Working on Labor Day As Always

Technically Lily is my granddaughter/daughter, Blanca is my grandbaby, Sabrina is my daughter, now a high school senior.  Well, all three are in high school.  The two on the left I've known since the day they were born, which is a unique blessing in our family.  I met my own daughter, Sabrina, at age 10, the weirdness of that statement rings in my ear.

As the majority of my children are now grown, I've become even more circumspect in my writing, completely omitting mention, sometimes for years, of several of them, as they deal with tremendous crisis situations, game changers in their lives, some great stuff, and some scary stuff.  But it is their stuff.

I'll have a happy announcement next week, or I'll be blindsided by something another week, there'll be unexpected joy, or a painful gut punch coming up, there's just no way around it.  I'll run squalling to my mom, Sarah or Yolie at times, or other events will make me giddy with joy.  Sometimes it all happens within the span of a single day, aging me rapidly, making me reach for the Geritol.

The details can be unimportant, bottom lines are what we take with us, and overall I'm starting to need a play book my own self just to keep up with everything and everyone. Some days I'm wide-eyed with shock, or stumped by my own nervous touchiness or external twitching, or stunned into complete abject sadness - not always easy for a post-menopausal woman, but I've learned to cope, to divert my tensions, moods, fears, or even ecstatic feelings, into plowing up new garden beds or weeding like an automaton, as I mentally process everything.

Suffice it to say, I've had some ups and downs via some sons-in-law, the starting rotation has changed.  I might quietly introduce some new characters along the way eventually. Or I might not.

And back on the home front - soccer season twice a year, six solid months of very busy soccer schedules.

Or I sit here trying to manage money, or to blog, there's always someone sitting with me for some reason or another.

Right this minute my view is of an almost 17 year old Allen who's already dogging me about what's for supper tonight.  He just woke up.  Handsome smile, or what?
 
There've been times when I'd have 15 players on five different soccer teams, cleats and shin guards everywhere, not always enough time to get team jerseys washed and dried between their many games, we've been known to be hang a numbered jersey out the van window as we've driven down the highway, allowing it a 55 mph air drying event, we've swapped shin guards mid-game, and I've spun around quickly on the fields trying to watch several games at once.  I cheer loudly, my kids feel and hear my presence at every single game.

My 24th grandchild is due next month, I'm also trying to stretch my time schedule to fit in my grandchildren's events, my oldest grandchild is 17 years old, the youngest is a week old.  I could conceivably by a great-grandma before I know it.  Ouch.

My oldest child Sarah will be 39 in November, and my youngest one, Tabby, will be ten the next day after Sarah's birthday, my oldest and my youngest are 29 years and one day apart in age, thus making Tabby likely the only kid on earth with so many nieces and nephews well before her tenth birthday.

If that weren't all enough, I've run this household alone, no outside help at all, mainly because there wasn't any money available for that, I'd have loved to have had some help, but oh well.  I run pell mell through my days, sweating profusely more often than not as my speed is high-intensity driven.

I'd had a seriously leaky faucet in the kitchen, now I am wondering if that too had caused my power bill to spike?  The well pump had kept running as had one of the hot water heaters.  I'd held off calling a plumber due to not having cash, it turned out to be a $70 repair job, completed now, making me kick myself for not having done it earlier.

I couldn't find my phone yesterday.  Tabby had it, photographing her cuddly Princess.

I'm extraordinarily happy that I've had a ring side seat via my TV for Chipper Jones' entire amazing
career, how incredible was last night's walk-off home run?  This guy wrote a hilarious post about it, the same guy I'd been reading about yesterday afternoon, when I allowed myself the luxury after church of sitting in the living room reading John Smoltz's very excellent book where he'd railed against this very same AJC sportswriter.

I'm very soon getting to attend my third Turner Field game of the season, courtesy of my amazing son, Daniel.  Again, being his Mom has blessed me beyond belief - not just for the ball games, duh - but for his stellar character and his love for our family.  They just don't make many men like this one, of that I am fairly positive.

I've been teaching CW how to drive my stick-shift truck,  Call me prejudiced, but I think a man who can't drive a stick isn't much of a man at all, this is becoming a lost art.

Saray, her husband T, and their three children, Heidi, Gianni and Isaac are all at the beach for this weekend, sending me happy pictures.