What Mommy Doesn’t Know…


My daughter had a class all day last Saturday and she had asked hubby and I if we could watch the girls.   I pretended to think about it.  But it was an offer we couldn’t refuse. Like she didn’t know. Why doesn’t she just tell us when we are going to watch the girls? It would save time and texting.

Let me say up front that much fun was had by all and nobody got hurt. Grandma did re-learn some old tricks, however. I’m sure my daughter is fully aware of these things, so I didn’t bother  to mention them…

The things I re-learned Saturday:

Babies don’t know from grooming. Miss C. never seems to be bothered by her soft curls falling into her face. Her hair is a bit “wild” at times, but she looks so darned cute and I’m afraid to piss her off by trying to tame it into a pony tail.  So .. I don’t.  Well, Miss C. got frustrated during lunchtime and pushed her hair out of her face.  Using her open-faced peanut butter and banana sandwich. To her credit, it really did the job of keeping her hair in place.

Babies think they can fly. I don’t know where they get this idea.  I’m pretty sure little Miss C. can’t fly, which is why I freaked out when I was holding her and she pushed off with her legs and launched herself away from my body, her arms leading her like Superman.  I lunged and snatched her out of the air and back into my arms so fast, it was like time went into reverse. I know that for half a second that baby was airborne. Maybe they can fly, and it’s the landing we freak out about.

Today’s cartoons suck. What ever happened to the classics? Kids today are deprived of  The Roadrunner, Fog-Horn Leg Horn, Yosemite Sam, and the ever lovable Tasmanian Devil. I did not see one decent cartoon available for Miss P. Thank goodness for On-Demand and re-runs of Scooby-Doo, Tom & Jerry, and Micky Mouse. Miss P. is too old for Sesame Street, but graciously lets Miss C. watch Elmo now and then. I do my best to get Miss P. interested in classic movies & Disney.  But sometimes a girl just has to watch iCarly, or worse –Bratz!  If you have seen either show you can feel my pain.  At least she doesn’t beg me to watch Sponge Bob Smartie Pants  anymore.

Why Can’t You Take It With You?

material things

I am talking about material things.  Specifically my dearly departed mother’s things that she left.

My sister and I spent half the day trying on clothes that were too small for us. Mom was a very petite woman, but there were a few things we hoped would fit us since we had lost some weight last year. We were wrong. The awful truth was I had put some of the weight back on. This was painfully obvious seeing my undressed self in the floor to ceiling mirrors that cover mom’s closet doors. Gag.

I just lost my mother. A huge storm battered the outside of the house. Sis and I are overwhelmed with legal crap to take care of, as well as moms things. Many, many things.  I was already depressed, and now I am confronted with flab.  We didn’t bother to try her size 5 shoes on. The woman’s shelter residents will be very well dressed. The size 6 petite women, that is.  However, everyone there can have a new purse.

You think you know pretty much everything about your mother’s life. Then you find things that make you blush. Mom was even more interesting than we already knew. I can’t wait to snoop in the other half of her closet tomorrow!

secret things

An Ode to Mom

In case you wondered where the #@!!  I’ve been, or if I flaked out of the postaday2011 challenge, I assure you that you haven’t read the last of me. I spent last week at my mother’s bedside instead of my laptop. I can blog anytime, but mom would soon be gone forever.

This week I have the time to blog, but I am writing something else. An Obituary. Mom passed away on Tuesday, so I am already behind on this assignment.  Sunday’s local newspaper will have one  obit.  I am writing a different obit for mom’s hometown newspaper in West Virgina. She has family and many friends back there who deserve to know.

I knew my mom since I was a little kid, so this should be a snap, right? Ha!

I think the closer you are to someone the harder it gets. Perhaps you know too much and the problem is narrowing it all down. And how much is enough? I could not afford to write all I wanted to in California ($7.00 per 25 characters). West Virginia had a flat rate for whatever you wanted to send them, so guess who will read more and see a photo to boot?

The obits are almost identical. A couple of things were left out and some added to the one being published in West Virginia. I needed to filter out stuff that her kin would not approve of her [women] doing  (i.e.,  gambling, fast cars …).  I also added the High School she graduated from.

Don’t forget about the most important part of an obituary: the survivor list. Why  must we be recognized in an obituary?.  Because we are stuck here without our dearly departed  (who are not going to read the newspaper anyway), and we want everyone to know we’re hurting.

I love and miss you mom!

Nita McGuire
Nita Joyce (Browning) McGuire 1937 - 2011