Monday, August 29, 2011

There's a sad day coming.....

When Joe was in the Army, and we moved every few years, saying good-bye to friends was just part of the moving process. We'd have our household goods packed, we'd have travel arrangements made, and at some point before signing out of the unit, we'd say good-bye to our friends.

I don't want to say that we were 'good' at saying good-bye, we were just used to it. Joe would have to leave his buddies in the motor pool, I'd have to leave my neighbors and wives from the FRG, the boys would have to say good-bye to classmates.  It was part of our Army life.

Hank has never had to say good-bye to a friend. Well, not that he remembers. He was a little over a year old when we moved home from Georgia, and telling his partner in crime, Betsy, good-bye was not something that ranked on his list of emotional events. It wasn't like he ran out of Sweet Potato Puffs or something equally as traumatic. So, I'm a little worried how he's going to handle saying good-bye to two of his best friends and favorite playmates in a few weeks. I'm sure he'll give them a hug and say 'see ya later' like it's no big deal. I don't think it's hit him that they are moving to Texas and not just across town. He hasn't realized that he won't see them every day like he does now. I have a feeling that he's going to be a sad, pouting, little boy in a few weeks.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Rough Week

I have never been so glad to see a week come to an end as I am today. TGIF doesn't even begin to say it. This has been a really rough week for me. And, Hankadoo.

Poor Hank. First, he falls off his scooter and skins/bangs his knee up pretty bad. There was blood, and tears. He usually gets up, brushes himself off, and continues playing. When he came in the house with blood running down his leg, and crying, I was worried. We bandaged him up, put some ice on the knee, and he took some Motrin before going to bed. Poor kiddo took a bad fall. That was Monday. On Wednesday, his teacher calls. While playing at recess, Hank falls from the monkey bars. He basically did a face plant onto the mulch. His teacher said that his nose was bloody, and bruised but she didn't think it was broken. I think I need to buy stock in the Band-Aid company, and Neosporin. The knee is healing, but his poor little face still looks rough. His nose is bruised, swollen and scabbed. He has scratches on his cheek, and above his lips. I just want to say "Ouch" every time I see him. Oh, also on Wednesday, he had a nightmare that the crazy Nigerian guy that lives close to us was trying to handcuff him and his friend and take them to jail! He woke up scared, and wanted me hold his hand. He snuggled up so close to me that I couldn't have slid a piece of paper between us. Hank told me this morning, "I'm sure glad this week is over!"........ Me too, buddy!

And while dealing with banged up knees, bruised noses, and dreams about crazy men, I was also dealing with a few other things that have caused a little stress. There was some confusion, hurt feelings, drama and tears this week that left my sister not knowing if she even wants a baby shower. It's a huge mess that I hope gets worked out.  We're supposed to be celebrating, not having drama! My grandmother had a medical procedure over the weekend, and hasn't done real well this week. She also received some pretty crappy care at her follow-up visit, which makes me furious because she did exactly what her doctors and nurses told her to do.  While I was trying to learn something new at work,  my 'teacher' was an idiot and needed help herself. Don't blame me that it isn't working when I followed your instructions! Throw in the every day things to deal with like laundry, homework, supper, getting grumpy kids up in the mornings, and it makes for one rough week.

I'm ready for a few DVR'd episodes of "I Love Lucy", some pizza, and a cold beer!

Next week has to be better!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Patrick Swayze will always be my Johnny Castle


I read that they are making a remake of  "Dirty Dancing".... and my question is, WHY?
There's nothing wrong with the original. It's a classic. It's one of the best movies of all-time.

It doesn't matter what young hottie they get to play Johnny, noone can ever replace Patrick Swayze! Ever.

I can't see anyone but Jennifer Grey saying, "I carried a watermelon??"

How can you improve on something that is perfect the way it is? I say, if it's not broke, then don't fix it.




Saturday, August 6, 2011

Lucy & Ethel? Nope, it's Lucy and Austin!

What does this famous redhead


                                 and this good looking kid have in common? 

They share the same birthday! I didn't realize that until just a few minutes ago. I love the fact that my son and Lucille Ball share this day. 

Happy Birthday Austin. I love you. And, Lucy.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Eighteen? Seriously?

Tomorrow, Austin turns 18. EIGHTEEN! How has that happened? It doesn't seem possible.

When he was younger, maybe 12 or so, we were talking about tattoos and he said, "I'm getting my first tattoo the day I turn eighteen!"

Now, I can't say anything about getting a little ink. I have a tattoo and Joe has several. But, I don't think any parent ever wants to hear their child say they are getting a tattoo. Much less planning for it six years in advance! We came up with some conditions about getting a tattoo the very day he turned 18. They were:

1.It had to have the Mom Stamp of Approval. (I'm not going to say yes to the Hatchetman emblem or something else crazy representing the music he listens to)
2.It had to be a decent location. (Not on his knuckles, or God forbid, the side of his neck!)
3.It had to be something he won't regret later on in life. (Because really how many 40 year old men still like their Taz dunking a basketball tattoo they got when they were 18 and drunk? My guess is not many!)

He agreed to my conditions, and he's picked out a Celtic cross that he's getting done on his upper chest. I'm okay with this. What I'm not okay with is hearing, "why did you let him do that?" from my mother! But, I look at this way-- he's 18. I can't stop him. He can do it on his own. I may as well go with him to make sure he doesn't do something stupid that he'll regret. There's a lot of other ways a boy can celebrate his 18th birthday, what's a little ink?