Papaw Junior

I am fortunate enough at 36 years old, to still have 3 out of my 4 grandparents with me. The only one that has passed, is my paternal grandfather that we all called "Big Daddy". Big Daddy aquired his name for a reason. He was a big man- a really big man. That was a part of why his health failed him so miserably. He passed away 15 years ago, in his sixties.

My paternal grandmother is in the nursing home. She is in fairly good health, although she calls my mother every night with a new ailment. My mom pretty much just listens to the latest problem and sympathizes- only to listen to a new condition the next night. My dad, although it is his mother, isn't near as patient with her.

My other set of grandparents, my mom's parents, live only about 3 miles from me. I run by often and help with errands. I go to the bank and pay their water bill for them each month. Sometimes I run medicine by; or a loaf of bread. I see them fairly often because I live so close by. I don't see my maternal grandmother near enough. Although I know the excuse is poor, it is still the truth- I can't stand going to the nursing home. It is depressing to me and I constantly worry that my kids will get sick from going with me. On top of everything else, I honestly just have a hard time fitting it into a typical day. I tried to go by during my lunch break before but unfortunately, it was Nannie's lunch time too- as she soon reminded me. "Why don't you come back after lunch.." that was Nannie's position on me interrupting her banana pudding solitude.

A few years back, we all started noticing a difference in my Papaw. The little man with a fascination with keeping everything and pinching every penny, all of a sudden was forgetting things. He was doing some "off the wall" things that just didn't make since. After insisting on a trip to the doctor (against his will), we come to find out Papaw would only get worse- he was succumbing to Dementia.

Now, as time has gone on, he has progressively gotten worse. He is just a fraction of the Papaw that I grew up with. He is still in the small framed package God wrapped him in but he only shows portions of the grandpaw that used to let my sisters and I pump gas with him at his filling station.

Yesterday, Papaw fell down. He fell fairly hard, to hear my Mamaw tell it. After Mamaw and Papaw's nurse, Sandy, insisted that he needed to be checked over at the hospital, he was taken to the local emergency room. All the while, my sweet little Papaw never even knew he was hurt. It turns out the leg he kept rubbing after the fall was indeed a broken hip.

I am ashamed to admit that I can't remember for sure how old Papaw is. I believe he is 82 years old. It is either 81 or 82. It doesn't really matter. Papaw couldn't tell you how old he is either.

Tonight, he lays in a hospital bed at a far away hospital following his hip surgery. He is in ICU. He was told to press the button for pain medication as he needs it. Papaw will never remember to do that. He will just moan when he is in pain and I will say a prayer that the nurse listens to his sounds and presses the button for him.

While Papaw is resting after his surgery, I am remembering. I remember when Papaw bought us the scooter to ride up and down their street when we came to visit. I remember Papaw letting us "work" at the station and paying us a few dollars to go spend at the gameroom. I remember Papaw and Mamaw lugging my sisters and I around the fair in ninety degree weather.

I know Papaw's hip will heal. His mind is what I worry about. That's okay though... I know God fills Papaw's heart. As far as his memory... I can remember enough for the both of us.

Never let your teens babysit...even for an hour

What a crazy week. I have missed a couple of nights writing but honestly- I have a good excuse. Thursday was opening day for my new paper- The Towns Tribune. It went fantastic! I couldn't be prouder of how opening day went. We had subscribers coming through all day long and such much needed display ads were contracted.

Following the big day at the office- I covered my very first event for the Tribune. It was a meeting at 5:30 that same day. I was crowded with people asking about the new paper (including the competition- LOL). Like a proud mommy, I was telling everyone about our new plans.

Friday was slower- primarily due to weather. We had yet another snow and of course with that- the kids got out of school at noon. I kept the office open as long as I could but when 3:00 rolled around and the white stuff was sticking- I decided to call it a day and head home. I am not one of those grand drivers that insist they can drive in the stuff. I know I can't, at least not well.

So last night, two of my daughters had friends over. My 15 year old, Whitley, had her long time friend Lauren over and my youngest daughter, Madison had a friend over. This was the first time that Lea had spent the night with us, although she and Madison have been friends for about a year. Well, I know her mom well, we are friends, so I was not concerned with the "It's a new friend" rule- you know, the one where everyone has to be on their best behavior so the new guest isn't scared off. I knew Lea would stick. Evidentally I should have told the other kids that the rule did apply because they were not well mannered at all.

John and I had to go get a small amount of firewood and the girls were insisting on Slushies from the nearby convenience store. Since we only had one of our four wheel drive trucks available, we couldn't seat everyone in it so we told the older girls to watch the younger ones for about an hour while we dug our way through the snow and went on the much needed Slushie run.

Imagine my horror when we pulled in forty five minutes later to find the younger girls seated in the middle of the living room floor, back to back, with snow hats pulled over each of their heads and tied up with the horses' lead ropes. To beat it all- the little Yorkie dog (that looks like an angel but acts like the devil) had the ball on top of Madison's hat tight in her mouth and was pulling with all her might.

At first I just stood in the doorway with my mouth hanging wide open. I thought, "What in the world have those girls done!" Just as I screamed "WWWHHHIITTLLEEYYYY" at the top of my lungs, the younger girls died laughing. I knew then I had been pranked. The older girls appeared from the dining room dying laughing and pointing at my pathetic attempt to grin at their joke. The girls wiggled free and giggled about their conspiracy to trick me all night.

It seems the new guest fit right in- she was just as warped as the rest of them. Gotta love them!

Five, four, three, two, one.... blast off!

So, today was yet another snow day. Good grief; I am beginning to feel like we are caught up between the two movies, "Ground Hog Day" and "Snow Day". Needless to say, we got a dusting, so the kids were out of school.

The biggie about today was, this was my last day to 'get things done', whatever that means. Anyway, tomorrow is my opening day at the paper. I am so excited, yet nervous. You just never know what to expect. A thousand thoughts are running through my mind- "Where did I put the subscription forms?", "Did we network the computers right?", "Who will stay out front when I have to go pee (or worse)?" - yep, I am having all sorts of thoughts.

Today, my youngest daughter and I went out there and hung pictures, unwrapped brand new pens and paper and put staples in the staplers. We both made our lists of things to do and got cracking on them. The thing is, I know I had two or so more things on my list that wasn't crossed off- and now, I have lost it. Somewhere between going to the store and then All Star practice, it disappeared. Lord bless whoever reads it. They will think they have gotten a hold of some nut's to do list right before they were sent off somewhere.

Tomorrow, I will step forward and do my best. (I might even wear something other than a hoodie). I probably won't sleep much tonight but I have a feeling that I will spend a lot of that awake time talking things over with God. He always makes me feel better.

Tonight, I am going to make another list but on it will be only one item- succeed. I think I can handle that.

Dividing so we can Multiply (Eventually)

I happen to be one of those people that has to have certain things in multiples. For example- When I go to the grocery store to get milk, I get two gallons. When one of them runs out and we have to break into the second, I already start feeling like we are out of milk. I am pretty much that way about everything. If we have a dozen eggs, when it gets down to 6- I mark on my list that we are out of eggs. I am also that way about our finances.

It has been more than stressful over the past few weeks of managing two separate accounts. One of them our personal and the second, our business. When we went to Wal-Mart a few nights ago, we bought things for both home and the office so I naturally divided the order and paid for the home half with our debit card and the business part with the business account money. There has been so much to buy for the office that it can be overwhelming; especially while at the same time, I am trying to pay the bills at home on time and not forget any. (I said trying... not necessarily succeeding at all times.)

Anyway, we can now say that the Lord has provided... the lights are still on at home and nearly everything to open the doors at the paper is purchased. There are still a few odd and end items left to go but nothing substantial. I am so thankful.

Although I am thankful, I have this worry as I watch the amounts in both accounts slowly dwindle away. I realize that is what the money was put there for; to open the doors to the Towns Tribune. Still, it is scary to watch most of it fade away. In it's place sits- two computers, desks, a fax machine, copier and the list goes on and on.

Getting back to the "Can't stand it if there is only half a dozen eggs me", I start feel queasy at the thought of all the money that is gone. Even though there is still enough in place for the odds and ends and such, I like multiples and it seems as if instead of multiplying, I have spent the past month dividing.

Tomorrow, I am going to spend half my day at home. Over the past few, I have spent most of my day on the road talking to prospective clients and putting more and more items into the office. I have to take tomorrow to do laundry, clean the floors and get milk. We are down to one and only 2 eggs. How did I ever let that happen? I must be slipping. : )