If you can't make it better you can laugh at it. ~Erma Bombeck


Wednesday, January 30, 2008


... the cats will play.

Well, crew, I'm off again on another family "adventure." This time to Dallas to help get my elderly aunt moved into an assisted living facility. But I couldn't leave without providing a parting giggle or two. Enjoy!


Day number 180
Day number 181
Day number 182
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!...


DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair ... must try this on their bed.

DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan.

DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer". More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...

Sunday, January 27, 2008

NEWS FLASH! Damama endures hell week and lives to tell the story!

Hey gang! I’m BACK!!! Thank you all for your wonderful well wishes and emails encouraging me to hang in there. And get the job done. And get my (not so) scrawny tail end back here. Now, as promised, here is my week in a nutshell:

Sunday – PANIC ATTACK #1: Spent 5 hours tearing apart every nook and cranny in Daughter’s room looking for her Texas State ID. Needless to say (but since when did that stop me??) it WAS NOT in her green wallet as reported so confidently during our visit on Saturday. Hubby finally found it in the back of the top of the closet in the bottom of a large black canvas tote bag that she has not carried in months. I had already looked in that bag and had missed it. HUBBY IS MY MIRACLE MAN because not once did he give up or complain about having to do this.

Monday – PANIC ATTACK #2: Spent 8 hours driving to every #@&%^$ store within a 50-mile-radius trying to find gray gym shorts made of t-shirt material and with no pockets or logos. (Yes, I called several first, but kept being told, “Sure we have those” only to arrive at the store and find that they were the mesh kind. With pockets. And logos. Hence, the driving frenzy.) I thought I’d solved the problem before Christmas by ordering them online when nobody had them then because they were out of season. And they were still out of season on Monday night when I finally gave up and came home crying to Hubby again because I had no idea what I was going to do at that point. Up jumped MIRACLE MAN again, and with his lightening quick fingers and keen sense (that’s all. not sense of something. just sense – as in he had some where mine was way long g.o.n.e), immediately found a reliable supplier on the Web.

Note to wise: Do not order things on the internet from places you have never heard of just because the item seems affordable. Not everyone honors their stated shipping schedules.
  • Internet purchase #1 - $53.20
  • Gas to look for replacement for Internet purchase #1 – $65.18 (Gas plus lunch out)
  • Internet purchase #2 - $84.00
  • Guaranteed delivery by Thursday $13.90
  • Returning Internet purchase #1 – Don’t know because it’s not here YET. On the up side (I can’t say that phrase now without thinking, “Hi, Kellan!”), the charge hasn’t hit my credit card yet, either. Hopefully, if their telephone wasn’t burned to a crisp after my very heated call, they got my message and just dropped the whole thing.
  • Having my very best friend and personal hero as my husband: PRICELESS!
Tuesday – My regular 160-mile round trip day. Thankfully, it was sans the need to go to Lowe’s and risk running into Oggy again! (I now refuse to go to Lowe’s on Tuesdays for fear I’ll find him there waiting with flowers and moonshine in hand, and that drunk snaggletoothed donkey grin plastered hopefully across his grizzled old face!)

Wednesday – PANIC ATTACK #3: D’s Social Security Card was missing from the folder where it is always kept. The very military-minded attendance people at the school said that they required the ORIGINAL. Her birth certificate was there. The Order of Name Change from the adoption was there. The receipts from when we ordered her Texas ID, her new birth certificate and new Social Security card were there. BUT THE ORIGINAL SS card was MISSING! There was, however, a copy of the SS card with her new name on it in the folder because when I showed the original to the entrance application reviewer at the school he’d made two copies by accident and gave me the extra. THANK GOD HE REMEMBERED THIS because I’d made a big, goofy deal out of not wasting paper (see, Mom Thing, I’m greening up too!). And because he had seen her original card with his own two eyes they agreed to allow me to submit the copy as long as I had an application for another new card attached. Crisis averted, I went to Rita’s to help her unpack some stuff.

Thursday – FIBRO MELTDOWN – All the stress finally caught up with me. I spent most of the day incapacitated, being pampered by Hubby who had taken the day off to help me get the rest of the $700+ worth of supplies labeled and bagged. He cooked and cleaned and waited on me hand and foot most of the day. Every time I tried to do anything he ordered me back to the couch and asked what I needed. This has been his MO for over 26 years. He takes such good care of me! God, I am crazy blessed with this man! He is truly my One in a Million. And the best thing of the day – THE SHORTS ARRIVED!

Friday – PANIC ATTACK #4 – The copy of the SS card was missing. I COULD NOT, nay, WOULD NOT, call those people again and ask if I could get a copy of their copy to turn in with the admissions packet. I tore through the house un-cleaning everything Hubby cleaned yesterday trying to find one stupid piece of paper. After calling Rita to tell her why I was running late to come pick her up, I sat down one more time at my desk to cry a few poor pitiful me tears. And while shuffling stuff around again found the copy paperclipped to the back of a fax I’d sent the doctor requesting that she fill out medical prescription forms. Wondering what part of my anatomy my head was stuck in when I clipped those documents together, and when that might have occurred, we headed:
  • 23 miles into The City to get Rita’s pay check and go to the Social Security office to order yet another card
  • 68 miles out to the County Juvenile Residential Center School to pick up the dismissal paperwork
  • 38 miles back to our town to the Jr. High to pick up Rita’s son, Young Brat (WHAT? That’s not ugly! I can call him Young Brat since he insists on calling me Old Lady!)
Saturday – VEG DAY!!!! Yes, I said it and I DID IT! Hubby and I pretty much vegged out all day. We rechecked the duffle bags to make sure everything was there. I rechecked all the paperwork to make sure the admissions packet was complete. And neither of us got out of our PJs until after 3:00 when we were hungry and wanted to go get a hamburger!

Sunday – TODAY! D-DAY (Pick one: Daughter Day, Dump Day, Done Day) Up at 4:30 a.m. to drive the 35 miles to pick Daughter up at JDRC, then another 63 miles to the military school admissions site. It was a bittersweet time for us all. We are so glad she is going because she’s going to have a chance to make a huge positive change in her life. We are also very sad because for the next 4 weeks we will not be able to see her or talk to her on the phone at all. Letters only.

I’m really going to miss our Tuesdays together. Maybe I’ll go see what Oggy’s up to after all. On second thought - NAAAAHHH!

Wishing you Peace, Blessings, and a Miracle Buddy to help you through all your panic attacks.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

NEWS FLASH: Damama T Found AWOL!!

Hi, gang. I just had to jump in here really fast to tell you that I'm going to be AWOL for a while. Maybe two or three days depending on how long it takes me to complete my forced march through military school preparation hell.

No, I'M not going to military school, Daughter is. She goes on Sunday and, in my usual efficient fashion, have just realized that I ONLY HAVE A WEEK TO FINISH GETTING ALL HER STUFF TOGETHER!!!

AND I CAN'T FIND HER TEXAS I.D. CARD. It was in her wallet. The last time she saw her wallet was the day she was arrested back in October. If I can't find her wallet with the I.D., the academy won't accept her! AAACK!


OK. I'm better now. Just needed to yell and scream and run madly around the room flailing my arms and pulling my hair for a minute. Now I'm taking a deep breath and trusting God and all your good wishes and prayers to get me through this.

Love ya. See ya soon.

Friday, January 18, 2008

I'm getting spoiled! My second award.

Dragonstar has given me another award! She thinks my blog's a Treasure! I am so honored... and again embarassed that I've not gotten it posted here before now. It's not that I forgot about it, I just have this mental block about bragging on myself too much, so it sort of got sidelined. But then I realized that that's not any way to honor such kindness as she's shown not once, but twice now! So, I present with great pride and humility my very much loved award:

Thank you again, Dragonstar. I am truly touched. I will let you know to whom I will pass it soon.

Peace and blessings to all the other Treasures who visit here.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Damama's Use It or Loose It Advice on: KIDS, CHORES & CONSEQUENCES

Lucille over at Who's Going to Tell You posted about wanting a garbage man to keep from having to take out the garbage. Again. Mass quantities of it because her Hubby did the smash-and-stack trash handling technique while she was sick with pneumonia. I TOTALLY agree that he should do a better job of helping out - not only while she's sick, but all the time. However, in my humble opinion, her problem is just a symptom of a larger issue that has bugged me for years: Kids, Chores, and Consequences.

As moms, we all to often do things ourselves because it is, well, just simpler. Less hassle. More efficient. We want things done a certain way, and the kids / hubby / a housekeeper / God Himself just couldn't do it as well as we can. Heaven forbid that someone might think that we are not perfect June Cleavers because the pillows on the couch aren't positioned a just so; there are newspapers on the floor by Hubby's chair; the kids beds aren't made; or the kitchen looks even remotely used.

For those who agonize over every speck of dust that drifts through the air in their spotless, pristine abode, life can become unbearable for everyone in the house. Mom is always on edge because NOBODY CLEANS ANYTHING (the way she thinks they should). The kids are miserable because Mom is always nagging. But then, on the other hand, they often ignore the nagging because they know if they hold out long enough, Mom will get fed up and just do it herself. Yes, there may be some meaningless consequence like losing TV or game privileges for a few days, but hey!, eventually she'll quit nagging and just do it herself in the first place because it's easier for her in the long run!

I have a friend who solved the problem by using a thing called natural consequences. She had 3 kids of an age that should be able to handle their share of household responsibilities, so she made up a duty chart. As often happens, trash duty became a major sticking point. So she got creative and instituted a new rule:

On trash day, if the responsible party hadn't emptied trash cans, then everyone else got to put said trash (in a bag, of course) in the shirker's room where it stayed until the shirker could take it out - whether it took until the next trash day or whenever. Catch: Kids were not allowed to leave their rooms to do anything fun, TV, games, sports, shopping.. NOTHING FUN if their rooms weren't clean. They couldn't just pile it on the curb either, because trash pickup only happened on Wednesdays and Saturdays. And they couldn't put it out on the normal holding area if the next trash day would be a sibling's trash duty day because then that sibling would be doing part of their job. So if the timing was wrong, they were stuck with it in their room for at least 2 days.

One of her sons decided to heck with it because, hey, he didn't have anything fun he wanted to do anytime soon. And he figured he could just sit in his room and read. Mom would eventually give in and give up on that stupid duty chart thing. After about a week it smelled so bad that she was tempted to give in, but instead she just put a fan outside his door FACING IN so that the stink kept being blown back inside! Bonus: The fan also discouraged the FLIES from leaving his room. It became a huge standoff situation.

About 3 weeks later, he finally decided to clear out his room. By then, his clothes and bedding all smelled like rotten trash. The only reason the rest of the house didn't smell was because of the fan plus Mom had spent a fortune on air fresheners and sprays, but she said it was worth it when she watched him finally drag the bags to the curb and then have to wash his stuff himself because she refused to enter his room with it smelling like that.

The other two learned a valuable lesson: Mom's not gonna give in so we might as well just do it! It wasn't always easy, but she'd succeeded in making believers out of them and they balked much less. Her kids are now in their early 30s. The two boys make great husbands because they don't think anything at all about just doing whatever needs to be done. It finally just became a habit.

Too often we let our kids get off easily because we don't want them to feel unloved or overpressured. More often it's because it's just easier to get it done and over with ourselves. But if God loves us enough to impose rules, responsibilities, and consequences shouldn't we love our kids enough to do the same?

Peace, Blessings, and Positive Natural Consequences to all.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008


HI!! If you've already seen these awards that I've bestowed on those I feel need a little extra praise and support, please excuse the duplication. I was trying something that failed miserably. It was way more confusing in cyberspace than it was in my obviously minimally functional brainspace.

If you haven't seen them, come on in and browse a while and then please go check out the two blogs listed below.

From now on I'll just post award notices as normal on the day I decide to bestow them. Again - sorry for the confusion.

January 15, 2008
Allison over at A Mom Thing has been courageously standing by H for many months now as he battled leukemia. She has stood strong for her children and her husband, and maintained her sanity partially through getting it all out and onto "paper" in her blog. And she did it with very little support from the blogging community. That, alone, impresses me greatly. If I didn't have a pretty steady stream of people encouraging me, I think I'd have quit after the first month or so. Allison didn't quit, because that's not who she is. When she makes a commitment, she honors it. I'm so glad to have found her blog and honored to have been "there" when her family was reunited upon H's release from the hospi-hotel, as she calls it, on Monday, 1/11. So, Allison, this LOVE IN ACTION award is made especially for you. You are an amazing example to your children and to all who are lucky enough to find your blog.

January 14, 2008


Heather over at Three Boys and Me for overcoming her fear of spiders in order to get the job done! WAY TO GO HEATHER! You are the first to ever receive the No Miss Muffett Award. Why don't you pop on over there now and see why she got this award.

Monday, January 14, 2008


Just thought I'd let you know that the dogs are all safely tucked away in their new homes.

Cindi and Luke went to one family where the MIL is taking Cindi home and plans on spoiling her royally. Cindi will LOVE that! She's gonna get to sleep on the bed and everything! Of course, she's always known she wasn't really a dog and just couldn't understand why us other human types didn't get it! She will get to see Luke often.

Luke will be living with the wife, husband, 3 or 4 kids, a parrot, a ferret, a cockatiel, and a rat-like rodent of some sort - all in the house. Outside they have several other animals including horses, dogs, pigs, chickens and cows (I think. It's a big place and I couldn't tell where their property stopped and the neighbor's started.). He will have room to run and play and lots of loving help doing it.

I didn't get to meet Belle's new family, but this is what Rita told me about them:

Belle is today's miracle answer to a sick little boy's long time prayer. I don't know his real name, but I'm going to call him Will because with everything he's been through, it is only his will to live that's kept him here.

Will is about 7 years old, but he's only the size of a two- to three-year-old. He walks and talks at about that same level, too. He is not expected to live past 10 or 11 years of age. Several years ago the family got the Lassy movie and watched it with Will. He fell in love with collies. One of the longest sentences he says is "MY LASSY!" Any time he sees a collie picture, stuffed toy, figurine, anything, he has to have it. His room is covered with MY LASSYs. His parents could not afford to buy a dog and have it trained to meet Will's needs. When they saw the posting on Freecycle giving one away, they thought that just maybe this might be the answer to their prayers. And so it is.

Belle is a gentle, kind and VERY intelligent animal. When Rita introduced her to Will, she told her that "this baby is now your job." Belle has taken that job very seriously. Will's parents were initially worried that Belle was unhappy because the first day she paced almost nonstop. However, late in the afternoon, Will took Belle for a walk in the back yard UNASSISTED. His mom was astonished. She never thought she'd see him able to walk his own dog. She also was amazed to see Belle obeying Will's commands even though they are spoken in Will-speak and usually only his parents know what he is saying. Belle sits and stays, lays down, and shakes hands on command. She understands Will perfectly and obeys his commands without hesitation.

Friday night Belle slept peacefully on the floor at the foot of Will's bed - between him and the door. When Mom and Dad looked in, Belle immediately came to full alert. She didn't get up, just raised her head and acknowledged their presence, and then went back to sleep guarding her new boy. I'm betting Will had sweet dreams, at last, about his very own MY LASSY.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR PRAYERS. As you can see, they have been answered - and then some.


Friday, January 11, 2008


I was tired. It had been a long week that involved leaving home at 5:00 each morning to drive 65 miles from our rural home to my client’s training facility where I was being paid to shove the all new and all powerful Microsoft Office Suite into the brains of people who didn’t want to learn this particular new thing. The company was migrating from WordPerfect and Lotus. The employees, however, did not understand why it was necessary to fix what wasn’t broke. They knew and were proficient in WP and Lotus, and had no desire to change. This final day of beating my head against the brick walls that doubled as their brains had started off worse than usual.

I mentioned the rural home thing. Well, this rural home had a rural driveway consisting of crushed shale and limestone that shifted under foot. I had ruined so many pairs of high heels trying to get from the car to the house and vise-a-versa that I’d given up and started wearing my fuzzy slippers to and from. This morning I’d gotten a late start and didn’t notice until I saw my reflection in the mirrored entry doors on my client’s building that -- you guessed it – I was still wearing said fuzzy slippers!

I went back to the car and discovered that I’D FORGOTTEN MY SHOES ENTIRELY! Thank God there was a brand new, 24-hour Wal-Mart store about a mile away. I sped over, ran in, grabbed the first pair of cheap black, passably professional shoes I could find and dashed back to the facility just in time to greet the first students at the door. THOSE WERE ABSOLUTELY THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLE SHOES I’VE EVER BEEN FORCED TO WEAR IN MY LIFE! Around 3:00 p.m. I gave up and told the ladies that I really didn’t care if it was unprofessional or not, I was going barefoot. However, I’d waited too long and already had blisters the size of the polar ice caps sprouting all over my feet.

So there I was, in pain literally from top to bottom. Because of having to endure the daily 130 mile round trip drives, plus the stress of pushing and prodding the unyielding masses, plus the facility’s rigid break scheduling rules that prohibited untimely recesses, in addition to the blisters, I was also nursing a mammoth migraine and a Colorado River sized log-jam of constipation. (I know – that’s a visual you could have done without, right!) The only saving grace of the whole week was the eager anticipation of having dinner that night with one of my best friends – none other than my very own wonderful Bug.

He got to Carrabba’s early and had a table waiting. I’d stopped at the drugstore for some stuff, as my granny would have said, to fix all what ailed me, so I was about 20 minutes behind him. He knew something was wrong when he saw me weave toward him and then just sort of slither down into the booth, but I assured him that I’d be fine if I could just get something to drink and down some pain pills to dull the headache. I dug around in the bag and pulled out a box from which I extracted the much needed analgesic. When I glanced up at Bug, he had the strangest look on his face. I didn’t care, though. I was too focused on getting the wrapper off to give a rip what he was thinking at that moment. I just kept wrangling with the blasted thing thinking when did they start putting foil wrappers on Tylenol and why were the capsules so large?? I looked Bug again and could tell he was obviously dying to tell me something, but I had more pressing business at hand, so he’d just have to wait a minute. I finally got one unwrapped and only when I felt the greasy, slick, bullet in my hand did I realize it was a suppository!!! I’d almost downed a cotton pickin’ suppository!!

GOD HELP BUG! I thought he was going to fall off his chair laughing. And apparently I wasn’t the only one who was worried about him falling over, because the ladies at the table next to us were openly gawking at his antics. So he felt the overwhelming need to explain to them why he was laughing so hard. Then I had to worry that THEY were going to fall out of THEIR chairs laughing! Before it was over with they’d told everybody within a 4 table radius plus the waiter who proceeded to have to go tell the manager who knew me because we ate there so often! After regaining his composure, the waiter decided that it’d be a good idea to rush our order a little so I could get home to bed. That, alone, got him a huge tip that night!

I think I remember reading somewhere that is very unhealthy to consume rich, heavy, Italian food without including dessert. (Something about balanced nutrition???) So any time Bug and I go out to dinner we share some sinfully rich and decadent delight to complete our meal. And with the week I’d just had there was NO WAY I was leaving there without my sweet treat. We quickly decided on cheesecake. With both strawberry and chocolate sauce on the side. We’d almost finished the whole thing when Bug sweetly offered me the last bite. I thanked him kindly as I reached my fork over to get it. But I was so tired that I actually missed the food and drew back an empty fork.

Bug looked very concerned and asked, “Mom, are you sure you’ll be OK to drive home?”

“I’m sure,” I lied and motioned to the waiter to come refill my coffee thinking that if I could just get enough caffeine in on top of the Tylenol I’d be quite OK. Then I once again reached for the piece of cheesecake taunting me from the plate – AND MISSED AGAIN! I thought, DANG! Maybe I shouldn’t try to drive that last 30 miles home.

I shook my head to clear my vision, and when I missed a third time I actually picked up the fork and looked at the end of it to make sure that it wasn’t bent or something. I was beginning to feel like I’d stepped into the Twilight Zone! Thank goodness Bug had kept up an endless stream of chatter during the whole ordeal, so I was pretty sure that he had been engrossed enough in conversation that he hadn’t noticed my last two failed attempts.

Being one to never refuse a challenge, I was determined that I was going to have that last blasted bite of cheesecake if it took all night long! As I made the fourth stab at it I caught just the tiniest glimpse of a hand as Bug rotated the plate ever so slightly just before my fork made contact. And even then, it didn’t really register why I couldn’t get that dang cheesecake onto my fork! As I sat there looking puzzled, suddenly he could no longer contain himself and burst out laughing again so that our whole half of the room was craning their necks to see what the ruckus was. Only THEN did it finally dawn on me that he’d gotten me but good.

Now, every time he wants to remind me that he can get me whenever he wants to, he simply acts like he's turning a plate and grins like a cocky billy goat.

And the moral of the story? No matter how cute he is, never ever share your cheesecake with a Bug!!

Peace, Blessings, and un-wrapped analgesics all 'round!

Thursday, January 10, 2008


Hi, everyone. As I sit here writing this my heart is breaking because my friend Rita is having to move into a smaller house with no yard because her current landlord is the south end of a north-bound horse. It's a long story, but because of this move she is going to have to find new homes for her three BEAUTIFUL and WONDERFUL collies.

The two females are show quality, though not show capable because they have been spade. The neutered male is just a big, goofy, loving, kind, funny sweetheart. All three are AKC REGISTERED and great dogs. They are up-to-date on their shots.


If you know of anyone who might want one or all of the dogs, please email me at damama002@yahoo.com. They would have to be willing to allow us to check with their vet and/or provide references so we can be sure they are going to a good home.

Rita is in the Houston, Texas, area but would be willing to travel as far as San Antonio, Austin, Waco, Dallas, or Beaumont to bring the dogs for a visit if someone wants to meet them with the SERIOUS intention of giving them good homes.

Here are their pictures and descriptions. PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN!

Monday, January 7, 2008

My first award!

My sweet friend, Dragonstar, gave me this award back in December, but it took Hunker D's computer savvy to help me figure out how to get it posted here. Duh! Once we figured it out, it's easy! So, here, with pride, is my award
And in keeping with the spirit in which Dragonstar gave it to me, I'm passing it on to two others who never fail to to stand by me:

Margie - My "anonymous" friend who keeps me cracking up with funny emails and wonderful pictures of her A-Dora-ble grandaughter.

Lucille - My separated at birth blogsister.

Love to all. Will put up a real post soon - Bug insists that I tell something goofy on myself since I've told silly on him so much! LOL! Coming soon: Cheesy Cheescake.


Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Life in MIL Land

First I want to thank all of you who have emailed me and left comments regarding: 1. Where the heck I’ve been. And 2. How Bug and Lady N’s visit went.

Where I’ve been: I’ve been lazing around, spending some time with Hubby, doing a little shopping with a friend, and generally just enjoying my clean house and my carefully selected, lovingly placed Christmas decorations. All too soon, I’ll have to take it all down and the house will slowly go back to its normal, lived-in state.

The kids’ visit went well. The biggest problem I had was that I just could NOT stop being Damama. As so many of you can attest to, 30-somethings do not want to be mothered! It’s just so darned hard for me to turn it off! Oh well. One day you will be the 50-something, learning to live in the new and challenging world of mother-in-lawdom. I hope I’m still around reading your blogs so I can whoop and holler and say, “SEE!! Told ya so!!”

It is really weird, this mother-of-the-husband world. Not only do you have to cope with the addition of a permanent other-half to your son, but your relationship with him changes, as well. Neither change is necessarily a bad thing, just a new, weird thing that sometimes leaves you feeling like you’re standing with one foot in quicksand and the other on eggshells.

But then I remember feeling that same way when I became wife-of-the-son. I guess I was so wrapped up in those odd, unbalanced feelings that I never fully appreciated how hard it was for my first husband’s mother. I wonder where she is now. Maybe I should find her and tell her that I now understand. And maybe I’ll finally forgive her for making me eat her fried frogs legs after she’d pointed out that they looked just like baby legs jumping and jerking as they cooked in the pan.

(For those of you who’ve never seen cooked frogs legs, here’s a picture of the finished product.

And if you still don’t believe me, go check out some of the frogs legs cooking stuff on YouTube. Warning: some of them are so gross that I refuse torture you with ‘em here. )

Just suffice it to say that I’ve never again consumed that particular Cajun delicacy, and forgiving her for having seared that image into my young brain is a MAJOR step in my emotional development!

Now the moral to this story: If you are married to the son-of-the-mother, be patient with his mom. Try to get to know her as a woman, not just as his mother. She might just surprise you and be someone you could actually like. And remember that some day...

When I'm an old lady, I'll live with each kid,
And bring so much happiness...just as they did.
I want to pay back all the joy they've provided.
Returning each deed! Oh, they'll be so excited!

(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)
I'll write on the wall with reds, whites and blues,
And I'll bounce on the furniture...wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, how they'll shout!

(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)
When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)

When they cook dinner and call me to eat,
I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat,
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
And when they get angry...I'll run...if I'm able!

(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)
I'll sit close to the TV, through the channels I'll click,
I'll cross both eyes just to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud 'til the end of the day!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids)

And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.
My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan,
"She's so sweet when she's sleeping!"

Thank you, Margie, for sending me this so I could share it here.
Author unknown – if you know, please tell me so I can share that too!


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