No Grandma Was Better

The Best Superbowl Shuffler To Ever Live
Lorraine Claire Brettman
1924-2006

The best things I remember about my Grandma are hard to quantify. Almost every memory I have of her is a good memory. A fun memory. A loving memory. But I'll leave it to a top 10 list for now.

10. No grandma went skinny dipping more at her cottage on the lake. And no one took tripping over a tree root, falling flat on her face, and losing her towel better than Gram. And she never even dropped the soap.

9. No grandma ever sang "A Bushel and a Peck" better. I can't remember all the words, but I can still hear her singing it.

8. No grandma had better candy dishes. Gummy bears and jolly ranchers for us, licorice snaps and licorice buttons for her. Thank goodness she knew the difference between "grandma candy" and "kid candy".

7. No grandma paid better for such mundane tasks as raking the leaves, picking up life jackets, sweeping a sidewalk, or picking up sticks in the yard. She was paying 2006 money in 1986. And she knew it and enjoyed it.

6. No grandma enjoyed dirty jokes as much as she did. Or had more jokes of her own about her "ample bossoms". Dinner was always a riot, especially if you added a glass or two of wine into the mix.

5. No grandma would tell you that buying Breyer Model horses was a "good investment" as much as my grandma would. She loved me and my horse obsession that much. She appreciated the painstaking process of weighing the purchase of a appaloosa war pony against the buckskin mustang stallion. And no matter which one I chose, she agreed that it was the best choice.

4. No grandma ever attended more horse shows wearing polyester black pants in 90 degree heat for hours on end, only to see her only granddaughter at the time ride in one 10 minute class. Nor did any complain less when a bee flew up said black polyester horseshow attending pantleg and stung her.

3. No grandma made Christmas more fun or Birthdays more fun. We got more presents from Grandma than all other family members combined, and they were always BIG. Not expensive, but you knew which packages were from Grandma. When everyone else tried to fit stuff in a box, Gram bought the gifts that were impossible to wrap. She wrapped them anyway, and with gusto.

2. No grandma loved us more. From the hugs she gave us where you could disappear in her cleavage, to the bags of candy when she came to visit, to the weeks spent at the cottage during the summer with us, she was overflowing with love for her grandkids. And we loved her back.

1. No grandma ever Superbowl Shuffled the way my Gram could. And no one ever will again.

Godspeed, Gram. I hope your baking on a beach in Hawaii, getting fanned by a sun-bronzed surfer and drinking lots of Mai Tais, grooving on to Don Ho singing "Tiny Bubbles". You will be loved and missed forever.

Run, Forest, Run!!

Nothing is more fun that chasing butterflies in a big grassy field. Except maybe chasing SIX butterflies in a big grassy field. Ahhh, the simple things that make a two year old happy.

How Do You Spell Relief? P-L-A-Y-D-A-T-E

Today, we've turned that corner of "oh man, is hubby's trip over yet" to "thank God it's almost over!". Of course, that's optimistic. There are still 8 days to go. But still, that's waaay fewer than 14.

Thankfully, today was another beautiful day, so we planned an outing at my sister-in-laws. A couple hours of playing with cousins' toys and running like a madman at the cool new park down the street. Factor in a phone call from Daddy the night before, and we have a sleeping kid at 10:45 pm.

I know some may think "Your TWO year old is just going to bed??". Oh, believe me, I had hoped for a 9pm bedtime tonight, but tonight was Grandma's night. She doesn't believe in bedtime routine. And last night, after not wanting to nap all day, little E fell asleep face first on the floor at 5:50pm. Sigh. Last night was tiring, too. But tonight, victory! Tonight, my little boy who is cooperative and almost happy to go to bed is back, even if it was at 10:30pm. That, in itself, is a blessing.

Hopefully, from here on out, bedtime is back to normal. God, I hope so. So I'm going to kick back, have a glass of wine, watch a little Cobert Report, and be on my way to dreamland.

Night all!

Day 473

Dear Diary,

Today is day 473 with my husband out of town. It has been the longest 473 days of my life.

Ok, well, that's what it feels like. Today is really day 3, and it's killing me. Literally, I'm losing my mind.

Today, I had my first meltdown. The kind of meltdown that comes from being overwhelmed and underslept and utterly frustrated. And I wrote an email to my husband, who I'm sure now thinks I'm on the verge of committing suicide, detailing the frustrations and breakdowns of the day. My neighbors, if they just heard me scream through the walls in a somewhat satanic voice "GO TO FREAKIN' SLEEP" may not be able to look me in the eye tomorrow. Because after putting little E. to bed for the FOURTH time, and having him sob for the FOURTH time at QUARTER TO MIDNIGHT, I freakin' had it.

So, my last attempt to be a good mom and to get my child to go to sleep was to yowl in my deepest, maddest voice. And it worked. So, of course, now I feel like Bad Mommy, so I came downstairs and sobbed and wrote a pathetic email to my husband, and a good fifteen minutes into my cry, I finally feel normal again. But for the love of God, are the two weeks up yet????

Of course, my son picks the worst days ever not to nap, today being one of them. I have four thousand things to do before a fundraiser in the morning, and of course, no time to do them. But even without the nap, I thought, "Oh good! An early night." Yeah, right.

So my two year old was awake from 7:45am to 11:45pm today, without a nap. Which meant my sanity drained somewhere around 2pm and never got a chance to recharge. I don't know how single moms do it. I have no idea. Nor do I ever want to know. Because although my husband isn't around all day, just the fact, just the IDEA of him coming home to us makes days like today better. But I still have to wait 11 days for that. I don't know if I can do it. I really don't.

Thankfully, tomorrow my mom is watching my son while I run this fundraiser, so I don't have to handle both simultaneously. Of course, there are other annoyances I must endure that will leave me short on patience and sanity by the time I pick him up. I'm mentally preparing for picking up an exhausted kid and having him fall asleep in the car on the way home at 6pm, waking up in our driveway completely recharged for another night of "Anti-sleep".

Please tell me when day 14 is here. Please.

An Oriental Headache

My head hurts so bad that it's making me nauseous, but seeing as I haven't written anything in a while, I thought I could muddle through with this blaring pain in my head. All for you.

Things have been beyond crazy around here, and the lasts few days were spent preparing for my hubby's annual trip to the Orient. Is he Oriental, you ask? No. It just so happens he works for a company that makes most of it's product in the Orient, so they have a showroom there. This year, the showroom is moving to a bigger location, so instead of leaving me for 10 days with an insane 2 year old and 3 dogs, he's leaving us for 14 days. And every extra hour really feels like an extra day. But I digress...

So, every year, hubby goes to the Orient and brings back a trinket or two that he thought was cool. He works 14 hour days while he's there, so there usually isn't time for any sort of fun sight-seeing or shopping, but he usually manages to grab a few hours his last day there and at least visit a few small shops in Hong Kong. Now that this is his 5th trip there, the collection is getting bigger. So where do we put all of this stuff in a non-Oriental house?

In the bathroom.

I kid you not. We redid our powder room downstairs simply to house all of his trinkets from the Orient. It's complete with some groovy curvy glass wall shelves and asian-feeling wall border. And, though I was skeptical of the idea at first, I've grown to like that bathroom an awful lot. It's kind of... fun. But without being obnoxious. However, there is a picture of hubby at The Great Wall which weirds him out sometimes. He worries people will think it's weird that there is a picture of him in the bathroom at all. But most people don't seem to mind. It's not like it's a 8x10 or anything like that.

Anyway, today is day 1 of 14, and I already have a screaming headache. It may be because I drank half a bottle of wine last night (thanks Sam!), but really, I think I stress myself out when he leaves. Of course, the last time he left and I had a bad headache, my son was born 8 months later. Surprise! But I'm pretty sure this time it's simply stress.

I'll try to post more since my evenings will be full of tv and fast dinners and a lack of husband for the next 2 weeks. And full of headaches. Lots of headaches. Yikes.

And Baby Makes Three

Yep, I'm going to be an aunt! I'm already an aunt by marriage, but now I'm going to be an honest-to-goodness blood aunt. Woohoo!!

My brother and his wife came to the house on Friday night, with falsified story in hand about how they were in the town next door to see a friend's new house, and wanted to see if they could stop by since they were in the area. Of course we were. Where else would parents of a 2 year old be on a Friday night at 8pm? Out? Heck no!

So my brother and his wife walk through the door, and my SIL unzips her sweatshirt and, in a way, flashes me. Beneath her sweatshirt is a t-shirt that reads "Baby Under Construction." It took me a second, thinking she was advertising the fact that they have been trying to conceive, and then the lightbulb went off.

Told everyone the same day that she peed on the stick and the plus sign showed up. Made me nervous for them after reading Speckblog's post regarding false positive's , but I figure that luck will be with them, and all will go well. And if it doesn't, she will have a huge support system because, the next night, the groom of the wedding that my brother stood up in announced it to the entire reception. Yep. 200 people knew the day after she peed on the stick.

So, I'm going to be an aunt. I'm so excited. I can't wait to go buy little outfits and spoil the kid rotten as a good auntie should. And the kid's other auntie lives out of state... muh huh huh huh! I have the favorite auntie thing in the bag!

Ass-Kickin' Granny

Low and Behold, Gram don't wanna die. Didn't want to before, doesn't want to now. After 24 hours of antibiotics, Gram turned around. Breathing better, sleeping better, snoring with the best of 'em. She is the living definition of "tough old bird".