Well, almost a month after she turned 9, we finally got to have her "party." We had thought about having it here at the house, but being in the middle of a constant remodel, it just wasn't gonna happen. So I decided to book a room at one of the local hotels and let her pick a few friends to invite. Since I'm always a fly by the seat of my pants kinda girl (the doctor calls it ADD) I talked to the moms of the girls between Tuesday and Thursday, and got the room booked and the party plans finished as I worked Friday.
So, friends invited, suite at the hotel paid for, plans to get the pizza and cake and meet the other girls at the Howard Johnson at 6 for a night of swimming, golf, shuffleboard, and girly giggles!
I had warned one of the moms that has recently moved to AC that even when I planned to be extra early, I was always running behind. Well to say the least, I exceeded my expectations!
I was working that day, so I brought one of her girlfriends home with us. Since she had a basketball game the next morning, I had to run by the house to grab her uniform and our suitcase. We got all of that done in plenty of time to run by Walmart, grab a cake, then run by Papa Johns to pick up the pizza. I called it in as I was checking out at Walmart, in order to give them plenty of time to have our pizzas ready and get to the hotel by 6.
YEAH RIGHT!! So I get to Papa Johns to pick up the pizzas, only to be told, "Your pizzas are being delivered."
Me: "Ummm, excuse me? My pizzas are what? I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE!!"
Guy: "Oh, really? You don't live at 1215 20th Street?"
Me: "No, I live 20 minutes out of town, and you wouldn't delivered if I wanted you to!"
Guy: "Well I don't know why they are being delivered, I'll call the delivery guy."
I stayed very calm, laughing this entire time. Because remember, if you don't laugh, you'll go crazy. ;) I called Keith to have him go to the hotel to meet the other girls while me, Ariel, Drew and Ally waited for the delivery guy to get back with my pizzas. Turns out they can't get in touch with him, so the manager decided to remake my order, for free. Sounds great, that's 50 bucks I don't have to spend. I called the other moms to let them know what was happening, and that we would be there once we got the pizzas, which we finally did almost an hour after promised. As I was getting the fresh pizzas my phone rings. The delivery guy had just walked past me and was calling to tell me he couldn't find my house. Really? NO WAY!?!? Ya think that's maybe because the address doesn't really exist? Again, we just laughed. The lady ahead of me that came to pick up her pizzas that were also being delivered wasn't so friendly.
So we got to the hotel, put everything in the room, and let the girls eat pizza. I commented to the other moms that I really thought I'd paid for a much nicer room, but didn't question it, since it wasn't going to be used for more than sleeping. The girls had a WONDERFUL time and Ariel declared it her best party ever.
So we go to check out the next morning so I can take the girls to breakfast at IHOP with the money I didn't have to use on pizza. The boys had gone home with mema. The lady at the hotel's desk was on the phone with her manager telling about how unhappy many of the guests were. I almost hated to mention the fact that I had to take a cold shower, but...she asked! Then she mentioned that I had paid for a family suite, but that was definitely NOT the room they put me in. Whew! I wasn't going crazy. Thankfully, I was able to call Hotels.com and they refunded a good portion of the room charges.
So we get to IHOP and are eating breakfast when Keith calls. Mema was planning on bringing Drew, Isaac and our nephew Ethan to him while she took her car in for an oil change. One problem! They had just called him to come to work. So instead, she brings the three boys to me at IHOP. The to say the least, looks and comments I got from the people in IHOP when I walked out the door with 7 kids BY MYSELF were priceless!
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
My granny...
I must say I love this lady with all my heart. She is no longer the woman I grew up living beside, because this horrible disease called Alzheimers has taken hold of her brain, but I love her as much today as I did on the fishing bank as a little girl. So I'm going to share her with you all. Granny was my daddy's mother, and to say the least he was a momma's boy until the day he died.
For as long as I can remember, my granny lived next door to us. In Amarillo when I was just a very young child, I remember her rescuing me from a horrible neighbor, who very likely would have done terrible things had she not noticed.
I don't remember walking to the beauty shop with her every week, but she always told of the time I hopped up in the chair and told the lady to "cut it all off!" Heck, that's what I want to tell them every time I get in the chair. Thankfully she stopped them just in time, because just like my husband, my daddy thought girls should have long hair.
Before I turned 5 and started school, we moved to a house in Graham. Granny lived just up the road, as did my Uncle and his family. Who needs friends when your cousins are just a short walk away? We all stayed with Granny while our parents worked. I'll never forget walking down to the river to fish with her. Even though it was a very steep decent, she could always make it down for countless hours of fishing.
We might as well have lived with her, we were all there so much. I remember one day she was cooking livers. How gross! But of course one of us wanted to "try" them, so the rest of us took the dare. OMG, that was the best thing we'd ever eaten! It wasn't until I was grown that she told me what we had really eaten was a pork chop. She didn't have enough liver, so she cooked a pork chop and shared that will all of us.
I'll also never forget making fun of Granny for farting. OMG, how gross! I promise I think of that day EVERY TIME I start farting with every step I take.
My aunt also lived with her for many years. If I learned anything from there relationship it is that no matter how old they are, siblings will ALWAYS fight! Those two ladies could go at it like my kids do today. But man could they cook. My poor husband was sure hoping I would inherit that part at least. Nope, he got the farting! When we first started dating, Sundays were family dinner days. One taste of Granny's deer meat and Aunt Belle's homemade biscuits, and it was a VERY long time before he had a Sunday lunch at his mom's house.
Even after we married, we always made time to go to Granny's house. Of course, she always had her famous fried chicken, Mexican food, or something else wonderful to eat. She is remembered in Amarillo to this day for being the Mexican food cook at the bowling alley.
Two years ago, things changed. After my dad passed away close to 6 years ago, she told us that she didn't have a reason to live. My dad worshiped the ground she walked on, and my mom was always there to care for her as well. Well around Thanksgiving of 2007, she started having some confusion, as well as some pain. Just before going into the hospital for gallbladder surgery, she lost most of her motor skills. Her daughters determined at that time that she would have to go to the nursing home. Even after being told for years that these were her wishes, when the time came, it was hard on EVERYONE. There were many tears shed, and still are. Dementia is a horrible disease to watch, but I must say through it we have stories to share. Up until recently, she's had phases where she was still very coherent. But during her confused phases, we have to laugh to keep from crying.
Not long after she was put in, my Aunt Ruby and I were in checking on her. She was still pretty weak, so we were helping her go to the bathroom. One of the aides walked past the door just enough for her to see. Of course, my aunt and I had to leave the room when she screams, "I think he raped me!" Nothing like that had ever come from her mouth, and the way it came out was so shocking and hilarious that it took us a bit to gather our composure. She has had more lesbian room mates that want to marry her than we can count. They are always hiding bodies in the nursing home, and there are gun battles nightly. One of the ladies is so very rich that she has diamonds stashed behind a picture in the wall. She also has a lady that she literally HATES. Mrs. Hoffman can't speak, and really does follow her around. Granny has on more than one occasion been not so kind to Mrs. H.
Of course one of the symptoms of Alzheimers is the paranoia. Someone is always taking things from them. For her, it's her snuff. Now this one Keith's thankful that I didn't choose to follow. She has always dipped Honest snuff. Before giving Granny a kiss, you must make sure her face is clean. Again, this has been the case for as far back as I can remember. I can't even begin to tell you how many different places we've found her snuff. During her last hospital visit, I asked a little too loudly for her liking if she needed a dip of snuff. To say the least, she cussed me, and told me that she hoped I was happy, because now they knew and would come steal it from her.
Dh and I took the kids to visit this weekend. Of course, for them, this isn't the Great Granny they knew just a short time ago. During this visit, we again played hide and seek with the snuff. Since she hides it from herself, it's always a challenge to figure out where she hid it last. She kept digging through her dresser, but it wasn't there. We checked the fridge, under the mattress, under the pillow, then I finally checked in the closet. There in the very corner, under a pile of dirty laundry was her small can of snuff. So of course, she needed a spoon and cup to get the stuff in her mouth, and then to spit in. In the few seconds it took me to get those, she had shoved the snuff down the front of her pants. She didn't have pockets, so of course Isaac cracked up when it came flying down her pants leg.
We got her a dip, then I put it back in her dresser. Nope, not there, they'll find it. So I put it back in her closet. Nope, not good enough. Back in the dresser, nope let's try the top of the closet. Nope, can't reach it there. Dresser. Closet Floor. Pillow. You get the idea! Finally she looked back in the dresser. When it wasn't there, she cussed the "church people."
During this, the lady across the hall came back with her son.
"You see that man over there?"
"Yes Granny, he's taking care of his mom."
"Nope, he's the one that's sexually assaulting all of us!"
"O.k. Granny! It's time for us to go, we love you."
Everyone got their snuff hugs and kisses and we headed back home. Is it wrong to laugh? Probably. Good Lord knows I'll probably be there one day. Does it help to laugh. You bet. I know that lady isn't my Granny. And boy do I miss the lady that helped raise me.
For as long as I can remember, my granny lived next door to us. In Amarillo when I was just a very young child, I remember her rescuing me from a horrible neighbor, who very likely would have done terrible things had she not noticed.
I don't remember walking to the beauty shop with her every week, but she always told of the time I hopped up in the chair and told the lady to "cut it all off!" Heck, that's what I want to tell them every time I get in the chair. Thankfully she stopped them just in time, because just like my husband, my daddy thought girls should have long hair.
Before I turned 5 and started school, we moved to a house in Graham. Granny lived just up the road, as did my Uncle and his family. Who needs friends when your cousins are just a short walk away? We all stayed with Granny while our parents worked. I'll never forget walking down to the river to fish with her. Even though it was a very steep decent, she could always make it down for countless hours of fishing.
We might as well have lived with her, we were all there so much. I remember one day she was cooking livers. How gross! But of course one of us wanted to "try" them, so the rest of us took the dare. OMG, that was the best thing we'd ever eaten! It wasn't until I was grown that she told me what we had really eaten was a pork chop. She didn't have enough liver, so she cooked a pork chop and shared that will all of us.
I'll also never forget making fun of Granny for farting. OMG, how gross! I promise I think of that day EVERY TIME I start farting with every step I take.
My aunt also lived with her for many years. If I learned anything from there relationship it is that no matter how old they are, siblings will ALWAYS fight! Those two ladies could go at it like my kids do today. But man could they cook. My poor husband was sure hoping I would inherit that part at least. Nope, he got the farting! When we first started dating, Sundays were family dinner days. One taste of Granny's deer meat and Aunt Belle's homemade biscuits, and it was a VERY long time before he had a Sunday lunch at his mom's house.
Even after we married, we always made time to go to Granny's house. Of course, she always had her famous fried chicken, Mexican food, or something else wonderful to eat. She is remembered in Amarillo to this day for being the Mexican food cook at the bowling alley.
Two years ago, things changed. After my dad passed away close to 6 years ago, she told us that she didn't have a reason to live. My dad worshiped the ground she walked on, and my mom was always there to care for her as well. Well around Thanksgiving of 2007, she started having some confusion, as well as some pain. Just before going into the hospital for gallbladder surgery, she lost most of her motor skills. Her daughters determined at that time that she would have to go to the nursing home. Even after being told for years that these were her wishes, when the time came, it was hard on EVERYONE. There were many tears shed, and still are. Dementia is a horrible disease to watch, but I must say through it we have stories to share. Up until recently, she's had phases where she was still very coherent. But during her confused phases, we have to laugh to keep from crying.
Not long after she was put in, my Aunt Ruby and I were in checking on her. She was still pretty weak, so we were helping her go to the bathroom. One of the aides walked past the door just enough for her to see. Of course, my aunt and I had to leave the room when she screams, "I think he raped me!" Nothing like that had ever come from her mouth, and the way it came out was so shocking and hilarious that it took us a bit to gather our composure. She has had more lesbian room mates that want to marry her than we can count. They are always hiding bodies in the nursing home, and there are gun battles nightly. One of the ladies is so very rich that she has diamonds stashed behind a picture in the wall. She also has a lady that she literally HATES. Mrs. Hoffman can't speak, and really does follow her around. Granny has on more than one occasion been not so kind to Mrs. H.
Of course one of the symptoms of Alzheimers is the paranoia. Someone is always taking things from them. For her, it's her snuff. Now this one Keith's thankful that I didn't choose to follow. She has always dipped Honest snuff. Before giving Granny a kiss, you must make sure her face is clean. Again, this has been the case for as far back as I can remember. I can't even begin to tell you how many different places we've found her snuff. During her last hospital visit, I asked a little too loudly for her liking if she needed a dip of snuff. To say the least, she cussed me, and told me that she hoped I was happy, because now they knew and would come steal it from her.
Dh and I took the kids to visit this weekend. Of course, for them, this isn't the Great Granny they knew just a short time ago. During this visit, we again played hide and seek with the snuff. Since she hides it from herself, it's always a challenge to figure out where she hid it last. She kept digging through her dresser, but it wasn't there. We checked the fridge, under the mattress, under the pillow, then I finally checked in the closet. There in the very corner, under a pile of dirty laundry was her small can of snuff. So of course, she needed a spoon and cup to get the stuff in her mouth, and then to spit in. In the few seconds it took me to get those, she had shoved the snuff down the front of her pants. She didn't have pockets, so of course Isaac cracked up when it came flying down her pants leg.
We got her a dip, then I put it back in her dresser. Nope, not there, they'll find it. So I put it back in her closet. Nope, not good enough. Back in the dresser, nope let's try the top of the closet. Nope, can't reach it there. Dresser. Closet Floor. Pillow. You get the idea! Finally she looked back in the dresser. When it wasn't there, she cussed the "church people."
During this, the lady across the hall came back with her son.
"You see that man over there?"
"Yes Granny, he's taking care of his mom."
"Nope, he's the one that's sexually assaulting all of us!"
"O.k. Granny! It's time for us to go, we love you."
Everyone got their snuff hugs and kisses and we headed back home. Is it wrong to laugh? Probably. Good Lord knows I'll probably be there one day. Does it help to laugh. You bet. I know that lady isn't my Granny. And boy do I miss the lady that helped raise me.
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