For obligatory apology, see here and/or here.
What to do, what to do....I am having a really hard time trying to find a balance between family time and "me time." Because "me time " is the only time that I have to post or check email or read everyone else's blogs. In the not too distant past I tried to merge "me time" and family time with less than stellar results. I found myself saying "Wait a minute. I'll get you some milk/supper/attention after I finish this post. Which then turns into "..when I finish reading this person's post."
I had to ask myself, when did reading about other people's lives and children become more important than living my own life and spending time with my children. While SD was gone, blogging was my refuge. I got so much wonderful support from my blog friends and I felt a little less alone. But, I was using my time with the kids to do so. I am needing to find balance and it's not easy.
I am really tired of whining here. I used to have a sense of humor. My kids do really freaking funny things every day. And I should just get on and share the little tidbits. I guess I'm afraid that if I turn on the computer, I will be here for six hours and that's no good. A little self control would be helpful here. Does Amazon sell that? No, I didn't think so.
So, the funeral and the trip down there wasn't as bad as I was afraid it was going to be. In fact it was, I am somewhat ashamed to say...fun. It seems like such a cliche` to say that we all only get together for weddings and funerals, but it's true. And this time I got to meet cousins I had never really seen before. Or at least not in at least 15 years. And given that they were small children then, it was cool to get to know them. One cousin who is getting married in the Spring declared that I must come to the wedding because I am one of the "cool cousins." And for my down in the dumps, frumpy feeling 37 year old self to be declared cool by a 25 year old was very satisfying indeed. Of course it's not too much of a challenge to seem cool when the other cousins are self-righteous teetotalers who really have no clue how to have fun. (did I say that out loud?) We are considering havin a secret family reunion. You are only invited if you can kick back and have a beer with us. Or at least not judge us if we do enjoy and adult beverage or two.
My poor grandmother was so confused. She, at times, had no idea who any of us were. She thought that the "cool cousin" was me because she had long blonde hair like I used to. However this cousin also has these huge b00bs, so that should have been a dead give away. My grandmother did come up to me and tell me how pretty I was several times, though. Really. She would come up and stroke my cheek and say, "You're so pretty!" She had no clue who I was or what I was doing there. And it was hard not to laugh when I was showing her pictures of the kids and she kept saying things like, "Now what's that one's name? How old is he?" I hope people are nice to me when I am old. I totally won't deserve it.
The drive itself was fairly uneventful. It was strange to be in the car with just my parents and my brother. It was almost like I was twelve again. But without the choking on cigarette smoke or the "he's touching me" game. Oh, and I had to drive part of the way. The trip down was almost pleasant until we got stuck in Houston traffic and I had to pee so bad I seriously would have gone in my pants but I would have never been able to live THAT down. Daddy finally pulled into a McDonald's so that I could potty. Two minutes later, we were at my cousins'. Natch.
The drive home would have been okay except that I had a horrendous migraine and my mother would not shut the fuck up. She had something to say about every billboard, every restaurant and every other driver on the road. She's lucky that the migraine had rendered me almost paralyzed or I might have reached up there and ripped her vocal cords out. It was a satisfying fantasy, anyway.
I arrived back home to a clean house and happy children. And damn SD for being able to maintain things while I was gone. I never can commiserate with other wives about the whole house-falling-apart-after-I-was-gone-for-only-three-days thing. He does a damn good job at that and I am so grateful.
The marriage? It seems...better....I think. You know, nobody tells you how hard it is being married. Or staying married anyway. But, damn it's a lot of work. It should really be in the pamphlet. I think it is a miracle that my grandparents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary just before he died. Because he was an old curmudgeon. I would have divorced his ass long ago. Love is indeed a many splendored thing.
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