as is

This post was written on what I think was a Wednesday, but I know it was the 18th day in the month of January in the year of 2012.

The majority of the blogs I read for fun are written by women at least ten years younger than I am. Shit, since I am now a venerated fifty years old (I honestly get nauseous ever time I type/say that) I would hazard a guess that most of them are actually TWENTY years younger than me. There just aren’t a LOT of bloggers out there my age that write about subjects that I am remotely interested in.

If you are and you do, I stand corrected.

One of the biggest things that I have a hard time wrapping my head around the mothers who treat their children as though they’re fragile little organisms that must be protected from everything from the common cold bug to the “f” word to … well, just about everything.

Kids are resilient little buggers and I state that from first hand knowledge. I had some pretty unpleasant things said to and about me as a child and had some downright evil shit DONE to me. I’m talking the kind of shit the people spend time in jail for, the kind of shit that gets their asses beat in the prison showers.

But I digress.

In spite of the shit that I endured as a child I managed to grow up and become not only a productive member of society (well, I WAS productive, I’ve slacked off just recently ); I have managed to maintain a pretty strong and secure marriage for 25 years and BigD and I have managed to raise two kids to functioning, pretty well adjusted adults.

What’s more, despite having plenty of googlies from my past to blame them on, I don’t have much on the way of drinking, drugging, gambling, eating or spending problems.

Honestly, I am the most normal crazy person I know (she said, patting herself on the back). If I could figure out how I managed to get out of that mess with the majority of my wits intact, I’d copyright – or trademark or whatever – the concept and make a bazillion bucks. I don’t KNOW why I’m not a crazy person.

I DO know however why my kids are as awesome as they are. I and their father didn’t try to shield them from everything that came down the pike, whether it was a cold bug or a swear word. When they were born we took responsibility for having them and gave up some of our freedoms, but not ALL of them.

We didn’t instill them with a false sense of privilege or entitlement and made sure that they learned respect and responsibility.

We didn’t buy them everything they wanted. We taught them that sometimes life wasn’t fair and that the good guy didn’t always win. We taught them that winning wasn’t everything.

They got yelled at and we spanked them up until they were too big to spank. They got their fingers smacked when they touched something they should have and they got their asses paddled for more serious infractions. But they were never spanked in anger and they never walked away from a punishment, whether it was a spanking or a grounding, without the reassurance that we loved them more than anything in the world.

I think my generation started this whole “protecting” their kids bullshit and it has morphed out of control to the point where our children and grandchildren have have no care or concern for anyone but themselves and their wants.

Feh …

knuckle down

This post was written on what I think was a Friday, but I know it was the 9th day in the month of December in the year of 2011.

After twenty-one years, you’d think I’d be getting over it.

I’m not. What’s more, I doubt that I ever will.

The holiday season (Christmas time, for all of you thoughtless, Christian-centric folks) season is upon us with all that entails and I LOVE that part of it. I love the decorating (well kinda). I love the cards in the mail. I love Bob Rivers – “Oh geez look at this“. And you KNOW I love the food.

Underneath it all though is that sadness. I have it over the course of the year at different times, but Christmas is the worst. Because Mama loved Christmas and because she died just five days before.

So the holidays are bittersweet for me.

This year, of course, my boy is over there in Minnesota and I don’t know if he’s coming home. Shit, I don’t even know if he’s alive – I NEVER hear from him unless I text him. Which reminds me …

Okay, he’s alive. Apparently he purchased “Boogie Nights” and thought fondly of his mother.

I am persona non gratis with my baby sister. We had quite the blow-up in June and we haven’t spoken since. The middle sister and I have always had that type of relationship, but LittleSis and I never have. It makes me sad.

I could be the bigger person and hold out the olive branch, but I’m afraid if I HAD an olive branch I’d commence to beating that “man” she’s married to about the face and shoulders with it and that would be the wrong thing to do.

Also, “The Holidays” directly precedes The New Year (we are still calling it that, right?) which means I gotta start thinking of all the things that are wrong with me and ways to fix it.

I’ll be busy til oh, right around May 1. Just in time for my 51st (!) birthday when I can start whining about being old.

Again.

Over the River …

This post was written on what I think was a Saturday, but I know it was the 26th day in the month of November in the year of 2011.

Over the river and through the woods,
To grandmother’s house we go;
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh,
Through (the) white and drifted snow!

Over the river and through the woods,
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes and bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.

Over the river and through the woods,
To have a first-rate play;
Oh, hear the bells ring, “Ting-a-ling-ling!”
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river and through the woods,
Trot fast, my dapple gray!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound!
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river and through the woods,
And straight through the barnyard gate.
We seem to go extremely slow
It is so hard to wait!

Over the river and through the woods,
Now Grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!

We didn’t go to Grandmother’s house, we went to ~~TheBaby’s~~ TheBug’s house (she’s really NOT a baby any more ) and she did a really great job of hosting her first holiday. I am so proud of that kid; she has grown into such a lovely and responsible young woman.

TheBoy DID text with love and let us know he missed us and wished he were home. I would have loved to hear his voice, but since it was me who told him that ANY contact, even a one-sentence text message was better that NOT hearing from him at all, I can’t complain.

I worry about him so; I KNOW that he’s no longer a child, he’s a young man of twenty-five, the same age his father was when TheBoy was born. He’s paying for his own apartment, he has two jobs, yada-yada-yada.

But …

He lives in Minneapolis (okay a suburb), and while it’s NOT the most dangerous city in the Midwest, it DOES make the top ten. He works a third shift in a convenience store – yeah, we all know about them.

So I worry. It’s my job. what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t worry?

Despite being worried about my children, all is pretty good over here at Casa de Looney. BigD and I are getting along famously and I am happy for that.

I feel how I feel and I decided this morning to try and see if I could make it through the end of the year without mentioning how shitty I feel, either here or IRL. Really, it’s at the point that if I have a good day THAT’S what is something that should be mentioned, so … let’s see how this works out.

I am out of order on the King Reading List – gah. I purchased 11/22/63 last week, when I was in the last third of Firestarter and of course, had to read it immediately. Finished Firestarter and realized that I do NOT have a copy of Cujo, unless it’s in the attic. Since getting into the attic is an exercise in futility for me without at least a little help, I bounced ahead to what I thought was next – Skeleton Crew. Of course, Different Seasons is next, but by the time I’d double checked I was already well into The Mist, which I finished last night. Tonight I will get back in order.

And yes, BigD, “Over the River” IS a Thanksgiving song, you twit.

little things

This post was written on what I think was a Monday, but I know it was the 24th day in the month of October in the year of 2011.

So what did I do this weekend?

I installed a filter on the shower – go me! I am hoping it’ll help with the dry hair and skin, though I have a sinking suspicion that THAT has more to do with the quality of my age than the quality of my water.

Finished The Bone Collector and have moved on to Night Shift by Stephen King and The Department of Lost & Found by Allsion Winn Scotch.

Made a SPECTACULAR (and yes, I DO say so myself) Hubbard squash pie. It was more or less an experiment to see if squash pie tastes like pumpkin pie.

It does.

Went shopping and to lunch w/TheBug, as always a bunch of fun. I really believe that if she wasn’t my kid we’d be great friends. She makes me laugh so much that after we’ve spent a day together I go home w/a stomachache.

So, what else?

Finished up a few sites over at MadBee. Things are percolating over there which makes me happy. I LOVE designing sites, if you or someone you know NEEDS a website I AM your go-to girl. No one faster or as inexpensive for the high quality of work.

HONESTLY.

Enough of that, I don’t really want to turn this into an advertising platform for my business. But just so you know

I’ve spent the last week or so tooling around the webs, catching up with the old gang. A LOT of them I’ve been in touch with via Facebook, so that’s cool.

It occurred to me while I was over there making Taco Bake for my lonely, lonesome lunch that I am going to have to be a bit more selective as to what I write about here. Since my blog (which has been around for YEARS) is now linked to my Facebook page (which has NOT been around for years), y’know.

So what’s the big deal, you may be wondering? Well, in the previous ten years or so, when I was plain old JL, I could be fairly explicit with just about anything, whether it was married stuff ( ) or detailed descriptions of the latest brouhaha I got into with – well, just about anybody. Now that JL and Jackee have merged, so to speak, things may have to be different.

It remains to be seen.

I am thinking of coloring my hair this afternoon. Truth is I’ve BEEN thinking of coloring my goddamn hair for the past three weeks. Thinking is as far as I’ve gotten. I know it needs to be done, but I just can’t seem to get my dead ass in gear to do it. I can’t seem to get my dead ass to do much of anything these days if the truth is known and I don’t know why.

Anyway – hair.

I don’t, as some suggest, need to color my hair because of “the grey”. I have little to NO grey and that is the damn truth. I have wrinkles, I have a muffin-top, I have grody callouses on the bottom of my feet. I can’t see six inches in front of my face without glasses. I suffer from a score of age-related female botherations.

But I DO NOT color my hair to cover the grey!

I know why I keep putting it off, though. It’s because the thought of keeping my arms raised for any amount of time just makes me think, “Aw, fuck it, let go blah.“

Catch-Up Time

This post was written on what I think was a Friday, but I know it was the 14th day in the month of October in the year of 2011.

Okay, really fast:

Buncha people died
TheBoy moved all the way over to Minneapolis
Packers won the SuperBowl (we’re pretty sure it’s because TheBoy moved to MN)
TheBug got a boyfriend (who coincidentally works for the Packers)
I gave up NASCAR for MLB
The Brewers are playing off for The World Series
If the Brewers win the World Series, TheBoy can never move home from MN *
I got a chihuahua (I KNOW, right?). She is spoiled
I am still married and he’s still alive (I KNOW, right?)
I am still designing websites (see here)
I got sucked into the world of the RH (I designed the official website for one of them)
TheBestFriend got a new BF, as well. He is apparently more important than me
I am still fat and lazy
I still have red hair. Well except for those 4-5 GRAY ones that I found this week
I am now 50 GODDAM YEARS OLD (ahem)
Uh … early onset Alzheimer’s?

* If the Brewers actually WIN the World Series hot on the heels of the Packers winning the SuperBowl, I am fairly certain that Wisconsin will implode, leaving a glutinous mass of beer and cheese to ooze into several of the Great Lakes.