Today is my father’s 80th birthday. As many of you know, I’ve had an ambivalent relationship with my father since my mother’s death, but to his credit, he tries to come and see LG when he can. He’s been to all of her birthday parties. Last year, he spent Christmas with us while She Who Shall Not Be Named was out of town. So, he’s trying.

My dad was here Saturday for LG’s party, of course. I thought, as I watched him walk to the door, that he looked very old. Mike’s dad is only 2 years younger, and I doubt anyone who sees him would believe he’s only 2 years away from 80. My dad is doing all right, though. He’s hanging in there and he still gets out and about.

Today is also Pearl Harbor Day. My dad turned 14 the day the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.

My father called tonight to tell us that She Who Shall Not Be Named is in the hospital in Texas with congestive heart failure. It’s certainly not necessarily a fatal condition, as my dad has gone through it no less than three times, but I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t cross my mind that it would be easier for me on the land issue I mentioned the other day if she ceased to exist before my dad does.

If that makes me a bad person, so be it. The two people I mentioned that to said that first of all I can’t help my thoughts considering how nasty she has been and that she has brought it upon herself.

If you want to know the story of the land issue, click: (Read on …)

My father usually calls on Thursday mornings when she who shall not be named goes to get her hair done. So, this morning he called and we were actually in the middle of doing some music so I didn’t talk to him very long, but long enough for Little Girl to sweetly say “hiiiii!” and “bapa!”

He then asked me what we were doing for Christmas. Which, although I’m sure many of you people out there know what you are doing for Christmas Day, I really don’t have any clue yet. Part of it depends on whether or not they hire a new choir director and Mike doesn’t have to do all the Christmas morning masses (they freaking better hire a new choir director SOON is all I have to say about that). Mike’s family has a big get together before Christmas with all the cousins and siblings and kiddos and in-town family, which is great because then we are all free to not feel guilty if we can’t make it to someone’s house for Christmas. Last year, Mike’s parents and grandfather came over to our house and I made a fairly simple dinner. Since we have so much going on Christmas Eve night, the last thing I want to do is make an elaborate meal, but it was nice anyway. I sort of assume that is what we will do again this year. It’s just easier that way. Mike’s mom doesn’t have to cook, other than to make whatever she brings to contribute to the meal, and they don’t have to clean up. Plus, all his siblings live on the other side of town, so it just works out best for all of us.

Anyway, back to my dad. He asked because he is going to be alone for Christmas. She who shall not be named is going to spend Christmas with her children in Texas and he says he doesn’t want to go back there where it’s cold. Guess I can’t blame him much for that. Also, she’s staying until mid-January because one of her grandchildren is getting married then. I suspect we’ll see a lot more of my father those few weeks.

So, he wants to come over and spend Christmas with us. Which is fine. And weird. I haven’t spent Christmas with my father since before my mother died, so that would have been 1999, believe it or not.

This will be a really special Christmas, because even though it’s LG’s third (!!!) Christmas, the first Christmas she had only been home from the hospital for 5 days and she was only 3 weeks old. Last Christmas she didn’t really “get” it because it was the first Christmas she was really aware of. So this Christmas should be really amazing and fun. Because she will “get” it. And she will have just ripped open gifts covered with wrapping paper a few weeks before on her birthday. So it should be a LOT of fun. I think I’ll invite him to come over sort of early in the morning so he can enjoy the fun.

I think it’s really important that she spend at least one Christmas with her grandfather, and this may be the only one she ever gets. He’s going to turn 79 a few days after she turns 2, and who knows when she who shall not be named will be gone for Christmas again?

I still remember the Christmases that my maternal grandfather would come and spend with us. Oh, how I looked forward to those visits! I want LG to have good memories of her grandfather. I’m sure at some point when she’s older I will tell her the truth of the situation, but for now, I want her to build as much of a relationship as she can such as it is.

And in the meantime, I thank God for Mike’s parents who are always there to watch her when we need them to and with whom she has an awesome and wonderful relationship. I miss her at church on Sunday nights, but the time she spends with her grandparents is utterly priceless. And she needs to have some of those priceless memories of her other grandfather stored up for when he’s gone.

So, the face of our Christmas Day just changed. I think for the better.

Okay not of eating it, just of cooking with it. I didn’t even get done with my baking. Hopefully I can finish tomorrow morning. Bleh. At least I had a little company to help distract the child and keep me on track.

So today went something like this: (Read on …)

Thank you for the pretty horsie and doll. Mommy will not let me play with the doll alone yet because she says I am too good at putting things in my mouth. I’m glad you came to my party. I would like it if you visited me more often.

I got you a birthday card, but Mommy misplaced it while she was cleaning. If she finds it, she will mail it to you. Happy birthday anyway!

Love,
Little Girl

In case you were wondering, that is word for word (other than the signature) the thank you note I sent my father which he should get today on his birthday. Do ya’ think he’ll get the hint? :P

No not Karin the parent, but Karin the daughter/daughter-in-law.

You may have noticed (or not) that I very rarely say anything about anyone in Mike’s family here on ye olde blog. For the most part, that’s because I consider them good people and even though sometimes things happen that drive me nuts, I don’t usually feel the need to vent about it on the internet. I don’t really think anyone in any part of my family or Mike’s (other than my cousin) reads this blog or even knows that it exists or where to find it. However, on the off-chance that someone might stumble on it some day, it just seems prudent to keep my mouth shut. On the other hand, I obviously have no such compunction about spouting off about my father and she who shall not be named. For one thing, I’m fairly confident they will never find this site because their knowledge of the internet is very limited. And for another, if they did find it? I really wouldn’t care if they read what I said about them because 1) my dad might have his eyes opened and 2) she deserves every word I have said about her and many more I haven’t said.

That being said, I feel the need to vent today. So be prepared. (Read on …)

As most of you know already, today is/was my birthday. This is what happened. (Read on …)

Okay, people, it’s FRIDAY!!! Yay!!! Although I don’t know why I’m excited because it means my husband will go to work and leave me alone with the child all day and all night. So yeah, yay Friday. :P

Anyway, yay Flashback Friday at least! It’s your turn. ‘Fess up. Tell us about when you burned the roast beef when your future in-laws came over or how you forgot to put the yeast in the bread and it never rose or how you mistook the salt for the sugar or vice versa and had a very interestingly flavored dish. Not that I did any of those things. I didn’t! Really! But maybe YOU did or worse or funnier or better! So, write your post and then come back here and leave a comment or send a trackback and we’ll all come over to your blog and laugh at you commiserate with you over the great meal that wasn’t or at least almost wasn’t. Okay, get out of here and blog people! BLOG!!! Wait! Read my post first and then blog! Thank you! :D

I’m not really much of a scrapbooker. Okay, let’s really be honest here. I’m not a scrapbooker at all, because for one thing I just don’t have the patience to do it. And for another, for the most part, I’d rather just look at a photo album than a scrapbook. There are exceptions. I think scrapbooks that tell stories are awesome - like a vacation or a special event or maybe even the story of ancestors or something like that. But to scrapbook every facet of my life and every picture I own? Not so much. So, with those things in mind, I mentioned to Marlene that I wanted to learn how to scrapbook and asked for suggestions on how to go about doing so. Her suggestion was that she will teach me…lol. So Friday night we’re having a scrapbooking party/lesson/or whatever you want to call it. My idea is that I want to put together a scrapbook about my mother for Baby Girl.

So, to get ready for our scrapbooking extravaganza on Friday night, today I was scanning old pictures from my mom’s photo albums. And here’s the thing. She who shall not be named? Was friends with my mom when they were young. And there are all these pictures of her in the photo albums. And it takes every bit of my willpower to not rip them to shreds or burn them to ashes. Because why do I want pictures of the person who did not even bother to tell my father that I had an emergency c-section and he was a grandfather eight weeks early? Why do I want pictures of the person who has been nothing but vile to me and my family for practically their whole sham of a marriage? Why do I want pictures that make me think about someone that I try very hard not to think about because I don’t want to do the anger thing anymore? WHY?

Breathe Karin breathe. Okay. There is a reason why. And the reason is that those are my mother’s memories. That bilious creature who is unfortunately part of my father’s life now was a part of my mother’s life then. And she obviously had some redeeming qualities at some point because otherwise why would my mother have been friends with her? It would be wrong of me to destroy her memories. Because maybe, just maybe, it will matter to my daughter some day to know that at least when she was young, the person who does her best to keep her grandfather away from us was cared about by her grandmother, and that should mean something. Shouldn’t it?

I was just exchanging email with Theresa and it brought back a memory that I just had to share with you all, because really, who else could I share this craziness with?

We were discussing the fact that my family raised chickens when I was a kid (you really have to read the post that brought this all on to understand), and also the fact that I have a cousin Elmer in Texas who raised pigs. No really. I do. And out of that came the fact that my father used to wear denim overalls all the time. Why? Okay, if you had ever met my father? You would not ask that. Anyway, not only did he wear overalls. My mom got him a pair of Hee Haw overalls. And he wore them. Not just around the house. In public. Not just in public by himself when he went to buy chicken feed or something like that. No he wore them in public ALL. THE. TIME. But wait, there’s more. He wore them in public when I was with him. When I was a teenager. In public. In front of other people. No really. He did. I kid you not.

So, if you ever wonder why I’m the way I am? Just think of my dad. In his Hee Haw overalls. In public. That should explain everything.

Today would have been my parents 50th anniversary if my mom was still with us. I think my father and she-who-shall-not-be-named are having (or had) their 5th anniversary somewhere around this date. I could look it up, but I refuse to waste any more energy on her than I have to, so we’ll just leave it at that.

I am sure I would have thrown them a wonderful party tonight to celebrate, so I think I will indulge myself and imagine what it would have been like if my mom was still around. (Read on …)

Taking a break from reading…I’m on Chapter 10 at this point. That’s from waking up in the middle of the night and reading a few chapters. Anyway, I’ve had something on my mind this week, and I haven’t written about it yet, because I’ve sort of been turning it over in my head. Now, I guess I’m ready to share. (Read on …)

My father called today to check on the little one (and me too I guess). He had apparently stopped by last week, but baby and I were at the store. He called Mike to tell him he missed us. So, this week he called. I know it is good that he calls, but talking to him on the phone drives me NUTS. He can hear maybe half of what I say, and so I end up repeating things a million times. It doesn’t matter how slowly I speak, because he can’t hear high frequencies and being female my voice is somewhat high. So, I repeat myself over and over and it drives me CRAZY. He has this hearing loss from riding on fire engines with the sirens for twentysomething years. However, no matter how you put it, there is no way he will even THINK about getting a hearing aid. He doesn’t need one he says. Well, HELLO???? If you can’t hear what people say to you, maybe you need some frigging help. I know. I should just appreciate the fact that he calls, but it’s so &*$&#* frustrating that I almost wish he wouldn’t. I just can’t win. :P

So my little one has many fans…even her Grandpa has come to see her TWICE! Admittedly, it was while the wicked witch (or his wife if you want to be nice) was out of town, but hey…at least he came right? He even brought her a Christmas present.

He told me that he missed his wife while she was gone…the house was lonely. I said…get a dog.

The next time he was there he said he doesn’t know the word for what is wrong with her. I said…mental illness?

Okay, I know those were not the nicest comments, but the woman didn’t tell my father I had a baby. So, I just don’t really believe she deserves anything less. :P

So, I don’t know that he will manage to continue visiting now that she is back, but I guess we will just have to wait and see.

You know what the commercial says: “having a baby changes everything”

So true.