I'm wandering through the house -- picking up wrappings and trying my best to tidy up. While I'm wandering I'm also wondering.
The oldies are in Texas. I'm just enough of an egomaniac that I'm sure they need me. I'm wondering...
The daughter is on a plane. Beyond the prayers for a safe trip, I wonder about her life. She's happy and we're thrilled. But, there are lots of decisions in her future.
The baby is headed back to college in a few days. I wander through his bedroom and then I wonder ... Have we put too much pressure on this child?
The husband keeps me in the loop but he is stressed. I wonder if I'm making it better or worse.
I wonder about friends. Do they need my help? Am I failing them?
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Self-Absorbed
My friend, BB, is a regular reader of my blog/brog. She doesn't have Internet access so it must be printed out for her. It is highly flattering to me that she cares enough to read it.
A few weeks ago, she went with some girlfriends to Branson, Missouri -- one of my worst nightmares. During the trip, she was reading some of the blog entries aloud. (Oh, to have been able to eavesdrop on that!) A woman commented that the writer seems pretty self-absorbed. Remember the child on the playground who would get irritated and say, "It's my ball and I'm taking it home?" Same concept. She refused to share any more. If possible, I love her even more for jumping to my defense.
Here's the reality: I am slightly self-absorbed. Writing about my life and living with the oldies requires sharing my thoughts and my feelings. So, the lady was probably right. It is about me, me, me.
Self-absorbed is an ok thing. I think we need more of it. Women need to be more self-absorbed. The world functions better when women take care of their health and their mental state. Sometimes that requires a little introspection.
This is different than self-centered, although I have been there too. Remember, I'm an only child and it took me a few years/decades to realize that the world did not revolve around me. (The Unabomber is 84-years old and he has yet to figure this out.)
It comes back to the neighborhood of my childhood. These people have watched me grow up along side their own children. They've loved me and they've disciplined me. They've known my sweet side and my bratty side. I've annoyed them and I've adored them. I've never doubted their affection. I have a pseudo sister. I also have lots of pseudo parents.
When the baby was little, I would kneel with him as he said his prayers, "Now I lay me down to sleep ..." When we got to the part of, "Please bless and protect so and so," the list became endless. One night, he looked at me and said, "I have so many people who love me!"
It's a pretty cool feeling.
A few weeks ago, she went with some girlfriends to Branson, Missouri -- one of my worst nightmares. During the trip, she was reading some of the blog entries aloud. (Oh, to have been able to eavesdrop on that!) A woman commented that the writer seems pretty self-absorbed. Remember the child on the playground who would get irritated and say, "It's my ball and I'm taking it home?" Same concept. She refused to share any more. If possible, I love her even more for jumping to my defense.
Here's the reality: I am slightly self-absorbed. Writing about my life and living with the oldies requires sharing my thoughts and my feelings. So, the lady was probably right. It is about me, me, me.
Self-absorbed is an ok thing. I think we need more of it. Women need to be more self-absorbed. The world functions better when women take care of their health and their mental state. Sometimes that requires a little introspection.
This is different than self-centered, although I have been there too. Remember, I'm an only child and it took me a few years/decades to realize that the world did not revolve around me. (The Unabomber is 84-years old and he has yet to figure this out.)
It comes back to the neighborhood of my childhood. These people have watched me grow up along side their own children. They've loved me and they've disciplined me. They've known my sweet side and my bratty side. I've annoyed them and I've adored them. I've never doubted their affection. I have a pseudo sister. I also have lots of pseudo parents.
When the baby was little, I would kneel with him as he said his prayers, "Now I lay me down to sleep ..." When we got to the part of, "Please bless and protect so and so," the list became endless. One night, he looked at me and said, "I have so many people who love me!"
It's a pretty cool feeling.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Phonics -- It has to end in an E sound
Once, I was at the lake and we got into this weird discussion about names and nicknames. It was Patsy, Sheri, Betsy, Kathy, Mickey, etc. The men use formal names for business but when we're together, it's Danny, Ronnie, Dickie, Jimmy, Phillie, etc. We pondered -- is this a generational thing?
I have a girlfriend who insists on Deb or Deborah. She's always Debbie to me.
The only person who's allowed to call my girlfriend Cynthia, "Cindy" is her husband. Big Daddy pushes this rule a bit. When the Baby is feeling wild and crazy, he calls her "Thia" (Pronounced Thee-ah.)
Even the word "oldies" ends with an E sound.
I have a girlfriend who insists on Deb or Deborah. She's always Debbie to me.
The only person who's allowed to call my girlfriend Cynthia, "Cindy" is her husband. Big Daddy pushes this rule a bit. When the Baby is feeling wild and crazy, he calls her "Thia" (Pronounced Thee-ah.)
Even the word "oldies" ends with an E sound.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
No Ma'am and Yes Sir
I haven't figured out if I'm more Yankee or Southern. I have a foot in both camps.
We've had two nephews visit recently. They're both well-mannered. Every sentence begins or ends with "Sir or Ma'am." If they miss something, instead of saying, "Pardon me?" they say, "Ma'am?" The oldies just scream, "What?!"
A lot of women get irritated if they are called Ma'am. It makes them feel old. In the south, it's the norm and I find it charming.
The baby doesn't say "Sir or Ma'am" very often. (If he does, it's tongue in cheek.) He does use last names, i.e Mrs. Lee or Mr. England. Many of these people have decided that he is now an adult and can call them by their first names. He can't do it.
I was sitting outside with my nephew last night and my neighbor came through the gate. He said, "Would that be Miss Pam?" I said, "Yes sir, it is."
I guess the southern side wins.
We've had two nephews visit recently. They're both well-mannered. Every sentence begins or ends with "Sir or Ma'am." If they miss something, instead of saying, "Pardon me?" they say, "Ma'am?" The oldies just scream, "What?!"
A lot of women get irritated if they are called Ma'am. It makes them feel old. In the south, it's the norm and I find it charming.
The baby doesn't say "Sir or Ma'am" very often. (If he does, it's tongue in cheek.) He does use last names, i.e Mrs. Lee or Mr. England. Many of these people have decided that he is now an adult and can call them by their first names. He can't do it.
I was sitting outside with my nephew last night and my neighbor came through the gate. He said, "Would that be Miss Pam?" I said, "Yes sir, it is."
I guess the southern side wins.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Out of the Mouths of Babes
The husband is a huge Beatles fan. We have a coffee table book about them and it was displayed prominently -- well, on the coffee table. Big Daddy used to point to each of the photos and say, "Who is that?"
The baby's answers were: John, Paul, George ... and Bingo. (He liked that song, B, I, N, G, O and Bingo was his name-O.)
About the same year, we were stuck in heavy traffic. The baby was safely strapped in his car seat, chewing on his Cheerios. Someone cut Big Daddy off and he muttered and slapped the steering wheel.
The baby said, "Yeah, what the buck are you doing?"
The baby's answers were: John, Paul, George ... and Bingo. (He liked that song, B, I, N, G, O and Bingo was his name-O.)
About the same year, we were stuck in heavy traffic. The baby was safely strapped in his car seat, chewing on his Cheerios. Someone cut Big Daddy off and he muttered and slapped the steering wheel.
The baby said, "Yeah, what the buck are you doing?"
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
In Bed Again
When The Baby was little, the husband traveled quite a bit. Baby and I would make our popcorn or our bowls of ice cream and crawl in my bed to watch tv. It sounds mundane but those were the magical times.
The night before I left for college, I crept into my parents bed. I needed that embrace.
College is looming. I've stopped counting months and weeks. I am now counting days. I want popcorn and a stupid movie. I want one more night with the baby snuggling in my bed.
The night before I left for college, I crept into my parents bed. I needed that embrace.
College is looming. I've stopped counting months and weeks. I am now counting days. I want popcorn and a stupid movie. I want one more night with the baby snuggling in my bed.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
The He-Man Women Haters Club
When the Baby was little, my parents used to babysit a lot. Movies were a great distraction and The Little Rascals was a favorite. Later, the Baby and my dad started fishing trips -- no girls allowed. They still call it the "He-Man Women Haters Club."
I feel the same passion about girl trips. No boys allowed. If they were allowed to join us, someone would want a sandwich; someone would want to discuss the golf game. Someone would change the channel during a great Lifetime movie right when we are ready for the man to get his just reward in the end.
When Big Daddy and I travel together, we have a great time. He gets the remote control and we take care of each other. When I travel without him, I get the remote control and I watch Lifetime to my heart's content.
I'm pretty sure I'll never be invited on the fishing trip.
I feel the same passion about girl trips. No boys allowed. If they were allowed to join us, someone would want a sandwich; someone would want to discuss the golf game. Someone would change the channel during a great Lifetime movie right when we are ready for the man to get his just reward in the end.
When Big Daddy and I travel together, we have a great time. He gets the remote control and we take care of each other. When I travel without him, I get the remote control and I watch Lifetime to my heart's content.
I'm pretty sure I'll never be invited on the fishing trip.
Monday, July 9, 2007
A Font of Useless Information
The baby is headed to college. So are most of his friends. My helper and next-door neighbor is going through freshman orientation today. My elder goddaughter is headed off too. It's such an exciting time for them. I went to college -- I remember.
They are allowed to test out of subjects. This was not an option in my day so I'm a little jealous.
I wonder what I would test out of today. I probably could conjugate a verb. I am sure I could not do a chemistry table, even if you threatened to hack off my fingers -- one by one.
If they had a test about People Magazine I would excel.
They are allowed to test out of subjects. This was not an option in my day so I'm a little jealous.
I wonder what I would test out of today. I probably could conjugate a verb. I am sure I could not do a chemistry table, even if you threatened to hack off my fingers -- one by one.
If they had a test about People Magazine I would excel.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Veterans
I watch the news and I read the newspaper every day. I don't understand this war but I have strong feelings about the men and women who are serving our country.
I live with three veterans. The oldies served our country in WWII and Big Daddy served in Vietnam. The toughest thing I've ever served is a meal.
The baby will be 19-years old next month. Yet, he is still a baby. I look at these people and I'm in awe of their service to this country. In another day, another time, the Baby could be there too. It scares me to death.
Wave your flag and please thank a veteran.
I live with three veterans. The oldies served our country in WWII and Big Daddy served in Vietnam. The toughest thing I've ever served is a meal.
The baby will be 19-years old next month. Yet, he is still a baby. I look at these people and I'm in awe of their service to this country. In another day, another time, the Baby could be there too. It scares me to death.
Wave your flag and please thank a veteran.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A Father's Day Salute
Today is Father's Day. Another Hallmark holiday, but I'll play along. If your heart's in the right place, you don't need someone to remind you to honor your father. You do it every day.
I miss Wild Bill. I miss Pa.
I salute the Unabomber and Big Daddy. They are great fathers. I salute all of my friends who have suffered the baseball games, the PTA, the missed curfews and the backtalk. I know your children and they are wonderful.
The baby is a great son and a great brother. I suspect he'll make an amazing father. I'm simultaneously crossing my fingers, knocking on wood and saying a prayer that it won't be anytime soon.
I salute all of you who have lost a father. Let the memories give you some grins.
Most of all, I salute my dad.
I miss Wild Bill. I miss Pa.
I salute the Unabomber and Big Daddy. They are great fathers. I salute all of my friends who have suffered the baseball games, the PTA, the missed curfews and the backtalk. I know your children and they are wonderful.
The baby is a great son and a great brother. I suspect he'll make an amazing father. I'm simultaneously crossing my fingers, knocking on wood and saying a prayer that it won't be anytime soon.
I salute all of you who have lost a father. Let the memories give you some grins.
Most of all, I salute my dad.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Baby
It's been brought to my attention that the 18-year old probably doesn't enjoy being referred to as "the baby." This comes from the person who still considers me her baby.
I was reading about the 20-year anniversary of the movie, Dirty Dancing. The main character was named Frances, but everyone called her "Baby." As nicknames go, this one seems flattering and endearing.
The baby says that all old people read the obituaries, check the weather continuously and do the crossword. I'm officially an oldie! Have you ever noticed how many obituaries include a ridiculous nickname? How is there any dignity in listing someone as John "Buzz Saw" Doe? Ok, I made that one up but I have seen many more that were equally stupid.
The husband sometimes calls me "Babydoll." (When I'm annoying him he has other names that are not quite as flattering.)
I think it's an honor to be someone's "baby."
I was reading about the 20-year anniversary of the movie, Dirty Dancing. The main character was named Frances, but everyone called her "Baby." As nicknames go, this one seems flattering and endearing.
The baby says that all old people read the obituaries, check the weather continuously and do the crossword. I'm officially an oldie! Have you ever noticed how many obituaries include a ridiculous nickname? How is there any dignity in listing someone as John "Buzz Saw" Doe? Ok, I made that one up but I have seen many more that were equally stupid.
The husband sometimes calls me "Babydoll." (When I'm annoying him he has other names that are not quite as flattering.)
I think it's an honor to be someone's "baby."
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