Memorial Day (Krissie)

I am so freaking tired! I was out visiting Sally, and we were on the go every day, it seems. Friday we went out for lunch, wandered around downtown Ann Arbor (me in a rented wheelchair), visited with my god-daughter’s very energetic young sons (and we’ve spent every day with them).

The next morning I got up at seven, packed, went to the airport, got on one plane, flew, got on the second plane, arrived in NH to have Richie drive me back (3 1/2 hours) to Vermont, fell into bed after midnight.

Woke up this morning at 8:00, rushed off to have breakfast with my babies (grandchildren), then we all came back to the house where I gave her the doll I got for her, then we brought all the AG dolls down and had a tea party, and generally chased around after them, having the best time in the world. (While I had tea, Richie and Alex made castles in the sand and then had a battle, until Ali went out and stomped on everything like Godzilla. By that point I was pretty exhausted, but I soldiered on and went down down to the other grandparents’ house while Alex rode his go-kart and Ali splashed in the wading pool with her cousin. She was so tired she kept falling asleep and then waking up again, and I followed (hobbling) her into the house where she played for a while, then when we went out again she asked me to pick her up.

Well, my replaced shoulder is killing me, my knees are getting worse, everything hurt from yesterday crammed into an airplane, but if my granddaughter wants me to carry her I will walk across hot coals for the chance. So I carried her back outside, took her to one bench, and then brought her back to the glider where I wrapped her in a blanket and proceeded to tell her a story of Princess Ali of Nepalistan and her magic bunny, Percival. (No false modesty – I am brilliant at making up long, involved, world-building stories for kids). She fell sound asleep, was down for the count at that point, but I stayed for dinner and then came home, exhausted.

But I’m helping someone put on a lunch today, and I promised to bring bread, and I doubted I’d find good, fresh bread at the store, so I threw the stuff for a Honey-Wheat bread into the bread machine and went to bed. ¬†Woke up at midnight, took the loaf out, put the ingredients in for a buttermilk cornmeal bread, and went back to sleep.

Woke up this morning (far too early), started another loaf (whole wheat potato bread), then drove back down to the farm (the other grandparents) for breakfast. Ali wanted more of the princess Ali story, I gathered a new follower (Leila, Ali’s and Alex’s first cousin), so I sat and talked with all of them (and the grown-ups). I’d given Ali Kate’s old copy of The Paperbag Princess (fabulous book) and it was now her favorite book. She had to hear it every night. Yeah!
(For those who’ve never read it, the Paper Bag Princess ends up wearing a paper bag due to some misfortune, the prince comes to rescue her and says she’s smelly and dirty, and she says “I’ll rescue myself. Who needs a poopy old prince?” or words to that effect.)
Now I’m back home, the third loaf is done, and in ten minutes I go over to BJ’s house to help with a lunch for 20 people, and when that’s done I can come home and crash crash crash.

And that’s absolutely all I am going to do this week. I’m tired!!!!

So, what’s on your agenda? A nice cookout where the men do all the work? Time with grandchildren? I can’t even think about doing another thing – I’m barely hanging on as it is.

But tell me what’s going on. Anyone have any special plans for summer?

All About You (Krissie)

Photo on 11-9-15 at 10.30 AM I am now a symphony of colors. This has healed amazingly quickly, given how god-awful it was to begin with. I couldn’t wear my glasses for three days (the swelling was that bad — it was like a small mouse was in my eyelid) so I couldn’t do anything — I’m too blind without them.
The day didn’t start out that well either. I finally, after almost six months of waiting for various appointments, got to see the shoulder surgeon, and it turns out my shoulder bones are crumbling. I’m going to need a complete shoulder replacement, which is different than the usual shoulder surgeries people go through. The rotator cuff is fine, etc. It’s the bones that are bad. He doesn’t know how big a fake joint he’ll have to use — it’ll depend on how much the bone is crumbling (yeah, I keep using the word crumbling but it’s really a horrible image that I’m kinda stuck on). Latest that will be is the first of the year, but the good news is I can still type while I’m recovering! So vast relief there. I know there are surgeries where your arm is strapped to your side and you can’t use it for months and I was dreading something like that.
So I was a little shaken by that news, and someone was talking to me as I stepped out the door at my therapists, and wham! The funny thing is I hit a rubber planter — I face planted in a planter. Buckets of blood, zen-like calm from me. I get the stitches out later this week (I have to have them in longer because the cut was so deep). I’ve never had stitches when I’ve been awake (only during surgeries) so it was kinda gross, but very exciting. And I got three days off!
Okay, this week. (Swallow). I drive with my son to Reston, VA to spend the weekend with my grandchildren. Every time Tim has gone down alone it’s been a shitstorm, so I’m assuming my presence will calm things down a bit. We’ll stay at a hotel at the airport (which is near Erin) and just try to keep things mellow. But it means I’ll be trapped with Angry Boy for twelve hours down and twelve hours back, and when he’s upset he likes to pick at me. I’m going need my Al-anon program. And my tranquilizers.
So, mixed feelings about that, but I get to play with my grandkids (maybe even hold my granddaughter) so I guess it’s worth the anxiety.
And I’m going to write, of course. It’s going really well. My enforced break has probably screwed the pooch with NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writing Month) but I’m going to keep at it anyway. You never can tell.
And it looks as if Tim has got a plan. He’s got a Skype job interview on Wednesday, and if that goes well he’ll fly out to Lake Tahoe, where my niece lives, and work out there for the winter.
Spawn, the eldest, is doing great, has a full-time job with benefits now, and is incredibly happy. What more can you ask for your child?
(And yes, I should have said elder, not eldest, but Spawn the Elder sounds like a Danish king or something).
So busy times. I’m just waiting for everything to get settled. Please, God.
What’s on your agenda this week? Any possible shitstorms? Any great joys, like grandchildren? Hard work? Surgeries?
Or is it only my life that’s so exciting?

All About You (Krissie)

Photo on 9-9-12 at 9.01 AM So they’re trying to take my grandchildren from me, and they’ll succeed. So I don’t feel much like talking.

It’ll be the week from hell. Capped by two hours with my grandchildren during my grandson’s birthday party (the only chance I’ll get to see him) where he’ll be surrounded by craziness and all of his huge family who hate Tim and by extension, want me out of their lives too. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Grandparents have no legal rights in this state.

So I’m going out with Richie for the day and try to be as cheerful as I can. Better than curling up in the fetal position and weeping all day. I can do that tomorrow.

Sorry for such a downer. Just talked with my son’s ex-girlfriend and there’s nothing I can do.

So, like Scarlett O’Hara, I’ll think about that tomorrow.

What’s on your agenda?

Krissie: Rainy Day

Good day yesterday. When Erin and Alex were over on Thursday I’d said I’d be happy to pick him up after school etc., and she said Friday might be a possibility though her sister was lined up to do it. But it was simply a possibility, and when she told Alex yesterday morning that her sister would be picking her up he said “but you said Grandma Krissie could do it!” Heh heh. So I got him yesterday too.
Had a grumpy moment with Richie before I went off to write, but called him back and apologized for my half of it. He said the wrong thing at the wrong time, but I reacted badly.
Which is why we’re so happy together. When either of us screws up we take responsibility.
So I went off and got a little accomplished, then took my mother out while I went to mail off a package of stuff to my son. Realized there wasn’t time, took her out to lunch. She wanted a Dunkin Donuts breakfast sandwich (she didn’t want to get out of the car for a restaurant) so I went to Subway and got a healthy one for me first and we sat and ate. Picked up Alex, treated them both to creamees (soft serve ice cream) and then dropped her off.
Fell asleep at 6:30. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. I think the stress was taking its toll on me and I’m catching up.
So. Today.
I think it’s a decluttering/cleaning day. Oh, and a sewing day. I’ve been dying to sew since I was in Ohio (though I left the gorgeous material I bought behind — quelle idiote!) But I have plenty of projects to work on, and that will be fun.
Funny that spending the day decluttering feels like self-indulgence. Funny how I suddenly feel anxiety creeping in.
As for the food, just doing my best. Working on just holding my own while I slowly get my life back in order. The breakup of a 4 year relationship, of a family that was so dear to me, is hard, harder than many things people usually have to go through. It’s not a momentary disappointment or a fight with your husband. So I need a little time.
But ordering my household, or working on it, will be in lieu of ordering my family.
Now if I were Queen of the Universe …

Krissie: A Day Off

I’ve got a grandson today, all day (from 8 to 6, which is a bit long), but I’ll see if I can lure him out to the Pirate movie or at least the library. I took this photo yesterday:
Which means Ian and Kate are just at the start of their first, epic kiss. Which is okay, I’ll get to it. Today isn’t a work day, and that’s just fine.
I did go to Taffy’s grave yesterday; I sang her “Happy Birthday.” She would have been 68, and I had the weirdest feeling. She died when she was 64. 64 was the oldest age of my generation — and now I’m there when I’m not 57. After always being the middle child I’m suddenly the oldest. Yes, I know I was before, once she died, but having reached her age it feels … weird.
Anyway, been searching through the pictures from Disney three summers ago, at the conference. So compare this:
My, my. And that wasn’t near my top weight. I really am looking different.
So my task for the day? Not to have a task. To play with Alex. Oh, I can involve him in stuff, like putting stuff out on the desk, etc. But basically I need to let all my responsibilities slide. Just for today.

Krissie: Trauma

Hey, does life with Cats and Dogs also cover our families? Trauma erupted last night, brewing between my son and his fiancee, who is the best thing that ever happened to him. He’s going to lose her because he’s being such an asshole, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Let go and let god. That was always the hardest part of the 12 steps for me. Step number three, … forget the exact words, but it’s turning things over to a higher power, because we admit that we can’t deal with it any more. I do that. I turn things over. And then I always take them back. Continue reading