Today, he is headed to an appeal hearing.

He left his previous job (one that lays him off every winter) and started working for another company. This company had similar work, but it was different every day. There was less outdoor/in the mud/heavy lifting involved. The money was slightly better, the people – for the most part- nicer, and best of all……he liked it. Every day, he came home tired, but happy. This was a son I hadn’t seen in a while. Every day I thanked God that things were going well for him.

Just after the holidays….within a day or two of breaking up with his girlfriend AND failing his driver’s test….he was fired.

He had been told that part of his job wasn’t done. He claimed that the boss hadn’t told him about that part, but he went ahead and did it. A co-worker went to the boss and told him that Son bitched and moaned and said that he wasn’t a mind reader and that the boss was an ass. Son denied that ever happened and I believe him (“Mom, I liked that job and the makeup work wasn’t that big of a deal”)  Boss said he didn’t need an employee who couldn’t take direction and said that “it just wasn’t working out.”

Son was devastated.

Anyway, he was advised to see if he was eligible for unemployment benefits. Department of Labor told him yes and so he applied and began receiving benefits. A few weeks ago, on the last day that he could possibly appeal, the boss did exactly that. Today, it will be decided if the boss was wrong, or if Son has to repay the money received. Of course, in the two months between the firing and the appeal notice, Son had paid his bills. The money is not there.

Can things get any shittier for him? Yes. It will be bad if he needs to come up with this money. Of course, we will help him out, by paying back most if not all of the debt. Son will take the help but not be one bit happy about it. That means that he will owe his father, something that is, in his book, worse than root canal. He will work on weekends for free to pay us back. He will clean gutters, wash trucks and whatever ‘bitch work’ happens to come up.

I don’t know if it’s worse on him to be doing it, or on me watching and knowing that it really isn’t his fault.

Please think good thoughts.

****The latest: Boss never showed up, never cancelled with the court. Son took off a day of work (that he needed) just to be told “never mind”. Does this mean the appeal is dismissed? Not a clue, but his current boss says that the court frowns on that shit and most likely will rule in Son’s favor. God I hope so!!!! Thanks for your positive energy and it wouldn’t hurt to ask to keep it coming. Love you all!!

It’s quiet here. My dinner is in the crockpot, laundry is done, as well as paperwork. I’m just chilling and trying to decide what book I want to start.

There are a couple of things going on around here that I’m not at liberty to discuss that involve my kids. I just want to respect their privacy. Both are preparing to become Logan’s godparents and that is a good thing. Logan has learned to roll and he has quite a sense of humor. Babygirl is home for the week for Spring Break.

Sooooo……what else? Hmmm…..nothing else. I’ve always felt that no news is good news. If there was something wrong going on, I’d be bitching or crying about it, so there’s that, right?

What’s new with you?

As I looked around, I saw other things. Kitchen items that I saved for Son1. He didn’t need them, but when I tried to get rid of them, Son2 protested with the argument that he or Babygirl would need them.  Other kitchen items are mine, too big for storage in my tiny kitchen.

But there are still more than a few boxes and bins. These are mine and I want everything in them.

Over the 31 years of being married, I have received some awesome gifts. I have quite a few items of Native American pottery and kachina dolls. They used to be displayed on our entertainment center, but when we got our flatscreen attached to the wall, they were packed away. Right now, my brother is displaying his own collection of pottery and I am jealous. I am also very fond of snow globes. I have several, some for certain holidays and some for every day. Still…..nowhere to display them.

And pictures! Don’t get me started on the thousands of pictures of family and friends that I have. I have lots of wall space, but since this is a rental home, I hesitate to put up shelves or hang frames. I had finally gotten two printer’s box shelves filled with a teeny glass menagerie but it was removed to make room for the tv.

Every day I watch the home makeover shows that tell me to display the things that I love. But where? How? I told Hub’s that I would like a curio cabinet for Christmas. I don’t know where it would fit, but I’d sure as hell try.

What do you do with gifts that you absolutely love? Is your home cluttered with things all over like a mishmash? Or are you artistic, clever, and have an eye for decor? I need help! I’m like a dancer with no rhythm. I have the tools, just no clue as to pull them together.

Ideas?

You know….those days when every coupon clipper and chatty Cathy is in front of you in the supermarket. When every file that’s needed ASAP ends up on your desk. When you’re late to work, need gas and get a flat tire all in the one hour before you get to the job. We’ve all had one. Hell, some of us have had more than our fair share.

The worst of all those days for me, is when one of those days (weeksmonths) happen to someone that I love.

Son2 has always had the worst luck. Just as he is about to get insurance, he gets laid off. The next week, he gets sick. He has been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He will get excited about something that he wants so much only to have his plans fall through. Not horrible, earthshattering, bad luck, but shitty all the same.

He got his driver’s permit at the ripe age of 25 (due to the “wrong place at the wrong time” episode) His girlfriend had a car and allowed him to drive as often as possible. He is quite good, attentive and obedient to all the rules of the road. Only one thing…….he can’t parallel park.

He started his exam at Point A. This was a spot that was under extreme scrutiny of the department of transportation. Very few people passed their tests there because the instructors were always afraid that it was an incognito DOT agent. Three times he failed. Once for touching a line while doing a stop sign, once for parking too far away from the curb, and once for parallel parking and taking too many attempts to get it right.

Then his girlfriend broke up with him. Not because of driving, it was other stuff, but still, now he was practicing with various friends here and there. There is no “regular” car for him to practice with, and he is intimidated by Hub’s jag.  All the cars are sedans, and relatively small. I would assume that would be easy for him. But what do I know?

Every month I watch him head out the door with a look of trepidation. I pray for this to be the time that he passes.

Every month I watch him return with his head hung and a look of defeat in his eyes.

His one employer hired him back as business is picking up again. His pay is lower than it ever was before. When he asked the boss why, he was told that as soon as he gets his license, he will be able to get his own truck and a raise. There was alot on the line this time.

Today we did it again, this time at Point B. Everybody passes at Point B.

First, his friend’s car didn’t have the right insurance papers with him. (Strike one- ineligible car) He was told to get another car and they would let him test today anyway. He got his cousin’s car and got ready again. As they went over his paperwork, it was noticed that he needs his physical updated. (Strike two-but the instructor made that “go away”.)  He did the test and did a great job even though he had never driven that car before. HOWEVER….He failed parallel parking….again. (Cousin’s car is higher in the back and he couldn’t judge how much room he had. Instructor said “sorry dude. All cars drive the same.”)

Strike three and he was out……once again.

How many times do I have to see that look in his eyes? It is so hard. What do I say?  No matter what I say, he hears “loser”. His younger sister and cousins are driving around.  They are in school still and I know it stings for him to be asking for rides when he needs one.

I’m not even sure I am conveying what I feel. I’m  so disappointed FOR him. He tries so hard to get his life to a better place.  As soon as he gets a foothold, the world throws him a curve.

Sometimes the world needs a punch in the junk.

You may not know that I spend every Friday with him. I get so excited about Friday’s arrival that sometimes I can’t sleep on Thursday night or else I wake up far too early. Each week I take my coupons along to clip, a crossword or two from the Sunday papers, or my kindle. Quite often I bring them home again, untouched. He is almost rolling over, almost teething. He definitely laughs and talks to me. He anticipates “3″ as in “1-2- THREE!” He is a bright sun in my week.

You may know that I just celebrated a birthday.

You may not know that it was my fiftieth. I spent time with friends which is always a great time. I was taken out to dinner with my kids, husband and best friend and her husband. It was better than any of us had anticipated. It has been far too long since we have included the bestie and her hubs in an intimate celebration. I’m glad they were invited!

You may know that I have missed Babygirl since she returned to school.

You may not know just how much I missed her. I didn’t even realize it until I saw her when she came home on Friday. For once, I didn’t break the hug first. I breathed in the smell of her hair and her scalp…something I haven’t done in years. I found myself just watching her when she wasn’t looking. I stopped whatever I was doing if I could hear her voice talking to her dad or brother….not listening to the conversation, just to the sound of her voice, her laughter.

You may know that I haven’t been here.

You may not know that I have thought about writing a post, but I am actually quite happy. I tend to post when I am experience a high or a low. I have been quite content with my life. I have enjoyed spending time with my kids. I enjoyed a few days here and there with my husband. I even enjoyed going to the dentist…after far too long since the last visit!

You may know that I miss hearing from you guys.

If you don’t know…..I’m telling you now.

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.