Do You Remember The Excitement?

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Do you remember your very first apartment? Do you remember how you felt when you first moved out of your parents’ home and into your own place? I do. I was so happy! I was excited to be able to start living my life. I was thrilled to have a place to call my own. It was so awesome to be able to clean my house when I wanted to clean it, wash dishes when I felt like it, do laundry on my schedule, etc. I could eat when I wanted, cook when I wanted and shop for the groceries I wanted to buy. I could arrange my furniture in my living room just the way I wanted to. I could decorate according to my tastes. I could do what I wanted, without consulting my mother or have her interfere. She still tried but it was my life now and I was happy to start living it!

That’s the feeling I want my daughter to experience. That’s how I want my son and his girlfriend to feel. I want that for them. The excitement, the thrill, the freedom.

For months now, I’ve had both children back home. My daughter and her son, now age 15 months, and my son, his girlfriend and their baby girl, who is now 10 months old…add to that my dad, 4 cats, 2 ferrets and an iguana, all under one roof. This house is very small and I’m not sure I’m going to make it! Don’t get me wrong. I love them all dearly. I will always worry about them no matter what.

They really do need a place of their own so they can live their own lives without me always being there to help them, clean up after them, guiding them. I need them to be independent. I need them to be free.

I need my life back! I need to feel excited about cleaning my house again. I need to feel free to do “my own thing” again. Is that selfish? It feels that way sometimes but then other times I feel like “Hey, I deserve to live my life now. I’ve been busy taking care of them for a long time. I feel like now it’s my turn.” Is that so wrong?

I Must Be Deaf

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Hot and humid. Air conditioner is on. Washer and dryer are both going. My grandson is banging his toys on the big aluminum bowl I gave him to play with. I’m at the kitchen sink with the water running trying to clean up the mess my daughter made when she cooked dinner. There’s a fan blowing the cool air from the front room to the kitchen just so I don’t melt while doing dishes. Other family members are doing what they normally do. The tv is on; time for Shepard Smith on Fox News. It’s louder than usual so we can hear it over the air conditioning. Household noise. Just can’t get away from it especially in a small house.

Dad walks through the kitchen talking, trying to tell me something he just heard on the news. I can’t hear him. He repeats what he said, coming back through the kitchen. If he would just stand still and near me I just might be able to hear him. I still can’t hear all of what he said. He gets frustrated and says “nevermind.” He thinks I have a hearing problem. He talks softly. Sometimes he’s moving from one room to another while talking. This has happened so many times before. I have tried to get through to him that I can’t hear him through the running water, washer, dryer, tv, fan, air conditioning, etc.

I guess I must be deaf.

Where’s Criss Angel When You Need Him?

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A few nights ago, I dreamed that I was in dire need of a vacation. I just needed to get away. In fact, I wanted to just disappear. I’m really feeling this in reality so I can understand why those feelings came out in a dream.

The funny thing about the dream is that Criss Angel was there. (If you don’t know who Criss Angel is then you need to look him up…. He’s the ultimate illusionist!) Anyway, I wanted so much to disappear and Criss Angel was happy to oblige. He directed me to a very large, refrigerator-sized cardboard box. He helped me climb inside and closed the box. I heard some mumbo-jumbo and then it was completely silent. It felt as though I was floating. I felt no fear, no pain, no aggravation, no anxiety whatsoever. I was at peace. I was happy and calm. I had no worries.

Then I woke up. Those warm, calm feelings were gone. It was time to get up and face another day filled with stress and worry.

Now when I’m feeling like I want to just disappear, I ask myself (and sometimes aloud) “Where’s Criss Angel when you need him?”

Finding The Words…..

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This post is a long time coming. It’s been months since I was able to find the words to describe the feelings of hurt, dissapointment, fear, anger and frustration that I have been feeling.

S.R. made some bad choices and is paying the price. She has learned the hard way that making the absolute wrong choice will lead to not only personal consequence but also to more stress and more financial worries. I hope this is the beginning of the end of her problems and not the beginning of more. This I say because she has not realized what I had been hoping she would realize. She is still in love with J. and will stand by him no matter what. He will be in prison until next month and when he is released, S.R. will go with him and take my beautiful grandson with them.

For right now, S.R. and my grandson D.M. are staying with me. I am loving every second of it, even through the constant messes and disasters S.R. leaves everywhere she goes! Yes, it’s her who makes the messes, not the baby! D.M. is 7 months old now and he is the most beautiful child! He has the brightest, happiest smile and the bluest dark blue eyes! I feel the tears coming as I type because I know soon I won’t see him when I awake in the mornings. He won’t be there to brighten my day. I won’t be able to make him smile or giggle or kick his little Fred Flintsone feet in absolute joy! I won’t see many of his firsts…..

On the bright side, I have witnessed many of D.M.’s firsts! The first time he started walking in his walker, his first visit to a pet store, his first day at the park, his first jar of baby food are just a few. I bought him his first swimming pool which he loves sitting in on a hot day and splashing himself. His first sippy cup…..which he’s still trying to master!

I feel so blessed to have him in my life but why must he go away? It’s just life I guess. Children grow up and have children of their own. They move away. It happens every day. That doesn’t make it any easier. I will have my memories and I will pray that not too much time passes between visits.

The Thing About Cats……

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Don’t get me wrong, I love cats. They are my favorite animal and I have 4 of them. I love them all dearly. They all have their own little personalities and they have their own little quirks…these things make them unique and special in my eyes. I love my little furbabies and would miss them dearly if something were to happen to one of them.

Smokie is the handicapped spayed female. She was hit by a car (or kicked by a cow, not sure exactly) and she has very limited eye sight. She is not allowed to go outside without supervision. Kitty (also spayed female) is the baby of the house. She’s almost 2 years old now. She’s psychotic, has red eyes and can turn on you in a split second. She is not to be trusted! On the other hand, she’s scared of everything that moves and the outdoors. She stays inside and doesn’t ever want to go out. Fine by me. One less cat to let in and out.

Fuzz and Korn are the males (neutered, shh don’t tell them!) and they usually go outside at night, which I don’t especially like but they are very wise and have a keen sense of danger. They come in the house in the morning and sleep all day until 5pm, which is their dinner time and they always seem to know the exact time!

Last night, for some reason Fuzz and Korn both stayed inside. Maybe it was just too cold for them at 25 degrees or so. It’s not like they haven’t been out in the cold before but maybe they’re just getting too old for it. Who knows.

The thing is I woke up this morning with Fuzz looking at me as if he wanted to go outside. I figure he probably does have to go out for a potty break. I ease my way out of bed and he’s waiting for me in the middle of the living room when I get there. I go to the door and open it, calling for him to go outside. He sits there and stares at me and then the door. I call him a few more times and then I just give it up. I figure he’s got something else on his mind. By the time I get to the spot where he sat watching me, he makes a mad dash for the door like he wants out! I was very aggrivated at this point but I went back to the door and opened it. Again, he just sat there and looked at the door. What the heck? I tell him to “just go outside you little furbrained terd. Stop F***ing with me!” He is finally outside and I’m relieved to have ended this game of his as quickly as I did. Sometimes these games go on all night long! In and out, in and out. One comes in the other wants out….all night long. It drives me insane.

I know, it’s my own fault for putting up with it. Dad tells me to throw their asses out whether they like it or not. Well, I understand that’s what I should do but they are my furbabies. I can’t just throw them outside as if I don’t care that it’s cold out or that there may be a coyote lurking about near the yard. I love them dearly.

And the thing about cats is that they love me unconditionally and their only demands are to be fed and let in and out and in and out and in and out……. What would I do without them? (I would probably be just as crazy so what the heck?)