The Waiting Game

I would love it if someone could explain to me why most women ( at least all those I know ) have , for our entire lives, played the waiting game.
We wait, from the time we are little girls, for the "right man" to come along so we can have "the wedding" and I put it parentheses becasue it will , without doubt be THE most wonderful, romantic, costly, beautiful AMAZING wedding in the world, bar none. And when we start waiting for this, it doesnt actually matter who " he " will be , because its the wedding , at this age that matters.
At some point , it does become about the who "he" is. Not a huge part, truth be told, because for the most part its still about waiting for the wedding itself.
Then the who does matter...and we wait. Is he smart enough, handsome enough, successful enough, kind enough, romantic enough....are any of his attributes " enough"??? Well...maybe, provided the wedding is going to be good enough.
Then we wait...until he proposes...until we accept and set a date ( and some men wait YEARS for this part ) until the day actually comes around. The waiting for the date and the day is enough to send some of us around the bend and cause us to become bridezilla.....or just plain nuts ( rather redundant, I know ).
So, the day comes. It is done.
Now we wait...for him to come home from work...to have time to spend with us ( and I guarrantee its not the same before as after...since HE no longer has to wait for us there is no urgency on his part ) to tell us how much he 1) loves us 2) misses us 3) wants to spend every waking moment with us . No. All that is over. Now , once again...we wait.
Maybe next we wait for ....a first child to be born ....*yawnnnnn* this usually takes 40 weeks...to us that is the same as several decades and to him its over in the blink of an eye. Sorta. He usually notices A) our ankles have swelled B) we are NOT interested in sex after the baby internally is the size of a small watermelon or C) we cant see our feet and we are , therefore, not as sexually available as prior to this blessed occurrance. Duh.
So the blessed event eventually occurs. Again , duh.
Now we wait ...what is it? 6, 8, 10 weeks before we again can satisfy ...
Then we wait till it doesnt hurt.
Then we wait till our bodies get back in shape ( ya, right ) .
Then , assuming we dont repeat the last few sentences again and again and again..which I admit I did....we wait.
To be the most important part of his life.
Wait to be more important than his parents...his job...all the other things we have been waiting for since day one and guess what?
It does not happen.
So at this point...I am waiting ( shocking isnt it??) to be primary in his life, for not having to wait for all this crap to be done and I STILL have to wait.
Cant get him on the phone without waiting.....
Still not as important as his (mother, brother, job ...name it...I still dont rank in the top 3) ...still waiting.
And I have to wonder, at this point in my life, if this is what God put me here to learn.
To wait.
Have I mentioned I dont wait well ?
Nothing like stating the obvious.

Update on Gertie (who is so not a gecko)

Checked with the pet store and Gertie the not-a-gecko is still hanging in there although her babies did not survive. She is still in shock and her back legs dont work and NO I am not adopting her.

Lions and tigers and LIZARDS??? oh my...

Today started like most other days, with me doing pom poop patrol...scraping , spraying ( and trying not to gag ). While engaging in this lovely activity the dogs started going totally bezerk, nutso WILD! And Bikki, our blonde uber-alpha and who also happens to be 1) overweight 2) extremely bitchy in addition to being a bitch and 3) the only "hunter" among the poms, had something in her mouth and was shaking the living crap out of it, literally.
I rushed to try and rescue whatever it was, praying it wasnt a rat or some other rodent, only to find out it was a huge (ok, huge to me in the reptile dept. is anything over 3 inches and this baby was in the 9-10 inch catagory) jackson's chameleon.
And hanging from this prehistoric looking reptiles mouth was what appeared to be its stomachs ( do they have more than one ??) or something that could definately have been pre-born lizard babys. Bikki had bitten it then shaken her head repeatedly and whatever this reptilian's innards were, they came out through its mouth. Neophyte that I am when it comes to any and all reptiles, this was not ok.....actually completely and totally GROSS is what it was.
Still , I could not let the dog eat it ( ackkkkk ) or kill it...soooooo, using the dog ( clean of course ) pooper scooper, I gently (?) shoveled it into a shoebox and watched. It did not die.
So I called our pet store ( they sell these prehistoric critters AND the bugs they eat ...another hearty ACKKKKKK ) and agreed to take "it" for observation. Which they did ( after I had taped that sucker into a box sooo well - with air holes , of course , that even godzilla could not have gotten out.
Then I googled jackson's chameleon.
They do indeed give birth to live babys and what had come out this girl's mouth ( yes, ugly as she was, it was a she )
was preborn babies.
Didnt know ( thanks wiki ) they could have between 8 and 30 babies. But , yes a girl and yes , she is at the pet store. Will call tomorrow to see if anything survived...how it managed to live the 4 hours plus after the attack is beyond me.
So....according to Tia, this is just the kind of thing my mother would have done. And I do admit that my mom was willing and did rescue anything that walked...I just am pretty sure that she never rescued anything scaled, slithery or that had a tongue that could zap stuff from half-way across the room. Cats, dogs.....never lizards.
Still....one of His creatures ( have to ask Him at some point " Lord WHAT were you thinking...with mosquitoes, flies and reptiles????) and I have done the best I could.
I did not run screaming ( scream factor of reptiles is wayyyyy above flying cockroaches by the way ) and I have tried to get it help, while not allowing it to be eaten.
Brownie points, right ????

A man works from sun to sun but woman's work.....

...is never done. It is a recurring thought I have about "retirement" and what exactly that means. Because I dont get to...retire. I am pretty sure no matter what , that John is still going to expect meals and clean clothes. I am pretty sure he will expect those nice new toilets to get scrubbed ( no, they are not the self-cleaning models dang it!) And I imagine when the dust is thick enough to plant things in, he will expect me to get rid of it. So while he is busy building things or buzz cutting the trees or whatever else it is that men do when they retire to stay busy (and keep their wives from chasing them around the house with sharp knives or other implements of destruction), I will be doing what I have been doing since I was 18. Except now I am slower...and slower. And its more painful... squatting to clean behind the toilet has never been easy but now its torture and I cant help but wonder who looks back there anyway?? Well, aside from me, I mean.
So about that retirement thing......how does that work for women?

Fathering a child...so different from being a father

My family history is definately more about the mothers than fathers. My mother's grandfather was one of those mean german patriarchs who never smiled and didnt seem to love anyone or anything. You have seen pictures of men like him : grim looking and rather frightening. Fortunately for her, he died young. That seems harsh but apparently living with him was no treat. He was miserable and made everyone else miserable too.
My mother and her mother lived with them since my grandfather was in the Navy and on the go all the time. Then my mother's father got a splinter in his finger ( weeks before sulfa drugs came out ) and he died of blood poisoning when she was in the 5th grade.
My own father, Buck, was less than great in the "being a father" department. He liked being with his friends, out and about, more than he liked being present in my life. Mom decided we could do without the drama and trauma of all that he brought to the table. Divorce. Mind you , I still got to go see him but even that was something less than wonderful. I never knew which girlfriend he would be with or if she would be kid friendly. The one he eventually married was not. At least not to me. I was 12 when he remarried....got to spend part of the year with them in Salt Lake City but that was the last time I visited with them. She had a miscarriage and said it was my fault ( apparently I was sooo awesome that I had life or death powers over the unborn). For years I believed that. He also sexually assualted me that last visit....another reason I wasnt ever keen to go again. Ah well....
Then there was ( is ) my step-father who dumped my mom after 17 years of marriage so he could revisit his past with an old flame. Although he was an amazing man who actually did the father job of raising me, the hostility I felt ( feel ?) about what he did to my mom overshadowed all the good things. From this distance ( and advanced age ) I see that nothing in that situation was about me, per se, and forgive him. Still......it could and should have been so different for her.
Which brings me to the father of my own children.
What a difference. He was up in the middle of the night when they were babies, changing diapers, rocking them, loving them the way a father should. Something that even as recently as the 70's ( dont chuckle, it seems recent to me!) men simply did not do. He was in the delivery room for every birth....and has remained a part of their lives ever since. He is the one they respect above all others....he is the one they love beyond measure. He is the one they know they can turn to when their lives are falling apart and they KNOW without doubt that he will be there. He is their strength and support. He is their biggest fan club. He simply loves them.
And that is the difference between fathering a child and being a father.
What a blessing...what a gift from God that my children have this man in their lives.
What a blessing to me...to finally see and know what being a father is, up close and personal.
What a gift that they will never know what its like to be without that love.

I hope there is food in heaven

Looking over the cookbooks in the kitchen I realized some of them are paperback copies of some that I have in hard back version. And the paperbacks arent even mine...they were my mom's.
Three in particular stand out, not because they are different but because each of them have scores of sticky notes attached , the name of each item hand written for ease of locating them, sticking out of the pages.
Since my mom died I have always fantasized about finding a note, written just to me, hidden somewhere no one but I would look. Something...anything. Well, this was a message, even if she didnt mean it to be.
After going through all the recipes something did indeed strike me. All those recipes were of things she never got to cook and never got to eat in the last 20 yrs of her life. She was married to a man who liked almost nothing except meat and potatoes ( with the occasional chicken thrown in for good measure).
All of the recipes are for things like asparagas soup, stuffed bells, swordfish....not your everyday menu but guarranteed things that my mother wished for and never got to eat.
She knew Jesus as her savior and I hope to see her in heaven but it is also my fervent wish, no prayer, that there is food in heaven for my mom to feast on...all those things she couldnt have while here on earth. I was blessed to be able to spend the last 10 days she had on earth with her and I did cook whatever she asked for. I just had no idea how many things she missed and wished for over all those miserable years.
If there is a divine, all you can eat buffet, you will find my mom there, partaking of the rare and unusual ( sweetbreads for pity's sake!!) eating her fill and as she did here, keeping her girlish figure.
mmmmm....mmmmm

Some days its not even worth chewing through the restraints

I guess everyone has those days. This is one for me. Nothing is particularly wrong, but nothing is right either. The move seems overwhelming....too much crap ( still, even after a yard sale ) and not enough time. We have wayyy too much stuff, period. And I am more than willing to purge most of it...no problem. Yes, problem. Too much to think about rationally. Oh well, being rational has never been one of my strong points.
Then there is the house problem. Zack wont be able to stay in his room ( is this a good thing for him?? is he even being considered ?? ) there isnt enough space for Tia's family even though this house is roughly double in size, even though we managed with 5 kids before it was enlarged. How being in a bigger, nicer house is a bad thing I am not sure I understand. Maybe with all the crap going on it would be better for him to be in a group home. I dont need him feeling like he is unwanted or that he is a burden. Maybe the best thing would be for him to just move with us and sell this house. I cannot believe how much trouble this is....this was supposed to be the best for everyone but that INCLUDED Zack. It just makes me sick to my stomach.
Dont know what Melissa is going to do...come for awhile, go back ...stay for awhile...how long? No one knows. What are we going to do with her stuff in the meantime...she cant afford storage and her stuff cant stay here as I have been told in no uncertain terms. All I do know is that what was supposed to be a good thing suddenly isnt. ( not really sudden I guess since we have been waiting to find out what the hell is going on for months now). Why are we always the last to know???
At the very least I have no doubt any longer that leaving is absolutely the best thing we can do. I am so tired of all of this. I dont care who "gets" the house anymore. Maybe selling is the best option. Or not. I give up. Someone wake me when the nightmare is over.

Happy Birthday to Gracia Ruth : )

A truly great birthday for Miss Gracie ( how did she get to be 2 so quickly...and for that matter, its not possible that Keiferman is 18 ...holycrap ) No drama and at this age Gracie still likes the wrapping as much as the gift inside. She was DEFINATELY not ok with lighting the candles on fire ....eyes got big as saucers ....you could be pretty sure she was thinking " helllooooooo, why are you setting my cake on fire, people?????". What a fun, no stress, enjoyable birthday party!!
Its like my mom usta say " the older you get , the more like a train going downhill " refering to the passing of time. I am pretty sure just last month Keith was a baby (no way he turned 18 in December) and Tia was still in high school.
(HUGE SIGH)
Now Tia's 3rd isnt a baby.
(HUGEST SIGH)

Good thing my friend in Holland sends me perpetual calendars to keep track of birthdays !!!! Melissa and Tom's baby will make grandkidlet number 9...wow.

Cough

Old and older

wow

It's a dogs world.....and various other thoughts.

I am a bad pom mom...I dont brush dog teeth. After spending over a thousand dollars to get teeth cleaned, pulled ( some , not all ...they arent down to gumming their food yet ) anal glands expressed ( gladly pay for that little treat ) nails clipped and blood work for heartworm ( all negative...kinda seems redundant since we have them on heartworm preventative ) they are almost ready to travel to New Mexico.
Now what I have to do is start getting them used to crates. Since they will be doing a fair amount of traveling, both by plane and by car, its a good idea to introduce them before hand.

Other random things....
Have decided on the moving company ( Beakins ) and on a landscaper ( Pacheco's) but we are still waiting for the builder to let us know if he is going to trade our 1 acre property in Angel Fire that is undeveloped for finishing the man cave downstairs.
The man cave is a necessity since John's new TV is the size of a small car and I dont really want that in the main living room. If it is downstairs he can blast the surround sound and hopefully it wont rattle my teeth upstairs. What is the deal with men and ginormous TV's??? The screen is so big you can see nose hair and enlarged pores on people....ack.
The mini cooper still hasnt sold....and I still wish it wouldnt . We got a Ford Escape when we were back in the mainland and its ok. Mini Explorer ...sigh.

It is almost quiet here.....

Jessie and Jonathan are back in Colorado, Bella and Melissa are in North Carolina so its just me and John and Zack ( and 6 dogs and too many fish to count). Except for the traffic noise 18 hours a day, police, fire or ambulance sirens at least 5 times in 24 hours, dogs howling in harmony with said sirens and various other enjoyable audio experiences, its quiet here. Mostly. Sorta.
Well, not exactly like Angel Fire. Guess which I prefer?

Home again, home again....

After a few rather damp days in Oregon ( beautiful, beautiful state, where absolutely EVERYthing is green and growing (including the sidewalks, tops of fences and roofs ) we returned home last night. We spent those days with Josh and LIz ( and Sonic and Moose the poms) and had a good visit. I do love Oregon and their Marionberry Jam is unbelievable and it was great to see the kids but it was good to sleep in our own bed again.
The NM house is coming together but I am glad for the respite prior to the big move. The tenative date is 13 Aug and there is tons to do before then. These will busy weeks!! We still have to make a final decision on the moving company....I am not taking much but what I am taking I would like to arrive in one piece : )

Leavin on a jet plane...and I am kinda sick of it

It is a hard thing being neither here nor there...and I can not stand planes. Bring this leave that wait for whatever....I just want to be settled again.