In our mistaken definition of a ‘good parent’, we have embraced this notion that good parenting is equal to protecting our children from all harm, including – heaven forbid -the slim possibility th…
Source: TEACHING CHILDREN TO FAIL
I realize I’ve been gone almost a year, and I’m sure you’re all wondering why I haven’t been writing. My AS became worse, and I had to take a little break from life in gener…
Source: Red Box for Dummies!
For some reason, it seems that the chosen one for helping with 4th grade homework fell upon my head (like a concrete block). I do realize God that being the Nana, or THE Nana, has its benefits and rewards, but it also has its dangers. Doing 4th grade homework is one of those, I’m afraid. You see, Sir, I was under the impression that once I had completed my own 4th grade homework so many years ago, I’d be done with 4th grade forever. But I realized I was wrong about that when child #1 came along, followed by child #2 five years later.
Now child #1 was a sweet little child, but homework and was not his forte. Therefore, by year’s end, his poor mother was left bald and voiceless after an entire 9 months of kicking, biting and screaming over 4th grade homework. Then for 5 years, 4th grade homework was over again, only to rear its ugly head once more when child #2 found herself in 4th grade as well.
Thankfully, child #2 had it much easier. Other than getting myself stuck smack in the middle of Barbie beauty pageants with her friend Sarah, and making sure that child #2’s Barbie, also known as Sheila Connelly, won every single pageant that was orchestrated in this humble abode, 4th grade homework was pretty easy. And at Sarah’s house, whoever her Barbie was named after was allowed to win – fair is fair, you know. But not in this house. It had to be Sheila Connelly who won in this house since this was the name of child #2’s favorite beauty pageant entrant every single year that Barbie beauty pageants were orchestrated for only God Himself knows how many years, since child #2 first laid eyes on the real Sheila Connelly – and her name was never just Sheila. It had to be her whole name at that time, Sheila Connelly. Oh yes, it was absolutely, positively Sheila Connelly. She (child #2) claims not to remember, but the mother here, with the brain of many cells, does remember. And her Barbie was definitely named Sheila Connelly; I know this as good as my own name.
Except for this year. This year my name seems to have been changed, unbeknownst to me and without my permission, to Nana – The Queen of 4th Grade Homework Help. Now I guess since this is the case I should have a crown – and I do know where to get one. Since the former Barbie beauty pageant coordinator, and my lovely 2nd child, my girl child, has a few of her own, she shall be forced to hand one over so that I can wear the thing as I perform my Queenly 4th grade homework duties again this year – for the 4th time. Oh. Dear. God.
I pray, dear Lord, that the 4th time is the proverbial charm. Please let it be so. And since this is the youngest of the six lovely grandchildren with whom I have been so blessed, I cannot – for the life of me – see where you’d get me another one, unless someone else forced one of them upon me – er – blessed me with another grandchild, or step-grandchild if that were ever the case, to love and adore and (oh dear God forbid) help with 4th grade homework yet again. If this is indeed the case, dear Father in Heaven above, please send me a gorgeous little child who adores school, loves to do homework and can get it done without too much muss or fuss, mostly by him or herself.
In the meantime, Dearest Father in Heaven, even though I don’t much care for it, except for their French fries and chocolate milk shakes, please send me to McDonald’s. I hear they’re planning a new Happy Meal for Mom’s, and I do hope they will let all the Grandmothers, Grandmas, Me Maws, Ma Mas, Grannies, or Nanas (like me) and so on, partake of this new menu. Please hear my prayer, oh God, and provide said McDonald’s new menu post haste. Thank you so very much, Dear God. Amen.
And for the Nanas. Do NOT forget the Nanas.
No está escrito en español , que se habla tan bien , mi dulce .
¿Cómo aprendiste a hacer eso tan bien ?
I had no idea I was also an origami girl until I read this story. The shame makers will have no more part in my life -not ever. I don’t care who you are. I’m far too old for any more of your shenanigans. And so are the rest of us.
“We are all stories, in the end.”
I was talking to a friend last week and our conversation went deep. She was telling me some things about her past, and when she got to a certain part of her story her voice changed. It tightened. She stopped making eye contact. Her shoulders hunched. She got physically smaller.
I looked at her, this funny, smart, strong woman who I’ve grown to love and respect, folding in on herself. Another origami girl. I got pissed
I held my hand up and said, “Wait. Stop.” I leaned in and asked quietly, “Who is telling your story right now?”
She looked at me, confused.
I believe babies are born whole, good, and loved. So that’s our story when we come into the world- Whole. Good. Loved. That’s our baseline. The most basic of plot points.
Then our stories get entrusted to the…
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So Judi and I, and her six-year-old nephew, go out to feed up – all the horses, ponies, barn cats, and dogs – and mosquitoes. I had to be the one to feed the mosquitoes. One horse had his halter half way off, but he was in too much of a hurry to eat to let Judi put it back on so she could put him in the barn. Stubborn guy – just like a man. He’s gonna be angry later when the bugs, bees, flies, etc. start driving him crazy out there in the pasture – and will only get back in whenever someone – not Judi since she’s taking me home in a few – let’s him back in the barn. Too bad, so sad, you stubborn old man horse.
Loved on the barn horses and the mares, the pony and the sheep – met Patches and Nell (the sheep ladies), and the lambs, and all barn cats, house cats and kittens. Would love to take a few kittens home with me – but – don’t want to run off any allergic grandchildren – so we wait and see. But they are such gorgeous little kittens and I do love them………
Got some great dog and horse kisses – just not under the stairs like I finally got at HHRS from John Rosse – you lucky guy you. Maybe next time we have a tour of the school one of you OTHER guys, maybe the other John, the wonderful one, will be the lucky winner of the make-out session under the stairwell with ME. 😉
Alice just arrived to borrow the car to go to the store, then Judi and I will be off to the races again, and to my house. She’s determined to take me home (3-4 hours) then turn right around and come back here to her house – another 3-4 hours. But I just managed to convince her to bring a change of clothes and her toothbrush just in case………… And after yesterdays bizarro world traffic, we just can’t place bets on when we’ll get there. That 3-4 hours could turn into 10. ?????
Before we got to my house, I called my daughter, hoping she was home so that she could sweep the floors and straighten up a bit before I brought Judi in. Judi looks at me, wide-eyed and rascally like, and tells me, “No fair!” Seems that her tenant who was supposed to clean up for her before we got there had other plans………. and they did not involve cleaning up. Didn’t matter one whit to me – Judi is pure love and kindness and that means more than anything at all to me.
Meanwhile, my daughter wasn’t home anyway – out shopping for some of the many school supplies her two youngest children still needed at a certain store I won’t mention ’cause I don’t like it. But she does. Their bags are now littering up my house – along with the rest of the stuff that didn’t get cleaned up before Judi came in. It’s okay – Judi is so much like me it’s – well – FUN! I was going to say ‘scary’ but it isn’t – its fabulous! Sure do love me some Judi, Judi, Judi. What a great ride! And now we’re thinking of going back up to Jersey in mid-September just for the weekend. I hope the B & B I want to stay in will have a vacancy that weekend………
Love youse guys, too! Catch up with the next chapter late tonight or tomorrow. Or maybe not. I can only write when God puts the words in my head, then out of my fingers. We’ll have to wait and see.
So here’s the story for today.
Judi picked me up yesterday about 9 or so. She had already made room in her previously packed SUV for me and all of my junk. And it worked out really well – she could actually see out the back window when we got through stuffing me and my stuff in. And off we went – first to get gas, then to the cemetery to see our families before leaving – Bay View, green light – whichever you call it. Judi drove me around to the left so I could look for that HUGE brown rock that became the Mantel actor’s grave stone. And we rode and rode and rode – all the way to the back – and never did see that HUGE rock. Then we rode back around and there it was – that HUGE rock that was so big my little self could barely climb it was no higher than my knees! MY KNEES I TELL YOU! To say I was shocked at how much it had shrunk over the years is an understatement. I had no clue that the weather could also shrink rocks, like washing your wool sweaters and sticking them in the drier, that rock is now small enough for me to sit on with no climbing involved. No wonder I couldn’t see it the first go round!
Anyway, we managed to find Mom (Hazel) and my sister Carol, grandparents, great grandfather George Henry Sadler – and you’re right, Leslie Layton – Margaret Card Sadler, his wife, is NOT buried there with him. Hmmmm. Anyway, I got out and spoke to my family there – complained about the size of the azaleas that my mother planted so long ago and need to be cut way back – which I couldn’t do since – no garden tools. Mom would be having a hissy fit if she saw the size of those azaleas now – pure T hissy fit, I tell you. (google it – southern thing – I know how to do that hissy fit thing, too. And I’m good at it.)
So then we were on our way, rode over the river and through the woods to get to the NJTP – which was loaded with cars and trucks and a few lengthy traffic jams. It only took us 3 or 4 hours to get out of NJ instead of 2. Yup. Then over the bridge to DE and MD – where more traffic jams ensued. Finally we got to VA – on 301 – it was a nice ride. When we neared Richmond, we ambled over to 95 and stopped at Love’s Truck Stop just before getting on the long highway home to Judi’s house. At that truck stop, where we got gas, there was also a Dairy Queen – and we decided to get some ice cream since our lunch was long gone and we were finally ready for desert. Judi and Alice go into Dairy Queen to order ice cream – and there was none – at Dairy Queen – no ice cream. So a guy in front of Judi asks the counter clerk why there was no ice cream at DAIRY QUEEN. And the clerk tells him – well, we’re not a FULL SERVICE Dairy Queen – we only have hot dogs and hamburgers. AT DAIRY QUEEN.
S’cuse me? WTH????? No ice cream at Dairy Queen – but they do have hot dogs and hamburgers? Huh?
After we finally stopped laughing long enough to do it, we fold ourselves back into Judi’s SUV and head on down the pike where we later stopped at a WAWA in Ashland, VA. Alice needed something to eat with her dinner time meds, so again, we go looking for ice cream. And at WAWA – which you know I had to say in a very silly manner – and repeatedly – cause it made ME laugh (don’t think I’ll ever get used to the name of that place – WAWA in my silly cartoon character WAWA voice – of course) and we find Good Humor ice cream. But Alice wants milk to take her meds with ’cause the milk is now cheaper than the ice cream. Hmmmm. We take our stuff to the counter and proceed to tell the guy at the register the Dairy Queen story – and I really do wish you could have seen the look this checkout clerk had on his face when he found out about the, “not a full service Dairy Queen”, not having ice cream. It was priceless, that look – wish we’d taken a photo of him – or a video – or something. Perfect ending to a fabulously funny day on the road with Judi and Alice. I may have to do this again. Too funny!
Now today, Judi and I are going out to “feed up” – southern term for giving all the animals on her farm their food for the morning. Sheep, horses, lambs. I love it! Oh and 3 dogs that love me already – of course. Then we will fold ourselves back up into her Mercury thingy, haul the few things I brought in back out to the car. Then we’ll take off for my house – a 3 to 4 hour drive, or so we think – pending traffic, blue light specials and whatever else may pop us for us. I’ll let you know later tonight. I’m SURE there will be something. That’s just the way I roll – stuff happens – sometimes it’s hilarious, sometimes – not so much.
But remember – IF you ever try to get ice cream from the Dairy Queen at Love’s truck stop – you’re not gonna get it! They don’t do ice cream! ?????? WTH?
Love youse guys! ❤ ❤ ❤ Off to the races.