The beat goes on, the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
Grandmas sit in chairs and reminisce
Boys keep chasing girls to get a kiss
The cars keep going faster all the time
Bums still cry “hey buddy, have you got a dime” Sonny & Cher
Took a night off and went with a girlfriend to see the band Little Feat. I had to make myself go. Didn’t want to. I wanted to stay home isolating and obsessing about my grandson. I’m glad I did now. We had a blast and I would have felt like crap backing out on my friend. This outing was on her bucket list.
Mr. Husband and grandson made it through one evening without me. Imagine that. Have to keep reminding myself that I’m not the master of the universe. It just rocks on without my interference and meddling. Probably better. When I got home they were both in bed and the house hadn’t burned down. Saints be praised!
I need to jump back in the pool of life now. Hiding in my bedroom isn’t doing me any good. I start looking like a mushroom on a bad hair day. That’s always been my weakness. Maybe I was a gangster in another life? When I get stressed out I “go to the mattress.” Probably not the same as the guys in the Godfather movie did it.
Feed like I’m swimming through molasses, everything is in slow motion. One day seems a week-long.
It’s not helping that Mr. Husband and his mother are locked in a control freaking sumo death match. She is using the contractor that we used and is remodeling her bathroom. She calls 15 times a day in a tizzy. She asks for Mr. Husband for advice, he gives it and then they argue about it. SUCKER! I find screaming, yelling and condescending tones of voice extremely upsetting. I’m trying to stay out of it as much as possible.
My Ipod headphones died along with every other scrap of tech gear on the train trip back in may. Going to replace those today and plug them in when the caller ID shows that hub-man’s Mama-san is calling.
Say what? Darling Grandson came home from infirmary yesterday. While he was there I found myself in a weird state of emotional and mental paralysis. Desperately needed something to take my mind of worrying and “awfulizing,” a word I learn years ago in counseling. Awfulizing means taking every fear and drawing it out to the worst possible conclusion and then worrying about THAT.
Crocheting didn’t help because there is mental room left to think. TV wasn’t much help either. So I went over my mental list of things I want to do before I leave planet earth. See the snows of Kilimanjaro? Nah, not an immediate solution. Have to pack and travel. A review of my Kindle books turned up Tolstoy’s War and Peace. That’s on my list of books to read. So I started it Monday. Turns out it’s a darn good book. Tolstoy had an amazing gift of describing what is going on behind the curtain in one’s heart of hearts. What a master. It also makes everyday problems seem petty in comparison. Been wrapped up in it for days now and I’m only 30% finished.
So Grandson is home. He’s being a little cocky and all “I can do this myself, I’m tuff enuff.” So I’m giving him a loose rein. Put him to work yesterday in the yard and painting in Mr. Husband’s office. Like everyone is advising me, he is a grown man and has to do this himself. Hooked up an old computer for him to use and he probably stayed up late on it. So I woke him up this morning at the crack of 9:30 (when I woke up) and told him that I expected him to get in the habit of sleeping at night and being awake in the daytime. Well if he can find night jobs in the roofing or construction lines of work, more power to him, but that’s unlikely.
I did let him know that when I was his age I found myself broke, with no options other than on my grandmother’s sofa. It’s an opportunity for a fresh start and a good kick in the pants because being at granny’s house can get a little boring. All the more reason for him to get on his feet and fly away
I’ve given up resisting the urge to hug and kiss him and do it every time I feel like doing it. Also tell him I love him once an hour. He’s just gonna have to deal with it. It’s the price of admission at Casa Grand Mama.
Well my beautiful grandson arrived last night from Maine. I can tell by looking at him that he has made some questionable life choices the past few years. He 30 pounds lighter than the last time I saw him, has a huge tattoo on his arm. This sounds like a job for super-grandma. Where’s my apron – I mean cape?
I woke up this morning feeling like it was Christmas morning. Went tip toeing into the den to take a peek at him to make sure he was OK. He looks so innocent asleep, like all kids do. I was with his mom when he was born and now 24 years later here he is on my sofa. What a trip.
What will the next few months bring? I have such high hopes for him. He’s a good-hearted kid, intelligent, full of himself and gullible, as all young guys are. He’s also polar opposite on sports teams than my husband. Hub-man roots for the Cowboys, grandson is a Patriots fan. That will make for some interesting adventures come fall. I will probably lock myself in the bedroom then.
A friend laughed at me last night and said “you know that balance has shifted now, you will be living in a house with 2 GUYS.” EEK. I’ll have to talk to my sister who lives with her husband and 2 sons for guidance. I’ve never been gender outnumbered before. I had 2 brothers but 3 sisters, so the boys in our house were always out voted 2 to 1.
Last night I tried to feed him and he said “I don’t want to eat you out of house and home.” When he wakes up I’ll have a talk with him. Rule #1 here is that you’re not allowed to be hungry at Grandmother’s house. It’s just not done. I’ll stuff him so full of food he will run when he’s sees me coming.
We’ll get to the other rules later today, time enough for that.