My Little Bull Frog

My little Bull Frog was born on October 23. He is exactly 1 month, 3 days, 3 hours and 52 minutes old. He’s the first born of my first born and the apple of my eye.

It’s hard work being a Gramma but I love it! I can barely wait until my little Bull Frog laughs at my silly faces, made-up songs and the strange Gramma kisses that he will eventually hate! It’s wonderful seeing this little human being change and grow as the days go by.

I hope to be here for a very long time because I sure don’t want to miss a thing!

Is It Just Me????

Each and every time I have to deal with so-called “professionals” I know I’m going to get pissed about something. It never fails. No one ever does anything right the first time. No one ever does what they say they are going to do. They never do what is expected of them. And they are referred to as professionals?? Not by me.

No one is perfect I know. “Stuff” happens. But “stuff” shouldn’t happen every time — should it?

My dad goes to the doctor for his yearly check-up. He gets a complete blood work up, and the doctor says, “Someone will call you with the results.” He goes home and a week passes. No word. He waits a few more days, still nothing. He calls the doctor’s office and the nurse right away says, “Everything was fine.” My dad asks, “What is my cholesterol?” The nurse says, “It was good.” Dad asked her, “What were the numbers?” He’s ready with pen and paper. She says, “I don’t have the file in front of me.” Obviously, she didn’t have the file in front of her. So, how does she know it’s good then, right? What a joke. Dad, shortly thereafter, found a new doctor.

I took my son to see the surgeon about his hand. They gave him a work release – so he could go back to work, duh. The release form didn’t SPELL OUT that he could go back to work. It listed only a limitation of lifting 10 lbs. or less. His employer is being picky because it doesn’t say specifically that he can go back to work. So I call the surgeon’s office. I have to tell 3 different people the same stinkin’ story before finally the nurse looks up my son’s file and says, “We’ll fax a new one over.” I gave her the number. I wonder if this is even going to be done or if I will have to go there in person to pick it up myself?

I ended up calling a second time, asking if they had faxed the new work release. Nope. Message not received. Guess what? I ended up going all the way to Springfield, to the surgeon’s office to get the dang thing myself! Never would have guessed it huh?


10 Spiders…..

The spiders are coming in the house from every nook and cranny they can find! They must not like the rain! It makes sense. When it rains I come inside too.

I don’t like to kill things but I take exception to flys, fleas, ticks and SPIDERS. Actually, if the spiders stay outside where they belong then I leave them alone. If they come inside MY domain, they are taking their lives into their own hands….feet, legs, whatever.

Last night, every time I turned around there was a stinkin’ spider! I don’t know what kind they were. We call them “chipmunk spiders” only because of the brown stripes they have on their backs that reminds of us of the stripes and coloring of a chipmink. Silly huh?

It started in the morning. Before I could even shower I had to rid the bathtub of, not one but 2 chipmink spiders. Later in the day, there was one crawling up my bedroom door and I know what he was doing! He was going to hide in my room, that’s what he was going to do! S.R. sucked one up in the vacuum tube when she was cleaning her room. Dad was getting ready for bed last night around 10 pm and he found one in the bathroom sink. Then, 4 of those creepy little things, one right after the other, in the living room! Then, right before I went to bed I was spooked by one scampering across the kitchen floor. He must’ve seen what I had done to his other 8-legged friends. Didn’t do much good to run away. Did he really think I was going to go to bed with him still running around in MY domain?

I was afraid to go to bed – were there more of those chipmunk spiders in my house? In my room? I couldn’t sleep for a little while – kept thinking there was something crawling on me. When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamed about Sebastian Bach making fun of Angelina Jolie. He had fake teeth in his mouth and he was doing this thing with his lips. He looked just like her, only with blond hair! Now, why on Earth would I dream something so silly? Beats spiders though. I’m not gonna bitch.

Is It Just Me?

Am I the only one who thinks that keeping a coffee can (previously used as a pee can) under the kitchen sink to collect used cooking oil is disgusting and unsanitary, even if the oil is going to be thrown out?

Am I the only one who thinks that the kitchen sink should be scoured and disinfected after the toilet plunger was used in it?

Am I living with morons or rednecks? What is wrong with these people?

For anyone interested in why the coffee can was used as a pee can: My 72 year old father had a hernia operation and could barely move for a couple days……

Loss of Self Identity

Many years ago, when I was unfortunate enough to get involved with my children’s father, my mother kept telling me “Don’t lose your own identity.” Of course, being young and naive PLUS not wanting to admit my mother just might know what she was talking about, I just ignored the comment. I didn’t even know what the heck she meant by that until later in my life.

I always tried to instill in my children to think for themselves, to be self-sufficient and to stand up for what they believe in. I taught them that what they have to say is important. I taught them to respect others for their thoughts and what they believe. I taught them to be responsible for their own actions. I thought I did a pretty good job until recently.

My daughter, S.R., who is 8 months pregnant with J.’s 5th child – yes, I said 5th – always maintained that she doesn’t want or need anyone to take care of her. She was adamant that she can take care of herself! When I have suggested in the past that she try to get on some kind of aid, she refused because she didn’t want to make things more difficult for J….. (Awww, poor baby. He has 4 little girls with another woman [his wife] that he has to take care of. Waaaaa! Waaaaa! Someone call a Waaaaa-mbulance!) She maintains that she can take care of herself. Well, that IS the way I raised her.

This morning her tune changed. She made a comment about ‘when she quits work soon’ to have the baby, due Oct. 29. I told her that if I were in her position, I would apply for cash aid and food stamps so she can sustain herself until she gets back to work. She quickly said to me, “NO. That’s what J. is for!” I said to her, “You cannot depend on him or anyone else to take care of you and that baby. You need to look out for yourself.” She immediately clammed up and never said another word. I was in such shock that I just left the room for fear I would say something to make matters worse.

Yes, he should step up and take care of her and that baby. He should be coming by to spend time with S.R., but is he? NO. He hasn’t bought anything for that baby. Hell, I’ll bet my last dollar that he hasn’t even been looking for a job! The last S.R. saw him was when he and his buddies hauled the camper off after the storm! She believes everything he says. She believes that he is out looking for a job. She believes he is going to find them a place to live. She believes that he is going to be there for her. He should be, but that doesn’t mean he will be! And he sure hasn’t shown that he is trying.

I sit here now, wondering what the heck happened? She went from a strong willed, opinionated and an independent thinker, to this naive little follower. I don’t know what happened. I’m afraid she is losing her own identity, like I did so many years ago. Take it from me, once lost, it’s a long journey to find your way back to you.