Another milestone

People are always talking about ‘developmental milestones’ with regards to kids.

Crawling, sitting up, first steps.

First words.

First time to say “no”, first tantrum in a public place.

Later there is things like first date, first drive, first driving date (heh, see my Meatloaf Entry below, lock up your daughters!), first credit card, first apartment, first marriage. That stuff’s way down the road for us.

My little girl did just reach a new milestone: She is now mobile enough to reach the kitchen trash can, and put something in it.

This was, of course, a scary moment for me when I first realized it, watching her last night as she slam dunked her sippy cup into the can like Kobe, well, like Kobe slam dunking a sippy cup. This is what I realized: She’s been doing this for a while. And I haven’t been taking inventory. I have taken out the trash, daily, so god only knows if anything valuable has already escaped the house. Things like, say, a wallet or a cell phone or CDs or my son’s gameboy games. Or the checkbook. (see, her milestone a couple weeks ago was deciding Mommy’s Purse was the place where All Good Things Live).

And also, as I write this, I realize that I need to come up with some cute names for my kids here in Blogotropolis. Busy Mom has Busy Girl, Zoot has LilZoot, Cammie has Biscuit. Lee has Danger Girl. I need something cute, too! (but, being a guy, it’ll probably wind up just a serial number or something)

Aint no doubt about it, we were doubly blessed

Hell, I can’t leave a depressing post at the very top of the page, so here’s some distraction.

One of the best songs, ever. I still can’t believe GM tried to use this in their commercials for the “24 hour test drive”. Heh.

Meat Loaf – Paradise by The Dashboard Light

Boy:

I remember every little thing
As if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake
And there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl
Looking any better than you did
And all the kids at school
They were wishing they were me that night

And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we’re glowing like the metal on the edge of a
Knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C’mon! hold on tight!
C’mon! hold on tight!
Though it’s cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light

Girl:

Ain’t no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed

Ain’t no doubt about it
Baby got to go and shout it
Ain’t no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed

Continue reading →

So now what? WHAT?

So my wife left five hours ago to go help clean up her dad’s place. She’s teaming up with a sister or two and they hope to box everything, throw out trash, etc and then somebody will rent a truck or something and move everything to storage. Her dad will never see his house again; he is in too much pain to travel the 90 some-odd miles to get there.

Well, he just called. Thursday is his day for chemo. He said today he asked his doctor for a prognosis. His doctor looked him in the eye and said “Bad.” The only thing they can do is limit the pain, the cancer is in the bone (spine). No recovery, no nothing. Just try not to have him hurting so much.

“Well, that’s the bad news. The good news is, the house sold.”

He then launched into ten minutes of talking about his estate – they close in about four weeks. He doesn’t really care what happens to the stuff, he doesn’t want anything. Invest the money to support his ex-wife for as long as possible. “Just remember, the movers charge by the pound, and the mile. So every pound you throw away, it’s that much longer that you can support your mother-in-law.”

He finished up by telling me I was the best thing to happen to his daughter and his family, and not to feel one bit sorry for him since he’s lived a long roller coaster life and enjoyed almost all of it. Then he goes “So, may I speak to my daughter, please?”

“Well, she’s not here, she went to pack up your house.”

“Oh, okay, well, some other time then. I’m going to bed now, I’m exhausted. Good nite.”

So what the fuck am I supposed to do? I tried calling her cell and her sister’s house, no luck. I think I picked a bad week to quit drinking.

The kids wonder why I sit at the computer and cry so much.

Update, next morning: I talked with my wife a bit ago, she (on the outside at least) is not at all upset by anything that has happened. Apparently her dad called her sister and “was very mean” to her, so they’re all acting like, “whatever.”

*SIGH*

I do wish to thank everyone for their support (public and private), it means a lot. As if you couldn’t tell I don’t really have anyone else to talk to about this, so you’re stuck with it. I will try and keep a stiff upper lip for the weekend, at least. Thanks.