What a difference a day made
Twenty-four little hours
Brought the sun and the flowers
Where there used to be rain
Well I’m back in the saddle today. Took a day off yesterday to take to my bed with the “vapors.” A southern belle term for being overwhelmed. I moped and cried on and off, had some bouts of self pity of the “why me lord” variety, panic, the whole gamut of freak outedness. Fortunately I’m pretty resilient and bounce back rapidly.
So today is a new day. A fresh start. The birds are singing, the sky is blue. I’m going to do grandma stuff while grandson is in the treatment center. It will keep me busy so I don’t fret so much. Wash his clothes. Move some stuff around in the den to give him a little niche so he feels more at home.
Maybe even crochet him a baby blanket. He’s not a baby anymore, but it will give me something to do 🙂 When I’m done with it there will always be a handy baby somewhere to give it too. Life and love goes on.
Mr. Husband has been my rock. He hugs me, strokes me hair, and says “we’ll get through” this. After 7 years I’m starting to believe him.
I’m about to give birth to a 175 pound, 6′ 3”, 24-year-old, bouncing baby grandson. Metaphorically of course. His mom did the hard part in that department. He’s a sweet kid who needs some help getting his feet on the ground. So Mr. Husband and I have agreed to help him out with room and board for a while. He’s coming here to Texas from way up north and hopefully job wise it will be better than his current situation. He arrives Friday night.
I’m deliriously happy and scared to death at the same time. I’ve been crying off and on. Finally told my husband that my worse fear was that we would end up in some hillbilly situation that could be on The Jerry Springer show. The episodes where adult children move back home, get a little too comfy and don’t make much effort to fly the nest again.
I’m counting on Hub-man’s strength and general man vibes to keep me on the path. Not to be harsh or too lenient and have to remember that Grandson is an adult so I can’t make him stand in the corner if he misbehaves.
Another thing that is freaking me out is that I am getting these weird grandmotherly urges to cook tons of food, clean the house, bake cookies, wash clothes. Who stole my brain? I want it back now!
I know part of this is coming from not getting to be a grandma when he was younger. Daughter and I have gone through long times of being estranged. It also seemed like where ever I lived she wanted to live somewhere else, and just send money now and then. Well, the years passed and now he’s a man. A young man in need of guidance and a helping hand. I hope we can be there for him and he chooses a good path.