Most importantly this week, I’m asking for prayers for my Aunt Beverly. She’s been ill and has finally agreed to go to the doctor today. I hope whatever is wrong can be easily identified and treated so that she’s back to her usual sassy self. For those of you who follow her fabulous food blog, Beverly’s Back Porch, this is the reason she hasn’t posted any new recipes for a while.
Aaron and Catherine were here until Monday, and it was hard to let him go back to school. I’m trying to hang onto every single moment I have our family together, watching a movie and eating pizza or snuggling with the dogs. It’s not that we won’t be a family any more once Aaron’s married, but he and Catherine will be their own little family, and that has to come first for them, with their families of origin coming second. I know that’s how it’s meant to be, but that doesn’t make it any easier to let go.
Aaron turned twenty-one on Wednesday, and even though he’s not a drinker he partied it up with a bunch of his friends in the traditional manner. Catherine was his designated driver and supplier of the food and water that kept him from being miserable the next morning. He started out drinking something called a “dancing bear” and moved on to drinks and shots with strange names and unknown ingredients. I doubt it’s an experience he’s likely to repeat, so I’m fine with it.
I’m alternating between loving John so fiercely that my heart nearly explodes with pride and wanting to sell him to the gypsies. Within the past two weeks he’s gotten me screaming at the top of my lungs, cursing, slamming stuff around mad twice. The teen years are going to be a struggle with this one, and I freely admit that it’s due (in part) to the fact that we are too much alike. *sigh*
Am I the only one who wonders why Nike dropped Lance Armstrong like a hot potato for the steroid use scandal but still gives Tiger Woods, serial adulterer and pathological liar, a bazillion dollars a year to hype their stuff? If this is a decision about morality and not wanting someone to represent their brand who sets a poor example for young people – hello? So steroid use is somehow worse than Tiger not being able to keep his pants on? Really?
I need to switch out summer clothes for winter clothes, but I know as soon as I do we’ll have an eighty-degree day and I’ll be trying to drag those Rubbermaid totes out of the closet again. I went through the closet in search of a winter coat for John and of the half-dozen I had him try on only one fit – the one I was sure would be too big. Not that I actually expect him to wear it, though. He’s still attached to an army jacket his grandfather wore in Germany and I don’t expect to get it off him until it literally falls off his shoulders in tatters – but that could happen this winter.
I’m still waiting for a call from my new pain management doctor. In the meantime I’m just trying to work on my attitude. I’d like to go into this hopeful and optimistic rather than cynical and distrustful. Wouldn’t it be nice if attitudes had a “reset” button? I used to be able to do that – just force myself to put what had so far been a crappy day behind me and start fresh. Maybe I just used up all my “resets”.
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