I'm Gonna Cry. And I'm Not Ashamed!

Today is D-Day for millions of us. For years we have had been stereotyped as "lazy", "bon-bon eaters", "ass sitters".

When in reality, we were only escaping reality for an hour Monday through Friday. To join families that were, while imaginary, still like us in so many ways. And they tackled some of the very same problems that happen in everyday life.

After today, they will no longer be joining us in fantasy-land. Some of us have been watching since we were children. And some of our parents were still "kids" themselves when it first aired.

Today, we will say our final good-byes to the Mannings, the Buchanans, the Evans clan and to One Life To Live.

For 43 years, Viki, Asa, Dorian, the Woleks and a host of other characters in it's over-four-decades run came on to our TV screens. They made us laugh. They made us cry. Sometimes, they made us angry, too. But for an hour, their world was my world, and vice versa.

One Life To Live, as well as All My Children were what I used to escape my everyday life. Be it at it's regular time, or from my recording it on VHS tape to watch during the weekend.

It gave me a "normalcy" in a world that for me, was completely turned upside down due to the passing of my mother in 1989. During the summer, with exception to an episode here and there due to trips and whatnot, I watched religiously every single day. From 2-3 PM, Monday through Friday. Even my Nana got in to them. Mainly AMC. But it was something BOTH of us could relate to and talk about.

Since day one, I have always been a Bo Buchanan fan. Not so much a Bo and Nora fan, per say. And in all honesty, I liked the pairing of him and Paige the best (the second Paige of the three actresses that portrayed the character). Poor Bo. He's been through SO very much. And SO many loves and marriages. But all in all, he had ALWAYS remained true to himself and to those around him. Especially his "Pa", Asa Buchanan.

I wasn't around for the beginning of OLTL. But I am here for it's end. But like many other fans, it will ALWAYS be in my heart, in my memory and a topic I'll talk about from time to time.

For it may be a show to some people. But for myself, and oh so many others, it was an escape, and a place in time of Television where you could INDEED relate to someone, no matter who the character was.

Art imitates life. OLTL Creator, Agnes Nixon speaking of fake Soap, "Fraternity Row", while in reality, speaking of her baby, "One Life To Live"...




The embedding is disabled for the next one that I wanted to show you, but you can view it by clicking on THIS LINK (Viki's Voice-Over: "Soap Opera's Are About Families"). Again, in reality, Viki's portrayer, Erika Slezak, is speaking about OLTL and how us soap fans view our shows.

Clint Buchanan's revelation about "family" always being there, no matter what, can be seen under THIS LINK. As is watching Rex, Gigi, and Shane Balsam leave for England so that Shane can attend a prestigious Art School.

In 2007, Asa Buchanan's portrayer, Phil Carey had passed away. With the news of his death in real life, the show killed off Asa as well. He took no crap. Not on the show, and not in real life. A tribute video...




Also, the first "Clint Buchanan", actor Clint Richie had passed away after a "routine" surgical procedure. His tribute..




One Life To Live opening credits throughout the years of the show's run...




Thank you, Agnes Nixon, for creating a place for us that needed a helping hand in addressing problems of the world, and bringing awareness to them, and even a means to find how to help.

Thank you for giving me a place to call "home" in a world of fantasy, that in many ways over the years, mirrored my reality of the world around me. You had given me a place to venture out of my life of sadness, grief and depression, to smile a little bit, and even cry with the characters.

To the wonderful actors past and present, thank you, to EVERY single one of you, for your heart, dedication and LONG hours on sets to bring your fans a quality show and bringing out your characters in such a way, that they were true extensions of yourselves. And for making them BELIEVABLE, as well as relate-able.

To my fellow fans, I want to say thank you to you all as well. We have been able to give one another some WONDERFUL conversations. And even some civil arguments (LOL!).

But all in all, I will truly miss talking with some of my friends about what just happened to Clint, or Jessica. Or talk about how goofy David Vickers is being. Or how Todd Manning again has pulled a fast one and gotten away with something that in the real world, would have him locked up so fast, that your head would spin.

Thank you One Life To Live, because you have given SO much to us in your 43 years. I can't wait to see you all in future acting endeavors. But I will truly and honestly miss you all coming on to my Television screen from 2:00 til 3.

And the Gates Opened and God said "Come in My son".

We all knew that this was coming. For the last six months or so. But after losing other family members in the past that you "prepared" for losing, when the time comes, you are NEVER truly "prepared".

Last night we were told to get to Big Papa if we could because Hospice gave him just hours. So Scott and I placed the kids with some friends of ours and rushed over. He was ashen, pale and gray. His breathing was rattly and hard, thanks to the fluid on his lungs. He was sedated and given pain medications for comfort and so he wouldn't fight himself.

We stayed there a good hour or just a bit longer. All the while talking with Scott's Grandma and his Aunt, who was staying the night. As we left, we told Big Papa we loved him and to just rest and that everything was okay.

After leaving to get the kids, two of our nieces (sisters) apparently arrived not long after us. We missed one another by mere minutes.

We left at about 8:10 last night. Scott got the "call" at about 9:05, about ten minutes after we walked in the door for the night.

He died as the oldest niece was brushing his military-style cut hair. That was something ALL the grandkids and great-grandkids did. He paid them a dollar if they did a "good job", which of course they all did. *hehe*

This past Summer was the last TRUE family reunion with EVERYONE together. This year, it will be drastically different. And more morose and somber as we gather with one less person joining in watching the kids catch lizards and snakes in the backyard, eating up a storm and just having a fun time talking and being together.

*Big Papa with my girls, Skyler and Hayley (oldest of the three kids)*

*Big Papa with my son, Bryce and our oldest niece*

I can only imagine the reception Big Papa received as he entered the Pearly Gates. I know his sister and youngest brother were happy to be reunited with their big brother, as I am certain that it was a welcoming experience to see his parents again.

Big Papa was an extremely hard working man in his time, as he was the manager of a strong insurance company. And he served in the military in his youth. When he met his wife of 62 years, she had three children from a previous marriage. One of them being my Father-In-Law, whom he adopted all three after the couple had married. Then along came four other children that they had after that. So needless to say, he left behind many upon many hearts to grieve his passing. Between their seven children multiple grandchildren, and several great-grandkids and even a great-great-grandchild.

I think that the following song is extremely appropriate to say how I feel about a man that gave me a good taste of what life is like with having a Grandfather in your life, seeing as my granddads were dead before I was born. And thanks to Big Papa and his inclusion of me in to his family as "one of my granddaughters", I can never thank him (or Grandma) enough for the last eleven wonderful years of having a great man in my life such as him...Even if he was a Washington Redskins fan. I looked past that atrocity and still loved him anyways. (=

*I apologize, but VEVO just had to put a freaking commercial in this one..which is inappropriate for a song like this in my opinion.*



Go Rest High On That Mountain lyrics
Songwriters: Gill, Vince;

I know your life on earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren't afraid to face the Devil
You were no stranger to the rain

Go rest high on that mountain
Son your work on earth is done
Go to Heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son

Oh, how we cried the day you left us
We gathered round your grave to grieve
Wish I could see the angels' faces
When they hear your sweet voice sing

So go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to Heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son

So go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to Heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son

Go to Heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son

25 Days of Christmas (Day 12)

Tomorrow, I will start doing the actual "12 Days Of Christmas" where each day, right up to Christmas Day, I will focus on lines from the Carol. "Lords a leaping"?? What is that? Why FIVE golden rings? Don't worry, because as the days go on, you WILL find out the meaning behind them all.

But today, I think that I will give you these to watch and maybe have a few memories come back of watching these as children yourselves.

I'm only posting PART ONE of each. If you wish to see the entire episode, please go to YouTube and place in the show in the search bar and it will give you more options.

25 Days of Christmas (Day 2)

For this installment, I wish to share my favorite Christmas themed movies and television shows. A couple are traditional that all of us as a family (as in myself, my husband and our kids) watch every year.

First up is... "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation".

I don't care how many times I have seen this one, I laugh until I cry EVERY single time that I watch it. You can't get a more dysfunctional and diverse family as the Griswold's. Plus it is nice to see my cousin Mae Questel, who was the ORIGINAL model and voice for Betty Boop as the crazy, "not-all-there" aunt.

Clark really knows how to put on a show of lights for Christmas to!! Especially when it blinds the neighbors and causes a neighborhood-wide power surge.


Next up is... "Home Alone".

This is no ordinary kid. After being left behind when the rest of his family leaves for Christmas vacation, a couple of burglars invade the home in the hopes of getting some goods. Only their enemy, a ten year old boy is proven to be way too smart for the bumbling pair.

Again, no matter how many times that I have watched "Home Alone" (or it's sequel) you just can't NOT laugh at the stupidity of two grown men being outwitted by a little kid with some of the BEST booby traps I have EVER seen made, and not getting killed in the process.


Now, let's move on to... "The Muppet's; A Christmas Carol".

With a kid-friendly twist on the Charles Dickens classic, this would be a family crowd pleaser. If you love the Muppets (I have since they were on the "Muppet Show"), then I can say you will certainly enjoy the antics and comedy that goes in to setting Scrooge straight.


Now for a family tradition.... "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas".

This has been a timeless classic for me to view since I was a small child. Now, I carry along the tradition in my home, with my children. It's one of those times where I share a bit about my mom with my kids and give them a small taste of what my holidays were like with her.

And I swear to you, my youngest, when put in a Santa hat and pink jammies, is a dead ringer for Cindy Lou Who!


Another classic for my time, and more along my enjoyment is... "Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol" (featuring the late George C. Scott).

I'll be the first to admit, I am not the black and white, golden age movies kind of girl. Only a few b&w movies will I watch. And those, I can count on one hand. And as for classics such as Mr. Scott's portrayal of Ebeneezer Scrooge, he ALMOST got ranked with the classics that I really don't care to see.

That is, until my dad forced me to watch it one year as a teen. I loved it from that point on. Sure it started a bit slow. But the acting, the effects (for it's time) and the cast selection, as well as how they screen played the story grabbed me in, and I was hooked for life.

I'm thinking that I am starting to see a trend here...


Last, but most certainly not least, and yet another family show that my kids watch with me every year is... "A Charlie Brown Christmas".

How can you NOT love Charlie Brown's heart, caring and warmth in finding the "perfect" Christmas tree? All of his friends (Linus, Marcy, Peppermint Patty, etc.) all claim that Charlie Brown will do as he always does... screw up.

In the end, yeah, they are kind of correct. He does screw up. He gets the scrawniest, littlest, weakest tree because there were no other "good" trees available on Christmas. But in the end the gang learned a valuable lesson.

Less is more. It's the meaning, not the actual thing that counts. And something ugly can in turn be one of the most beautiful things of all.

So, there ends my Christmas time favorite movies and shows. Feel free to add your list as well to the comments. Or better yet, try jumping in and doing a "25 Days Of Christmas" with me! It's not too late to join in the fun.

See you all tomorrow!

25 Days of Christmas (Day 1)

And so it begins. Time to break out the holly and the lights. Time to place Santa and nativity in the yards.

And also, my first series in the Blogosphere begins. I can only hope that it will make jolly for my readers (with a tear or two trickling down your cheek from time to time).

Today, I'm touching on "Memories of Christmases Past".

When I was little Christmas was a big deal in my home, and within the extended family.

We decorated throughout the house. Hung Mistletoe, garland, lights and such. The tree was decked out in all kinds of ornaments, with any of my school-made-by-hand crafts at the forefront of the tree.

All the neighborhood kids would come over each year to our home for a Christmas Party, and Santa (who changed looks every year) would take gift requests from us children.

Then, we would also visit my Aunt (Mom's sister) and Uncle. Some of my Grandma's sisters would travel to California to spend time with one another and with their nieces and nephews. And there was my cousin Don, who stood at almost seven feet tall. He would hoist me on his shoulders and I could touch my head to the ceiling without even trying or "reaching" for it.

Sadly, pretty much most of them are now dead. Don fell victim to Lou Gehrig's Disease. All of my Great Aunts have passed due to old age or health problems. My Uncle is now gone, thanks to cancer.

But those family gatherings fell apart after my Grandmother's death. And even more so, after Mom's passing. Gone were the days of smiles, love and laughter.

Even in my home. Christmas was never really the same. Much more quiet and reserved. My family is gone now for the most part. All I have left is my Dad. And he is almost 3,000 miles from here.

Sure, I have my husband. I have his side of the family. And yes, we do Christmas big on that end these days. But it's not the same thing. They aren't MY family. Yes, I am "married in" and a part of the family.But still, it doesn't have the same... "meaning" as sharing the love, laughter and holidays, as it does with YOUR family. YOUR loved ones.

So, I am ensuring that the few traditions that my Mom had for me (as an only child) are passed along through me to my kids. Such as the yearly viewing of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" and "Merry Christmas Charlie Brown". As well as hanging the hand-made ornaments from my kids on the tree.

Plus, I have an ornament (and wish to add to them, seeing as the kids have grown greatly and their tastes have changed) for each of my children of cartoon characters that they enjoyed when little. And of course, I hang their "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments.

When I have grandkids, I hope to pass along the tradition to my kids to do the same.

I may no longer have the family I once did due to several heartbreaking circumstances that plagued us when I was young, but I still have my memories of beautiful Christmas times with my family when we were all happy and loved one another (seemingly) unconditionally.

And no one, family, friend or foe can take those times away from me.

A "Chew It Over With Twix" moment & A Special Memory.

You know kids. They are some of the most free-spirited, care-free people that you will ever meet in this old world.

And believe me when I say that I have three kids that certainly fit the bill. Primarily my youngest, Skyler, who will be turning six years old tomorrow *cries*.

Skyler had decided that last night, Dad's surprise trip to the McDonald's that has a play area was her "Birthday Dinner" (we each get to choose to eat where we wish to for our birthday). So be it. No biggie there.

As Skyler and I sat together in the two-person booth (by her request), while Bryce (her big brother) and Scott (my husband) sat at the table adjacent to us near the middle of the aisle, Skyler and I began a conversation that she started.

The very first thing out of my (soon to be) six year old's mouth is, "Mama, can I drive when I'm ten?". Quickly I replied that driving will not be a skill she will learn until she is sixteen, so she has another ten years to go. To which she stated that this time frame would take "forever".

But then without missing a beat, and with such a straight face, that she would be an awesome Poker player one day, Skyler suddenly blurts out, "Can I have a baby when I'm SIXTEEN?".

I swear that the crickets started chirping. And the look on my face I'm certain was beyond priceless. And in that brief moment, I honestly had the "chew it over with Twix" dude pop in my head with that freaking slogan.

After the shock of hearing that question, I (in what seemed like an eternity) suddenly shot back with, "No! Not until you are AT LEAST eighteen. That's the safety rule".

The gloomiest look came upon her face. And in the aftermath, I honestly had to bite my tongue as to be able to keep a straight face and not laugh manically at what just happened.

Well folks, it doesn't stop there, though. Later on after getting home, I decided to lay on the couch with my (old school) Walkman listening to all kinds of different tunes.

I'd turned to one station where the DJ was talking live to a little boy of maybe ten to twelve years old that had called in with embarrassing stories. And boy dandy was it a good one!

He said that one evening, his mom and he were out doing some Christmas shopping, and in the midst of it all, stopped and bought a couple of Chocolate Ice Cream cones. Afterward, they got back on road along the Interstate.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. And I'm not talking tinkling here, people. This woman had to G-O! So, she pulls off the Interstate and goes to (of all places) Kroger (my husband works for the grocery chain).

The little boy says that after getting to the parking lot, his mother jumps out and makes a beeline for Kroger's front doors, only to turn right back around and get back in.

All she says to her son is...

"Too late".

Yes. Your assumption is correct. The woman crapped her pants. So they get back on the freeway and head the rest of the way home.

After listening to this hilarious story unfold, it suddenly sprang to mind of the time when I was about fourteen or fifteen, riding in the car with my dad. We were in fact on the way home from doing some errands. Suddenly, he had the urge to pass gas.

But he knew that if he were to do so, then there would be one hell of a mess to clean up. So, needless to say, being a man in true form, he held it in with all of his might.

But all the holding in the world, even at no more than five minutes away from our house, was going to do. Nope.

Instead, he unwillingly let one rip. And that was all that she wrote. And of course it HAD to be on a cold day where you don't want to roll the windows down.

Next thing I know, my dad is sitting in the driver's seat, squirming like a baby in a car carrier. Then the odor hits me like a slap in the face. I literally must have turned in to Kermit the Frog, because man did I feel ill. And hence, I had to freeze my ass off thanks to needing FRESH air.

I asked my father if he felt better. When I heard the word "no" I about wanted to smack him. That's when he let me know that sadly he didn't make it (at the two minute mark of almost being home). Next thing I know, I'm sitting there almost having an Asthma attack from laughing so hard, that I start crying streams of tears and trying my best to breath.

Every time that my dad asked me to stop, I would only laugh harder. When we got home, he rushed in and showered. I was the lucky sucker (and as my "punishment" according to him for laughing)that got to take his crap-filled, streaked undies (they just HAD TO BE tighty-whities that day) and pants out to the garage and prep them for washing.

To this day, once in a blue moon that memory will hit me and I will just burst out in laughter. Or it comes to me from hearing some other poor soul's tale of incontinence, like it did for me last night.

When my father is long gone, that will be one of the happiest, funniest and most embarrassing moments that I will cherish for the rest of my days. Right next to Skyler's outrageous baby question.

Reality Sets In Three Fold For Me As A Mom...In One Morning.

That time for them has finally come to pass. No longer are they small, helpless, needy children. Now they are increasingly independent, strong, knowledgeable 'tweens'.

In one fail swoop, I'm being forced to not only start letting go of one of the three, but TWO of them at one time. And it will only get more difficult to do so as the next few years fly by.

Hayley started walking the five minutes to school last week, but still coming home on the bus. Now, her brother who is seventeen months her junior is starting to walk to school as well. And again, come home on the bus.

Which in turn has forced my (soon to be) six year old to be a "big girl" and ride the school bus on her own. But starting last week, she started riding ONE day a week after school to come home, being that both Hayley and Bryce are now in the after school program of Art Club.

This coming Thursday, Hayley, who is my oldest, will be eleven. Lord how these years have just flown on past. It's been a ride thus far. And with her mature attitude being more of a fourteen year old, her wings are spreading faster than I had hoped.

The week after, Skyler, who is the "baby" of the family will be six! So, soon, she will no longer officially be a "baby" of sorts to the world. She will no longer be a toddler or a preschooler. She will be an adolescent. Again, I am at a loss of where all the years have gone. Like a wind, they blew past with nary a care of what a mother's heart feels.

When I watched (through the closed front door's glass) Hayley and Bryce cross the street and head down the block towards school, I had them flash in my head as they were when they were little. I saw them as they used to be. Suddenly, I got back in to the reality of what I was witnessing, and for a brief moment, longed for those days once more.

Then, watching Skyler cross from about half way at the bus stop on her own (I walked her half way in to the street) to get on to it alone for the first time, my heart sank and I had to fight my wanting to walk her the rest of the way, it hurt to know that she too has stepped one closer away from me and becoming her own individual.

In these two brief moments of one morning, I wished to God I could stop time. Just for a few seconds. I wanted to turn back the clock to the times where they inherently needed me to the fullest extent. I have witnessed this morning the anxiety of a mother "losing" their children to the world. All at once. Each one making their own individual paths in the world.

How many ways can a mother's heart ache and break? Many. Including watching them all take their own paths in society and forming their own identities.

It's one thing to watch them do this one at a time. But to see all three of your children do this on different levels at once is completely overwhelming. Gone are the days of cooing, learning to walk and talk, being dependent even on me for the simplest of things and asking silly questions such as why the sky is one color and the ground another.

These are the days where you are extremely proud of who you are raising your children to be. But it sucks also, because in the same thought, you wish you could do it all over again with them and keep time as it is.

I Watched Someone Die Not Once, But Twice!

Today is World Alzheimer's Day. Do you know of someone that has been touched by this awful disease? Or, are you yourself inflicted with it?

My grandmother (Nana) had Alzheimer's. It started off slowly when I was still living in Nevada. Actually, I take that back. I strongly believe for her, it started while we were all still living in California, where I was born and primarily raised.

At first, it was very subtle. Nana would place something down in a pretty conspicuous place, where anyone with pretty good eyes (and back then, they were pretty good for her) could clearly see the object in question. Only, minutes later, she would get up and do whatever, only to search long and hard for what she "misplaced" moments earlier. When one of us (being myself, my dad, or my step-mom) would find it sitting practically in front of our face, we all would just laugh it off and chalk it up to Nana having a "blond moment".

But as time wore on, and after we moved to Nevada, things with Nana's memory was getting worse. And worrisome. She had gotten to a point where she could tell you about her childhood and teen years, but could not recite to you what she ate for dinner the night before.

Eventually, long after my dad and step-mother divorced, Nana's Alzheimer's really took a hold of her, along with the other factoring health problems (such as her COPD and her Emphysema). At this point, my father's own health was starting to rapidly decline, due mainly to the stress of being his mother's primary caregiver. Even with outside resources stepping in to help with her care...

Eventually, there was no other choice. And it was primarily for my father's health and sanity, that Nana was placed in to a Nursing Care Facility. Not too long after her transfer to the home, her mental status declined dramatically.

No longer could she tell you what she ate just a couple of hours before, for dinner or any other meal. Now, my father became my uncle. Because whenever my dad went in (almost daily) to see her, Nana thought that he was her oldest son, not my father. That really tore him apart inside. No longer was he the son that was REALLY there, and that was her main caretaker.

About a year or so after her entrance in to the Nursing Home, and at the point where that God-awful disease, Alzheimer's robbed my grandmother of her mental faculties completely, I got the call that I was dreading for the last couple of years. The day before her birthday, no less.

That next VERY early morning, I hopped on the first of THREE planes (stupid layovers!) to get to her, hopefully in time. She was in the hospital, her organs shutting down. Her mind now ravaged savagely by the Alzheimer's. They gave her (at best) 24 hours. It was then about the 23 to 25 hour mark when I got in to Reno, and hence to the hospital with my dad.

Somewhere in between his waiting for me at the airport and us getting to the hospital, Nana apparently suffered a Stroke. Her Hernia that she developed made her look AT LEAST seven months pregnant.

At one point, I had to leave the room. I could no longer take seeing her in that condition. For me, that was NOT *my* grandmother. That was *not* the same woman, by looking at her, that helped to raise me the rest of the way after my mother's death in 1989. So, as calmly as I could, I told her I would be back in a bit, as to let her rest.

For a brief moment in time, she had a twinge of clarity within her ravaged mind. Which of course, by then was moments that were far and few in between. She started mumbling and her hands started to go erratic. She was (in the only way she could, being she couldn't speak due to the stroke) trying to tell me not to leave her. She was getting so upset, I told her (through yelling, being the stroke damaged the nerves in her ears) I'd be back. She calmed a bit, but not much..Finally I had to leave. I almost got sick all over the ward's floor from seeing what I did. It was horrific..

Before that point, all she did was breath and stare at the ceiling without literally batting an eyelash. That alone brought me back to being 12-years-old and seeing my mother in pretty much the same condition after her stroke. For me, history was repeating it's self and rearing its ugly head before my very eyes.

The next day, we went back. She made it through her birthday. But later that next evening, something inside me said to NOT go and see her when they transferred her back to the Nursing Home. To die.

Not even an hour after I had changed my mind, we got *THE* call. She was gone. Free now, from the pain that she had to endure at the end. And finally, Alzheimer's Disease no longer had it's horrible grip upon her mind. She was free.

A few years later, my father and I were talking about Nana. He finally admitted something to me. Years before, when Hayley and Bryce were 2 years and 3 months of age, it was the ONLY time that she (Nana) was able to see, touch and hold her great-grand-babies. I'm so happy she was. And he even posted a family picture of us on her Nursing Home room's wall.

It came out in this conversation with Dad, that about a month before she passed away, Nana had forgotten who I was. She would look at the picture and without missing a beat, would ask my father who it was (the young lady) in the picture that was on her wall. Then she would ask about my (now) husband, Scott and the kids.

To hear that she no longer remembered the woman whom she helped raise tore me apart inside. It made me angry. Not at her, but at the disease. It made me resentful. Why me? Why did that nasty disease have to rob me of her, and in turn, her of me?

It's truly sickening to watch and know of someone you love, and that (more than likely) took care of you, just waste away to practically nothing. It is a disease I don't care to wish upon my worst enemy.

For me and my father, we didn't lose our mother and grandmother just once in our lives. We had to endure losing her twice. The first time, she was 'dead', but still breathing. And that is the worst kind of death, in my mind, to see someone you love go through.

If you wish to know more about Alzheimer's disease and it's history of origin, please CLICK HERE.

Memoir Monday w/Travis...The Parent Edition.

Got a memorable moment in your life that you wish to share? Then, click on the linky above, grab a button and share it with us with a Memoir Monday post!


Kids. They bring joy to your life. They let you live on, even after you are gone, being that you are a part of them. They give you unconditional love.

But they can be your worst nightmare as well. Attitudes, lying to your face, getting in to the junk food at all hours, waking you up at an ungodly hour of the morning to watch Saturday Morning Cartoons..Oh wait! That was me. My bad. Sorry, Dad.

My life BEFORE kids was much calmer. Sure I dealt with some real assholes in my time, being I have worked retail for most of my adult life (until the last kiddie came along). But having kids and dealing with them 24/7 makes you realize that dealing with the assholes of retail-society pales NOTHING in comparison, then having to deal with your own kids.

Back before my brood, I was able to stay up until four-AM, sleep in until noon, eat and cook whenever I wanted to. I would get drunk with my friends.

I even remember back in the day, out-drinking a MALE buddy with Jose Cuervo shots. Seven of them to be precise. He puked over the banister railing of the apartment complex I lived in. My poor neighbors. Talk about a surprise present.

Myself? Let's just say I got off easy. No! Not THAT kind of "got off". Get your minds out the ditch, would ya?? I meant that I had basically NO hangover, what-so-EVER! Just a slight belly ache. Otherwise, no pounding, blinding headache. No barfing on the bathroom floor, because I missed the toilet in a blinding haze of post-party rapture. Just a need for a couple Alkaseltzers, and I was good to go.

These days, I rarely get to go anywhere without AT LEAST one to two of three kids in tow. I don't get "mommy time" even while I sit my ass on the toilet! Plus, if I drink, it's ONE beer. And that is AFTER the kids are asleep. My hair now has more gray in it than a bird has feathers. My sanity is only now somewhat in tact...It doesn't help that the creatures I call my children are still on Summer Vacation.

But that changes in THREE WEEKS! Yes, I am actually counting down the weeks. And that last week, I'm gonna be counting down the days, as to remind the kiddies that I will regain my sanity the moment that I shove them under...er, I mean shove them ON TO the school bus.

Ah! What a life!! Both pre-kid, and today. I wouldn't trade them for anything. But I do miss my old, pre-kid life of pure independence.

It's (almost) that time again!!

I can see it in my head.

They get dressed in their khaki pants, polo shirts and their new school shoes. Bags are all packed and ready to go. A filling breakfast to boot (before dressing, of course).

But, alas, I have a month to go. That's okay. I can somehow wait. I've gone this long. But it will be SO nice sending them off to school once more.

The only part I don't like is that there is the fact of knowing that this is Hayley's last year in Elementary School. Here in Virginia, you go in to Middle (Jr. High) School at the Sixth Grade mark. And for me, that's a HARD pill, to swallow. Knowing that at this time next year, my "baby" will be in with the "big kid" crowd.

In the coming weeks, I will start shopping for them. Hitting the sales. Like the 24-count Crayola Crayons for twenty-five cents a box! And all three kids need them.

And for being in the Fifth Grade this year, Hayley is the CHEAPEST (between the older two, who are one grade apart) to buy for, surprisingly. Bryce (knowing from last year) will be the most expensive. And with Skyler, I might get away with being the cheapest of all three.

Please, don't get me wrong. I love my kids. I love being with them. And I certainly love doing things with them. But my patience and my sanity are waring thin. As is theirs with one another and with me. I've done what I can to keep them active and have fun. I plan on us all going next month, before school starts, up to the Blue Ridge Parkway and take a day for hiking and a picnic.

And of course, once everyone is settled in to school, then I will be filling out (once again) the paperwork to volunteer at school between one and three days per week. It gets me out of the house, involved with the school, lets me stay on top of school-related topics/problems and lets me enrich children's lives.

Though, I try hard to not 'work' in any of my kids' classes, if optional. With exception to some light filing and being a Room Parent (if needed).

So, on August 17th, I shall be marching down to the school (that is a five minute walk from my house) and register the kids. Although I had already PRE-REGISTERED Skyler before the 2009-2010 school year let out.

Then, on August 23rd, starts a brand new school year. And as much as I want them to get on that bus, I can guarantee that it may be a bit hard to see them go off once more to learn and grow. For that will be the end of another fun-filled Summer and another year of their childhood gone forever.

To this day, she still sings to me!

My mom, while alive loved this song. And I grew up listening to ABBA's music. To this day, I can still hear my mom sing this song in my head as I listen to the words and the music.






"Chiquitita" by the 70's band, ABBA.... (With the lyrics included)



Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong
You're enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow
How I hate to see you like this
There is no way you can deny it
I can see that you're oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, tell me the truth
I'm a shoulder you can cry on
Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on
You were always sure of yourself
Now I see you've broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving
You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita

So the walls came tumbling down
And your love's a blown out candle
All is gone and it seems too hard to handle
Chiquitita, tell me the truth
There is no way you can deny it
I see that you're oh so sad, so quiet


Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving
You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita