Hanging by a thread

So, what do you do when you go to a therapist for help and they don’t. Someone near and dear to me is going through a difficult time. This person really needs help. After waiting weeks for an appt with a therapist, this “therapist” did most of the talking and this hurting individual ended up leaving even more messed up then when they arrived. I thought mental health professionals were suppose to be deep listeners so they could understand the problem and then help the hurting soul to find some answers. Not, blame it all on the past and people that aren’t part of the problem or even thought of anymore. Why not just blame the problems on someone else, oh wait, we already do that. You would think someone with 6-8 years of training would know to dig a little deeper. I guess it is just a job to many in the mental health field these days. Never mind an individual may be hanging by a thread. Mental illness is a serious disease and not to be taken lightly. Oh better yet the next day, another trained professional diagnosed this person with a serious problem and the gave the hurting soul some major medication that would keep the patient more asleep than awake. Some may have the luxury of sleeping away their lives but this sweet soul has people that are counting on them. Not only heavy duty medicine but also prescribed a higher dose than even is medically recommended. Geesh, we are talking about human life here. I guess this person can wait a few more weeks for another appt. I just hope they will still be around by then.

naptime

Here my daughter and I sit, side by side, laughing until we tear up. The four year old is trying to nap about 20 feet from us.  In fact, just now that girl tells her mommy she misses her.  No flies on her.  Unfortunately for the granddaughter, the daughter is a tad sharper and is on to her gig. Of course no one can sleep with us two hyenas together.  Actually we just needed the “quiet time”. I am trying to blog and my daughter doesn’t realize the talking has ceased and I am “trying” to blog. I just offered her ten bucks to be quiet for ten minutes so I can finish this. I didn’t really phrase it that way but it got a laugh all the same. So now it is almost quiet except for the tapping of computer keys, so I guess I will get back to the point of the blog. The little granddaughter is laying there, for what probably feels like for days at this point and all of a sudden she jumps up and excitedly says “do you hear that?”  We stop our noise for a minute to listen. “Its one of those things out there”. It dawns on me she thinks there is a helicopter outside so we tell her to run out there and look, quick! She is so thrilled as she hustles her little four year old body to the porch. After a couple of minutes she comes and says she didn’t see it and grudgingly goes back to her “bed”.  A few minutes later, it happens again, only for her to run out again and have missed the big metal bird. I ask her if she will go out the laundryroom door and yell for the dogs.  As she opens the door to the laundryroom, we hear her laughing and she says “oh, it is the dryer!” We then hear the washer on spin cycle and all begin to laugh. Well, it really was funny but I guess you had to be here…

Middle Sister, Middle Daughter

My beautiful daughter turned 25 this week. We brought her to eat at Montana Mikes but better yet I found her a great bottle of wine. It was a little more than I wanted to spend but after prodding from my husband we splurged. Now one rule for a wine connoisseur is that you do not buy your kids a more expensive wine than what you drink. I mean they are kids, what do they know? But this wine is called Middle Sister. My daughter is exactly that and could tell you many hilarious stories of her middle spot with the girls growing up. (My husband is blah blah blahing in the kitchen right now. I can’t think!) Anyhoo, we are even thinking of planning a trip to one of their events. What a fun time. It would be good to get out of Kansas and back in my own stomping grounds where people “get” wine. My middle daughter just took a sip of her “Middle Sister” and quietly said to herself, “I love wine”. Talk about good timing. She really isn’t a lush, but give her time. Anyhow, there quiz said I was a Drama Queen, that is about all that they don’t have right. I want the t-shirt that says “peace, love, merlot. My kids all say I am an old hippi so it is a little closer to the “go with the flow” lifestyle I try to embrace.  Well I would write more but there is some sister in the kitchen calling my name.  Chill!

Wanted: hutzpah

We are all on different paths. In the next room there is some poor dead animal being ground up for jerky. I am not sure what kind of animal it is. I know it is is not the meat in our freezer. I won’t try the jerky. I am ashamed to say I do eat jerky and meat and I like it. I don’t like that I like it. I don’t want to eat it, but I do.  We buy our meat from a rancher that cares for his animals. My husband is a meat and potatoes man and so that is usually how we eat. I feel like this is a doable compromise because the fact is he isn’t giving up meat. I do have guilt that I buy chicken and fish from the store. I know that there is a lot of cruelty in the slaughter houses and that by buying said meat I am promoting it. These inbetween places are sticky places. I pass judgement on myself. What is the point of ideals if you don’t follow them. Living in the midwest surrounded by ranchers and my meat and potatoes guy makes it tough. I feel like if I were single in a more liberal state like Colorado or California it would be so much easier. The food that is sold there is so eco-friendly. Of course I love my husband and don’t plan on being single.  Perhaps it is just a bunch of excuses, in fact, I know it is. Like I said the inbetween spaces are tough. Poop or get off the pot, right? I continue to plod along in the muck until I am resolute enough to climb out. Whatever anyone else does is there business and their right. I am not judging anyone but myself. I need to do what is right in my own conscience and when I don’t I am not being true to myself. I am a toddler at times, not wanting to do the right thing, I just want what I want. I guess I know what I want I just don’t have the hutzpah to do it. Grow up Germaine.

sleepy

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

 

tired tonight

I enjoyed my job today. I came home to a happy little granddaughter so happy to see me.  The  baby recognizes me and lights up when i hold him.  I really have nothing deep to say tonight. I am tired. I have to get up early to work again in the morning. My life is good. My daughter has her struggles but is willing to do the right thing as she figures out just what that is. She has a tough road ahead of her, i hope it all works out…

a woman’s rambling

Wow I had forgotten what having small children around is like. I have my precious grandchildren and daughter here for a visit.  Each of them are amazing and I am enjoying our time together. However, I have gotten spoiled by my sweet companion of silence.  I think the mother’s of small children deserve to be spoiled rotten.  Women give and give and give and then receive so little in return. Even as their children become adults they will give until there is nothing left. If only the men that say they love these women would recognize how the women in their lives are worn so thin.  I am not a man, I don’t have a man’s prospective. I write as a woman, that I get. I know that women do a lot and receive a little in return.  If only men would show their appreciation once in  a while.  Wash a dish, change a diaper, buy some flowers (they are cheap at Walmart) write a poem, buy some chocolate for their better half.  Bring them some coffee or tea in bed. Put gas in the car for them, or even warm up their car on a cold morning.  All these ideas cost little or nothing. What a difference such little blessings can make.  I am lucky to have a man that remembers these little things and it makes me feel loved. Talk is cheap, love is tough,so today remember to send a little blessing someone’s way. A touch, a kind word, listen like you mean it.  In the end, all we really have is each other.

 

30 years ago…

I was 30… years ago. I was holding  my second child, a newborn.  Her name is Harmony and today she is 25, and she is across the room from me holding her newborn baby. Her second child,Dominic. She was my second child as well. A lot has happened in the last 25 years.  She knows so much about raising children but she has yet to experience many of the parts that pull at a mother’s heart. I have been feeling a lot of “pulling” this last week. There is a lot going on with my children. I worry about each of them more than I should. I can’t help it. I am a mommy and that is what I do. 25 years from now I will still worry about Harmony. I will hurt when she hurts. I will laugh at her joys. I get her. We understand each other. She is a great mom but her journey has just begun. Raising small children is a tough job. Loving adult children through the ebbs and flows of life takes a lot from a mother. Of course it is all worth it. My children love me and they let me know it constantly. I am just saying being a mom is the hardest and best job in the world. Here is kudos to you mothers out there. Just keep loving and listening to those babies of yours. Soon they will be having babies of their own. I must say being a grandparent is the best gift your children give you. So Happy Birthday Harmony! Thank you for a wonderful 25 years and enjoy the next 25 years with your babies. I know I will!

 

waaaa

my baby girl left for basic today, tough stuff. this is not the theme i want to go with, just busy being a mommy this week…

hmmm

I am still trying to decide where I want to go with this..too much happening in my life to focus on this site. It is important to me, I just need a little more time.

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