Give me another "P"!
What does it mean?
I am a P O O P cheerleader!
Even those who have held onto it for several days come clean at Beppe's Home For Reluctant Poopers.
Showing posts with label defies catagorizing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label defies catagorizing. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Monday, October 08, 2007
I Cannot Think of a Title for This
Thank you for your kind comments to the post below. They are all deeply appreciated by THGGM and me.
What the next few days will be like, we do not know. THGGM's family is extremely dysfunctional. I understand that all families have their dysfunction, but with only three members, the dysfunction stands out, oh so much more.
As much as THGGM's brother drove us nearly insane, even causing us to have to make a quick move to protect our children, he was once a dearly loved little boy.
I first met him when he was five years old and newly transferred to the school where I was a mature sixth grader, in charge of the office. But, with his arrival, extra hands were needed in his kindergarten classroom, so sometimes I helped out during snack time. He was an adorable little boy.
He had white/blond hair and the palest of blue eyes. I had no idea that his brother was the new kid in the sixth grade, because they did not have the same last name. It took me several years before I put that together...
...not until I was in the 10th grade and dating his brother. The cute boy with the white/blond hair and the palest of blue eyes was now pouring buckets of garter snakes on my windshield. And growing marijuana in his backyard. He also asked me to marry him. With a real diamond ring. I held out for his older brother.
I don't think I have ever met anyone as hyperactive as he was. He spent his elementary years riddled with Ritalin. In every sort of trouble one can imagine. Mostly, he could charm his way out of it.
As he grew older, the only one he could still charm was his mother. THGGM saw very early on that to maintain any sort of normal family life for his new family, he would need to separate himself from the insanity.
I could not accept this. It didn't fit with my ideals of what a family 'should' do. So, THGGM made valiant efforts to continue to be the good son.
Eventually it became clear that to continue on in this way was enabling things to spiral downward and was actually causing more harm than good.
You are familiar with the symbol of the 'elephant in the room' that no one talks about? There was not just one elephant. There were herds and herds of elephants.
Any attempt on THGGM's part to try to do anything at all to shine light on the situation was met with a very firm "I'm so glad I have the Lord. I do not know what I would do without the Lord." This actually meant "Shut the damn up! We are not going to talk about this!" It also meant that all that was required of THGGM was that he aid in bailing his brother out of whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.
He was a very interesting person. And we all loved him. That makes it all the sadder. To watch someone you love destroy themselves and to stand by unable to respond was an awful way to live. We lived watching this for 12 years, with only a narrow driveway separating our homes. We watched, and said very little about what was happening with him to our children. But they had eyes and ears.
I remember the day one of our children announced: "When I grow up I want to be just like Uncle S!" Of course, I sputtered out a horrified "WHY?!" The answer was the beginning of many changes in how we responded to the insanity. "Because he lives at home and doesn't have to work. He does whatever he wants all day long." Not quite the definition of a grown-up I wanted my children emulating. We quit ignoring things.
That did not sit well with the elephant herds.
In the early morning hours one Sunday THGGM answered the phone. All I heard was "I'll be right over." He went nextdoor. I got up to see an ambulance pull up. It was another suicide attempt. This one was almost successful. He had cut himself severely while locked in his bedroom. He truly almost did not survive and never lost those hideous jagged scars.
Being the good son THGGM did not want his mother to have to deal with 'the mess'. 'The mess' must be the most untalked about aspect of suicide. While I took our three kids to church, THGGM donned gloves and spent the morning cleaning up his brother's blood. He did a very thorough job. As he went into the basement to deposit blood-soaked sheets and towels into the washing machine, he slipped in a large pool of blood that had seeped through the floor boards. An equally vile mess awaited his cleaning in the basement.
THGGM did have a once in a life time 'deep' talk with his brother. When he was hospitalized. They had so much in common, yet nothing at all in common. Neither of them ever had any sort of relationship with their own father. They talked about this. THGGM tried very hard to express his own faith, and how God had worked tremendous healing in his life. His brother found this all very interesting. But, emphatically stated that he did not believe in God. Satan, yes, as he claimed to have met him. But not God.
I wonder sometimes what life would have been like for his brother had he a father who loved him. His father sent an abortionist to get rid of him before he was born. THGGM remembers that night clearly, occasionally he still has nightmares about it.
It does not appear that his death was by suicide. Years of abusing alcohol and drugs do dastardly things to a body. He went to bed not feeling well and never woke up.
Sadly, death will not take the elephant herds.
He was an adorable white/blond haired little boy with the palest of blue eyes. I wish his life had turned out differently than it did. But...
... you get what you get.
What the next few days will be like, we do not know. THGGM's family is extremely dysfunctional. I understand that all families have their dysfunction, but with only three members, the dysfunction stands out, oh so much more.
As much as THGGM's brother drove us nearly insane, even causing us to have to make a quick move to protect our children, he was once a dearly loved little boy.
I first met him when he was five years old and newly transferred to the school where I was a mature sixth grader, in charge of the office. But, with his arrival, extra hands were needed in his kindergarten classroom, so sometimes I helped out during snack time. He was an adorable little boy.
He had white/blond hair and the palest of blue eyes. I had no idea that his brother was the new kid in the sixth grade, because they did not have the same last name. It took me several years before I put that together...
...not until I was in the 10th grade and dating his brother. The cute boy with the white/blond hair and the palest of blue eyes was now pouring buckets of garter snakes on my windshield. And growing marijuana in his backyard. He also asked me to marry him. With a real diamond ring. I held out for his older brother.
I don't think I have ever met anyone as hyperactive as he was. He spent his elementary years riddled with Ritalin. In every sort of trouble one can imagine. Mostly, he could charm his way out of it.
As he grew older, the only one he could still charm was his mother. THGGM saw very early on that to maintain any sort of normal family life for his new family, he would need to separate himself from the insanity.
I could not accept this. It didn't fit with my ideals of what a family 'should' do. So, THGGM made valiant efforts to continue to be the good son.
Eventually it became clear that to continue on in this way was enabling things to spiral downward and was actually causing more harm than good.
You are familiar with the symbol of the 'elephant in the room' that no one talks about? There was not just one elephant. There were herds and herds of elephants.
Any attempt on THGGM's part to try to do anything at all to shine light on the situation was met with a very firm "I'm so glad I have the Lord. I do not know what I would do without the Lord." This actually meant "Shut the damn up! We are not going to talk about this!" It also meant that all that was required of THGGM was that he aid in bailing his brother out of whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.
He was a very interesting person. And we all loved him. That makes it all the sadder. To watch someone you love destroy themselves and to stand by unable to respond was an awful way to live. We lived watching this for 12 years, with only a narrow driveway separating our homes. We watched, and said very little about what was happening with him to our children. But they had eyes and ears.
I remember the day one of our children announced: "When I grow up I want to be just like Uncle S!" Of course, I sputtered out a horrified "WHY?!" The answer was the beginning of many changes in how we responded to the insanity. "Because he lives at home and doesn't have to work. He does whatever he wants all day long." Not quite the definition of a grown-up I wanted my children emulating. We quit ignoring things.
That did not sit well with the elephant herds.
In the early morning hours one Sunday THGGM answered the phone. All I heard was "I'll be right over." He went nextdoor. I got up to see an ambulance pull up. It was another suicide attempt. This one was almost successful. He had cut himself severely while locked in his bedroom. He truly almost did not survive and never lost those hideous jagged scars.
Being the good son THGGM did not want his mother to have to deal with 'the mess'. 'The mess' must be the most untalked about aspect of suicide. While I took our three kids to church, THGGM donned gloves and spent the morning cleaning up his brother's blood. He did a very thorough job. As he went into the basement to deposit blood-soaked sheets and towels into the washing machine, he slipped in a large pool of blood that had seeped through the floor boards. An equally vile mess awaited his cleaning in the basement.
THGGM did have a once in a life time 'deep' talk with his brother. When he was hospitalized. They had so much in common, yet nothing at all in common. Neither of them ever had any sort of relationship with their own father. They talked about this. THGGM tried very hard to express his own faith, and how God had worked tremendous healing in his life. His brother found this all very interesting. But, emphatically stated that he did not believe in God. Satan, yes, as he claimed to have met him. But not God.
I wonder sometimes what life would have been like for his brother had he a father who loved him. His father sent an abortionist to get rid of him before he was born. THGGM remembers that night clearly, occasionally he still has nightmares about it.
It does not appear that his death was by suicide. Years of abusing alcohol and drugs do dastardly things to a body. He went to bed not feeling well and never woke up.
Sadly, death will not take the elephant herds.
He was an adorable white/blond haired little boy with the palest of blue eyes. I wish his life had turned out differently than it did. But...
... you get what you get.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
You Get What You Get
We had a little phrase often said in our family: You get what you get.
In general, this meant that if mom (me) were passing out Popsicles and you got an orange one and didn't want orange you would hear the phrase 'You get what you get.' Orange, or nothing, you decide.
The last time I remember hearing this phrase was when my brother-in-law saw my kids with Popsicles and asked for one. One of the kids brought it out to him, but he didn't want that color. I heard my words come out of my kid's mouth. "You get what you get!".
He opted for nothing.
I have no idea why I am remembering this particular phrase at this moment.
This morning we learned that THGGM's brother died in his sleep last night. He was 44. An autopsy will be done on Monday to determine the cause of death. We know nothing more than that.
If you know us, please pray.
In general, this meant that if mom (me) were passing out Popsicles and you got an orange one and didn't want orange you would hear the phrase 'You get what you get.' Orange, or nothing, you decide.
The last time I remember hearing this phrase was when my brother-in-law saw my kids with Popsicles and asked for one. One of the kids brought it out to him, but he didn't want that color. I heard my words come out of my kid's mouth. "You get what you get!".
He opted for nothing.
I have no idea why I am remembering this particular phrase at this moment.
This morning we learned that THGGM's brother died in his sleep last night. He was 44. An autopsy will be done on Monday to determine the cause of death. We know nothing more than that.
If you know us, please pray.
Friday, April 27, 2007
The Aging Mind
The aging mind is an interesting thing.
I've been thinking about why I blog, and there are two reasons.
The first is the reason I began blogging. But, I cannot at present remember what that reason was.
The second reason is that blogging is the only way I have any idea at all what I did the day before.
Yet. Here I sit, googling things about memory.
The early morning hours of April 25, 2007 I will certainly not forget. No. Even if I didn't record it here, I would not forget it.
It was the moment when THGGM and I stared blurry eyed at our OWN raging insanity.
It is my habit to come to bed two hours after THGGM. This way, I can be assured that he is sound asleep and my bedtime reading ritual will not disturb his slumber.
So, on April 25, 2007 I wearily climbed the stairs to bed.
I turned on the lamp by my side of the bed.
I noted that THGGM didn't look like he was very deeply asleep. I noted this, because he was snoring in that 'Sunday afternoon on the couch' way.
As I went to the closet to change from clothes that smell like peanut butter (my destiny!) I had a little story running through my head about the robin who is building a nest outside of our closet window. It was a story in which the robin's name was Darlene, and her mother-in-law was berating her for choosing such a bad spot to build a nest. She was yammering away in my head about Darlene's not noticing how often the 'owner of the shirts' change them each day. Yes. THGGM owns many many brightly colored shirts which he changes every evening with alarming frequency. I'm sure Darlene's mother-in-law noticed that.
I exited the closet and closed the door, so Darlene and her little family wouldn't have to contend with the light. Notice my extreme thoughtfulness towards Darlene.
When I closed the door, it made one of those shrill squeaks that only a closet door in a very old house can make. There is also a charmingly decoupaged smashed can hanging on the doorknob, which added a note of finalization to the shrill squeak.
And, that is when it happened. The insanity.
THGGM woke, thinking that what he had heard was me screaming and something falling. (remember, it wasn't all that long ago that we had a deep conversation under the covers while a bat flapped around our bedroom. anything was possible.)
He rose up off the bed in a way that can only be described as levatating.
And he began screaming at the top of his lungs "WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT?"
I was SO shocked that I screamed. I did not scream words. No. Not at first.
It was then I realized he thought there REALLY was something in the closet.
Of course, I could not help but scream "THERE ISN'T ANYTHING! THERE ISN'T ANYTHING! THERE ISN'T ANYTHING!"
Now. Find a friend. One of you take THGGM's lines, and the other my lines. Both must scream in the loudest 'out door' voice imaginable at exactly the same time.
Now, do you think that Darlene will EVER come back?
I've been thinking about why I blog, and there are two reasons.
The first is the reason I began blogging. But, I cannot at present remember what that reason was.
The second reason is that blogging is the only way I have any idea at all what I did the day before.
Yet. Here I sit, googling things about memory.
The early morning hours of April 25, 2007 I will certainly not forget. No. Even if I didn't record it here, I would not forget it.
It was the moment when THGGM and I stared blurry eyed at our OWN raging insanity.
It is my habit to come to bed two hours after THGGM. This way, I can be assured that he is sound asleep and my bedtime reading ritual will not disturb his slumber.
So, on April 25, 2007 I wearily climbed the stairs to bed.
I turned on the lamp by my side of the bed.
I noted that THGGM didn't look like he was very deeply asleep. I noted this, because he was snoring in that 'Sunday afternoon on the couch' way.
As I went to the closet to change from clothes that smell like peanut butter (my destiny!) I had a little story running through my head about the robin who is building a nest outside of our closet window. It was a story in which the robin's name was Darlene, and her mother-in-law was berating her for choosing such a bad spot to build a nest. She was yammering away in my head about Darlene's not noticing how often the 'owner of the shirts' change them each day. Yes. THGGM owns many many brightly colored shirts which he changes every evening with alarming frequency. I'm sure Darlene's mother-in-law noticed that.
I exited the closet and closed the door, so Darlene and her little family wouldn't have to contend with the light. Notice my extreme thoughtfulness towards Darlene.
When I closed the door, it made one of those shrill squeaks that only a closet door in a very old house can make. There is also a charmingly decoupaged smashed can hanging on the doorknob, which added a note of finalization to the shrill squeak.
And, that is when it happened. The insanity.
THGGM woke, thinking that what he had heard was me screaming and something falling. (remember, it wasn't all that long ago that we had a deep conversation under the covers while a bat flapped around our bedroom. anything was possible.)
He rose up off the bed in a way that can only be described as levatating.
And he began screaming at the top of his lungs "WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT?"
I was SO shocked that I screamed. I did not scream words. No. Not at first.
It was then I realized he thought there REALLY was something in the closet.
Of course, I could not help but scream "THERE ISN'T ANYTHING! THERE ISN'T ANYTHING! THERE ISN'T ANYTHING!"
Now. Find a friend. One of you take THGGM's lines, and the other my lines. Both must scream in the loudest 'out door' voice imaginable at exactly the same time.
Now, do you think that Darlene will EVER come back?
Friday, April 13, 2007
The Blogg?
...or shaped like a BLOGG?
Did everyone else know that it was Dr. Seuss who came up with the Blog(g)?
I'm always the last to know about such things.
Here I'd always thought it came from Web Log. But, no. It's been a Seussian character all along.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Saturday
THGGM and I were early shoppers this morning. He to the mall, me to Michael's. I picked up everything I needed, except for that thing I couldn't remember. But I DID remember what it was, they were just out of it. So, on to plan B, which really was plan A to begin with. I found this teeny tiny box of Shiny Brite ornaments at an antique mall today. It is marked 1962 in pencil on the bottom. So cute! I might need to wear them as earrings.
I also found this Dutch girl plaque. She didn't cooperate for her late night photo shoot, but I was so happy to find her that I just had to take her picture.
One of our favorite thrift stores had all Christmas stuff half off. Now, if you come to my back door, these snowmen will greet you. 
Oldest Son had a great suggestion for my angels. They now sport a tinsel halo which makes the ribbon come up through the top of the head instead of around the neck, nicely eliminating that 'lynched' look.
I found even more old ornaments at the antique mall. Two more boxes of old Shiny Brites. One box all aqua-y blue, and one box of multi colored ones.
And, I found some more transfer patterns, one with a large number of 'hot pad' faces. Someday, I'm going to make a bunch and tea-dye them and string them up as a valance over the kitchen window. Maybe. I might. You don't KNOW that I won't. (i probably won't. but i could.)
Baby Boy will be happy to have a Clifford Christmas book. You know. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a big red dog. And, I found a great hard cover "Uncle Tom's Cabin". I even bought some things I haven't examined yet because THGGM put them away before I had properly fondled them. Suddenly, he is all about neatness and order.
Oh! And I found the GREATEST songbook called "Twice 55 - Community Songs for Male Voices", with a copy rite of 1926. I'm not sure whether to bust out into "Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair", "Those Pals of Ours", or "Gaudeamus Igitur", which the book tells me 'is a favorite in every college the world over'.
More cookies are in the freezer. More angels have wings. I made it easier for them. I attached a bell.
That, briefly, is a sampling of what I did on this Saturday.
My head felt fine all day. But, my shoulder hurts...
Notes from This Week
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I think I have survived this migraine. Every night, a little bit of it comes back to remind me that I should not think that I have won, yet.
My parents are enrolled in their prescription plan. How in the world anyone could expect old people to figure this out on their own, I will NEVER understand. I'm very thankful for the two kind voices on the phone who helped me through this. I laughed out loud when the voice mail attached to the number I called said to check out their website. My parents are 79 and 80. They do not have a computer. Last week when I went to their house to fill the pills, they were playing an 8 track!
I took a very good picture of my parents at the church Christmas party tonight. While cropping it, I noticed that my mom is wearing her old glasses. She has two new pair. Something for me to track down. They did find her purse. I needed medicare cards to sign them up for the new plan. So so very very glad they found her purse. It was stuck way under the front seat of the car. I wonder if her old glasses were in her purse?
I told THGGM tonight that contrary to what HE believes, it does indeed look like Christmas in our home tonight. I made three batches of cookies today. I could not finish one of them, as when I dumped the chocolate chips and butterscotch chips together in the pan, it occurred to me that those chips weren't semi-sweet. Oh, if only I had realized that before I mixed the two bags together. Like I had time to separate the chips. Someone should invent a magnet for this sort of error. Although, I suppose I could just read the bag before I open it. Oh, well. My freezer is filling up with things I should not eat.
My dining room table looks like a bird flew into a fan. Somehow, feathers removed themselves from the bag and took a spin around the table. Unfinished projects. It says 'Christmas' to me.
"The Heart of the Family" is now in the category of 'books I have read'. I really liked it. A lot. Dog eared many pages. Now I am reading John Grisham's "Skipping Christmas". This is the first Grisham book I have read.
Baby Boy had his first molar come through this week. It made him extremely sweet and extremely cuddly. Yesterday I saw him leaning on the giant footstool that has taken over the living room. He had his index finger way back in his mouth. I asked him "What's wrong?" and he put his index fingertips together signing 'hurt'.
Tomorrow I must paint eight soup cans black. Go to Michael's for white pipe cleaners and something else. The something else will probably keep me awake all night, as it was very important.
Shouldn't there be a way to tell stupid people to just STOP being stupid? I would think that if someone told me to stop being stupid, I would stop. Although, I do not suggest you try this while I am eating chocolate.
The migraine song running through my head this week has been Burl Ives singing 'Have a Holly Jolly Christmas'. It. Won't. Stop.
Time seems to be running funny lately. I pulled out some of my favorite Christmas reading material, and it seemed like I had just read it. I used to tremble with excitement to read them. I suppose if I added up just how many years I have been reading some of them, it would explain it. I simply MUST read "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". Even though it seems I just did.
I could go on like this all night. I had coffee at 5:30. But, no. All good things must come to an end. I must go separate the chips, finish the cookies and clean up the kitchen.
And me, already being a pumpkin.
My parents are enrolled in their prescription plan. How in the world anyone could expect old people to figure this out on their own, I will NEVER understand. I'm very thankful for the two kind voices on the phone who helped me through this. I laughed out loud when the voice mail attached to the number I called said to check out their website. My parents are 79 and 80. They do not have a computer. Last week when I went to their house to fill the pills, they were playing an 8 track!
I took a very good picture of my parents at the church Christmas party tonight. While cropping it, I noticed that my mom is wearing her old glasses. She has two new pair. Something for me to track down. They did find her purse. I needed medicare cards to sign them up for the new plan. So so very very glad they found her purse. It was stuck way under the front seat of the car. I wonder if her old glasses were in her purse?
I told THGGM tonight that contrary to what HE believes, it does indeed look like Christmas in our home tonight. I made three batches of cookies today. I could not finish one of them, as when I dumped the chocolate chips and butterscotch chips together in the pan, it occurred to me that those chips weren't semi-sweet. Oh, if only I had realized that before I mixed the two bags together. Like I had time to separate the chips. Someone should invent a magnet for this sort of error. Although, I suppose I could just read the bag before I open it. Oh, well. My freezer is filling up with things I should not eat.
My dining room table looks like a bird flew into a fan. Somehow, feathers removed themselves from the bag and took a spin around the table. Unfinished projects. It says 'Christmas' to me.
"The Heart of the Family" is now in the category of 'books I have read'. I really liked it. A lot. Dog eared many pages. Now I am reading John Grisham's "Skipping Christmas". This is the first Grisham book I have read.
Baby Boy had his first molar come through this week. It made him extremely sweet and extremely cuddly. Yesterday I saw him leaning on the giant footstool that has taken over the living room. He had his index finger way back in his mouth. I asked him "What's wrong?" and he put his index fingertips together signing 'hurt'.
Tomorrow I must paint eight soup cans black. Go to Michael's for white pipe cleaners and something else. The something else will probably keep me awake all night, as it was very important.
Shouldn't there be a way to tell stupid people to just STOP being stupid? I would think that if someone told me to stop being stupid, I would stop. Although, I do not suggest you try this while I am eating chocolate.
The migraine song running through my head this week has been Burl Ives singing 'Have a Holly Jolly Christmas'. It. Won't. Stop.
Time seems to be running funny lately. I pulled out some of my favorite Christmas reading material, and it seemed like I had just read it. I used to tremble with excitement to read them. I suppose if I added up just how many years I have been reading some of them, it would explain it. I simply MUST read "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". Even though it seems I just did.
I could go on like this all night. I had coffee at 5:30. But, no. All good things must come to an end. I must go separate the chips, finish the cookies and clean up the kitchen.
And me, already being a pumpkin.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
This Is SO Amazing!!!
Click on the link below, and you will be brought to my blog, in Spanish!
Even the links to my Plethora and Inky Fingers blogs are translated.
This is so amazing to me.
http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=es&sl=en&u=http://judyh58.blogspot.com/&sa=X&oi=translate&resnum=2&ct=result&prev=/search%3Fq%3DIS%2BANYBODY%2BHOME%26hl%3Des%26lr%3D
Even the links to my Plethora and Inky Fingers blogs are translated.
This is so amazing to me.
http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=es&sl=en&u=http://judyh58.blogspot.com/&sa=X&oi=translate&resnum=2&ct=result&prev=/search%3Fq%3DIS%2BANYBODY%2BHOME%26hl%3Des%26lr%3D
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