Grandma. She was somethin’ else. She was crafty. She was funny, even though she didn’t mean to be. She lived close to us my whole life, so we spent a lot of time with her. I guess I don’t really remember if she always said this, but later in life she’d start a lot of conversations with, “Say, wouldn’t it be fun if we (fill in the blank).” And she was usually right—whatever she had thought of was fun…
She hosted countless slumber parties at her house. She would even stay up to make “midnight snacks.” She liked to shop. She liked to attend whatever we were involved in. You could always count on her to want to go out…shopping…to eat…to do whatever. She was a party girl—but I mean that in the most lady-like way. She always had her hair styled, she always wore dresses and stockings. (She literally never wore a pair of pants.) She always carried her ‘pocketbook’ and she had a trace of a southern accent. She was every inch a lady, but she was always ready for a party. I think I got my sweet tooth from her--she was always game for whipping up some tasty treat. I didn’t know the lady that Gigi describes as being stern and strict. She was my Grandma—and she was somethin’ else.
My Grandma never spanked me. I can’t even really remember a time when she got upset with me. What I remember most is her laugh and the complete delight on her face when she’d open the door to see us standing there for a visit.
One time Gigi left the Editor and me at Grandma’s for the day. I was craving something sweet and I knew if I asked she would make something. That particular day she made a cake. And she let me eat some. She let me eat a lot, actually. When Gigi came to pick me up Grandma told her, “That little thing (I was super skinny when I was little) ate a whole cake!” and Gigi’s question was, “But why did you let her?”
My birthday was last week and my MIL brought over a cake. Not knowing that she was going to bring a cake I also made one for myself. So with two cakes in the house what’s a girl to do? Well, for starters I offered a piece to every living soul who walked through our front door. I took some to the office to share. And then my only other option—in the spirit of not being wasteful—was to cut off a sliver every time I walked through the kitchen. And even though I tried to share as much as possible, I do feel like I practically ate the whole thing.
I’d love to have Grandma back—to share a piece of cake with her…to see the look of delight on her face when she saw me…to hear her laugh. She had Alzheimer’s and Gigi took care of her, bless her heart, before she passed away. Lots of family didn’t want to visit because they said it just wasn’t her anymore. Gigi didn’t have that option. She patiently and lovingly took care of Grandma better than anyone else could. And although I was busy I tried to visit as much as I could because it WAS Grandma, just most of the time she couldn’t remember us, couldn’t access her memories to recognize her life. One day I went to visit and when I walked in her face lit up and she got that look of delight she always got and said, “Well, if it isn’t BusyBody! Say, wouldn’t it be fun if we visited awhile?” Yeah, wouldn’t it?
I miss Grandma. She was somethin’ else.
Posted by The Editor for Busy Body.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Cloak of Doom Is Lifting
The last two weeks have been challenging...we endured a round of viral fever/cough followed by strep throat all around. Being a pseudo-single mom for the time being, it has been tough. You can't even ask the neighbor girls to come and help when everyone is sick. Only a mother could love the fevered, cranky, grouchy bunch of kids that have been in residence here lately. Still, we've managed and if we escape the stomach virus that is now going around, next week should almost be back to normal and daddy will be HOME!
The recent days have not been completely without laughter, thanks to Netflix on the computer. Bubba, Stump, and Samantha Jeanpocket all enjoy watching AstroBoy (and there are 20+ episodes for their amusement).
My amusement and delight is in their coaxing Samantha to come and watch with them. She speaks pretty well for a 2 1/2 year old, but does shorten words to single syllables sometimes.
The boys, bless their hearts, imitate her dialect to make her feel like she's one of them. They say, "Samantha, want to come and watch A$$Boy?" and Samantha replies, "Yes, watch A$$Boy!"
And I just laugh--not at them, I delight in their innocence and just wish it could last forever.
Posted by The Editor.
The recent days have not been completely without laughter, thanks to Netflix on the computer. Bubba, Stump, and Samantha Jeanpocket all enjoy watching AstroBoy (and there are 20+ episodes for their amusement).
My amusement and delight is in their coaxing Samantha to come and watch with them. She speaks pretty well for a 2 1/2 year old, but does shorten words to single syllables sometimes.
The boys, bless their hearts, imitate her dialect to make her feel like she's one of them. They say, "Samantha, want to come and watch A$$Boy?" and Samantha replies, "Yes, watch A$$Boy!"
And I just laugh--not at them, I delight in their innocence and just wish it could last forever.
Posted by The Editor.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Work with me here!
I got a client from our company’s referral service. Who cares, right? Well, I haven’t had a client of my own—ever. All of our clients belong to me AND Hubs. Since someone has to watch the kids while we are showing properties he usually takes the clients and I take care of the kids. This client, however, specifically wanted a female agent. So between me and Hubs, that would fall to me.
And so in a sort of “Freaky Friday” role reversal, Hubs stayed home to watch the kids and I went out to do the whole Realtor thing. This, of course, meant that I had to get ready and dressed like a realtor and not a mommy—jeans, tee shirt and Ugg boots were not going to cut it. Hubs, on the other hand, was jazzed about the Mr. Mom attire. BUT, being a little out of practice for watching the kids while I get ready, Hubs wasn’t being as attentive and watchful as he should have been. It took me twice as long to get ready as it should have.
I’m not gonna lie, I was a little stressed. There was a list of 28 properties that my client was interested in. We decided to focus on one city at a time, so that narrowed it down to 24. Of the remaining 24, 6 were not longer active. So I called on 18 properties to set up showing appointments. Of the 18 that I called, I was able to set up 9 appointments. Then I had to figure out the most logical order to map out our route. Then I printed out the agent information sheets, printed out buyer home viewing scorecards, and put everything into a folder for her. I was ready about 10 minutes early. (I was only done early simply because I did all of this from the office. If I had done this from home I would probably still be setting up appointments now!) My client arrived and we set out. It went relatively well. Out of the 9 properties we looked at, it took us 3 ½ hours, and she only really liked one of them. (This was not the stressful part—keep reading…) We’ll be going out again…maybe
I only say maybe because apparently watching the kids is not as easy as it looks. This was evident when I got home. Let’s start with the house. There were toys and clothes strewn about like a small interior tornado had hit our family room. No beds were made. Remnants of lunch (El Pollo Loco take out, because how can you possibly cook AND watch the kids at the same time?) were still on the table. And there were about 7 sippy cups in the kitchen sink. (???) I didn’t ask.
Joy’s hair (which is down to her waist) was still in the messy pony tail she was wearing when she went to bed last night. Her face was not visible—she looked like Cousin It. She was wearing denim capris with tennis shoes and no socks. The shirt she had on belongs to my 16 month old. Joy is 4. The shirt looked like a “Girls Gone Wild” crop top. I asked why she was wearing it. Hubs said that he asked her if it was hers and she answered, “I’ll wear it.” (Try checking the tag for a size?) I suggested that she change into something more comfortable, meaning something that actually fit, but she told me, “No, Mommy—I wore this all day. It’s good. I even wore it when we were outside in the front yard.” (Oh, yes, that is good…let all the neighbors see that we can’t properly groom or clothe our children.)
Marlo was marginally better. She had on a dress--no matching bloomers (that I am pretty sure were on the same hanger as the dress) but at least she had on a diaper. Half of what she ate was still on her face. The top portion of her face was covered by her hair. Her socks didn’t match, but at least she had some on!
When I got home, Hubs turned the reins over to me. In about 2 minutes flat he was snoring, loudly, on the couch. During that time I cleaned the girls up, combed their hair, put weather-appropriate, matching, correctly-sized clothes on them, and took them for a walk with the dog. When we got home, Hubs had not moved.
After dinner, baths, and bed for the girls Hubs asked me, “Does Marlo not like Sprite?” (OK, well, let’s forget the fact that she’s 16 months old, has never had any kind of soda…ummm—NO!) In the calmest voice I could muster I said, “No, dear, we don’t give the baby soda.” And he said, “Yeah, I kinda figured that when she took a swig of my drink and spit it out all over the floor.” (That explains the big sticky spot in the kitchen.) He then told me, “Wow! It’s fun spending time with the girls, but they can really wear you out.”
Bless his heart—at least he tried. I am hoping that when he has recuperated he will still retain some of the lessons of the day…the most important one being: Just because you stay at home with the kids does not mean that you don’t put in a full day’s work.
Welcome to my world, Hubs! Take your coat off, stay awhile…
And so in a sort of “Freaky Friday” role reversal, Hubs stayed home to watch the kids and I went out to do the whole Realtor thing. This, of course, meant that I had to get ready and dressed like a realtor and not a mommy—jeans, tee shirt and Ugg boots were not going to cut it. Hubs, on the other hand, was jazzed about the Mr. Mom attire. BUT, being a little out of practice for watching the kids while I get ready, Hubs wasn’t being as attentive and watchful as he should have been. It took me twice as long to get ready as it should have.
I’m not gonna lie, I was a little stressed. There was a list of 28 properties that my client was interested in. We decided to focus on one city at a time, so that narrowed it down to 24. Of the remaining 24, 6 were not longer active. So I called on 18 properties to set up showing appointments. Of the 18 that I called, I was able to set up 9 appointments. Then I had to figure out the most logical order to map out our route. Then I printed out the agent information sheets, printed out buyer home viewing scorecards, and put everything into a folder for her. I was ready about 10 minutes early. (I was only done early simply because I did all of this from the office. If I had done this from home I would probably still be setting up appointments now!) My client arrived and we set out. It went relatively well. Out of the 9 properties we looked at, it took us 3 ½ hours, and she only really liked one of them. (This was not the stressful part—keep reading…) We’ll be going out again…maybe
I only say maybe because apparently watching the kids is not as easy as it looks. This was evident when I got home. Let’s start with the house. There were toys and clothes strewn about like a small interior tornado had hit our family room. No beds were made. Remnants of lunch (El Pollo Loco take out, because how can you possibly cook AND watch the kids at the same time?) were still on the table. And there were about 7 sippy cups in the kitchen sink. (???) I didn’t ask.
Joy’s hair (which is down to her waist) was still in the messy pony tail she was wearing when she went to bed last night. Her face was not visible—she looked like Cousin It. She was wearing denim capris with tennis shoes and no socks. The shirt she had on belongs to my 16 month old. Joy is 4. The shirt looked like a “Girls Gone Wild” crop top. I asked why she was wearing it. Hubs said that he asked her if it was hers and she answered, “I’ll wear it.” (Try checking the tag for a size?) I suggested that she change into something more comfortable, meaning something that actually fit, but she told me, “No, Mommy—I wore this all day. It’s good. I even wore it when we were outside in the front yard.” (Oh, yes, that is good…let all the neighbors see that we can’t properly groom or clothe our children.)
Marlo was marginally better. She had on a dress--no matching bloomers (that I am pretty sure were on the same hanger as the dress) but at least she had on a diaper. Half of what she ate was still on her face. The top portion of her face was covered by her hair. Her socks didn’t match, but at least she had some on!
When I got home, Hubs turned the reins over to me. In about 2 minutes flat he was snoring, loudly, on the couch. During that time I cleaned the girls up, combed their hair, put weather-appropriate, matching, correctly-sized clothes on them, and took them for a walk with the dog. When we got home, Hubs had not moved.
After dinner, baths, and bed for the girls Hubs asked me, “Does Marlo not like Sprite?” (OK, well, let’s forget the fact that she’s 16 months old, has never had any kind of soda…ummm—NO!) In the calmest voice I could muster I said, “No, dear, we don’t give the baby soda.” And he said, “Yeah, I kinda figured that when she took a swig of my drink and spit it out all over the floor.” (That explains the big sticky spot in the kitchen.) He then told me, “Wow! It’s fun spending time with the girls, but they can really wear you out.”
Bless his heart—at least he tried. I am hoping that when he has recuperated he will still retain some of the lessons of the day…the most important one being: Just because you stay at home with the kids does not mean that you don’t put in a full day’s work.
Welcome to my world, Hubs! Take your coat off, stay awhile…
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