Call me if you need me, Cass. I'll leave the ringer on.

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Easy passing to her, Cass.

How tall is he, Hec?

I think he's about 4' 4" now, though he's sprouted up so much in the last year that it's hard to keep track.

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Hugses for Cass, d, and everyone else who wants 'em.

Sammie just wrestled a magenta mouse and then stared at it. Then cried out to me, picked it up with her mouth, and brought it closer to me and dropped it, then looked at me again.

Too cute. I had to reach out and skritch her head and around the neck.

Damn cats know what buttons to push, don't they?

Wasn't very successful button-pushing on Sammie's part: What she wanted most was for you to pick the mouse up and throw it for her. It's like fetch only with less slobber.

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I also send good wishes to all of those (and their families) who are in need of them.

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Andi, that's what I told Daniel in LJ. That's one of TC's favorite games, he'll dribble a ball or wrestle a mouse up to your feet and wait for you to toss it so he can chase it. Non-slobbery fetch is a good description. Of course, he often gets distracted and wanders off in the middle of a fetch...

Cass, I'm thinking of you, her, and your family. vw, you too. Candle is lit.

Hec, I look at your bookshelves and smile. If one of those Clean Sweep types were to threaten my books, I'd commit a capital crime. They're free to have at my closets though. And DH's office, they'd have free rein in there, too.

I haven't mentioned it here, but I think a lot of you know that our younger son moved back in with DH and me in the spring. He's integrated well, he's working on establishing a home-based business and trying to get his life back together. I'd forgotten, though, how very nice it was when it was just DH and me, until he went down last week to help his brother pack up some stuff.

Yep, our elder son will be moving back in with us too, probably this week, and hopefully short-term, because he'll be sleeping on the living room couch, with all his belongings in storage.

This parent stuff is hard.

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I covet JZ's hat. Just in case you were wondering.

{{{Cass}}}

{{{vw}}}

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I covet JZ's hat. Just in case you were wondering.

I'm sure she'll cherish the validation. It was that very hat that got her the offer to model corsets for Dark Garden at the Dickens Fair.

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Cass, I'm so sorry. I feel like I keep saying the same thing over and over.

vw, I'm sorry you've had bad news. You'll let us know what's going on with your grandma when you find out?

You might think - but partly that's the shoe size (5 already). Actually he's pretty much the same size as other 9 y.o.s in his class.

Ben's wearing a 7. I think I could wear his shoes, but he keeps them about as nice as you'd expect a 9 year old boy to keep them. He'll be 10 at the end of this month, so I think he has several months on Emmett, which is still a big deal size-wise at this age.

I think he's about 4' 4" now, though he's sprouted up so much in the last year that it's hard to keep track.

He's close enough to 5' and 100lbs that I've forgotten the real measurements, as well (I suspect he's an inch shorter and 5lbs less, but I'd have to check). I know when I hug him, I feel like I'm hugging an adult (or possibly a tree) rather than a child. He's not even the tallest boy in his class. There are at least two who are taller than he is.

Yep, our elder son will be moving back in with us too, probably this week, and hopefully short-term, because he'll be sleeping on the living room couch, with all his belongings in storage.

{{{Beverly}}} Maybe you could start over-doting on them, and they'll decide to move out--together.

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{{{Cass}}} I'm so sorry.

You'll let us know what's going on with your grandma when you find out?

Yes. My brother is going to visit her this afternoon, so hopefully we'll know more then. I hate feeling so helpless and far away.

Timelies. It's back to work today. Playtime is over. Wish I had more to show for it.

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Thank you all. For everything. The support. the shoulders, the punctuation, the advice, the gentle reminders. Mostly for being here for me. I am so very lucky and grateful that I found the Buffistas and especially the Bitches. And that you all found (or, as the case often is, created) this community.

[Substantially x-posted from LJ but not a straight cut-and-paste. It’s the Director’s Cut of x-posts.]

At 10 o'clock, I came into the nephlet’s (technically guest) ((but more importantly, computered and interbunnied up)) bedroom and read some really nice things you’ve all been kind enough to say. They made me feel better and less alone.

It started me thinking and sometimes I think best while tapping out the keys. That way my brain can just say everything now and then I can go back, read it and realize what I meant or was feeling.

I wrote for an hour, was done for the time, and breathed that sigh of relief you get when you do something that was important and you did it well. A soul-baring post that was painfully honest, though not in a bellybutton way.

It was, in part, what feels like an honest look at what is going on and how it is affecting me and others and what I want from the whole experience. I actually realized reading it that much of it would be worth reading at my grandma's eventual memorial service. And then just writing out some of the drama of the day *and* minutia of the day so I could set the memory and get some feedback, alternatives or just

I reread it, shuffled two paragraphs, edited maybe three sentences and went to clicky the post button. The power went out in the house. The whole neighborhood was bzzzzzz-free according to eyewitness reports of me looking out of a couple of windows. I would have walked outside but it’s raining in a way that makes me want to collect two of whatever critter I see next. And with the power out, the baby moniter base unit is stupid and only runs off of an outlet.

I mentally pictured where I thought a flashlight I might have seen earlier was, actually found it too. I lit a couple of candles that I found so we could see and hopefully calm my grandma if she woke up - as the dark is just no longer her friend. I went out to the couch in the Great Room to wake my mom and ask if the morphine pump was running off of batteries or an outlet (Go team batteries in damned important medical equipment! And fuck team outlet only and no battery backup in the baby monitor), calmed mom down since she's terrified (understandably) that being woken up means something is wronger with her mother and convinced her to go back to sleep. I grabbed a couple more candles, lit their sparkly waxy hearts, and then I just sat down and waited.

Any minute I expected the lights to come back.

Grandma slept though most of it but was far more agitated than she had been today. I didn't have quite enough candle light to read or write, so I reclined the chair and tried to just listen to her breathing and talk her through any fear or confusion or pain. She was mostly just mumbling and wasn't even really awake. I was considering getting the Ativan in case she became too disoriented and panicky. But the dark nap imp lured me too and I felt the siren of teh snooze. I dozed just enough that it was a Violent Jerk Back to Awake each time when she starting talking or crying.

Then, after an hour and a half blackout, someone musta said that, “there be light.” And there was. And it was good.

There was however no music because I did not yet know how to mess with the satellite radio. Grandma is calmer when the soft light is on and the Sunny station is playing on the radio. One down, one to go.

I heard mom rustling (it is just the most telling thing about our society that actual silence feels askew? A house reawakening to electricity is loud.) so I went out to check on her and report on grandma. I said she was acting agitated so I was going to grab the Ativan from the fridge in case she woke up and we needed it to help her. She pooh-poohed (Is this an AA Milne thing?) the idea. So we just went into gram's room. (continued...)

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