It's obvious isn't it?

I'm the problem?

My mom isn't talking to me but I'm pretty okay with that considering the circumstances. I'm not okay with her ignoring my son but it is what it is. I just don't look forward to the day that I have to apologize to G for his grandma not being a large part of his world.  My grandparents were key components of my life when I was growing up and there were a lot of us grandkids!  

My little brother isn't talking to me but I'm pretty okay with that considering the circumstances. He's the one who is choosing to distance himself from family.  I have told him more than once that I'm his sister and that's never going to change and I'll always be here.  Thankfully his now ex-wife keeps in contact with me so I can hear about his daughter and all her milestones.

My older brother is in his own world where unicorns poop rainbows and nothing is his fault.  It must be nice to think that the world revolves around him.  Isn't that how it should always be for a parent?  I choose not to talk to him because he's one of those people I don't have anything to say to him.  I hope that changes because he is the father of my nephews.

My sister, well we butt heads a lot and we look at life quite differently.  

http://tinybuddha.com/blog/how-to-deal-with-negative-people-or-difficult-people/

So I found this article and read through it.  A lot of it includes things I do/approaches I already take but then I started to wonder, maybe *I'm* the difficult or negative person?  Certainly out of the five of us I can't be the only not difficult one and the four of them are?  My sister knows she's difficult so this post won't shock her but she's a lot of the same kinds of "difficult" that I am, that's why we're still talking to each other I suppose.  Well that and because I love her and I know this is hard on her too.

I know I have a strong personality but it has to be strong so that my morals and ethics, the strong sense of family that my Dad instilled in me, my drive to be a good person and a forever improving person aren't knocked down and trampled on by those who choose to dwell and make choices based not on obligation and responsibility but on selfishness and deceit.  Judgmental?  Yeah, maybe a little.  Angry and hurt?  You betcha. 

I'm so sorry, little buddy

Crash got run over this evening. We buried him under the tree with the little cross, right by our min pin Kevlar, who has been dead for three years now.

RIP Crash 3/8/10 - 4/15/12

This afternoon G wouldn't get up from his nap, he was being a crab like he usually is when I have to wake him up, so I called Crash in for back-up. I had Crash jump up on the bed and lick attack G and nibble his toes. G went from crab to laughing in 20 seconds. Crash was always good for a laugh, especially for that little boy.

E came home from work and as he usually does, Crash ran out to greet him and run alongside his patrol car while E came in the drive. We've tried to get Crash to stop doing that because he runs right at the car. For some reason Crash made the wrong move and he went under the rear tire of E's car. He was a fast little bugger but he always worried me because he would cut it too close for my comfort. E came in and said, "Well now you don't have to worry about the little dog anymore, I just ran over him." It was stated in a matter of fact way that a only a cop delivering a death notification is trained to do but I could tell he was rattled.

G helped me and E go get Crash's body in the road and we talked about dead and died, terms that G is familiar with but other than his fish Deema has never really seen. G chatted with us about how that's why he's not supposed to run out into the highway or he'll get squashed and he'll die too. I told him that he is not allowed to die because his mommy will die right behind him of a broken heart.

G helped Daddy dig Crash's little grave. I took G's hand and put it on his own chest and asked him if he could feel the "bump bump bump" of his heart. "Yeah." I had him put his hand on Crash and asked him if he could feel Crash's heart bumping. "No, he dead." When E went to put Crash's body in the hole G started screaming, "He no die, Crash no die. Daddy, no put him in the hole! No go under the dirt!" And he ran away crying. I collected him and had him come back to the finality. I was holding back tears the entire time but once he started to cry I couldn't take it anymore either.

My mom and sister got Crash for my birthday in May 2010. I had wanted a Boston Terrier for a long time, specifically a male (because Siren doesn't do as well with other females in her home) and I really wanted a brindle (brown mottled kind of). Crash was the "traditional" black and white but to my delighted surprise, he had a patch of brindle on his right hip. Siren has a white diamond on the back of her neck and Crash had a polka dot type black spot on the top of his head. I fell in love with him as soon as I met him. So did G, who was just shy of turning two years old himself. That first summer was especially cute since Crash was just a few pounds but he managed to keep up with G. From then on he was G's shadow at his every move. And I have plenty of pictures that show that.

No more pets for me because my old heart can't take seeing my child's heart being broken. Even though Crash and I didn't always get along (he was a marker and it frustrated me something terrible because he'd do it in the house, on tires in the garage, G's toys, etc.) he was still part of my little family, part of my every day and I miss him already. I should have/could have protected him better, I let him stay outside because he had a raw bone in the yard from the butcher shop that he was working on. I should have had him come inside before E got home and he'd still be here.

Even though he was a pain in my backside he didn't deserve to meet his end after two short years of life, I wanted him to be behave but I'd never want him to be hurt or dead. I will miss him standing at the edge of the couch looking up at me imploringly to snuggle with me. I'd say, "Okay, come on up." All I had to do was lift the blanket in my lap a tiny bit and he'd jump up and snuggle right in. He was happiest when he was snuggling against a human under a blanket, a joy that even E (the no pets on the furniture guy) did not deny him.

4/19

Siren's forlorn and each time I send her out to potty she goes to his little grave and looks for him. Every morning since his death G insists on going out and saying good morning to him and telling Crash that we miss him. G likes to run his backhoe over the dirt and smooth it out so it looks nice. I just like that my boy has such a sweet heart that he keeps talking and asking questions about the doggy he loved.

But life goes on, without our little buddy. Crash, we loved you and we will miss you!

he's a smartass...like his mother

G and I were watching cartoons this morning, Doc McStuffins to be specific as it's one of his new favorite shows. Some intermittent time filler thing comes on, that weird dude and his pal dressed up as pirates (from Jake & the Neverland Pirates I think) that sing. They were singing some song about being, "down in the bubbly blue."

G said to no one in particular, "They not really under the water."

I said, "Sure they are, don't you see that starfish swimming by?"

G's reply? "But they not getting wet and they're singing. You no can sing under the water."

Well...he's kinda right isn't he, Ariel the mermaid being the exception of course? Clever little monkey.

After spending a day with the neighbor girls at our house, G has taken to thanking me as, "Mrs. Mommy." "Tank you Mrs. Mommy, dat was num!" The girls are taught to use Mr. & Mrs. and they couldn't remember our last name so they were calling me, "Mrs. Garrett Mommy." It cracks me up every time he says it!
G sounds like he has a NYC accent when he talks about his balls (or bawls is what it sounds like). The other day he invited Crash to sit with him in the recliner and I heard "Crashman, you share dis bwankie (blankie) wiff me. Sit in my wap (lap). Hey! Get off my balls! Ouch! Crash, no step on my balls, dat hurts!"

Me: "Dude, you're naked, did you notice?"
G: "I am?"
Me: "Yeah, I can see your junk and everything."
G: "Whoa look at dat, it's all wobbly."
Me: "Well yes, because you're dancing. How about you put your clothes on now so we can go outside and play?"
G: "I go out naked."
Me: "It's only 50 degrees, not the best choice."
G: "Oh. I have a better idea."
Me: "What's that?"
G: "Yogurt, I need to eat some yogurt."
I asked G if he wanted to have some soup with me and he told me no, that he wanted a pb&j. No problem. Then after I made his sandwich he wanted some of my soup. I'll admit it, I get tired of the little bird routine and sometimes I just want to eat my food so I told him no, that I offered him some soup and he said he didn't want it so now he can't have it.

G: "Mom, you see dat something outside?"
Me: (not even bothering to look) "No, I don't see anything outside. Sit down and eat your peanut butter and jelly that you asked for, please."
G: "It's a moth. It's so big. It will go to the big city and eat eberybody that live there and then it will rain."
Me: (turning around to look now) "I see a hummingbird but I don't see a giant moth that will eat all the inhabitants of a big city."
G: "Oops, I just ate some of your soup, sorry."
The attitude, oh the attitude. I know, I know, he got it from me. I hear it plenty. But still! He's taken to telling me no a lot lately, which is not acceptable unless it's in response to a yes or no question. When he started to get in trouble for telling me he turned it into, "No way." When he got in trouble for that, he said, "I didn't say no, I say no way." Yeah, 'cause that's sooooooooo much better! And he contradicts everything. If I tell him no he'll say, "Yes." If I say, "No way," he'll say, "Yes way." And of course the opposite is true. It's a good thing I know this is age appropriate defiance but I still deal with it...several times a day, every day.

G: "Mom you're pissin' me off."
Me: "Excuse me, what?"
G: "Oops, bad word."
Me: "Yeah, ya think? What am I doing wrong anyway, I just woke up!?"
G: "Nuffing, I just wanted to say dat bad word."

Remember when I was worried about his lack of speech? I knew I would pay for that someday, I just didn't realize it would be this soon...

the bee says "bzzz, bzzz!"

G spied a bee on one of the flowers by the house today. I was slightly around the corner from him, reading my Kindle and I heard the following "conversation."

"Hi, my name is Garrett, what's your name? My mom is right dere, her name is Mommy. And these are my dogs, Crash and Siren. Hey little bee, what's your name? Talk to me pwease."

Aw, that's my boy, the bug whisperer!

Well except for butterflies, he won't whisper to butterflies. One landed on his steering wheel on Lightning and G screamed, "MOMMY A BUTTFLY IS GOING TO EAT ME, HELP!" I don't think I've ever seen him bail out of Lightning that fast.

Put out the money

I want a pair of Bogs.

They're not cheap so I haven't purchased them. I've purchased two pairs of cheaper rain boots from Target I think. One pair started to leak last year, I threw them away. The second pair started to leak yesterday. Great.

It rains here and it's wet here a lot, we have a long spring. G and I love playing in the mud puddles. I don't expect this spring will be any different.

Plus it's nice to poop scoop in rain boots because if I step in something then I can just hose them down.

I want the kinds with the handles, the taller ones. I found one pair left in my size (10 in case anyone wanted to know) in plain black on the 6pm.com website on clearance for $17.99. Holy crap, that's like a savings of $80. I have never made a purchase from 6pm.com before so I had to register and in the time that it took me to do that, someone else snatched them up and I'm out of luck.

I should just make the investment huh? I can get a cute pair on Amazon for about $70...but $70 for rainboots? Ughitty, that's a hard pill to swallow.

Happy Easter

HAPPY RESURRECTION DAY!!!!

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Easter at our house was a small and quiet affair, just me and G as E had to work.  I put his easter basket between the two couches but it took him about 20 minutes to see it.  He's a slower waker upper like his momma.  It looks like I went overboard but it's just stuff I've been collecting here and there, like a new train t-shirt, a new bath towel, some sunglasses, etc.  He got all excited about his "suprizes," and he ate some of the candy, etc.  I had gone out the night before and put plastic eggs in various places in the compound.  Yes, in the snow.  They were filled with change from pockets and cars, etc. which would go in his piggy bank anyway, so I used the change this way.  E came home and helped G hunt eggs and they had a lot of fun together looking for them all.  


G and I talked about the easter bunny but then we also read a story about the true reason for celebrating this holiday and then said a little prayer thanking God and Jesus for the sacrifices they make for us and the love they show us even when we're hard to love. 


Look, I did it!  Easter...bunny...basket.  All out of love for a little boy and for seeing excitement on his face.  

Happy hunting!

"Mom, somebody made a big mess wiff all dem eggs out there."

We took G into town and we went to the fairgrounds and the oval at the university for two separate Easter egg hunts.

There was a bounce house and a big, inflated slide at the fairgrounds. G loved the slide most of all, though the bounce house was pretty awesome too. The waiting in line and waiting for one's turn for either of them wasn't so much fun, that's a lesson G hasn't had to learn quite yet. But they were worth the wait. There were animals in the petting zoo too, including a bunny that they let him hold and took a picture of him with. He has no fear when it comes to animals, he was ready to pick up a rooster, wanted to ride a horse and wanted to hug one of the cows. I would love to find somewhere that he could not be crowded and actually get to approach an animal or two, etc. and we can talk about them.

I was saddened by the parents at the first hunt especially. G got buffeted around by the big butts of a bunch of adults who were going after eggs. You know, for their kids. Whatever. It was sick, actually. At the second hunt they announced several times that no parents were allowed on the grass, just the kids. Yeah, adults still ran out there and were picking things up. After a few minutes I went out on the grass too because G was kind of lost in the sea of kids and I could see he was looking a little scared and trying to see us. It's a good thing we didn't go to either hunt to get a bunch of eggs or the prizes because there were people prepared to push a kid out of their way to get it. G and I had a chat specifically about how we don't push other kids, we don't be mean to other kids, we be helpful and polite, etc. Too bad I couldn't have that same conversation with some of the adults there.

The main objective was reached, G had fun.

Gettin' our egg on

Just to remind, this is where I stand on Easter: http://cyndrla.blogspot.com/2011/04/he-is-risen.html. But I now have a very aware of time and things going on around him three year old. And he's heard about the Easter bunny and Easter eggs and egg hunting. I decided to give it a go and I even made him an Easter basket out of little things I would have given him anyway, including the basket itself which is a wheeled bucket that he can put toys in to put them back in his room. Or more likely it'll end up outside to tote around things like rocks and dirt. Regardless, much more useful than a typical Easter basket.

Last night G helped me pick out which eggs to boil so we could decorate them. He likes doing things in the kitchen and so I worked a small science lesson about boiling into the fun. We looked up at what temperature water boils and we watched the bubbles getting bigger as the temperature rose. Of course, being the male that G is, he didn't believe me that the water was getting hoter so he had test it with a finger. Bonehead. After we boiled them we gave them a cold water bath and G got to learn how to use tongs, transferring the eggs from the hot water into the cold water. It was too much fun so I had to run another cold water bowl that he could continue transferring the eggs too and from using the tongs. We put them in the fridge with the expectation that we would decorate them the next day.

Morning comes and instead of asking for some milk first thing, G gets the hard boiled eggs out of the fridge and announces to me that it's time to decorate. Dude, can I get a cup of coffee first if you please? He loved filling up the cups and dropping the coloring tabs into each one and watching them dissolve. Then the fun began, using the egg dipper that came with our kit to put a white egg into a colored cup. We would set the timer and he would sit and watch until the timer went off and then we'd check our eggs. Pure delight for him to see his formally white eggs now all sorts of colors of the rainbow! My fingertips turned blue at some point in the process but that's a small price to pay I suppose. After we achieved the colors we were looking for came the absolutely arduous task of letting them dry. You'd think I was killing him by making him wait. Then it came time for the silly face stickers and since that's all that came in the kit I got out some of our gel crayons and the glitter glue. Gel crayons be damned, G wanted the glitter glue and he went to town, giving his eggs goatees and mustaches and bushy eyebrows and crazy hair and big noses, etc. Too.much.fun!!!

The secret to success

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,

When the funds are low and the debts are high,

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest, if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,

And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won had he stuck it out;

Don't give up though the pace seems slow--

You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than,

It seems to a faint and faltering man,

Often the struggler has given up,

When he might have captured the victor's cup,

And he learned too late when the night slipped down,

How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out--

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems so far,

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit--

It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.