You My Fave-it!

Having fake grandkids around really, really does my heart good.  Oh, they are normal little girls who can be really really bad sometimes, but it sure brings a smile to my face when they come running towards my truck, huge grins on their faces, arms extended, and both of them yelling, "GRAMMA CINNY!!  GRAMMA CINNY!!!"  as I park in their driveway.

I'd bought Jethro a little gift at the Dollar Tree Store, where we'd picked up the gifts for Britney, so I was taking it to his house to give to him.  I also have a package of Pull-Ups here that I found on the huge discount/everything is on sale table at Kroger and picked up for Justice.  Of course, I forget those every time I see Jethro or Macrame.  But I took him his present, got my hugs from the girls, listened to their chattered and admired their new squid hats, and then Justice, the cuddle bug, said, "Pit me up!" and she held her hands to me.

I picked her up, and she curled her arms and legs around me, and put her head on my shoulder, saying, "You my fave-it!" to me.

How can any heart stand up to something like that??  Everything just melts when you hear a little one say, "You are my favorite."  Awwww!!!

I always say things to the girls like, "You are my very favorite Hope in the whole wide world!"  Or, "You are my favorite 2 year old!"  I let them both know that I love them equally, and they are both my favorites.

I also love it love it LOVE IT when I get a letter from my very favorite, Anna.  I don't get to see her nearly enough, but she sends us pictures and letters, and sometimes we get a phone call from her. I miss this kid like crazy, people.  I see the pictures her mom sends or posts with Anna playing soccer, and I can remember her learning how to run, and the funny way she moved her arms as she chugged along.  I see her writing, and remember her "painting" the porch with water and a paintbrush.  When she lost her first tooth, I remember when she was a toothless little squishy baby, and how cute she looked with her teeth as they came in.

One tough little soccer goalie!

Anna is the one in green with gray sweats, closest to the ball.

The older, crazy acting, weird woman who was stalking Dr. Lampshade until she realized he was bad news, called Saige's phone late last night.  Apparently she found a lot of Wii games were missing, as well as some other items.  She knew Lamp stole them, because someone had told her that Lamp stole her stuff, but she hadn't noticed these games and items were gone.  I don't know what she's going to do.

He got my phone number, and yesterday he called me to remind me it was Brit's birthday.  I told him that we'd seen her and taken her some gifts, and that yes, we had to go through all the security to get to her.   He thought it was bogus that we could see her, and he, as her husband, could not, and I just agreed with him.  I was thinking, though, that if he'd behaved while he'd been there while she was in the SICU, and he'd actually been a husband instead of a little boy, he probably could go visit her.

But he burned those bridges that he needed to cross, and now, too bad, so sad.

He's going to end up in prison, the way he's going.  I think he needs hardcore rehab, not prison, but what he's doing to get drugs is illegal and punishable by prison time, or jail time.

It is so hard to love a son so much that you would do almost anything for him, and realize that what you are doing to try to help is simply wrong for this kid of yours.  It is enabling him to continue in what he's doing, and it's hurting, not helping.  That is hard, hard, to understand and come to terms with.  It's hard seeing the boy that was underneath the man he's become, and realizing that I am not the one to get that boy back.  I can't do it.  He needs real help, not just a sandwich and a glass of water from Mommy.

It hurts.

So having a little one grab me in a big bear hug and say softly, "You my fave-it," is something that helps my heart heal.

Yesterday Saige and I didn't go to any fireworks show.  Jethro had picked up a lot of firecrackers and smoky things and exploding things when he was in Missouri, and so he handed Saige a few items to mess with at our house.  Nothing big or illegal, just some popping and smoking type fireworks, and a few sparklers.

When I was about 6 years old, our neighbors had some sparklers, and they asked my mom if I could play with one.  Mom said that I could, and I was thrilled to hold this sparkling piece of metal.  I remember they told me to whirl it around, and I obeyed, watching the beautiful sparks against the dark sky.  It felt, and looked, magical.  I didn't realize that I was holding something that burned at over 2,000 degrees, and I'm sure mom didn't either, or I would never have had that moment of fun.  Mom was very safety conscious with us, and we couldn't eat things like hard candy in the car, we wore seat belts and special kid seat belts even when it wasn't a law.  "Cross arms!" she'd say, as she closed the car doors, and we'd cross our arms over our chest so we wouldn't get our fingers slammed in the door.  She didn't coddle us, though, and she did let us run and play in mud and creeks and in the woods, but in the car, especially, she wanted us as safe as possible.

She'd lost her favorite cousin, Gary, who'd been like a brother to her, when his car was demolished by a drunk driver.  The drunk man in the other car got off without so much as a cut, but Gary was killed.

I'm sure that's why she felt as she did, and why she wanted us to stay safe.

She was extremely anti-alcohol, which, I'm sad to say, made some of us desperately want to try it.

Wow, I went way off topic here.  What the heck??  Who is supposed to be keeping an eye on me and stopping me from doing this, hmm?  You're not doing a good job, let me tell you.  

Where was I?

Oh, the fourth of July.

I think Saige and I had fun, even if we didn't go to a fireworks show.  She is terrified of those party popper things, which makes me laugh. You know, those plastic bottles that have a string you pull at one end, and there's a little bang as strings and confetti come out the bottle top.  Saige does NOT like those.  I was nice and didn't point mine at her.

She put those party streamers and some toilet paper up in the tree.  We lit some of those silly black snakes.  When the black pellet started to expand into the "snake", Saige said, "Are they supposed to look like poop?"  Well, uh, yes.  But they didn't  sell well advertised as, "Poop Pellets."

The kids have always loved those snappers.  Unfortunately, our dogs and the cats hate those snappers.  They aren't very loud at all, but that snapping pop scares the pets, poor things.

But sparklers are pretty cool.. er.. hot

I remember one fourth of July where I showed up at my best friend's apartment.  My boyfriend had decided not to pick me up, or call, or anything, so I went to her place.  My brothers and their friends had made up this rather silly, slightly foul song, and I was singing it to her, while we drank some beer and shot off bottle rockets.  I never laughed so hard as I did when my friend suddenly spouted off a verse of her own to the song, and it was hysterical.  Let me tell you, the words she came up with were hysterical even without beer. Or bottle rockets.  She definitely cheered me up, and I said a wonderful, sparkly goodbye as the bottle rocket I had shot straight into a tree instead of going into the air like it was supposed to.  

Maybe you had to be there.

But it was funny.

I just found this friend again through the wonder that is Facebook.  I wonder if she remembers that day the way I do.

Saige and I had a silly string war, too.  You can't tell by the photo, but I won that war, fair and square, only I cheated.  Hee hee!  While she was out merrily tossing toilet paper into the tree, I was lying in wait for her, my silly string can in hand, ready to spray.  

She shrieked like a little girl when that first blast of cold yicky smelling string hit her in the head.

I actually draped myself in the silly string for the benefit of this photo.  

Honest.

Ask Saige.

I won.

We both busted up laughing, though, as we sprayed that nasty stuff at each other.  I even wished we had more!

You can run

But you can't hide

I hope Jethro and his family had a nice time lighting off all the fireworks he had.  The girls were so excited when I got there, and then Jethro was so excited to show me everything he had.

I took Lamp to his appointment with the psychiatrist, who wanted to see me.  I made the mistake, apparently it was a mistake, anyway, of telling the doc that Lamp stole my Zune.  I told Lampshade he was very lucky I even took him to the appointment, and that I hadn't wanted to go in to see the doc in the first place.  He's lucky I didn't say more!  

And get this...

I took Lamp to the place he's staying.

It's a nice apartment complex.  He plays basketball, has central air, video games, a washer and dryer, and no rent to pay, plus plenty of food. Yeah, I think my kicking him out to have him hit rock bottom has really worked well, don't you?   Hopefully, his friends will start to tire of having him around, and some time soon, he'll find himself without a friendly couch to sleep on.

That might sound hateful of me, but it's the only way, I truly believe, that an addict can start to heal.  Hit rock bottom, with no support so he or she can use, and then go on to rehab and learn to live without drugs.

Watch Intervention if you don't believe me.

I told the psychiatrist that Lamp was headed for prison if he weren't careful.  Lamp thinks he can get out of it.  I'm not sure how, exactly, but he was turning over different scenarios in his mind and talking aloud as he worked through them.  Mostly I was ignoring him.  

Anyway, that is it for now.  Go in peace, be warmed and filled, stay out of the heat, and stay out of jail!