Out of the Frying Pan ...

... and into the fire?

Gawd, I hope not ... but once again I'm staying out of it.

Fasten your seatbelts, here we go ...

Got a call from Alien just a bit ago. Didn't blog it at first because I'm trying to figure out exactly what the whole conversation was. She was upset but tried to tell me everything that was happening while barely coming up for a breath!

Loser is out of her life. Yay!! As I'm typing this, he's sitting in the jail just up the street from my house. Nice. He's a neighbor, LOL.

The non-LOL part is that he beat the crap out of my Alien last night.

His best friend was over, now former best friend, as he came to Alien's rescue and defended her, freeing her to call the police.

Loser's a repeat offender, so he'll be there for a while. A month at least. Serves him right.

I'm not sure where this part comes in ... before the fight, if it was the fight, or afterwards sometime, but he claims he's signing off all rights to his son, Butterball. Oh, please, let that be the truth. Let him sign off all rights and any future contact with Alien, Butterball and the little one she's pregnant with.

However, the "into the fire" part ... Alien tells me how wonderful this former best friend of the Loser is, and that he's stepping up to take care of her and the baby (and the one on the way). Both of my sons have met this guy and say he's definitely a step up from the Loser.

I've come to realize that she really is co-dependant ... on about anyone who will allow her to be dependant on them. Sad ... but I can't be worrying about it.

She made her bed, and she has to lay in it now.

It took my mother 78 years to learn to say "I can't solve the worlds problems, nor can I solve yours" and step away. I saw the stress it put her through to worry about things she couldn't control. I sure can't be worrying about things I have no control over. Like an adult Alien.

I just pray this guy really is good for her, and Butterball and my future grandchild.

Funny I should say I can't solve the problems of my kids ... we know what I do for my sons already. Sad that I could have been more of a positive part of Aliens life had she not rebelled and fought everything I tried to do for her ... or what crap Bubba made her believe - that I was mean (read strict) and wouldn't grant her every wish (right, Princess wishes take money - something that even if I had in abundance, I wouldn't grant her - she needs to learn financial responsibility among other responsibilities).

Ah well, that's all water under the bridge.

Hopefully this is one positive baby-step in her life.

Happy Friday

Wow, it's been three whole days since I've blogged. Can you believe it? LOL.

And quiet days they've been! Grandson left for camping yesterday, but spent the night before they left at his Popa and Nani's house. DIL has barely been around since then, thanks to a Nani who really doesn't like being alone when her hubby and Grandson are gone. DIL and Married Son will come home to sleep, so the end of my day isn't exactly quiet. Ah well, at least the days are.

And, get this ... DIL has figured out the whole dish thing. Seems she's realized that doing their dishes (and an occasional dish of mine) immediately after the meal is soooo much easier to keep ahead of then doing them only when they overflow from the dishpan. I know, amazing isn't it? And that she's even done a dish or two of mine without griping about it.

I'm impressed.

I'm still working on my sanctuary. I decided that while I was at it, I'd do some deep cleaning (closet, dresser, bookcase). I got in over my head, but it's been worth it. Then again, it's needed to be done for a while now.

I used to laugh at those people that said they went clothes shopping in their own closets. But know I really understand. My goodness, I found a whole wardrobe that I'd totally forgotten about ... pushed in the back of the closet.

I even found some sweaters from the 80s, no kidding! They no longer fit, plus they're way out of style, so they'll be donated to a vintage clothing store in the next town over.

I got call from Aunt Normal today saying she's dropping the search for her ancestor for the summer. She said it's way too hot to be going all the way to Port Huron to search records. Um, nope ... it's perfect weather. After all, Port Huron is a pretty modern place, they even have indoor plumbing and ee-lec-tricity. Oy ... I mean, this isn't the mid-1800s for pete's sake. And I'd rather do the search now ... being a waterside town it's always ten degrees cooler at least, and with a constant breeze. She said she'd resume in the fall, when it's going to be chilly as hell (okay, only a Michigander would say cold as Hell - and only a Michigander - or Amy - would understand the humor behind that ... hehehehe). As much as I love the colder weather and the City of Port Huron ... I don't look forward to freezing my buns off, and yes, spring, summer, winter or fall, if I'm in Port Huron I stop at my favorite park.

But then, my Mom doesn't want me to do any more of the family search for Aunt Normal. I know, since when do I actually listen to my mom? The deal was to find out about the one ancestor, and I'm sticking to my end of it.

Guess I should go. I just got the new Fall and Winter catalogs for the products I sell in today's mail. Been going over them ... I'm contemplating trying out Facebook Market, maybe even Multiply's market ... see if I can broaden my customer base there.

Tuesday ...

And it's been a pretty quiet day. Then again, the three noise makers have been gone most of the day.

Spent part of the morning on Farmville, working coops that I had to harvest. Grandson wanted to help, but I told him that I didn't think it was fair that he could play my games and not give me a little goodnight kiss (he did that last night). Before I could say anything else, DIL pipes in with "See, I told you Son, you have to be nice if you want to play with Gramma."

I had an errand to run, so that got me out of the house while they were here. Got back to find the house empty, minus Single Son. But we hardly see him anyway, locked up in his room working his one office job.

From her facebook, I see that DIL took Grandson to the park, then to her parents after so she could work.

Well, we have the babysitting issued resolved. She finally figured that one out!

And of course when Married Son and Grandson got home all hell broke loose once again. Barely in the door, he's got his hands all over stuff. I had asked Grandson not to touch something, he did, Son ended up sending him straight to bed. But since it was after 11 PM when they got home, he should have been in bed anyway. Oh wait, bedtimes were MY rule. Seems that they don't have a bedtime for him, that it's after midnight most nights when he goes to bed. I don't envy her the job of trying to get him on a school schedule come the fall. He's gonna be one sleepy kindergartener!

So, it's been quiet again.

Tomorrow Grandson goes camping for four days with his Popa. My only regret is that DIL isn't going. I could use four days of quiet.

I was going to go to Port Huron tomorrow to see if I can find out about this cousin's great- great grandmother. Or was it just one great? I don't remember, lol. Anyway ... I was going to go but between the storms that are forecast for tomorrow and the fact I can't seem to find the registration and proof of insurance for my car ... well, that's tomorrow's priority now. I guess Port Huron will wait until Friday.

And how did I discover the papers are missing on my car? I didn't. Single Son did. And how, pray tell did he discover this? Well... Single Son ... the resident cop, got pulled over by the cops for speeding today!! Yes, even cops break traffic laws. He couldn't find the paperwork, but since he was pulled over by a county deputy with an obvious sense of humor he was let off without a ticket (lucky him). However, he had to tell the deputy who owned the car. He went through about four names before he got it right (he didn't know my dad owns it, lol). And having the deputy check through the police computer system that he is actually a cop didn't hurt either.

I don't have the luxury of being in a cop computer system as a fellow officer, and they don't keep records on cop moms, so I need to find those papers.

Odd thing is ... they were in the car last I saw them. I know, you're not supposed to keep them in your car, but in your wallet ... but it's easier than passing them to Single Son every time he borrows my car. Technically we're sharing my car now, so it got to be a huge pain in the behind ... so, in the car they went.

And I get to be the one to look for them. Because he can't seem to find anything ... For someone who can be at a crime-scene and not miss a detail, at home he notices nothing. Why is that?

Word for the week ... CONSISTENT

One thing I'm noticing more and more as the days go by, there is absolutely no consistency in the way she handles Grandson. Married Son is much more consistent, but he let's her over-ride him. Maybe not let's, more like tolerates. Or hasn't the balls to speak up.

A good case in point is the way this child eats. All he wants is cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. An occasional curly fry from her work, but that's about it. When she does get him to eat something different, he takes a few bites, saying he loves it, then a few more bites and decides he hates something. Then the battle begins. Only ... she gives in after a few minutes, lets him get up from the table, the cats get the scraps, and the kid is off doing what he wants. Short time later he comes back saying he's hungry and wants a bowl of cereal. And of course she gives in.

And I see it with everything else he wants too. He puts up a fight for something (toy, pop tarts or sugary snack, other junk), she gives in and gets it for him, and it's never again touched.

She was at work today, so I thought I'd talk to Married Son about it. Now ... this will need a little set-up ... he worked today, too. When he came home he had Grandson with him, and a bag from Arby's (they stopped where DIL works). She gave Grandson a thingie of seasoned curly fries, and put a sandwich in a bag that she wanted me to try (I seem to be the "new sandwich guinea pig", and I love it) ... soooooo ... they get home, put the bag on the table. Grandson grabs the bag, Married Son says "Son, that sandwich is Grandma's, give it to her." "No, I want it." "You can't have it, it's for Grandma". He tightens his grip on it, practically smashing the sandwich. I offer to share it with him, grab the bag, cut the sandwich so he gets about an inch of the six inch hoagie bunned sandwich. Put it on a child's plate (one used by my kids when they were little) and hand it to him. I tell him the story behind the plate, he says his mom gave it to him (standard operating procedure for him, he claims everything is his), takes a few bites of the sandwich. Doing good!! No fight, no whining he doesn't like it. We're doing good. Then ...

DIL walks in from work. And all hell breaks loose. "I don't want this, I don't like it", pushing the plate so hard as to almost knock it off the table. "Eat it" she about screams at him (or is it just her normal high volume yell, I can never tell). Then next fifteen minutes is spent yelling, crying, and otherwise just not touching the food. "Eat it, or you're not going camping with Popa next weekend" ... oh DO NOT threaten that on him, it's a worse punishment than the "crime" calls for ... I would have made him sit there until it was gone ... OR ... just sent him to bed without any more food, and MADE him stay there. But no ...

She coaxes him by taking away the bread, "eat the meat, son" then dividing it on his plate into four fork-sized piles. More fights. More tears. "Stand in the corner if you aren't going to eat." Of course, he fights her on that, too.

In the end, she let him up after only one fork-full. The cats got the rest of the dinner. Hours later he got a bowl of cereal, and a glass of chocolate milk.

And because he's not my kid, I pretty much stay out of it.

I do talk to Married Son about it, and I do discipline him when he's breaking the house rules, but for this I need to shut up.

You can bet no matter how much he begs, whines and cries in the future, Gramma L will not be sharing so much as a crumb with him. Teach him that he won't be the one calling the shots around here. In fact, later he came downstairs (they were up watching movies), saw I was eating a bowl of cherries and of course wanted some. "No way. You aren't getting anything from me anymore. You waste food." He went crying up to his parents. Oh well!

Had he been my child, he'd have been told "you do not leave the table until you eat what's on your plate." And grabbed a book to read while he sat there and ate it all.

Been there, done that. My parents said the same to me, and stuck around to make sure we didn't sneak food to the dog ... I did it when my kids tried the same. I wasn't born yesterday ... I still remember what goes through the mind of a five year old. I'm not that old!

All over a piece of a roast beef sandwich that wasn't an inch long! One I'm sure he would have finished had DIL not come home when she did.

He's still so mad at me for being a mean grandma that he won't kiss me good night. Ah well, I won't lose sleep over being strict and having a kid mad at me.

Aww shit, and now I'm hearing the one year old nephew is going to be here tomorrow because DIL's babysitting. And there's NO where really for a one year old to play around here. And I'm not babyproofing MY house because this will not become a normal occurance. She better be taking them to the park for the entire day, is all I'm gonna say on that.

Today's Lesson ... R E S P E C T

Respect ...

... of one's property, ones possessions, ones rules.

And boy, what a long morning it was!! Started with Grandson about bouncing off the walls (literally). I was in the shower and could hear the noise. Having to get out of the shower, since the two parental units seemed oblivious to the crashing and banging, I put a quick stop to it.

"This is Gramma's house, Grandson. You can't do that here. When your parents find a house just for you guys THEN and only then can you do it. But not here". He tries to tell me that his Nani lets him. Hmmmm, then go to Nani's house and trash her walls!

And yes, I said it loud enough for the parents to hear ... hell, I'm sure the neighbors heard me!

I get back into the shower. At this point it's not to wash up, it's to relax my now tense muscles with hot water.

Coming out of the bathroom, I discover as I'm closing the bathroom door behind me that someone has put three shirt stickers (you know, fairly narrow but real long) on the door knob, totally covering it. "Who did this" was all I had to say. "I did, Gramma". "Clean it up". He comes down the stairs a few minutes later. Asking where he put the sticker (I know better than to not follow up with a pre-schooler) I get "I put it on Mommy's door". "THROW IT AWAY, and clean up these toys while you're at it".

I won't get into the pop-tart crumbs all over the table, floor and chair. However, I did hand a certain grandson the broom and told him to not hit anything as he was sweeping up. Or the little boy who refuses to lift the toilet seat no matter how many reminders he gets from Gramma (Popa doesn't make me lift the seat, Gramma).

Now I'm a mean grandmother. Add that to my recent title of psycho MIL from Hell, and I'm happy!

Success!!

I mean ... I do believe things may finally be sinking in!! Well, maybe sinking in. Hopefully sinking in. I can dream, can't I?

All I ask is that you respect the rules of the house ... my possessions ... and my property.

Is that asking too much?

DIL asked why I was so grumpy. I told her. "You move in thinking that the rules have been changed. They haven't. We had problems last time because you didn't respect the rules. Rules that are very different than your parents rules. Unlike your mother, I won't be your housekeeper, babysitter, gopher or peon. You're to be an active member of this family, even if it means you have do clean up someone else's messes, mostly your husband and son's messes or ... god forbid, do something that you may feel is not your job. And do so without recognition or bitching about it. Grow up ... you are a wife, mother, daughter and daughter in law. You need to start thinking about others."

It's nice to finally be able to speak my mind!! Not an easy thing to learn, but it sure beats being walked all over and sitting quietly as I stress.

Needless to say she left the house for a while. Said she was dropping Grandson off at her mother's so she could come back and get ready for work tonight.

Victory. I'm not even asked anymore if I can watch him for an hour or so.

After about an hour's absence, she's been back here about ten minutes. Slamming of a cupboard door aside (which I hate), she's been rather pleasant. I'm pretty sure she bitched about me to her folks. Her dad's not too bad when it comes to "deal with it, 'cause you ain't moving back here'. Gotta love someone that tells her to "deal with it" since she's stuck with it!

Now if she'd only respect me HALF as much as she seems to respect her folks. When they lived there, she had a list of chores she had to do, regardless of whether she personally created a mess/chore/whatever. DILs Dad wouldn't take "it's not my mess" for an answer. Maybe that's what I need to do? Revive the ol' chore chart - the ones my kids grew up with. Treat her like a kid until she learns to grow up ... show some respect ... and stop the "not me, not my" crap.

Ah, there's an idea!! I took parenting classes during my first divorce (mandated by the county courts). Chore charts, discipline, reward systems, rules ... it was all covered. Great ideas ... and best yet ... they WORKED!

Funny thing is, Married Son, DIL and I were talking just the other night about how strict I was with my kids. Eight o'clock bedtimes (nine o'clock in the summer), meals at set times, chores done after breakfast (on Saturdays or daily in the summer) or they couldn't go play with their little friends, the time-out stair ... oh how I loved that time out system! I only spanked a kid once, and that was out of sheer fear because he'd run into traffic!! But, then again ... I didn't need to spank my kids ... they knew that NO meant NO (and to not ask again), they knew the rules ... they respected the rules and more importantly they respected me! Well, the boys did anyway. Alien was a different story altogether (funny how sperm donors can undermine the mother's authority and screw up all that discipline I tried to instill in her - but that's another blog entirely).

Which I think is what this whole thing boils down to, the lack of respect. Do what you want, when you want ... damn anything that gets in the way (including one mother in law).

Friday Storms

It's eighty-eight degrees outside, humid as all get-out, and the radio keeps beeping with storm watches and warnings ... tornado warnings south of here. It's dark, like it's dusk - but that's still two hours away.

I'm just waiting for the storms!! Yay!! I love a good storm. And no one here to shatter the quiet.

I'm expecting that to change in a bit, but for now I'm so enjoying it. Although, with this storm coming, and DIL absolutely hates driving in the rain so I'm hoping she sits it out at her parents house where she's babysitting her one year old nephew.

Other than that, it's been very quiet around here. Blissfully quiet.

Oooh ... here's the thunder! Yay ... double yay for having a laptop that I can unplug and not have to worry about powering off because of the lightening. However, now the fun begins with Spot. He's a true scaredy cat when it comes to thunder!

I had a laugh this morning. My cousin, Normal's wife called about 9 am this morning. She was polite but tried to tell me they'll be doing their own research from now on. She made it sound like Normal wanted to have some of the "adventure" himself. They'll be going to Port Huron to find what they can. She also told me, finally, just why, at the age of 88 she wants to know about her great grandmother's mother. Hmmmmm ... seems Normal's DIL gave them a family tree (suitable for framing according to my stuffy elderly cousin). There's ONE blank on it, the great grandmother's mother, that she wants filled before she invests in a frame. This is the only reason she even cares? Oy!!

Mom called shortly after I got of the phone with "Aunt Normal" (we call them aunt and uncle because of the age difference - respect sort of thing, you know) ... I barely get "hi Mom" out of my mouth and she's asking me if Aunt Normal has called me yet. Um, yeah, she sure did. Mom then proceeds to blast Aunt Normal and the whole Normal's family tree thing ... great, what a way to start my day. "You know, they don't want you working on it because she thinks you're going to expect another check from her. She's cheap, I tell you ... C H E E P." No, Mom's not the best speller around. Really! Mom asks me to back off. If Aunt Normal is that cheap, she doesn't deserve to know jackshit (and that's Mom's term!). I told Mom I was really intrigued with the whole nautical thing, and three shipwrecks ending in the deaths of three of her ancestors. Mom told me to continue if I'm interested, but to NOT share it with Aunt Normal.

So ... the research will continue, but for my curiosity only. I'll honor Mom's wishes by not sharing diddly with anyone but Mom.

I just think it's hysterical that two octo-generians are acting like kids.

Speaking of kids ... darnit. Guess who just showed up? And with a one year old, too. Grrrrrrr.

This isn't romper room. 

You'd think there's a dozen rug-rats here with the noise level. One adult who has NO volume control is adding to it, too. And she's NOT watching them too closely. I just had to use an empty bookcase as a make-shift baby barrier to keep the one year old and his juicebox away from my carpet.

LOL, I'm turning into a Grumpy Old Woman. Funny, I hear things come out of my mouth that my Dad used to say when my boys were younger ... he was about the same age then as I am now. Oh Lordy, heaven help me. I've turned into my dad!

Now all I need to do is take up beer drinking.

Deep breathe ...

I wonder what I'd without blogging? Would I lose it completely? Or ... find places to bury the bodies?

Probably the latter.

From the time she got up this morning it's been LOUD and she's been lazy.

Married Son wanted a meal while he searched the internet for salvage jobs to do today. After a fight she finally prepares lunch. He finishes ... soaks his dish in the sink. I comment that as long as he's standing there he can take two minutes to wash the freaking things.

Nope. Won't do.

DIL had vanished into their room while he ate. She comes back down the stairs saying she's bored. Married Son said "well, do our dishes then". "You used them, you wash your own freaking dishes. It's not my job. Or I'll drain them and put them on your half of the bed".

Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

She asks for the dvd player to go back in their bedroom after last night's test drive of the huge screen tv. Says she's bored, there's nothing to do. His response? "I'll put the dvd back after the dishes are done".

An hour has passed and she sits at the table, whining like a baby ... he sits at his computer, ignoring her requests. The dishes are you-know-where.

And I contemplate where I could hide the body.

After I wash the freaking dishes, that is.