First off, when Mom-Mom died, it hit me very hard. Upon the phone call, I promptly got a migraine that didn’t let up until I saw her body. I wasn’t sleeping very well at all and even my sleep aids weren’t working. I was depressed, tired and very, very testy. To top it off, the funeral coincided with a dental appointment that Hubs had been waiting for since New Years. He had all but two teeth pulled and this was the day that he was going to be molded for his new plates. Now, I understand that he hasn’t eaten well and he must be starved constantly.  I understand that even after this molding, there was more to be done. But this wasn’t about him. I was hurt and felt betrayed. I stood by him through the loss of both his parents and his grandparents, as well as cousins and friends. I have been blessed to have lost very few of my own dear ones. I needed him now. Finally, all the emotional and physical pain came to a climax and I let him have it. I also cried like I haven’t in a long, long time. He got the point quickly and stepped up. He was like a body guard, not letting issues or people touch me unless I invited them in. I still walked in a daze. I missed my daughter terribly. I cried while folding laundry. I couldn’t even call my best friend to tell her what I was dealing with. I began to scare myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so shattered.

At the funeral, as I saw Mom-Mom in her casket, I realized that it wasn’t her. She was tiny, frail. The woman of my memories was robust, a force of nature. Even in her old age, she was the same. It was just in the last few months that she began to waste away. I said goodbye and tucked a letter under her blanket. I turned away and never looked back. The pain in my head disappeared and I suddenly felt so tired. My entire body relaxed and I  knew it was the stress and grief that had piled on me. I believe she took it away and told me not to look back.

And from the depths of my soul, the grief was lifted. It was to be replaced with joys uncounted.

My son had brought Logan with him to the funeral at my father’s request. The child came into the church and every tear was replaced with such joy! He smiled at everyone. He was held by one great aunt after another. My own cousins gathered around laughing that I had joined the ranks of  ’grandparent’ (only one other out of 27 is a grandparent) Dad had had the best idea by asking for the baby to attend. It was brilliance. The child fussed a tiny bit after an hour and was ready to be fed. My son did that and he was out for a nap.  This was an opportunity to watch my son fully in the Dad-mode. Shenanigans had to work and he was on his own. I was so proud.

I got home from a long, exhausting day and went to bed at 7:30. I woke up at noon the next day.

In this past week, I have been flooded with only good, long lost memories of my grandmother. It makes me smile. I watched Logan Friday and Saturday. They came for dinner on Sunday. I watched Logan again yesterday. Lemme tell ya, a good baby is the best medicine for an aching psyche. I have laughed, and danced my days away. I got together with my best friend and we went shoe shopping. I put on a fun pair of plaid flats….not something that I would normally wear. I ran up and down the aisle of the store laughing. I decided not to spend the money, but she insisted on buying them for me,  stating “Chrissy, if they can make you that happy, it would be a sin to deny it”.
She was ri– , ri—……..correct.

So…..after the upheaval and neglect, I expect to spend the day with my doggy boys, bathing and brushing them. I plan on catching up with laundry and finally COOKING!

Life goes on……..

She never drove. Instead she told me which streets ran north and south and which buses ran on even numbered streets. She taught me so well that I can be placed in the middle of Philadelphia and I would still find my way back to her house. She taught me about trolleys, subways and buses, a lesson I needed frequently during my high school years and beyond.

She could make a hell of a roast, with potatoes that were nearly crispy outside and soft on the inside. And her Jewish apple cake was to die for.

She was active in her church, taking time from her evenings to clean the altar, prepare the prayerbooks and vestments. It was her faith that she passed on her daughters and grandkids. They now serve communion and attend rosary nights.

She had friends who never went out without makeup and drank tea, and others who smoked, drank beer and swore like their dockworker husbands. She loved bingo, pinochle, and crocheting. She was always busy with crafts of some kind until she was betrayed by her eyes, fingers and finally her mind.

She told me about my grandfather’s family. They are stories that much later, I shared with my cousins only to learn that I was the only one ever told! But then, she had shared with them stories that I had never known.

This week, my Mom-Mom passed away. All last week, I was angry and wanted so badly to lash at someone, anyone. I wanted to hit-no, HURT- someone so that they would hurt as badly as I did. I couldn’t put my finger on what was behind such aggression.  When I got the phone call from my mom that Mom-Mom had died, it was like a magic wand had been waved. The anger disappeared to be replaced by relief and sadness. I finally realized that the anger had come just when I heard that Mom-Mom wasn’t doing well and had been placed on morphine for her comfort. I knew that  morphine meant that the end was near. I was angry that she was being taken from me.

This week with Logan, I held him and sang to him a song my Mom-Mom used to sing to me. I held him on my lap and read to him. I imagine my own grandmother did the same with me. Now I am a grandmother. I wonder if I will live long enough to see Logan’s grandson.

Less than five years short of a century is quite a lifetime.

Mom-Mom, I’m sorry for all the things left unsaid, all the time wasted. I loved you always, and I’ll miss you terribly.

Yesterday, we spent our first whole day together. I want to remember every detail of it.  You see, it was the first time that I actually felt like your mom-mom. We were alone. I was yours and you were mine.

I walked in the door and whispered “Hello” because I didn’t know if you were asleep. I was greeted by your wonderfully loud squeal that sounded so much like “HI!”  It was the first of so many smiles you gave me. There you were, in your bassinet, all smiles, waves, and kicks. I can’t remember ever seeing a more joyful baby. Have I told you how beautiful you are?

You sat in your little chair and we played. You talked to your giraffe and the little froggie. You are a happy baby.

We lay on your play blanket and even made a fort. You are too young for a fort, but who cares? You laughed and cooed. I pretended that I couldn’t find you, asking “Where’s Logan?”  You responded by kicking your feet and squealing. Were you playing too? Were you calling to me? It felt that way.

I fed you and you looked into my eyes while you ate. You held my fingers as your eyes grew heavy. Slowly you grew ‘bottle drunk’. I burped you held you through your hiccups. You threw up on me and I was okay with that. It made you feel better and the smiles returned. I changed your diaper and you were happy through that too. I found your ticklish spots and you giggled for me. It was a beautiful sound.

Eventually you slept and what a peaceful baby you were. Did you dream of playing with me? Did you dream of chasing your dog, Maggie? Or did you dream of Mommy and Daddy and playing with Jazzy? You smiled often while you dreamed.

You woke up and fussed. I could tell your belly bothered you. I felt sad, and wondered if I were to blame. Did you get too much air? Did you not burp enough? You cried. I ran the faucet and you calmed down. Every five minutes or so you did that for half an hour.  But when you calmed down, you cooed and smiled. Finally you farted. My lord, child, you sounded like your dad.  Then you pooped.

And pooped.

And farted and pooped some more.

I waited until I was sure you were finished and when I removed your diaper, you took my breath away. Goodness, you make big smellies!  And then I noticed that it was up your back too. When I took off your onesie, I smeared it in your hair too and you needed a bath. Good thing mommy came home because suddenly I needed extra hands!  But I learned how much you love your bath.  You happily kicked and squealed as your mommy cleaned you and washed your hair. And you stayed calm as we dressed you afterwards.

All good things must end and our day was one of those good things. Pop-Pop came to pick me up and as we began to drive away, he told me to “stop it”. What was it that he wanted me to stop doing?

I was smiling, ear to ear. Without even realizing it, I was still smiling. You made me so very happy.

I can barely wait until next week when we do this again.

Love,

Mom-Mom.

I am hirsute. All over my arms, and legs I am covered with thick dark hair. It grows very quickly and is very annoying.

Another place that I have hair is my chin (as in beard-ish) and under my nose (as in mustache-ish) I spend lots of time frequently plucking those mother fuckers. I tried waxing and I end up with patches of hair that I have to pluck anyway. I’ve never used the depilatory products on my face, mostly because they were always a waste of time and money to use on my legs.

Before the holidays, I got busy. I didn’t have the time to set aside just to sit and pluck, so I decided “What the hell” and I found myself in the depilatory aisle. So many products and so little difference, except for the price. I decided to go for the CVS brand.

I read the instructions and did my little ‘spot test’. No adverse reaction. Yay! And then I continued.

I used it on a Monday. It actually worked. Only a very small needed to be plucked and I chalked that up to missing a spot in the application. On the whole I was relatively satisfied. The only thing worth mentioning is that by Wednesday, I had flaky skin wherever I had used the product. This was a week before Christmas.  I only needed a tiny bit of plucking maintenance.

Flash forward to the new year.

I let the hair grow in a tad. I haven’t been out of the house much and therefore, I let myself go. Last night, I decided that since I was still awake at nine o’clock, and everyone else was in bed, I would take advantage of the time and do it once again.

There is one sentence in the instructions that I failed to commit to memory:

Yep. That says it all. If I had remembered that, I wouldn’t have ended up with this:

I cleaned the cream off and applied the skin soother just like the directions said to. Yes, it stung a bit. I wrote that off as perhaps I left it on too long. I checked the clock and guess what? I actually took it off after less time than recommended. It was a little pink but whatever.

This morning I woke up to that. ^^^  I look like my husband beat me or something!  It still stings to the touch but aloe gel has calmed the skin down alot.  Now what? Can I still complain about this even though they snuck that little caveat in there?

I think I’ll ask my hubby for laser hair removal next year for Christmas.

Where have I been? you may ask. I’ve been around. The holidays took up a good bit of time. Family took up a good bit more. On the whole, December was an awesome month. I just didn’t blog about it that’s all.

**I spent a few days with Logan without the distraction of family. He slept most of the time of course, but I got to snuggle him.

**December 8th was my mom’s birthday. I didn’t forget it. But I DID forget that it was her SEVENTIETH! Holy shit! What kind of daughter am I to forget that?!  I’ll tell you what kind. The kind that also forgot that December 9th was Mom and Dad’s FIFTIETH anniversary. My brothers and sister gave me a lot of grief for that. According to them, since I am the oldest, it is MY responsibility to keep track of these things. I should have planned something big for that. Well, the sibs and I did discuss this back in August. The problem was that work was slowing down for my brothers, my sister wanted something huge with a small price tag and it was too close to the holidays, so the idea was scrapped. We all ended up being at Mom and Dad’s house that night anyway with champagne and Logan. We all agreed to go out for dinner the following week. Joe and his wife weren’t in a place to afford going, but I offered to cover his bill as his birthday was the day after the dinner. Dan offered to pay for Mom and Dad. We went out to dinner-all four of us kids and our spouses as well as Babygirl and Son1. We had a wonderful evening. We sat drinking and laughing and finally waiting and waiting for the bill. Finally my brother Dan asked the waitress to bring it, as we were all ready to leave. She said it had already been paid. My husband paid for it all. All he asked was that they cover the tip generously. And they did. When I asked why he had done that, he said because he knew it meant alot to me to be with the family without stress. And he was right. He told everyone Merry Christmas.

**I spent time with Babygirl and my girlfriends in Center City Philadelphia. We saw a traditional Holiday light show, did more than a little shopping and did lunch/dinner at a very nice restaurant. It was a wonderful day full of laughter and friendship. It is something that we hope to make a tradition for ourselves.

**Christmas Eve was the usual family night. Lots of people, lots to drink and the ONLY time that I went to bathroom, my nephews banged on the door yelling “Aunt Chrissy! Santa Clause is here and he’s looking for YOU!”  What the hell? I ran out of the bathroom to see him standing in the middle of my living room, speaking not a word to anyone in the house. He leaned to me and said “Merry Christmas, bitch!”  It was my friend Nancy dressed up. I laughed so hard my sides ached. It was a wonderful cherry on the top of the evening. I mean, really! How often does anyone get called a ‘bitch’ by Santa?

The ring on the top is the fake. He did a good job of matching it, no?

**Christmas came and I got gems. I had bought a fake gem ring to wear with an outfit and I loved it. Unfortunately, it was beginning to tarnish and I was sad about that. Hubs remedied that by getting me a real one. I love it.  I also love Logan. He is at a cute age where he imitates sticking his tongue out, he laughs and smiles constantly. He certainly brings a new level of joy to the holidays.

**The Friday after Christmas, Hubs had his teeth pulled. This has been a long time coming. It was his Christmas gift to himself. Unfortunately for me, he got all but two pulled and it took alot out of him. And so, I am paying for all the joys he has given me by nursing him through this. We are spending every waking hour together…..every…..waking……hour.  I can’t wait for retirement…<–insert sarcastic voice here!

So you see, my friends, I am here, I am busy and I am happy. I just can’t believe that I went almost a whole month away from here. I hope your holidays were full of joys and family. I wish you love, laughter and prosperity in the new year.

I love you all.

The house has been pretty clean since Thanksgiving. I finally caught up on laundry and now I’ve gotten the Christmas spirit. I thought that maybe I’d put up some decorations and after vacuuming up the ever-present glitter and styrofoam, I’d shampoo the carpets this weekend.

Alas, dear reader, this is not to be. Lemme ‘splain….

I was curled up in my bed patiently waiting for hubs to go to work so that I could get up and get busy. The dogs were snuggled up with me, the room was dark and the blankets were toasty. Hubs called the dogs to go out and they bounded from the bed. I found their warm spots and sighed with happiness. I began to doze….

“Chris! Wake up. Bandit doesn’t have a skin irritation. The dogs have fleas!”

I’m awake now!

But they’re INDOOR dogs! They are rarely near other animals! How could this happen??

Together, Hubs and I ran down the list of “maybes”.  Maybe a holiday guest brought them in on their clothes? Maybe on Hub’s work clothes? Maybe the UPS guy when he brought in that big box the other day? Or maybe…the vet’s when Mordecai got his snippage…..exactly one month ago? I tend to doubt that one because Bandit was itchy before that.

No matter. I still have to get started. I strip the bed, the couches, and gather up the dogs’ beds and pillows. I gather the throw blankets, the sneakers that have been sitting next to Bandit’s bed.

Now I have run the shoes and pillows through the dryer. The washer is full of sheets, soon to be followed by the blankets. Hubs will get some jobs started and return with flea dip, powder and spray. Of course he will leave to finish work while I deal with this mess. The laundry I was happy to be done with, has been replace by mountains of new laundry.

My body itches. Not a single bite anywhere to be found on me, but I itch nonetheless. I think of how the dogs cuddled with me in my bed, on the couches. I think of them rolling on the floor, hiding behind the couches as they played with the kongs. As I walk through the rooms of the house, all I can think of is how the dogs did “this” over “there” and now I should clean there. I am exhausted already.

Now I will still be vacuuming and shampooing my carpets.

Just not for the happy reasons.

See that group of people? We go back. Further than high school. Further than grade school. My brothers and sister are in that group. I’ve known them all their lives. The others? They shared cribs and playpens with my siblings. I babysat them. I changed and fed them. We lived next door to each other, around the corner. We knocked on bedroom walls and giggled in the middle of the night.

I remembered my brother’s first kiss with Debbie. We teased that they would marry someday. Instead they ended up going to prom together.

I remember Anthony eating worms and sticking turtles in his pants.

I was jealous of the Barbie’s and accessories that Donna and Diane had. I had a knock-off  ’fashion doll’.

I played wiffleball with all of those boys in the playground behind our houses.

See the guy front and center in the dark hoodie? His name is Joe and he is the baby. He will be 40 on his next birthday…..if he sees his next birthday.

Joe has cancer. His bills have started rolling in and his insurance has just ended. Isn’t that the way things like this happen? We threw a beef and beer to raise money for those bills.  Tickets were sold out. Raffles and gift auctions raised even more.  There was lots of dancing and drinking and laughter. And food! Good Lord, I’ve never seen so much food! Almost all of it was gone by the end of the night.

More than the money, Joe’s spirits were raised. It’s been forever since all of us were gathered in one room. We hugged each other repeatedly and caught ourselves just staring across the room at each other, smiling with memory.

I remembered our mothers as being taller. Now they are beginning to bend with age. I remembered seeing them coming home after a ‘date night’ with their husbands, slightly flushed and tipsy. Now…..wow, how time flies.

As the holidays come, we will gather with our own families. Maybe one or two will show up at another’s home. We promised to get together more often, but will we? I hate the thought that the next time we will be together, one of us will be missing…..not just somewhere else, but gone.

But damn, it was cool to be little kids again…….if only in our memories.

Around three-ish, I hit the craving of a lifetime. I decided to light a candle and read for a bit. It took me six matches to light that wick. I needed to go into the office for a second pack. There on the desk was an opened pack of cigarettes.  I reached for it and looked inside.

Four cigarettes.

I could easily take one. God knows, I wanted it bad enough. But I didn’t because of something I had read earlier on Twitter. “I gave in and smoked. I will try again tomorrow”. My smoke buddy had fallen. I had answered her comment with “We can do this!”  Remembering that, I broke the smokes and threw them away.

Hubs came home a short time later. It was his bad luck to come in just as another craving struck me.

“Motherfucker! You left cigarettes here! Were you trying to tempt me or test me?!! Wait, don’t answer me! I don’t want to know. I hate you right now!”

He apologized profusely. He couldn’t say enough.

I cursed him up and down. I wouldn’t let him say a word. He asked where paperwork was. I told him to look for himself. He asked if the mail had come. I asked if he saw it on his desk. I made him chicken for dinner. I made it the one way he dislikes it, and I was happy about that.

I hated myself for acting this way. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to deserve this. I wanted to kick my own ass.

He went out after dinner to check on something. He came home after an hour and went to his office. He took a shower and sat next to me on the couch. Just looking at him I could feel that switch flip again. All the sorrow I felt for being a bitch disappeared. I wanted a fight again.

Before I could do something I’d regret, I wanted a shower. I hoped that I could wash away the anger. But a shower meant wetting my hair and that was just one more thing that I didn’t want to deal with.  I looked into the bathroom and was overcome with a sudden desire for a  BATH. I began to run the water.

In my old house, I had one of those big, deep bathtubs on claw feet. I would take a bath as often as possible. Candle, music, head pillow…..the whole nine yards. When we moved, I was once again the owner of a standard tub. It wasn’t as deep. The water barely covered my boobs. My chest and shoulders get cold while the rest of me soaks. I gave up the baths in favor of showers.

Tonight, however, I wanted that bath more than anything….except a cigarette. The peach scented bubble bath I used to use had a layer of dust on it. I no longer have the bath pillow. Undeterred, I poured in the bubbles and watched them foam up.

It smelled heavenly. My body began to relax before I finished undressing. I eased myself in…..and floated away. The candle added an undertone of vanilla to the peach steam filling the room. I lay in the tub soaking, basking in the warmth. After about forty-five minutes, I was pruney enough and tried to get out of the water. No bath mat plus bubble bath equals a slippery tub. I needed help so I called for Hubs.

“I need someone to hang onto. It’s too slippery and I’m afraid that I’ll fall.”

He came into the bathroom and placed a towel on the side of the tub. I pulled myself up and began to step out of the water. He held my arm with one hand and reached for a second towel with his other hand. I was totally out of the shower and he began to gently dry my body. It felt so good. I was like putty.

“I didn’t leave those cigarettes on purpose. I’m sorry you felt like I let you down.”

“No, I’m sorry I took things out on you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was itching for a fight and you were the closest  to me. I’m sorry.”

We kissed and moved into the bedroom.

Because Babygirl still reads my posts, I will spare her the details of what her parents did next. (made love…LOL)

This is the reward for thirty-one years of marriage. He can take what I dish out. Today I was a raving lunatic. This will get better. I know it will. It will pass.

But our love for each other will not pass.

I am his lunatic.

Truth-I hate housework.

Consequence-I tried to fit something in my cabinet and discovered that the shelf liner had been pushed to the back, thus creating a lump that took up space. My ‘full’ cabinet wasn’t as full as I thought. Now I have to clean my cabinets.

Truth-Boredom is my eating trigger.

Consequence-I find myself getting bored and then I pace. Suddenly I look up and realize that I am in the kitchen looking for a snack. This is horrible because my house has lots of chips, cookies, ice cream and candy. I am not the only that eats that stuff so I can’t just hide it or stop keeping it in the house.

Truth-I like to cook.

Consequence-I made two different things to eat for dinner (for myself) and there are leftovers that just don’t taste the same when they’ve been frozen. Now that my desire to cook and eat them has been fulfilled, I find myself looking at the leftovers thinking “I have to eat that before it gets bad.”

Truth- I started smoking again in July. The fact that Hubs knew and was buying me the cigarettes, made me feel less guilty. Less guilty=smoking more.

Consequences- I started the patch on Monday in order to quit. Today is Day 3, or is it #4? I don’t know and I don’t care. I am bitchy as hell. I am cleaning my house, cooking, and eating.

But not smoking……so I guess there’s that.

Today, I got a call from a guy who needed to reschedule an appointment. This isn’t usually a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal in this case either. The big deal stemmed from the attitude I subjected to.

This condescending asshat used words like ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’. There was also, the “Can he call me between 2 and 3? Not earlier because I’ll be at lunch and not later, because I’ll be going home. I don’t take calls because I will be working at home this evening.”  Worst of all, he said “I’m sure that you can have him call me back. I’d rather talk to him. I’m pretty sure that you’re not the one who can tell me what the scheduling looks like.”

EXCUSE ME?

This guy doesn’t know me from Adam. Who calls a business and talks to the employees like this? Just because we are a small business, it doesn’t give a person the right to assume so much. I guess he doesn’t realize that I wrote his number on a napkin which I promptly used to blow my nose. Too bad his last name was a little too complicated for me to remember. Oh, and as for the Friday afternoon appointment? Hubs will be enticed to stay with me for a little ‘afternoon delight’ and on Saturday, we may need to visit the baby.

Hey, guy! Find someone else to put your fancy flat screen on the wall for you. You wouldn’t be the first one I’ve kicked to the curb. Even millionaires need to learn a little respect when they call this company. We have a reputation for being clean, polite and respectful to all of our customers. We only ask for the same in return.