Pain in the Ass #12 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

"If I could save time in a bottle...If I could make days last forever, if words could make wishes come true. I'd save everyday like a treasure and then, again,  I'd spend them with you..."

I don't know what's wrong with me as of late (other than the obvious).  I've been very emotional and missing key people in my life.  Father's Day is quickly approaching and I find myself missing my Grampa a lot.  More than usual.  It's very apparent to me that certain people will always hold a special place in our lives, and he certainly is no exception.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of him - some might call that obsessive - but quite frankly, I don't care what those people think in the first place.  He's just THAT important to me, and that will never change.

I've also found myself looking at my (ever) growing son.  I miss the little version of him.  I have so many regrets from when he was little.  His dad and I ended our marriage about 4.5 years ago and I've spent a lot of that time trying to make a life for Gabriel and I.  I feel gypped honestly.  I'm not entirely sure if that's a reasonable feeling/thought or if I'm just being over sensitive.  But to be honest, I do resent that I spent as much time as I did working, stressed and frustrated - and in doing so, I feel like he too, was robbed of something.  I'm sure most working parents feel this way, as do a lot of single parents.  It just seems that he grew up right in front of me, and I struggle to remember those chubby little hands and fingers, that little baby belly that stuck out - his cute little feet and that sweet little voice.  He's bigger now - arms and legs are longer, and less chubby.  The tummy that was round and soft, is now flat and muscle.  The voice is still 'sweet' but it too is changing, and will continue to change as he grows up - as will the rest of his body.  *sigh*

Gabriel, 2005

Maybe you're thinking that I'm putting too much thought into it, maybe I am.  But mostly, I'm assuming this is a normal way to feel.  My question is, what do I do about it??  Sometimes I feel like I need to make up for that time lost and other times, I just wonder if this may be God's way of smacking me upside the head to tell me that I need to appreciate the time now.  He is growing up so fast; becoming quite the guy.  It wont be long until he's starting high school and then after that it will be college.  I realize I can't shellac him - can't keep him little forever.  Lord knows I have a lot of pictures of him as he's grown up.  I just can't shake the feeling that I need to hold on before it all changes.

I guess for now, (until I learn how to turn back the hands of time or make days last forever) I'll learn to cherish what I do have with my wonderful guy, and take it one day at a time...I've learned that there just doesn't seem to be enough time to do what we want, and in regards to my son - there's never (going to be) enough time. Period. I don't want any more regrets.  I don't want to waste my time (or his) wishing for the ability to save time in a bottle...

Pain in the Ass #11 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

I've noticed that there is this epidemic spreading throughout Barrie (I'm sure it's everywhere, really).  It's devastating and quite frankly a tough one to beat.  It's called Rudeness.  The most common symptoms include, ignoring/staring through people as though they don't exist or not saying a simple ' thank you '. It also causes the inability to hold doors open and somehow makes people push ahead, by either butting in or actually physically shoving someone out of the way.

I'm baffled, honestly.  I was raised to use my manners and to respect my elders.  To this very day I still have great respect for my elders, unless of course they've proved unworthy of it - and even still, I wont go out of my way to be disrespectful.  I just avoid those people if I can, OR just keep my mouth shut.  Of course, that depends on the situation (for example, the old guy who parked in the "Expectant mother" parking spot when I was VERY pregnant with my son.  I unleashed some nasty pregnant woman power that day - and  needless to say, he moved his car... and I'd be surprised if he ever pulls a stunt like that again).

Mr. Rude (from the Mr. Men books).

I've made sure that my son uses his manners.  And I know for a fact, anyone who has met my son, is impressed with his manners, and his respect for his elders.  In fact, when my son was visiting my sister in Canton last year, he wanted to get my sister's attention for something, and he said quite politely "Excuse me, Aunt Heather...".  Her sister-in-law apparently thought that was the cutest and most incredible thing ever - as though she'd never seen an interaction like that before.  That made me so proud of my runt...so incredibly proud, cause that's how I'm raising him - to be a polite little boy, who respects people.

As I said, I'm baffled.  People are just so.incredibly.rude.  I can't get over it.  Today for instance, I had to go to the bank.  As I was hobbling out, I went to push the door open and this jerk grabs the handle, yanks it, and pushes past me.  Of course, me not having a filter from brain-to-mouth currently, I never hesitated to say 'Thank you... dumb ass'.  He just glared at me and proceeded on his way.  I'm one of those people who will let others in ahead of me, whether it be in a store, or while driving - and if someone lets me in, I make sure they know that I'm grateful for that gesture... even when in the car I wave and say 'thank you'.  Gabriel thinks that's hilarious - as he puts it "Mom, why do you do that?? You know they can't hear you, right???"  I always explain to him, and remind him of the "do unto other's" philosophy.  You can't expect anyone to be nice to you if you're not nice to them.  I also realize there are people out there that are just plain mean and nasty.  But, in general - I believe in that philosophy. 

However... have you ever noticed that some of the rudest people get all pissy when someone isn't nice to them? I've had the misfortune of working with the public pretty much all of my working life.  It's the meanest, nastiest people that demand the greatest effort as though they've somehow earned it, but wont hesitate to turn around and treat others like the crud you find on the bottom of a shoe. 

Is it really that hard to be nice? Does it really take that much effort to be polite and say "thank you" ?!?!  People are so self absorbed that they don't care what happens around them.  Granted, I have my bad days - we all do.  But my day isn't so bad, that if someone does something nice for me, that I can't muster a few words of gratitude.  Usually, when someone does something for me when I'm having a bad day - it brightens my day (likely out of shock).  I think we all need to make more of an effort to be nice to others, we also need to make a bigger effort to encourage that behaviour in our kids. There are some nasty kids out there that will mouth off at adults, who also have the attitude that they can do what ever in the Hell they want, and what are you going to do about it?? (some of which live on my street and honestly, I wouldn't hesitate to run a particular red-haired-little-shit over with my car if given the opportunity - don't think I've missed the irony of that statement.  I'm talking about treating others with respect, and setting an example for our kids with our own behaviour - but you really have to meet this kid.  Like, really... *take a deep breath, Ruth... there you go... it's ok...deep breath*).

Seriously, folks - you think elder abuse is bad now?? Wait till our kids are out there in a world that has turned away from manners and respect - think about it for a while, ponder it.  Then get your butts out there and teach your kids to treat others (with respect and consideration) as they want to be treated, and to use their manners.  Maybe the older folk will pick up on this and try it out - who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks, eh?

OH... one more thing... Please and thank you.  Can't be forgetting my manners now, can I? ;^)

Pain in the Ass #10 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

Hi.  My name is Ruth and I'm an obnoxious-inappropriate-mouthy-holic.  Well, maybe not entirely, but as I think I've mentioned before - the filter from my brain to my mouth has disappeared (and in case anyone finds it, please return it to me - there isn't a reward or anything - but I'd really appreciate it all the same.. as will the innocent bystanders).

An example from 'Rants from Mommyland'

I find that certain things make me laugh.  Most times (ok, I'll be honest, ALL times) I want to share these things with other people.  However, it's been pointed out to me that not everyone shares the same warped sense of humor.  Honestly, that makes me sad...kinda sorta.


What brought this on was a new word I discovered.  I've been following a couple of  blogs; Pregnant Chicken and Rants from Mommyland.  These ladies crack me up!! They say it like it is, with humour.  It's funny - some days I'll be reading it, and I swear they've tapped into my brain/mind (of what there is...).  So, this new word I learned.  "WHUCK".  How freakin' awesome is that?? It's the polite amalgamation of WTF.  I love learning. Don't you?  I wanted so badly to post it (among other funny tidbits) but hesitated as I was worried that certain "friends" would have an issue with it, and post nasty comments.

I have always been the way I am (I know, how shocking!!).  My sense of humour doesn't always follow that of others - and I almost always find pretty much everything funny (I get tears in my eyes every. single. time. I watch Dumb and Dumber - and the scene where Harry is in the bathroom after Lloyd fed him laxatives).  My friends don't always get my humour, but almost all of them agree, at least I'm easy to amuse and they don't feel so bad when they put me in a corner...I'll just keep me company.  That is something I've had to do a lot in the last 9 months.  I find it super annoying how some people seem to find the need to criticize me and how I cope with things. I've been told I'm too self-deprecating; not positive enough; too sarcastic, etc.  My question is... how is my making fun of me and my situation a bad thing?  I'm not on meds for the pain; I hurt all the time.  Would they rather I turn to alcohol to cope??  I rather enjoy the stupid things that make me laugh.. at least I'm laughing people!!  And please, stop with the negative comments in my direction.  Not needed. Granted, not everyone finds the same stuff funny as I do, and yes, I can be too sarcastic, and yes, sometimes my humour is dark - but if you don't like it - go away and leave me alone.  I'm content, which currently, is a good thing considering my situation.

Another source of amusement for me is my son.  He's going to be nine this August.  Shocks the crap outta me, I have to be honest.  I simply can't believe it!!  I still remember the day I had him.  It's not likely something I'll be quick to forget.  It's been so awesome watching this runt grow up.  He's got an amazing personality, he's funny, charming - and a downright dork! (Yeah.. he takes after his mom.)  These aren't even my own observations - these are comments from other people that have met him.  But seriously, he's a riot.  He does accents (rather well - esp. the southern accent).  We rough house, call each other names; we can goof around and make each other laugh ( NO, I'm not his friend.  I'll likely  not be his friend till he's much older.  I'm still his mom - that will never change. I just try to balance the strict mom with the I-can-beat-you-down-and-tickle-the-crap-outta-you mom, all the while giving him an atomic wedgie and a side of wet-willy).  I've been told by several of his teachers he's going to be the next Jim Carrey.  Honestly, if he makes that kind of money - I'm cool with that.  As much as he amuses me, he drives me utterly insane.  He is the proven cause of the white/silver hair that insists on growing atop me head.  My least favorite expression is "I don't know".  I swear, I wanna smack him upside the head every time it leaks out of his face. (Man, I sound violent...I call it passion).  I'm passionate about my kid. Period. 

Then factor in my critters.  They too, have personalities.  We currently have a mini dachshund (cat in a dog suit), named Roxie; a cat - Frankie (super affectionate, annoying, fur covered fart machine) and my turtle, Ozzy (he's being rude lately, wont come out to play).  Roxie has her spaz moments, where she tears through the house... all you see is a psycho wiener running with ears flying behind her and hear the light thuds as she's doing the circuit; Frankie has his spaz attacks too.  The fights are even better.  They both give as good as they get.  The best part is when the cat crawls into Roxie's bed - she grabs him by the neck, head or paw (whatever she has access to) and yanks him out. Who needs TV??  Seriously.

I've also been following a new-to-me blog, Single Dad Laughing.  It's a blog written by a cute guy in Utah who is, as his name describes - a single dad.  He's vulnerable just like the rest of us and he's a dad who simply loves his kid.  He goes through all the same stuff as single moms do - which in itself is reassuring; he often feels the same as I do, too.  It's really cool to read the words of this man who gets it.  Too often we hear of these dead beat dads who don't deserve to breathe - and then I come across this guy who is anything but.  In my short 33 years on this planet, I've come across only a handful of great guys who are awesome and passionate about their kid(s).  I've never kept it a secret that not all men suck and this guy is another one to add to the pile.  I'm grateful to have found yet another blog that gets it, and that I can relate to.  Even nicer that it's written by a guy.  I think it happens too often that men don't get enough credit.  So, here's to you SDL - my hat's off to you.  

To my son, critters and all the blogs I've been reading in order to keep my sanity, thank you for giving me something else to do, and yet another way to amuse/entertain myself the last 9 months while stuck at home.  AND to all the people who are stuck with me, thanks for letting me be me - even though I annoy you and make you shake your collective heads at times.

Pain in the Ass #9 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

Well, it's getting to be that time again.  Summer.  For me, summer used to be the same as any other time, except my son would go to day care while I went to work as I did every other day.  Last year Gabriel had the opportunity to spend time with my Aunt and Uncle in Pittsburgh, PA and my sister and her family in Canton, NY.  He had a blast.  This year, he's going to be really busy between, another trip to Canton, soccer camp, spending time with our babysitter (of almost 7 years now) and his best bud, Bola. 

However, after last year, I'm less eager to cross the border.  I had a run in with customs, and needless to say - I just don't wanna deal with those morons. Seeing as Gabriel wants to see his cousins in NY, I'm going to have to do it all over again.  *sigh*  For those of you who didn't hear about my adventure, I'll relive it - just for the Hell of it.  Maybe, whoever reads this (ha ha ha) will share some of their horror stories at the border, etc.

Here goes... My adventure at the border was something I'd been hoping for (please note sarcasm).  I was coming back from Buffalo as my aunt had Gabriel with them in Pittsburgh about a week, and she was nice enough to shave 3-4 hours off of my drive by meeting me in Buffalo.  When I was crossing back over into Canada, they asked me where I lived - so I told them. They then asked me where I was coming from, again, I answered them. They inquired as to why I was coming from Buffalo - so I told them I was meeting my aunt. They asked me why I was meeting her.  I replied with "I was picking up my son". They asked me why he was there and for how long, told them that too. Chick at the border says "I need you to pull over to one of the parking spots, and one of our agents will be with you shortly." So, I do what I'm told. Dude meets me, and tells me I have to go into the customs building. I go in. He then takes my passport and tells me I have to return to my vehicle, and the agents out there will assist me. I ask him what the problem is, and he tells me again to go out side. So, I go (and remember, I have my very tired, and semi grouchy kid with me through out this BS).

Dude and chick are waiting for me, and I take them to my car. They tell me to unlock it and to stand by the sidewalk. They searched the car; took the rockets that Gabriel had made with my uncle apart, put them back together. Grilled me some more, closed the doors after the search and then told me to go back in the building. Again, do what I'm told, but not before I asked them what the problem was. They of course didn't answer.  I went back in there where I'm told I have to go back to the US side, go thru customs and then ret'n back to Canada.  I asked for my passport back and he declines, instead gives me a form and then says this will suffice in lieu of my passport. Again I ask what's up... he tells me to just do what I'm told (as you know me, this is hard to do without a fight) but I did it. Didn't want to be arrested or something.

So, back I go around to the US customs, hand him the form and G's passport.  Dude looks at me like I'm stupid. Asks me why I don't have a passport, told him the story. He goes over to the dude in the shed beside him, comes back to me, hands me another form and makes a snide remark about Canada, and tells me to do what the other (original) dude says and go back to the Canadian side...so...I do that.  They look at me like I'm crazy on our side, and I just tell the same story.  He then tells me that I must have said or done something to make them worry.  I told him exactly what they asked me and what I said.  This dude is puzzled and says that he didn't understand, but that it was good I just went along with it. Yay me! So, I go back to the building to get my passport.  I shared my frustration (HUGE waste of time) and told the guy that I don't get what's going on or why this happened, but it would be nice to know what was wrong.  He just says to me, that it's up to them to decide what happens and if I don't like it, then I should just stay in my country, and leave it at that. I tell him that my country, at this point, is moronic, especially when it was Canadian customs that were running around with their heads up their collective butts, treating a 'fellow' Canadian citizen like this and wont even answer a simple question. I refrained from saying anything more, even though there was so much I wanted to say... as I didn't want to be arrested, and have my child put God know's where.

Moral of the story...bend over and just take it.  Hurts less when you're more relaxed, apparently.  God Bless Canada, Eh?

P.S. I'm now UBER excited to go back to the States... Road trip, anyone??

Pain in the Ass #8 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

Both Tom Petty and Johnny Cash sang these words,
'Well I know what's right, I got just one life; in a world that keeps on pushin me around; but I'll stand my ground...and I won't back down'.  
Today, more than ever these words speak to me.  I know that likely sounds corny - but it's the truth.

I also got to thinking about something I said in a previous blog about how I never keep my ex from our son, and how I've even cancelled things so that he could see his dad.  I sound like a pussy.  Plain and simple.  I sound like a push over.  And that's what my ex preys on.  Well, no more. 

I'm tired of being pushed around and bullied.  This here blog is my voice as of late, and I'm shouting out!  No longer am I going to be bullied.  No longer am I going to be pushed around or threatened.  I wont be a bitch, no way! I wont be mean! I will continue to play fair as I have all along.  BUT I'm not going to be the push over. I'm no longer going to go out of my way to allow access, and no longer going to cancel my plans to accommodate my ex. 

I need to teach my son how to treat people, and how he needs to treat women.  I want him to respect women, and to see that we're not the weaker of the species - that we are all supposed to be treated equal.  He needs to see me stand up for myself and realize that in doing so, I'm standing up for him AND teaching him a life lesson at the same time. 

He's been going on with this "treat others as you'd have them treat you" - but he's missing the point.  He thinks that it means if someone does you wrong, then you do wrong to them.  I'm trying to teach him that it's not that way at all.  I try to tell him that you treat others as you want to be treated.  I try to encourage him to take the higher road.  I hope that he'll see what I struggle to do with his dad every encounter, in spite of how his father treats me.  But at the same time, I don't want him thinking it's ok for his father to belittle me in front of him, or that it's ok to bully me.  My son needs to know that it's not ok to treat others like that. 

My fear tho, is that if I stand up to his father, and not do everything I can to ensure that he sees his dad - that he will resent me.  I'm told that in the end, Gabriel will realize what's what - and that he'll see that I love him, and that I'm the one that's provided him with love, and stability and that I've done everything I could to protect him.  I believe these words to a point, but at the same time - doesn't take away the pains in my heart knowing that my son is caught in the middle of this no matter what I do to prevent that.  I've done what I can to keep him out of the middle, to not use him as a messenger; to not involve him in the disputes between his father and I.  I wont ever bad talk his father in front of him.  He's got to figure it all out on his own - and I wont be the one to help him either.  If he can have a relationship with his father in the end of all of this, I sure as Hell wont be the one to take that away from him.  I love Gabriel more than I dislike his father.  And quite frankly, that's the way it should be.  Too often children are taken down with the wreckage of a failed marriage/relationship - and I refuse to do that to him.

Those who know me know I love my son more than anything else in this world, and that there's nothing I wouldn't do for him.  But I also have to stand up for myself, otherwise, I'm teaching him all the wrong things and in doing so, I'm allowing this poor behaviour to continue. I ask that you all think of us and keep Gabriel and I in your prayers.

Pain in the Ass #7 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

This year certainly has been one of those years.  But I know that I'm not alone.  And if I go back a few years ago, I felt like it was a bad thing to be a part of my family for at least 2-3 years straight.  One thing after another - and most of it was death related.  I got to thinking about everything that happened back then this morning as I was in the shower.  Not entirely sure why to be honest, but it just popped in my brain.

Rewind...

Jan/07 - I broke my foot (and was subsequently off work for 3 mo's); and my Aunt Connie died just days after that.
May/07 - Kicked my husband out (Just as I was starting back to work)
Sept/07 - My mom died at the age of 53, and I officially moved on from my failed marriage
Jan/08 - Sold the matrimonial home and bought my own home for Gabriel and I
Sept/08 -  My Aunt Charlene died
Jan/09 - My Grandpa Brohm died

It's so weird when I look back... I have to wonder, how in the Hell did I keep all my hair and not go nuts.  I mean, when you factor in all the emotional heartache from a death in the family, let alone four deaths, and then a failed marriage, and the struggle to keep me together for my son - Good God!! It's truly insane.  Then I think about that saying "God gives you only what you can handle".  I think He thinks too highly of me, personally.  However, it was also during this time, that I met my best friend.  So, I guess in some ways it balanced out.

Fast forward to now, tho.  Off work for over 6 mo's due to a back injury; having to get back on my feet both literally and financially.  Really, is this so bad??  I think not.  I seem to go in cycles - with all the crap that keeps happening.  It seems to be about every 3-4 years.  However, this time around, I have a wonderful man, Bola - to help me shoulder my stress and anxiety. 

It's also one of those strange years for me, more or less in relation to my mom.  I've never really missed her - not since I was a little girl.  This past birthday, my 33rd, I REALLY missed her.  Couldn't tell you why, either.  I'd gotten a note on FB from a friend of hers, who is also a cousin once or twice removed.  She was wishing me a happy birthday, and telling me how she remembers my mom bringing me home, and how she was one of the first to see me.

One of the first pics of me and my mom. ~1977

My mom and I had a very tumultuous relationship.  I don't want to go into the nitty gritty, but it was an abusive relationship, with neglect and a lot of misplaced parenting.  I grew up fast, and I had to be the 'parent' to my brother a lot of the time, and quite frankly to my mother as well.  On too many occasions I had to be her voice of reason, the responsible one.  She wanted to be my friend, but I wanted a mother.  Someone who would guide me and direct me as a parent should.  This is one of the many reasons I'm grateful for my grandparents, Bob and Irene - they were amazing role models, and a source of fear for me.  I knew if I did something really stupid - I was dead. End of story.

Mom was a flashy woman, who had an eye for glam.  Her nails were always done, always wearing her trademark 'door knocker' earrings (lol) and she was always done up with make up.  She knew how to put herself together.  She had such incredible talent - an amazing artist.  She met people like Andy Donato, Ben Wicks, Lynn Johnston - was even offered a job with Walt Disney at some point.  Her taste in music was impeccable.  I have to admit, that is one thing I'm truly grateful for - the music.  She'd be shaking the house with Led Zeppelin, CCR, Pink Floyd, The Doobie Brothers... and countless others.  Other times, she'd be listening to the sometimes softer, but equally incredible Elton John, Billy Joel or Stevie Wonder.  God - I love that music, and all cause of her.

As I said, I grew up fast.  Especially after my parents split.  The way I had to grow up was the foundation for the parent I am today.  So much of what I saw and experienced was far from appropriate - but, again - it's made me who I am today, good or bad.  I know as adults we look back, and can relate to the children we were, and how we don't want to repeat our parents 'mistakes'.  I guess so long as we learn and grow from it, that's what's important - and not to use it as a crutch or an excuse for what we've turned into.

It's because of the relationship that I had with my mother when she was alive that I don't know how to deal with my feelings towards her now.  I've said this before, and I'll say it again (countless times I'm sure) I'm eternally grateful for the day I spent with her, the day she died.  I broke some serious laws that day, trying to get from Barrie to Bobcaygeon when the nursing home called me saying that my mom wasn't doing well, and that it was best I get there ASAP.  Those who know me, know I have a lead foot.  Well, it came in handy that day.  I already had the story set in my head for when the cops would pull me over (and surprisingly enough, they didn't).  I think I got to Bobcaygeon in less than 2 hours from the time I got the call, called work, picked up my son and packed a bag for us.

Days before, I had to make the choice as to whether or not to continue with the dialysis.  I had talked to her before that, asking her what she wanted.  She had told me that so long as she was able to make the decision she wanted to continue.  But should the time come when it wasn't beneficial for her to continue, and/or should she be unable to make that call - it was up to me.  I told her that when it gets to that point, I was going to ask them to stop.  She agreed with me.  When I arrived that day, she was unresponsive.  It was what I had expected, but all the same - it was so real.  It was happening and there was nothing I could do at this point.  My grandmother was there, and so was my brother, Chris and my son.  We were with her, together, for a couple of hours, and then they all left to go back to my grandmothers.  I stayed with my mom.  I had my mp3 player with me, and played her favorite music for her.  I took the opportunity to talk to her.  I told her that it no longer mattered what happened in the past and that I forgave her for all that had happened.  I also asked for her forgiveness.  I had been so angry with her for so many years - I wanted her to forgive me for that anger.  I know my anger was warranted, but at the point we were both at during that last day together - it really didn't matter.  I really don't know if she forgave me, but I hope that she heard what I had to say, and I hope that she passed on knowing that it was all in the past, and that I loved her.

That very night, after I had left - she died.  I really didn't expect the emotions that hit me.  They still hit me from time-to-time.  But I'm so grateful for them.  It's because I had that one last chance with her that I can feel these emotions.  I'm no longer angry with her, or bitter over how I grew up.  I do wish that we could have had this breakthrough before she died - but it happened nonetheless.

I planned the memorial service, and dealt with the funeral home. My family helped with the 'social' part of it.  The church wasn't too keen to allow me to play Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven' as people left the service in honour of my mother.  To be honest, it really annoyed me.  BUT, when we buried her with my Aunt Connie (mom was cremated) I had Led Zeppelin playing in the cemetery for her.  It was the least I could do.  I also picked out a marker for both my aunt and my mother - I'm realizing now, I need to get up to Norland to get a picture of it!  

It's when I'm listening to music she loved, Spring days - when everything is in bloom - or on Autumn days when the leaves are at their most beautiful and the smell of Fall is upon us... Christmas - with all the decorations and the music... she is in my thoughts and it's during those times I really miss her.  I know in some ways, I'm a lot like her.  I draw - been told I'm talented, but I'm no-where near the talent she was; I have the same insane love for music that she did.  I'll never be the same Christmas looney she was, but I do like to put the tree up ASAP, and have the music going (as soon as Halloween is over) - I get that from her.  I'm sad that she wont get to know my incredible son - and to see the little nut that he's becoming. Maybe she's watching us from up in Heaven, with my grampa and my aunt - keeping an eye on all of us.

They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but in our case we're nuts!

L'il Suzie - one of my faves!!

Pain in the Ass #6 - well, actually L2-4 and the sacroiliac joint/tailbone...

Reflections...

Don't think for a moment that I'm not fully aware of how whiny and bitchy my blogs can be.  It seems it's all I ever do any more.  However, I do have some really wonderful things in my life, all of which I'm so utterly grateful for, and completely indebted to God for.

For starters, how about that wonderful son of mine?? I swear, there are days where I look at him and think "He's mine, and I love him!".  There are days where I look at him and think "If he doesn't stop doing that, and start listening, I'm going to stick a sign on him saying 'free to a good home; comes with all toys, clothes and is potty trained' ".  There are also days where I look at him, and I can't help but to think "HE'S MINE!!! I AM SO UTTERLY, COMPLETELY AND HELPLESSLY IN LOVE WITH THIS KID!!! AND, I JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF HIM"... and usually that one is followed with me grabbing his little body and hugging him and kissing him way past the point of him doing the cat-caught-by-Pepè le pew act of pushing me away.  He is the most incredible kid (and I know I'm biased - I am his mom, of course) and I am the most lucky mom in the entire world to have this kid with me, in my life.  I wasn't supposed to have children according to my doctor.  Was told I shouldn't have children cause of my diabetes, and the strain on my kidneys (no, not quite as bad as Julia Roberts in 'Steel Magnolias').  And my husband, after we got married decided he didn't want kids. It seemed as though I just wasn't going to have a baby.  Then one night, we found out that I was pregnant, and my little miracle, Gabriel, came to be.  God, I love that kid.  'Thank you for him.  Thank you so very much - there isn't anything I can ever do to show you my gratitude for his existence.'  Have I mentioned how awesome my son is???

Then there are my grandparents.  My grandmother and I, haven't always seen eye-to-eye.  In fact there was a point, I didn't really like her much.  She's a very controlling woman, who's point of view is/was "Do it the way I tell you, when I tell you, or ..." well, you don't want me to finish that sentence.  But when I got older, I understood why she's like that.  She had a HORRIBLE childhood.  She might not always show it in the conventional, non-neurotic way - but she loves her family to a fault.  She goes way over board to protect and to ensure that you do what you need to do, be prepared and educated, able to contribute to society and to not have 'crutches' or 'excuses' why you can't do something. It's her opinion, that there is no reason not to do, and certainly no reason (short of physical limitations and/or death) to not at least try.  She is a very particular woman (I can't even make comments, as I'm OCD - pot calling the kettle black, etc...)  Back to my point though - she wants to make sure her 'kin are cared for, and doesn't want them to have the life she had. She wants us to have a better life, with ample opportunities.  She loves us. She's not always able to show it, or say it - but when she does, it means the entire world to me.  I know for a fact that she feels guilty for how I grew up with my mother (another long story). It pains me that she feels that way, but it's not something I can take from her, no matter what I say.

My grandfather has been dead for a couple of years now.  I miss him more than anything I could ever imagine.  He was, and still is quite frankly, the greatest man who ever existed.  God, how I miss him.  He was always there for me, in my corner.  Being the voice of reason when my grandma and I would clash.  He was the one who said on countless occasions "Irene, she's just a girl.  Let it be."  I remember him telling me I was his favorite (of course, I'm sure he told all of us that).  I remember him telling me how proud he was of me, for what I'd accomplished.  I remember how that felt - how insanely proud that made me, to know that he felt that way about me.  I also remember the afternoons, when he'd be watching something like the Bugs Bunny cartoons (he LOVED Foghorn Leghorn), Benny Hill, or Red Skelton (Guzzler's Gin - another favorite).  He'd be laughing SO hard, that he'd cry; I still remember him fixing the comb over he so lovingly tended to, slapping his knee, and just laughing at the 'stupid ass' on the TV set.  I remember the smell of the barn on him. To others, you may cringe at this - but it was a smell I actually loved.  It was how he smelled most of the time as he was a farmer, on top of everything else he did, day-to-day.  I miss his big hands, so rough and dry - but they were working hands, his hands.  But I also remember how the Alzheimer's took him away from us. It slowly erased the stories he had of his family coming to Canada from Germany, 3 generations before; took away the memories he had of his immediate family - causing him to forget that both his parents had died many years ago; causing him to no longer recognize his family - the people that adored him.

There were a few funny things about the Alzheimer's... for instance, before he got really bad, and while he still knew who my grandma was - he was affectionate with her in front of me.  Coming up to her and hugging her, and giving her kisses.  It was a side of them I'd never seen before.  He'd 'regressed' to his younger days, I'm guessing, and although he saw an older version of his young love before him - he still saw the woman that he loved for many, many years.  I feel so blessed to have seen that.

He no longer held his tongue.  The man I remember was VERY diplomatic.  Never heard a foul word from his mouth.  That being said, I'm sure he reserved that for the men that worked with him, and kept that part of him from his grandchildren.  There were times that we feared he'd say the wrong things at the worst time - but from what I recall, I don't think he ever said anything too bad to the 'right' people.

He also ate a peanut butter sandwich.  For those who didn't know him - let me tell you this... when I was growing up, he shared with me stories of him growing up with his two brothers, and his parents.  They were poor, and going thru The Great Depression.  They practically lived on vats of peanut butter - somewhat healthy, and was what they could afford.  He HATED that stuff, and swore he'd rather die than to eat that EVER again!!  I was visiting him one day when he was in the nursing home.  The PSW brought him a sandwich for a snack, and he started eating it.  I couldn't help but notice the smell, and asked her what it was made of.  She informed me that it was a PB & J sandwich.  I almost fell off my chair as my grandpa exclaimed "Mmm...this is good!".  I couldn't believe it.  It was both funny and heartbreaking in a way as it was yet another sign that we were loosing him further.  I still remember the day, where he'd had one of the last of his lucid moments, when I told him how much I missed him - he responded with "I miss me too".  I leaned over, kissed him on the forehead, told him I loved him - to which I got an "I love you too, Ruthie"...and then he was 'gone'.  He didn't know who I was after that.

I still remember the night he died.  It was him, my grandma and me.  It was an awful death.  Not a peaceful one.  As much as I hate the memory of how he died - I'm so very grateful to God, that I got to be there with him and my grandma during that time.  It's a time I'll never give up, or regret.  I got to be with my grandma as she watched her husband pass on to life in Heaven - to a life without that miserable disease that erased the man we all loved so much, and I got to say good bye to the most incredible man I will ever know.  As sad as it all sounds - I wouldn't replace it.  No matter how sad I am, thinking about life without my grampa - I have the memories, and I had the great fortune to have been someone he loved, and was proud of.  I know he watches over me, and I really hope he's still proud of me.  'I hope you know how much I truly miss you, Grampa.'

Both my grandma and my grandpa were like parents to me; they cared for me and loved me.  No matter how much we (grandma and I) drove each other nuts, I love that woman so much.  I can't imagine my life without her...and to be honest, I dread the day she's gone.  Cause then I'll kind of be on my own.  Those two were the biggest influences in my life, and they were the two constants in my life - never changing.  I am a lucky girl to have had people like Bob and Irene as parents/grandparents...even though, I didn't always see it that way when I was a teen.

I'm also very grateful for my life.  I have an education, good work ethic and a lot of kick ass determination.  I've worked hard to be where I am.  I own my house, my car.  I'm able to provide for my son and I.  I'm not rich by any means, but I'm capable and a provider all the same.  I have a wonderful man in my life right now, who I love.  He's wonderful to me, to my son (my son loves him too).  An awesome dad to his incredible little girl, Destiny (who I love and adore).  I don't know what the future holds for me - no freakin' clue.  What I can tell you tho, no matter what comes my way, I've got a lot to be grateful for; memories I wont give up without one Hell of a fight and some very important people in my corner rooting for me both here on earth, and I'm sure up in Heaven, too.