Just catching up

It’s been a while since I’ve posted.  It’s not that I’ve had nothing to say; but I’ve had so much to say it’s difficult to get it down in between everything else.  And frankly, some of it just shouldn’t be put out in the blogosphere for anyone to read.

I had to make my blog a bit more restricted as I kept getting spam from “anonymous” about medications and lots of other junk.  So if you’re one of my readers who wants to comment and previously commented as “anonymous”, please use your real information or set up a Gmail account so you can comment on the blog. 

I’m amazed constantly at the ‘traffic’ the blog gets.  I’m sure it’s people like me who troll sites looking for someone with something important to say; so I hope you find what you’re looking for.  If not, and you’re a regular reader, I appreciate that you stop by and hope you stay.

Grandchild #3 has a peanut allergy, so that means we’re going to have to watch our peanut butter intake here in the house while he’s here.  Yes, we have an epi-pen; yes, I know how to use it.  Grandchild #2 is doing well after his feeding tube surgery (“G-tube”).  He’s funny and active and pretty much a boy all the way through.  Grandchild #1 – and my only grand-daughter so far – has been warned that this last birthday where she turned 9 years old, would be her last.  I can’t have her growing up on me now, can I?

I participated in my first 5K on Memorial Day Monday.  I only ran a small bit – due to the last of a head cold – but I finished just over 46 minutes and 206^th out of 260 participants.  Not bad for my first 5K and almost 50 years old.  I’ve signed up for another one in August and I hope to run more this time. 

Therapy is interesting; I’ve had it before and although I like talking to someone with an objective opinion, it’s also a bit strange because I can’t change anyone else; I’ve got to change how I deal with the situation.  And, even though I have a script – what I’m supposed to say or do – the other people DON’T have that script.  Since I can’t drag my therapist around with me all the time (that would be expensive and she’d probably need therapy); I have to punt.  And that never goes well.

One of the things I’ve discussed with my therapist is that my mother was never interested much in her grandchildren.  It’s always bothered me, but I try not to let it be a big deal.  Know what we figured out?  My mother – who was jealous of my husband and would have been jealous of any man I married – was JEALOUS of my kids.  JEALOUS of children!  Because they meant I no longer belonged solely to her.  Go figure.

I really, truly, honestly do not get Downton Abbey and the fandom thing.  Sorry, I’ve watched most of season three (because it just had to get better, right?) and I’m just not into it.  And, I’ve never watched Game of Thrones, Walking Dead or Arrested Development. 

I’ve started lots of posts but haven’t finished them.  Maybe I’ll post them and maybe I won’t.  Some of them just aren’t worth a read, but I had to get them out of my head.

It’s Day Camp season and I’m the registrar for our district.  I’m amazed how many people don’t complete health forms or complete them incorrectly.  I wonder if they are as careless in completing job applications or paperwork for school, or if they just really don’t realize how impossible it is to read their handwriting.  I could go on and on about incomplete forms, messy handwriting and what people name their children, but we’ll just leave that to your imagination.

I was at the grocery store the other day to pick up two items I forgot for dinner (potatoes and bread).  The total came to $6.68; I handed the cashier $7.00 (a 5-dollar bill and two 1’s).  She incorrectly entered in that I’d paid $6.00 so she asked for another 68 cents; I reminded her that I’d overpaid.  As she’d put in the wrong payment amount, she had no idea how much change to give me in return.  Her first excuse, was that she was tired as she’d worked all day.  I patiently told her to count back from $0.68 and guided her towards the pennies.  She then apologized because she’s “an art student – math isn’t my strong point” and couldn’t figure out whether to give me another 40 or 50 cents.  “Art Student” or not, she should know how to make change so she doesn’t get ripped off at the store for her art supplies.  Of course, she probably has a credit card and won’t need to worry about stupid things like cash.

That’s about all that’s going on right now.  Well, not really.  I have a 19 year old who works part time, and plays video games the rest of the time; a 14 year old who believes the only reason parents exist is to pay for his desires and a husband who doesn’t understand me after 24 years of marriage.  I don’t understand me either; so I guess he’s not alone.