Not funny ha, ha, just a little funny.
I have felt overly sentimental with the death of my Grandmother, a feeling I don’t deal with well. But, a constant is now gone. It seems odd to me that I am being so emotional about a woman who never was. She was the funny one, the fun one, and those of us in the family who are funny, and we know who we are, got it from her. She showed us how to laugh out loud and taught us how to laugh with others as well as at ourselves. I just can’t laugh today off because I realize how much more I am like her than not.
Sobering Truth
One of the interesting things about being a mom is you can relate to other moms. You will have personal conversations with women who are total strangers and these conversations range from funny and cool, to totally uncomfortable, and they can happen anywhere at any time. Mine was this afternoon, in line at the deli waiting to order sandwiches. Azul was with me, of course, and the older woman behind us started the conversation with, “He is adorable.” I gave the polite nod and a “Thank you.” She continued, “I remember when my sons were that age, they’re adults now, but when they are that age, they just love you and think you’re great and there is no better connection than a boy with his mom. Then they become teenagers and they don’t want to have anything to do with you and don’t even like you, like they did when they were little. Oh, the teenage years are rough, then they become adults and love you again and tell you, you were right and you weren’t so hard on them when they were teenagers and they really appreciate what you’ve done for them.” She continued talking without taking a breath or a break for me to join in the conversation. So, I waited, listening, smiling and nodding. Then I said, “Well, I plan to spend his teenage years much like I spent my own…drunk.” Not sure if it was a laugh or an awkward snicker I got in return.
Pussy Control
Initially when I looked like this…
I wanted to start this entry with, “I hate my cat,” but many things have changed in the past few weeks.
We have had a cat for more than a year and Azul loves her, he picked her and even picked her name, Eddie. I have had a very different relationship with her. First, I am severely allergic to her, which is why I look like the picture posted. Eddie is a beautiful long haired orange tabby, who sheds A LOT! I have had her groomed many times to get the excess hair off of her, I have rubbed a solution I got from the Vet on her to ease my allergy and I have resorted to having her shaved. Which was by far the cruelest thing, at that point, I had done to her. She looked awful without hair; well, she did have hair on her legs from her knees down, so she looked like she was naked and wearing Ugg Boots. Second, she has a piercing meow and she prefers to exercise her voice early in the morning, while we are trying to sleep. Although it is irritating, it is a little easier to deal with than the other things. Finally, she of course scratches. My furniture! She has the scratching post, floor mat and even sprays that I used to try to train her not to scratch my furniture. She has ruined two chairs and started in on the couch — this is where I drew the line. I took her to get caps on her little fabric ripping tools. She rebelled and ripped them off, so the fight was on, and I would replace them. This pattern went on for months and I was desperate, so I resorted to torture. I made an appointment with the Vet, left her there for a couple of days and she returned a changed cat. I didn’t want to do it and I feel a little bad about it, but having her claws removed is the best thing I could have done. I’m still allergic, but no more scratching, and the pre-sunrise calls have ended. Last night she finally sat on my lap and decided to be my friend again. I won the war and our little Eddie Girl is the sweetest thing around.
Carmelina Hart 