a fuse in the house, cutting power to the kitchen, the living room, and the hallway…

*sigh*

I Don’t Think That’s What They Meant

I’ve always known that reading to my kids was good for them.

Expanding their horizons, showing them different worlds, different people, cultures, ideas, crammed in the pages of a bound book.

And there are books on all sorts of topics for kids now.

Books just for the pleasure of reading an entertaining story, books for education.

There are books for potty-training, for bed-time, for learning to deal with siblings, leaning to cope with the death of a pet, learning how to be better at this or that, for learning everything from alphabets to zydeco music playing.

I know that reading – reading almost anything – broadens anyone’s mind, not just a child’s.

But – the other night, I added a twist.

OnlySon is 16.  And he and I both understand that he’s far more esoterically knowledgeable than most people think.  We talk to each other in a manner most wouldn’t expect a parent to talk to a 16 yr. old.

I talk to him more as I would another adult.  Well, at least, another adult who just so happens to be my 16 yr. old child.  There are still some subjects we both agree are not appropriate, not – ugh – comfortable for either of us.  And our agreement works.

He can handle it – and he respects me for respecting that about him.

So, the other night, I was reading a new book I’d picked up at the book store – Augusten Burrough’s “Magical Thinking”.

It’s a hilarious set of stories about things that have happened to him in his own life.  And he freely admits that he’s “emotionally damaged goods”, so, even while I can feel bad about the fucked up things he’s had to experience growing up, and since, I can laugh along with him as he laughs at himself.

I sat and chuckled, snickered, and gut-busted laughed for 2 hours straight after bringing this home and immediately sitting down to enjoy it.

Of course, OnlySon had to know what was so funny.

So – I read a chapter – out loud – to him.

All about how Augusten had found a “rat/thing” in his bathroom, and proceeded to destroy it, then to go on to practically destroy his bathroom in order to rid himself of the taint of the rat/thing’s infestation of his life.

It’s funnier in the book.

And, after hearing the story, my son proceeded to tell me about a story he’d read – about a man who’d chugged half a soda, only to find a ground up frog in the can…..

The things we do to one another for the sake of a good story. *urp*

Later than night, I was standing in the bathroom, contemplating the meaning of life (brushing my teeth, actually, but close enough), when I heard EldestDaughter downstairs.  The cadence and rhythm of her voice told me she was reading a new story to the ToddlerTornado.

And I was struck by the coincidence, and the slight difference of the subject matter we’d each chosen to read to our sons.

At least… well, leaning out of the bathroom, I was pretty sure my new book was still sitting by my chair.

I don’t think that’s what they meant when the “experts” said “Read to Your Children”.

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In the Interim

I took a pause.

Went off on a tangent.

Started another blog, dropped it, started yet another one, and dropped that one too – started a third… and a fourth… dropped the third, kept the fourth.

And I came home – here – to where my WordPress adventures all started.

There have been a lot of changes in my life… and a lot that stayed the same.

I don’t really want to rehash it here, so I’m simply having a GRAND RE-OPENING, now under old management.

Ribbon-Cutting-473

Come for the ribbon cutting… stay for the emergency alcohol preps!

Anyhoo… I’m going to be posting whenever I damn well feel like it, so hang on!

And – tomorrow?  There might even be fiction.

imagesOHEQERXI

 

 

Fiddly Little Bits

My brain’s spinning at about 98 RPM right now.

I have a list a mile long of things that still have to get done for graduation, and only a couple of them crossed off.

I lost my mind on my children last night.  There is a list of someof the things that need to be accomplished before the end of the week up near the kitchen.  Just some of the things, mind you.  And I told the children about the list, and that I needed help getting them done.

I didn’t put the list up there for my benefit.  I know what needs to be done, and have been carrying lists around with me for a couple of weeks now.

The list was for them. 

And they knew it.

Yet, last night, when I got home from work, both of my girls were sitting on their butts.  Doing nothing.

List un-accomplished. 

Un-attempted.

And I lost all the fiddly little bits of my brain that deal with stress in a calm, rational manner.

They fell right out of my ears, and smashed on the floor.

I flipped out.

Told the girls that the list I’d posted was only about half of the stuff that needed doing, and that I was tired of getting on bended knee and begging them to help me get ready for YOUNGERDAUGHTER’s graduation.  In a house that they ALL live in.  Not just me.

Told them that “Whatever doesn’t get done by Sunday, willremainundone on Sunday, and THEY can explain to guests why the floor is filthy, or there are dandelions eating their children in the front yard. 

Mom’s going to be tucked away in a corner, rocking back and forth, with a drink in one hand, and a vacant smile – humming tunelessly.

All my fiddly little bits of sanity, lying on the floor next to me.

Countdown to Blastoff

I have 1 week in which to prepare for the high school graduation of YoungerDaughter.

Gah.

My internet connection at home has been spotty – at best.  The modem is dying, and has begun its last gasps of hot, tainted air.  The cable company told me they’d be out “somewhere between 8am and 5pm”.   So… that means Tuesday, the 12th of never, right?

A couple of days ago, my youngest child, OnlySon – broke his left arm.  Both bones.

The one on the bottom, is a 50% displacement fracture (according to the orthopedic doctor).

The top one, the ulna, is a slight “greenstick” break, near his wrist.  It just shows up on the x-ray as a “fuzzy line” (official radiology terminology, I assure you.) 

This x-ray was taken after they casted his arm.  Nope, they don’t re-set the bones on kids for this type of break.  Surprised me too.  There’s a long, complicated reason, the doctor explained and assured me about.  However, if the bones shift any more within the next 3 weeks, OnlySon may have to have pins and plates surgically inserted into his arm to correct this. 

Yay.

To top it off, he has to wear his new appendage accessory for at least 6 weeks, with a possibility of a separate, shorter cast for another 3 weeks after that – depending on how it heals.

He was overjoyed at this pronouncement.

So, this means no swimming. For the whole summer.  Or at least, most of it.

The one physical activity that OnlySon really gets into, and he isn’t going to be able to even splash around in a baby pool.

Last summer, we had most of our city flooded, including the public pool.

No swimming last year.

No swimming this year.

This also happened to occur 10 days before the end of his school year.

He had to stay out for the last 2 days, due to pain, and the effects of the pain medication the doctor put him on. 

The end of this school year is looming over all of our heads like a vicious, man-eating hydra, snarling, dripping and horrible.

See, with the dripping?

And every time you take care of one problem, cut off one of the heads – 2 more sprout and take its place.

Gotta love that Greek mythology.

So, I’m making lists, checking them – not twice, I’m not Santa Claus – but constantly, throughout the day, everyday.

Planning, re-planning, re-drawing my battle plans and lists.

Counting down to blastoff.

Graduation Day.

Where the hell are my cap and gown?

I should be graduating with honors for my multitasking abilities and for keeping my sanity.

That is – if I still have it at the end of next week.

 

Z – and the End

Little Buddha, we have finally reached the end of the alphabet.

But, this does not mean that we’ve reached the end of things that your Gramma is going to teach you – not by a long shot! 

There are years and years of lessons ahead, my precious grandson, so let’s just get this part of the teaching out of the way, shall we?

Z – is for Zoo.  You’re quickly learning – our family is rather one of these.  Full of wild animals of all kinds and quirks, our family is definitely varied and can be fun. 

Just make sure you don’t stick your fingers between the bars, or attempt to feed them by hand.

You’ll lose the fingers, and possibly your sanity.

Of course, with this family – sanity is optional, so it’s not like anyone around here will notice the difference or make an issue of it!  We’re all one, big happy family of wild critters!

Z – is for Zero.  This is how many times you’ll have to wonder if Gramma loves you.

Never doubt.

Gramma loves you, and always will.

And Zero is the times you’ll ever go a day without hearing it.

And, for theGrande Finale…..

Z – is for ZOMBIES!!!

Of course it is.  Everything these days is about zombies – right?

This is the latest and strangest trend I’ve seen in a long time, Little Buddha.  People everywhere are “getting on board” and joining the “Zombie Extermination Crews”, because, supposedly, the Zombie Apocalypse is just around the corner.

There are t-shirts, posters, and even decorations (not just for bumperstickers, anymore!) for your vehicle to identify you to other Zombie-Slayers.

Weird, I know, but this is true.

We’re gonna have to get you one of these, just so you can be prepared.

 

Of course, by the time the apocalypse actually happens… you’ll be older, wiser, and probably ready to drive… so maybe we can trick out Gramma’s van like some of the other kids these days.

 

There we go.  Now we’re ready to roll, Little Buddha.

Just let Gramma get her gear.

Y is for…

Little Buddha, we are done with another week, and almost done with the alphabet.

Part of me is glad, as that means we can move on to other, more exciting possibilities…

Part of me is sad, as this means it’s almost over, and Gramma hates goodbyes, even if it’s just of the meme variety.

BUT.  Let’s kick this pony, shall we?

Y – is for Yawn.  Big and open, yawning mouths seem to abound around you when you are sleepy, Little Buddha!  There’s this thing, you see… called “Baby Coma”, which, when held, a little one will induce a strong need for sleep in the person holding on.  You are such a warm, soft, comforting little bundle while you sleep, it’s hard to put you down in your bassinet, instead of just having you curl up on someone’s chest, right over the heartbeat, and nap together…. yaaaaaawn…. sleepy now…

Y – is for Yummy!  I want you to have a wide palate of what you like to eat, Little Buddha, so we’re going to have to work on your choices of food.  There are 4 basic food groups we’ll focus on…. Salt, grease, carbonation… and chocolate.

No, seriously, I do want you to be able to eat more than just chicken nuggets and toast (don’t talk to your Uncle, OnlySon, he doesn’t know what’s good for him!).  Your Mama’s got a pretty good range of foods she likes, so she’ll help you out with the “healthy” stuff… but Gramma is going to help you pick the bestest of the bestest of the so-called junk foods.

Strawberry pastry pirate ship & chocolate treasure chest? Oh, definitely!

Hey, one person’s junk is another person’s treasure, right? 

So… as soon as you are old enough to nom down the solid stuff… we’ll get started – with strawberries and chocolate.

Hey, I know strawberries are considered healthy because they’re fruit… but we can make them so that the possible gains are outweighed by the sweetness and yumminess of the dessert!

Y – is for Young.  You are this right now, Little Buddha, and will be for some time to come.  This is ok.  You don’t have to grow up too fast.  Take it easy.

I mean it. 

The older you get, the older Gramma gets.

Stop it.

Now, come here and give Gramma a kiss and a hug.