Extended Family Activities

We picked him up from the Big O on Tuesday.  He wasn’t at all about "are we there yet?" in the car.  It was more like — we’re on the way!!!

We're on the way

 He’s ten.  TEN.  Yup.

Yesterday we went to the Build-A-Bear Workshop.  He made a bear.  I made an owl.  He turned his into Darth Maul bear with a few additions, but I just got mine a sweater vest.  Afterwards we went to (Don’t look, Allison!) Joseph Beth’s to buy a couple of Beverly Cleary books (Whom my nephew had never heard of!) and have lunch.

What kinda ten year old has never heard of Henry, Beezus, Ramona, or Ribsy?  And still be related to ME!  Situation remedied.

Then we went to Whole Foods to pay too much for some delicious things to eat.  Turns out the kid had never had fresh blueberries or a scone.  EVER.

My nephew has a fondness for good food, but not so much for good food that is slow to be served (He’s used to McDonald’s, pholks — another reason I bring him up to see me from time to time).

What is taking the food so long...

Now I have to stop blogging so my nephew can get online.  Apparently he doesn’t have decent access to the internet in the Big O either.

Pholks, he’s using dial-up.

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The visit was nice and quiet.  My dad was especially pleased with his Charlie Brown Xmas tree:

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But he really enjoyed watching my first movie:

He’s an even bigger Pink Floyd fan than I am — being that he introduced me to Pink Floyd when I was a child.  And after watching this I let him mess around in my photo booth:

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Does that picture remind you of Dick Van Dyke or Stan Laurel?  Or Dick Van Dyke doing Stan Laurel?

My nephew couldn’t get enough of playing in photo booth.  I finally got him off when I noticed my battery reserve was getting low (He didn’t know I’d brought along my power cord!).

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But seriously, check out the rest of his photos on my flicker account, he just never really got the hang of it.  Like when he was using the fish eye effect … he couldn’t get it to work.

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Now that is funny and I don’t care who you are!

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Like I did today.  I heard an old Joni Mitchell song and it made me think of my Mom.

And I missed her.

I don’t know why a Joni Mitchell song would bring such a strong feeling of my Mom to the surface.  She didn’t even listen to Joni Mitchell.

It was Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, and Kris Kristofferson my mother listened to.

Thanksgiving dinner was a big deal with my Mom.  She always made out her menu weeks before and would shop for goods up until the very day before.

She always made too much of too many different things to eat.  Seriously.  She’d have like 15 items on the table and a turkey with all the trimmings, too!  And then there would be 2 or 3 pies — and a pineapple upsidedown cake.

Pineapple upsidedown cake. 

I never cared for it until the last Thanksgiving I remember her making it.  I don’t even know why I cut myself a slice.

It was delicious.  It melted in my mouth.  It was so good.

I did my Thanksgiving meal shopping this morning after I dropped darling hubby off at his office.  It will be just him and me for dinner.  Darling son will be his girlfriend’s family — but he will still be expecting leftovers at home for the rest of the week.

My Dad is driving up from the big O to have dinner at my brother’s — then he is driving back home.  He is not even staying overnight.  It’s my plan to pop over for a quick visit before he leaves.

I thought about him.  Driving up by himself and then back.  Alone.  And back home to his empty house.

My Mom cooked for my Dad.  Every meal was about my Dad.  Sometimes she would say she’d made this or that because one of us, her children, favored it — but she really cooked for my Dad. 

I never cook like my Mom.  We’re having turkey and like 5 other things with it tomorrow.  I did get two pies from a local charity sale and I’m baking them tonight (actually hubby is doing it for me).  Pumpkin and Cherry.

My Mom and I talked on the phone at least once a week — for hours.  And then she went into the hospital.  She was hooked up to a respirator and oxygen for the months and months she was in the hospital.  I only got to hear her speak once more in all that time.  It was only for a few minutes when the nurse came in, took her off everything, and then stood by at the ready in case being off all the equipment was too much…

I could barely hear her.  I imagine it was because her throat was incredibly dry.  I can’t remember what she said.

Oh, God.  I can’t even remember what she said.

I mourned my Mom every day she was in the hospital.  I mourned over the loss of our telephone calls.  Oh, I could call and talk to Mom, but she couldn’t talk back. 

I wrote to her in the hospital until my Dad complained about how long it took him to read the letters to my Mom — and about the crazy way I would spell some words.  So I stopped writing her.

I don’t know who I hate more for that.  Prolly me.  I shoulda just said, "fuck you, Dad."  And kept on writing her long letters with lots of crazy spelled words.

I knew she wasn’t coming home ever again.  I knew. 

I am still so angry at her.  She was supposed to live into her nineties.  Her mother did.  My grandparents did.  They lived long lives.  Mom didn’t even make it to seventy.

I missed my Mom today.

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Last week and this week have not been one of my best weeks ever.  In fact, a lot of it just sucked.

First there was the migraine, brought on by who knows what because I am not harvesting the damn things.  I promise!

Wait.  Maybe the week began the week before…

My dad had called me to tell me that my mom’s little brother (my uncle) had died down in Florida (where they would spend the winter).  There would be no funeral, because he was being cremated, but there would be a memorial service later this spring up in Ohio.

Okay.  I could deal with that.  I mean my Uncle was only 67, but he had been in bad shape and getting worse for years.  His golden years were not going to happen.  My mom died at 68.  Some of you guys may think these people were really old, but they weren’t.  I’m 48 right now.  I hope I’ve got more than 20 good years left — at least that’s what I’m working for. 

My two gramma’s and one grampa made it to their 90′s.  My other grampa died of pneumonia in his 50′s, but it was complicated because he’d also had tuberculosis at one time…bad lungs and all.  The grampa that did make it to his 90′s should have probably gone in his 80′s.  His last years were much like that of my Uncle mentioned above.

So that was just before last week, but I was handling well (probably because I wasn’t going to really have to deal with it until the memorial service). 

Then I get this freakin’ migraine last week.  Crap.  Can I just say that until the thing actually started I was feeling really good physically and mentally?  And I knew it.  And I thought about it.  Which prolly jinxed it for me.

You know, like when everything’s going fine and you’ve actually even got money in your savings account and then the furnace goes out or something and there goes the start of something good that you have to start all over…

Then on Tuesday, the worst day of the migraine, my dad called to tell me that my other Uncle died.

Seriously.

And I’m all like how I don’t get it; because I keep in contact with these people via emails and no one told me Uncle two has had cancer since February, that was discovered too late. 

Two Uncles.  One week.  Oh, it could be worse.  One of them could’ve been my husband, my dad, or brother.  Two of them.

So now Uncle two’s funeral is to be Friday and since everyone will be there Uncle one’s memorial service is going to be on Saturday.

And my Dad’s worried I won’t be coming because:

a)  I avoid these things connected with public mourning and;

b)  I’m in the middle of a migraine;

c)  I hate being away from home.

I try to tell him that I will be there; that this is not the worst migraine ever and it will pass soon because I need to be at work; and then he’s like I won’t be coming because I’ll have to miss more work.

Hey my migraine and these deaths are completely unrelated, I will be there.  And I was.

I held on to my emotions during the whole ordeal because I needed to be someone else’s shoulders for being emotional.  Those that were closer than I was (not being a wife or child and such) and I almost succeeded until my cousin gave me a picture of her dad with his brother taken a couple of years earlier.  My Uncles…

 Baby Brother Big Brother

And then Monday I’m back at work and kinda lost between having been out with the migraine, and my uncles, and now an office mate’s dog had a stroke while I was gone and she will prolly have to put him down (she did today) and I’ve got stuff to do on my desk and don’t know where to start.

But I do start on something because I’ve got an event I have to help with that afternoon.  And then in the middle of this I get an email from Moveable Feast and have to turn them down because of the event that will last after hours…

And then just before I leave for the event I check mine and my boss’ calendars and see that I have conference in the morning and he will be out of the office, too — so I send him an IM to remind him that we will both be out of the office in the morning.

I do my part at the event and get home before six.  I do some laundry, run the dishwasher, take the dogs out, feed ‘em and get into bed by nine.

Because I am frazzled.

Then today I’m sitting at this event and I’m thinking this thing doesn’t really have much to do with my job, I wish I hadn’t signed up for it — but hey there’s a office mate!  And there was lunch, too!

And then I get back to my office and discover no one knew where I was.

Crap.

My boss didn’t see the IM.  In fact he didn’t even know I was supposed to work the event the afternoon before and was surprised to see me there.  I’m thinking this is the kinda stuff that happens when you really have two bosses, and I’m wondering which one I sent the reminder IM to.

Then I get an email from my other boss that I’m out of the office too much.  So the sickness and medical appointments I can’t do much about, but other my boss pretty much cancels everything I have on my calendar that will take me away from my desk — and we agree to communicate better.

Crap.

I screwed up royally.

Crapola.

Finally this day is done and I am on my way home.  HOME SWEET HOME.

And then I’m out with Lily and those kids are back and now they are throwing rocks at each other.  (And I forgot to include how I came upon a couple them the other day throwing rocks at the street light behind my house.)

So I drag Lily with me over to D’s house and tell her what’s going on and what can I do to get through to these kids so they will stop behaving like assholes.  And then it turns out she’s having problems with these kids, too.

THEY CAME INTO HER YARD AND TOOK HER LAWN CHAIRS OUT TO THE ALLEY TO SIT IN WHILE WATCHING OTHERS PLAY BASKETBALL.

OMG!

And they don’t go home until well after dark and they’re always cussing and yelling; and the other day they were shooting a BB gun at one of her kids; and that a lady at the other end of the block called the cops on them and, And, AND!!!

And they don’t listen to anyone!

So I go back out there and have the kids separate into who is visiting who.  There’s like 10 kids out there, but only two of them are actually visiting anyone who lives here.

So I tell the other kids they need to leave now or explain to the cops why they are not in their own street behind one of their own houses throwing rocks at each other, and this and that…

Because that is what this is about.  Kids misbehaving.  Even against each other.  What kind of middle school aged kid doesn’t know that getting hit with a rock will hurt?  Rocks damage property?  Rocks could put someone’s eye out?  (Okay, I had to go there.)

They all know!

They can’t just play and behave and be respectful of those who’s street they are playing on.  Nope.  They have to go out of their way with just asking to be run off.

I know they say it takes a village, but DAHAMN, must they annoy the village?

…and it’s only Tuesday!

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