Wordless Wednesday - Children

Join my blog buddy, Dixie, over at the French Lique blog, to participate in Wordless Wednesday.

Update

I feel like I've just come back from the Twilight Zone... and without a Restraining Order. Apparently, you can't get a Restraining Order (called a Protective Order here) until something actually happens to you. That's the bad news. The good news? The restraining order my daughter has covers me for the days Brayden is here with me. I do need to take a copy of it to my local police department and explain to them what's going on. The better news? The magistrate gave me a few things I can do BEFORE he gets out of prison... send a copy of the letters to his probation officer so he/she can make staying away from me and my house a condition of his probation, send a letter to the prison board that reviews early releases, so he won't be released early, and... take a copy of the letters to my local police department and possibly file criminal charges for harassment (the magistrate wasn't sure about that one, as she had not read the letters herself). Yes, everyone who commented is absolutely right -- I should have sent the letters back RTS (Return to Sender) and that's exactly what I did for a long time. Then one letter came that had "this concerns Brayden's health so please read" and I did... (and it didn't) and since then I've been opening them. No more. They'll go straight back. I think I'll even take a pen with me out to the mailbox to write RTS right then and there and not even bring the envelope into the house. The gun suggestions... well, no. That's not going to happen. For one thing, I have a three year old in the house part time. Secondly, I couldn't live with myself if any type of gun accident happened. I'm not the most level-headed person in emergencies or overly-stressful situations. No, that's not an option. So... I move on. I dislike the fact I lost an entire day to this guy, but I do feel better to have the information I now have. Thanks to everyone who commented for your support and understanding. We now return you to your regular programming....

May you never have to post this in your blog...

Today I have to go to the county court building to get a Restraining Order. How sad is that? How sad is it that someone else's stupidity is causing this kind of turmoil in my life. How sad is it that I have to think fearful thoughts? How sad is it that I jump a mile when someone rings my doorbell? I'm furious that this kind of thing has even entered my life. I do not lead the kind of life that requires restraining orders, you know? Good people leading good lives don't have to get Restraining Orders. I've mentioned my soon-to-be-ex-son-in-law before. I actually liked the young man when he first came into my daughter's life, though he wasn't the person I would have chosen for her. He had a horrid family life as a child, and made horrid decisions as a young adult. But you give people a second chance when they seem willing to make a change, don't you? I thought so. I'm not so sure I do anymore, though. Now he's in prison and rightfully so. Two counts of felony child endangerment, among other charges. If you read my blog, you know my world evolves around my 3 yr old grandson. He is the sweetest, funniest, smartest, most loving child on the face of the earth. This is the child that was endangered. This is the child whose very life was at risk twice by the stupidity of his father. Unfortunately, "stupidity" isn't a criminal act, or the guy would have gotten a life sentence. Now I'm getting prison mail... and it's a display of a nonsensical thought process that scares me to death. For some bizarre reason, this "man" thinks he's going to sachet out of prison right back into our lives as if nothing has happened. If he says he's sorry enough, the burn scars on my grandson's legs will magically disappear. He's now apparently thinking he'll be Father of the Year and Husband of the Year and Son-in-Law of the Year with just a little more practice and, of course, our forgiveness. I nearly throw up just thinking about it. I want to grab my grandson and run. I don't normally let his mail get to me (or even read them.) But the last few are purely "passive aggressive". Offering ME the opportunity to "stab or even shoot" him. Oh... my... God... How does that thought process even occur to any normal person??? He also states he's coming to my house "even if you don't want me to" when he's released from prison -- sometime in the next few months. So today I head to court for a restraining order. Today I call the alarm system people and have our house alarm system upgraded. My daughter already has a restraining order in place, but it doesn't cover my house. Today my husband stated he has a billy club in his closet and we should place it by the front door. Today my daughter suggested I buy a tazer at the flea market. Today my world has officially changed, and I hate it.

Grandma got run over by a flying saucer

We have a SMALL hill (more of a dip than a hill) in our back yard -- you can see it in the photo here. In flat southwestern Ohio, this little dip was THE sliding spot in our neighborhood when my kids were small, despite the fact the ride on the sled took all of 3 seconds -- as opposed to the 90 second "hills" I grew up with in New Hampshire. With more forethought than I normally exhibit, I purchased a "flying saucer" at a yard sale last summer. Yesterday was THE BIG DAY for introducing Brayden to sliding (as we called it in New Hampshire -- "sledding" to others). Jeff was home for the day, so we dragged him outside with us in the 15 degree weather. He had to shovel 8 inches of frozen ice-encrusted snow away from the front of the shed door so we could get the flying saucer -- which turned out to be in the garage. Flying saucer, piece of rope, everyone looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy in a riot of winter clothing and colors... off to the "hill" we go. At first a little leary of sitting on the funny red circle of a flying saucer, I finally convince Brayden that he's going to "fly like the wind" and to sit down. I give him a push. Ka chunk ka chunk push! ka chunk ka chunk push! Hmmm... slower than I expected, which meant Brayden was thinking this was NOT going to be as much fun as I'd explained to him. I'm still determined. so I convince a very reluctant Jeff to go down next, so HE can show Brayden how much fun it is! Jeff gets on -- legs and feet waving out in front of him (flying saucers were not made for 6 foot tall big guys) -- I give him a BIG push - ka chunk, ka chunk, PUSH! ka chunk ka chunk.... sigh. We practically had to PULL him down the entire hill. Brayden's thinking his grandparents made this whole "fly like the wind" thing up. He's losing interest. He's having more fun flinging snow at Joey the Killer Cat. Next, Brayden wants ME to get in the flying saucer so he can pull me down the hill -- which he now assumes is how this whole sliding thing goes. I figure I've watched Brayden go down the hill at zero miles per hour, Jeff go down the hill at zero miles per hour - what's the harm in letting the poor kid pull me down the hill? I plop my big ol' lady butt down on the flying saucer and before you can say "Holy crap I'm going 90 mph" I'm flying down the hill, hat flying off in the air, hair whipping out behind me.... headed for the WOODS! Brayden is practically peeing his pants laughing, Jeff is standing at the top of the hill with his mouth hanging open -- and I'm trying to stop myself from being beheaded by tree limbs. After I recover and pull the snow out of my glasses, my ears and my hair, Brayden now thinks this is the coolest thing EVER! "Do it again, Umma!" I try to convince him that HE should try another ride because he might go fast this time (now that I've got the trail blazed) -- but Nooooo! "I want to watch YOU do it!" So now Brayden thinks the fun part of sliding is watching Grandma go arse over tea kettle into the woods. When Mary came to pick Brayden up last evening, she asked him if he had a good day. He said, "Yes! We went outside and Umma went SO fast she was flying like the wind!" Mary looked at me and shook her head, and I just gulped down three more Motrin and smiled back at her. Luckily, no one was around with a movie camera. But picture this: OK, it only FELT that fast. Believe what you want -- just pass me the Motrin and my Grandma of the Year Award.

Give Adam some Love

Do you have adult children? Do you want to feel like Mother of the Year? Go this blog - Please Don't Eat Sushi! Love, Mom It is one of the funniest blogs on the net -- because it's TRUE. You can thank me later. Adam's Mom does what ALL of us mom's WANT to do, but somehow know better. Leave Adam a comment, k? The poor guy deserves some love after all his Mom has put him through over the years.

Snow in greater Cincinnati

NOW I’m humming Christmas carols! Better late than never!

A day in the life of… a housewife!

Pack my husband’s lunch – roast beef roll-up, cheese crackers, diet pudding, diet root beer.

Throw in a load of laundry…

Dishes into the dishwasher

Take my vitamins

Clean up the crock pot that soaked overnight

Clean up kitchen sink and counters

Menu planning

Enjoy a cup of coffee while watching the birds out the kitchen window

 

Toy pick-up in the family room

Quick trip to the library

Do some sock knitting

Fix supper – oh no! The shake n’ bake bag broke…

Sweep the floor & clean up the mess, continue with dinner

Feed Joey the killer cat

And lots more I never took photos of!

What a lovely life I have!