Welcome to Dee's Pad

My life as a writer, and as a wife, mother, and grandmother.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

I've survived another decade!

How is it that life goes by so fast? One day you're a kid playing with your toys. Then you're a miserable teenager who can't wait to turn 18.

Suddenly you are married with children and pets--and you can't afford to go to the hair dresser often--wear frightful ugly glasses with poofy hair. But alas. A new decade arrives and new fashions.

Bell bottom pants, fluffy pleated tops and large hair.
Whoa! Made it through that phase.

Suddenly, you are the mother of snarly teens and your house is filled with other teens, because you are the cool parents. How did that happen? Could it be the other parents opted to ship the kids off--to your house?

In a flash, you become grandparents. You know you can't possibly be old enough to have grandkids, for heaven's sake. But there it is, this little girl with the blond curls and big blue eyes looking up at you and calling you Gammy.

More grands come along. Serious ones, funny ones, and the Hurricane ones. Like Hurricane Emma. She helps herself to a pudding in the fridge and decides to take a beer with it. She's two-and-a-half years old. Of course he isn't allowed to have the beer but says, "Well, someone might want one."

And her more serious niece, Autumn, who actually picks up her toys and puts them back where they belong.

About the time Emma outgrows terrorizing our dogs, Maggie, Zeus and Icarus, along come Noah with the strong hands. We hear a blood curing yell from one of the dogs who Noah has grabbed by the head--ya know, like he picks up his stuffed toys? And they snap at him. He stares at his hand and open and closes it, like he's trying to figure out why the dog was upset with this strong hand that was only trying to pick the doggie up. By his ears.

I am happy to say that the three older boys who are 10 and 11 years old were actually good this year. No jumping on the furniture, no throwing things at each other in the yard. Why? Because they got those hand-held games and were engrossed in them. And they got marshmellow shooters which they took into the yard and shot.

So now, I must make resolutions for the coming decade. What will I do? Will I ever have that book published? Will I be the Grandma Moses of the writers? Will I continue to do temp work at the college so I'll have good excused not to babysit the wee ones?

And how will my book trailer turn out for the Obitch Queen?

Hope you have a great New Year.