Day 365 ~ In the Wake of…

December 31, 2014

My Instead: My girlfriend and I hosted a New Year's Eve Party.

New Year’s Eve always seems to sneak up on me in the wake of Christmas preparations and parties. I rarely have any plans in advance for this annual event – this year was no exception. My girlfriend Annette and I knew we could enjoy an evening at home if nothing showed up on our social horizon, so plans outside of “us” were not that important..

We found out that we had a few friends like us, staring at a naked square on their calendar on the 31^st. We tossed around variations of how and where we could all get together to cap off 2014 and ring in 2015. I hadn't yet hosted a party in my year of “insteads” which was something that I had wanted to do but ran out of time. Then I realized that this could be it. What a way to end this amazing year…celebrating with friends in the comfort (and safety) of my beautiful home! A couple of texts and phone calls later and we were having a party!

There were only seven of us, but I liked the idea of an intimate gathering and the dynamics that ensued. Annette and I had prepared enough finger food to feed about twenty lumberjacks – better to have too much than run out, especially when you’re the hosts. After some consumption and conversation, it was time to play my favorite game “Catch Phrase”. We played just enough rounds to mix the teams so there would be a “newly-formed” team each game. The competition was “brutal”, outperformed only by the laughter.

And then it was time to watch the ball drop in New York’s Time Square. We were lined up in my living room glued to my TV. Then we realized that they were NOT going to replay it from its 12:00 Eastern Time debut. Darn. Our friend Annie had her phone out and I saw 12:00 on her screen. We all cried out Happy New Year, toasted, and embraced.  

Then I sipped my champagne…a stranger to my lips for the past year.

Thank you, 2014, for your many lessons, revelations, and inspirations – and, of course, the joy of expressing it all.

And now on to 2015 and to the rest of my life.  Hmmm…

Magnificent Seven

Waiting for the ball to drop...

Cheers!

Stranger Sip

Day 364 ~ Metamorphic Makeover

December 30, 2014

My Instead: I did a makeover on my granddaughter Abbey.

After yesterday’s horrendous happenings involving a runaway grandson, my grandparenting pool was drained. But it was Tuesday, as well as, my turn to watch my grandkids Abbey and Andy while their mom went to work. Fortunately, I had some time to regroup because my daughter-in-law Shaundra first dropped the kids off at 11 o’clock. By that time, I was ready for the next round!

The odds were a little more even today since there were only two – unlike four of them the night before. I planned for it to be a “stay at home” kind of day. They are at the ages that they are happy just doing different things with Grandma around the house. We went downstairs and played merry-go-round with my office chair and tossed a few bean bags around. Upstairs, we played some music on the keyboard and “flew” on the bottom of Grandma’s feet. Then I suggested to Abbey that we do a makeover on her. I explained to her what that meant and she was curious enough to agree with another one of her grandma’s insteads.

I gathered my supplies and sat Abbey up on my bathroom counter. I applied a small amount of black eyeliner to her eyelids. As I put some liner underneath her eyes, she turned around and looked in the mirror. She said vehemently, “Grandma, you’re making me look like a zombie!” I think she was starting to have her doubts about this whole process. When I was done with the eyeliner, I took a Q-tip and wiped some of the excess off.which made Abbey feel a little less scary.

As I continued with the metamorphic process, Abbey slowly acquiesced to it all. She kept sneaking peeks in the mirror like one would waiting for that pot to boil. When I finally finished with her face, it was time to tackle the hair. I dampened it to get rid of her “bed head” and because her hair was baby fine, I was able to quickly blow it dry. A can of hair spray was my next weapon. I asked Abbey to bend over as I generously sprayed her golden strands. As she lifted her head and saw her hair was four times its normal size, we both started laughing until our sides ached. Then deciding that this new hairdo did not fit her face, she immediately smoothed it back down with her hands. I tried to change her mind and encourage her let it be, but the old Abbey wanted out. Oh, well.

Later, when Abbey, Andy and I were munching on some veggies and dip, my mind lingered on getting that “after” photograph of Abbey with the full coiffure. I hinted to her that I still wanted a picture of her with the hair and she ranted a firm “no”. This called for some bribery…five buck ought to do it!  And it did! Abbey relented and endured the dreaded hairspray again. I sprayed, picked and pouffed. By the time I was done with her, I had a very young Carol Channing standing before me. We went back into the kitchen where the lighting was optimum. There is where I transformed from makeover artist to photographer to take some pictures. Abbey, however, somehow remained my sweet little granddaughter.

Before 

During

After

Day 363 ~ Runaway Return

December 29, 2014

My Instead: After agreeing to watch four kids and then dealing with an unfortunate accident, I had to search for my pseudo grandson because he ran away.

Who does this? I did…I babysat my grandkids so my kids could take their stepmother Phyllis out for her birthday. I even watched Phyllis’ granddaughter so her daughter could be there too. It’s okay. I enjoy my time with the kids and hoped for another fun evening with all of them.  

My son and daughter-in-law dropped off my grandkids, Abbey and Andy, along with Jalee, my ex-husband’s wife’s granddaughter. Stay with me now. Then my daughter dropped off my pseudo grandson Danny, whom she got guardianship of back in September. My actual grandson Tyler was with his other grandma. The final tally was four kids from 2 to 12 versus only one of me. I can handle this. Or can I?

I asked the kids if they wanted some warm chocolate chip cookies and, of course, they gave a resounding “yes”. After doling out some raw cookie dough to each of them, I got those “homemade” cookies in the oven. Then we all went to the basement to set up the bean bag game. We played around a while until I remembered I had cookies in the oven. I went up to tend to them when Abbey came up yelling that Andy had fallen down the stairs. I ran to the top of steps and found Andy, huddled up at the bottom, crying a scared cry, not so much an injured one. He seemed to be okay to me, as far as a serious injury goes. I comforted him while I asked the three “witnesses” what had happened. Accusations and rebuttals filled the sound waves until I finally said “Abbey, you stay in this room; Jalee, you go in that room; and Danny, you go upstairs to the toy room.” I sat with Andy a while longer and then went up to the kitchen to mind the cookies and further console him. When he had settled down, I went to the toy room and found NO Danny. WTF! I yelled down to Abbey and Jalee to come up. They were fine and realized that I was freaking out that Danny was nowhere to be found. We searched the whole house, I yelled outside for him, and then we searched the house some more.

I could NOT believe he would run away from something like this! The girls had no problem with the “time out” that I had invoked to separate the three of them and defuse the situation. Danny, on the other hand, was somehow traumatized and ESCAPED. Escape what? The wrath of Grandma Mary!?

The rest of our “fun” evening was spent searching for Danny, driving in all directions and returning home every so often to check on his hopeful return. I ranted continually, disbelieving that this was really happening. I felt confident that I had handled the “crisis” the best way any parenting manual would have advised. Then the horror would resurface as I wondered where Danny was and what he was experiencing. It was a not-so-holy terror. I constantly preached to the girls two things: Never goof off on stairs (anyone at any age can fall down them) and NEVER, NEVER run away.

When we returned to my house for the THIRD TIME to see if Danny had come back, we found him in my living room, wearing his weathered-rosy checks, watching TV. He and I took a trip down the hall to my bedroom to talk. I heard myself sounding like a broken record: Never goof off on stairs (anyone at any age can fall down them) and NEVER, NEVER run away. I reminded Danny that my concern at the time was Andy…it was not to point fingers. I could tell that he was not in the place to hear the sense that I was making. He’s 12. But I still continued with my tirade and my eventual lull, hoping perhaps some of it would saturate.  

The evening did not go as I had originally imagined. That one little circumstance changed its course. And the ripple will continue whether or not we see it on the surface. How deep it lies and how effectual it is…well, TBD.

Day 362 ~ Pool Hall Parenting

December 28, 2014

My Instead: I played pool with my girlfriend and then joined in with another couple.

I was spending half the weekend in Farmington, Missouri with my girlfriend Annette. Since she had spent so much time in “my neck of the woods” during the holidays and because she had to work on Saturday, the least I could do was come her way and spend a Sunday with her.

We spent a typical Sunday morning talking, enjoying breakfast, blogging, and cleaning up the kitchen. Annette had mentioned the night before that she had to go into work the next day to do a treatment on one of her patients - she is a physical therapist assistant. After my brief feigned tantrum, I “settled down” and agreed to go into town with her the next day while she tended to her patient.

We arrived at her facility around 4:30 for Annette to treat her patient and do last-minute tweaks to her schedule - she is also the program director. When she went to find her patient to be treated, she discovered that the woman had been sent back to the hospital due to some liver complication. No treatment today! Annette completed and printed out her schedule, then we were off to the bowling alley…my “instead” for the day. When we got there, it was closed. Seriously? Now what? She knew of a pool hall called “Stix and Steins” for us to check out and perhaps play our first game of pool together. When we got to the parking lot, we saw two hunter-type men enter the building. Annette did NOT want to go inside to be with a bunch of tough guys. I insisted that it would be okay and pleaded to just do it. As we entered, we both realized it would be okay. There were plenty of open pool tables and there were other women there, as well. It was not the “Deliverance” scenario that we both envisioned it to be.

After we talked to our friend Jan on the phone about our plans for New Year’s Eve, we found a table, got some quarters, racked up the balls, and began shooting. Neither one of us is a wiz at this bar game – when you think about it, I guess that’s a good thing. Right? We were finishing up our second game when a young man playing nearby asked us to join him and his girlfriend in a game of 8-ball. Of course, we took him up on his offer. We found out that his girlfriend, who is 26, was 5 ½ months pregnant. He had just turned 21 a few months earlier and was drinking his share to mark the occasion. He was also smoking like a pile of wet leaves and boasting that he goes to the pool hall every other night to sharpen his skills at billiards. Ugh. He was nice enough, but I was very bothered with what I saw as a dismal future for this young couple.

We played 5 games that ended with Annette and me reigning as champions. Honestly, they kind of helped us out by scratching on the 8-ball shot twice. Oh, well. During the game and with his every trip to the bar to get another 24 oz. draft beer, I was setting up my soapbox and preparing my speech.

When we announced that we were heading out, I asked the young “father” to come over to talk to me a minute. I prefaced my speech saying that I was 62-years-old and I’ve seen some stuff. Then I told him (in my opinion) this: “The most underrated thing in this world is the importance of the role of the father.” I believe this with all my heart.  Did he get it? No. He talked like he got it, but there is no way. He was more concerned about NO ONE ever taking his kid away from him than he was about TAKING CARE of the baby. He had big plans about getting a new job paying 16 bucks an hour with full benefits and a motorcycle to save on gas. He has some buddies that don’t see their kids and he was NOT going to be like them. Good in theory, but, again, he’s 21. His son is here NOW and he is “hanging” like the 21-year-old that he is. Will this change after his son is born? Not likely. I feel that his girlfriend will step up to the challenges of parenthood. As far as “Daddy” goes, the chances of that are slim to none. But I will pray for him to grow up a lot sooner than he should have had to. He is a dad, after all. 

As for me, once a parent, always a parent. But you have to START somewhere. I just hope this guy doesn't decide to start at the finish line. 

Pool hall

Annette lining up her shot

Lining up my shot