The G-Ma Life #3

This is a recollection from my old blog. It's a whole mindset. It was the beginning of the end. It's the prerequisite for G-Ma Life.

Blabberings by ~Babz~ at 1:57 PM | 

Hey Kids,

I've been the "Booty on Duty" these days, meaning that I've been pulling G-Ma duty so my DIL can work. My God, I see why women stop having children, well, most of the time, at least by their early 30's. I mean it's exhausting, this up every 3 hours for feeding time thingy.

(I do so apologize to any one that considers me a friend as I have certainly been less than. On top of all this, I am working diligently on a secret piece which I am quite consumed by. Please forgive???)

Now, Jaxon, my lil "*Bumby" as I call him, is a world famous grunter. Yep, he grunts and stretches, stretches and grunts, (loudly)all daggone night. So much so that I rarely sleep the entire time. Yes, it's a clear cut case of mixed emotions, this babysitting business, I tell you. It's similar to your MIL going over a cliff in your new Ferrari. But if the truth were known, I can't think of a better time in my life than the time spent with my lil Bumby Boo.

Now, I do realize that we all think our children and then our grandchildren are the cutest of them all, out weighing all pageant contestants and we convince ourselves of such. I can remember other mothers touting how cute their babies were as I thought to myself,

"OMG bitch your child looks like an alien outcast. He's got a flat head not to mention he looks an awful lot like you and you're as ugly as a poodles ass. Sorry!!!"

Of course, in my youth, I thought my babies were the shit too. But now I can look back and see decisively and I shall put this as delicately as I can, you know just in case they read this; "They were all pretty...ugly, mwahahaha!!"

I can also view them, my sons at least, in an unbiased form, meaning that although they've all grown in to fairly good looking men, they're not the best looking fellas to walk down the Pike. Far from ugly though, each and every one of them shines, if nothing else because they are all charmers, especially the youngest who can charm the panties off a Princess.<--(A Babzism)

The point is, that in my wise ass wisdom (I can't call it maturity as I don't think I've grown up yet?) I suppose I am able to decipher "the good, the bad and the ugly," in my loving family. (Now, don't get it F'd up. I can also look in the mirror at myself and realize that, although my Mama raised no fool, I'm nothing to write home about nor am I the sharpest peanut in the turd)<--(Another Babzism)

So, without further ado, I'll say that , Jaxon aka Bumby (Bill's son) and Austen aka Lil' Man(Waylon's son)are in the running to not only break my heart but the hearts of many women to come who'll follow in my footsteps. God help them!!!

Unfortunately, Lil' Man lives in Iowa and I'm here in N.Y. What a charmer he is though, I mean he and Jaxs will take the world by storm! So, in getting back to the point, I do so firmly believe that Jaxon has got to be the most pleasant child I've ever come across. And I am enjoying him immensely.

A perfect day, in my perfect world would be to have all my grandbabies by my side. Until then, I guess I'll simply keep them all in my prayers and continue to ask God to place His Angels around them all.

In further News...I was just on Facebook and I quote myself as it is the sum of my parts as of late;

OMG Tami, I'm so old these days, I've been farting dust and crapping cobwebs. But I'm a trooper, I just tuck my tits back into my belt and keep on keepin' on!

If you're my age, you'll feel my pain, lol! Then, my oldest son, Lee had this question on his status;

1 question, 1 chance, 1 honest answer. You can ask me 1 question (to my inbox) Any question, anything no matter how crazy, dirty or wrong it is. No catch. You'll get the answer within 48 hours! But I dare you to post this on your status an see what people ask you
Email Babz Here

I thought it a neat question and I afford this opportunity to you, any and all to ask me this question. Yes, I do believe I have a false sense of popularity, ahem hahaha!!!

*Bumby is short for "My Lil' Bumblebee," and here's why; He's beginning to get chubby like a lil bumblebee but they say that bumblebees should not be able to fly because they are aerodynamically a mess. Perseverance and they fly!

"It is a myth that bumblebees shouldn't be able to fly... that they can't fly, well, that's a fallacy since you can watch them fly with your own eyes. Interesting stories behind the myth though.

Since the myth became propogated by the media and general public with no facts to support it, for the longest time people just couldn't understand how these big fat aerodynamically impaired insects could get off the ground using such proportionally itty-bitty wings. Finally, scientists realized that there was much more involved, and in the past few years much headway has been made in understanding the bumblebee flight phenomenon. It has something to do with the way they use their wings and the lift generated by vortices that swirl behind the moving wing edges.

Here is a neat link about a researcher who utilized lasers to study bee flight:http://physicsweb.org/article/news/5/10/9

An interesting thread discussing the origin of the myth:http://www.math.niu.edu/~rusin/known-math/98/bees

Brief description of insect flight and how lift helps them fly:http://www.howstuffworks.com/news-item223.htm"

Source; Dr. Kirsten

The Middle Wife

Another cute analogy. Ya know...something to make ya smile...

Blabberings by ~Babz~ at 1:09 PM |

When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sessions with my students. It helps them get over shyness and usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they're welcome.

Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater.

She holds up a snapshot of an infant. 'This is Luke, my baby brother, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday.'

'First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord.'

She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me. The kids are watching her in amazement.

'Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts saying and going, 'Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!' Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans. 'She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!' (Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.)

'My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed like this.' (Then Erica lies down with her back against the wall.)

'And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!' (This kid has her legs spread with her little hands miming water flowing away. It was too much!)

'Then the middle wife starts saying 'push, push,' and 'breathe, breathe. They started counting, but never even got past ten. Then, all of a sudden, out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff that they all said it was from Mom's play-center, (placenta) so there must be a lot of toys inside there. When he got out, the middle wife spanked him for crawling up in there.'

Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I'm sure I applauded the loudest.. Ever since then, when it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another 'Middle Wife' comes along.

Now you have two choices...laugh and close this page or pass this along to someone else to spread the laughs.. I know what I did!!!

Live every day as if it is your LAST chance to make someone happy!

Live/Love/Laugh

How the hell am I, you've asked?  I'm still kickin' like a roach in the corner! 

Well, I'm back, I'm black...NO WAIT that part got away from me, (over enthusiasm)whoops.

For real though, after two heart attacks on June 26th, 2013, I find myself realizing I don't have that much time left. (But who does?)And OMG do I have a shit load of stuff to still say. It's not all good. It's not all bad. But I think you'll find I tell it like it is, always have. 

Some may say that, a gal like me that shoots from the hip, well, not everyone is comfortable with someone like myself. I can/have been brutally blunt now and again. This is not an apology, just so we're clear. 

The thing is though, I've come by the notion that we don't live forever, unlike popular belief. When the shit gets real, when you're staring your very own snuff film in the face, it tends to make things, possibly more amplified. You tend to sit up and pay attention. I don't know maybe even the colors are more brilliant. (Coulda been the drugs???)

More importantly, because we do think we have plenty of time here on God's green earth, before our number comes up, we tend to waste time on the dumb shit, things that are not really important. And we sure as hell do not say things that need to be said. Unfortunately, even the simplest of terms are often not divulged. It's a certainly sad commentary on life and how we treat each other.

We walk around with big feeling attitudes, maybe even a sense of entitlement when it comes to expressing our true emotions. Laying it on the line. We behave as if everyone but ourselves is all knowing, all seeing mind readers. We act as if they all have a crystal ball stuffed up their ass and can read our emotions. But they don't and they can't.

I truly believe that more often than not, we all need to hear that we are loved and appreciated. We need to be told, when we've gone that extra mile and the war paint is just right that "Yea, you still look good and ya still trip my trigger." (Even if your boobs are tucked neatly into your belt like mine).

Mama may need to be reminded that you still think about her, even through a hectic day at college. She most assuredly would want to hear your memories of the things only a mother can do for you like that time she cleaned up your projectile puke without even a wince and later brought you your now clean and cozy "Blankie" along with warm chicken noodle soup.

Dutiful Dad, hah! Remember when you thought he was an idiot until you matured and finally got it? Like the time you were just ten minutes late for your curfew of 10:30p.m. and he meted out that two weeks restriction? Just a few short years later, you savored his example in that lesson, "Well, next time you'll be ten minutes early, right?" You visibly nodded your head at Dad as you walked through the door at work, glancing at the clock, 'ten minutes early'and your boss just happened to be there and took notice.

Sadly, Dad's lesson was now just a memory. He wasn't actually, at work, to nod to in solidarity. Mom was always there to tuck you in and to pick up the broken pieces when that first love broke your heart. Where'd the time go?

Live/Love/Laugh

Say what needs to be said. Say it out loud. Say it with fervor.

That's where my head is at these days. I want to plant so many seeds before it's too late. And...it's almost too late!!