BEING CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR....

So, when you think about it, this latest change in my living situation is actually quite good. I’ll have to pedal a little more for money, as I had forewarned my two clients to find another accountant by December. However,it will also give me a chance to clean office. You can be sure all future clients will be required to pay a retainer fee; gone is the hassle of trying to collect on my invoices once the work is already done!

When the rug rats were living here, it meant preparing three meals a day, every day...and of course the dishes, the multiple loads of laundry, extra cleaning; in short, I had reverted back to chief cook and bottle washer, on call 24 hours a day. Once they were in bed, there was no longer spur of the moment visits to friends. I was housebound until the drive to school at 7:15 AM the next day. Added to that was the constant surveillance of the boys, including their interaction with the dogs. I wasn’t worried about biting at all, but each of the animals weighs more than the 3 rug rats combined, and Smooch especially, being a puppy, is rambunctious enough to cause injury if he gets too excited.

I’m not complaining – having those kids around was worth it all – but now I get to have my cake and eat it too! By moving all this to Mommy’s house, I have my quiet time most of the day, and have become, once more, a paid babysitter without the maid duties, a grandmother instead of a parent.

I was still happily basking in the outcome when my son showed up for his daily visit. His next words told me that I wasn’t the only person contemplating what this change would mean.

“She was wondering if it wouldn’t be easier for you to still keep the boys here at night instead of having to drive to her place each day.”

“What?” I asked. “Why? You’ve moved everything back except the bird, some toys and the rest of the boys ‘clothes. I thought one of her problems was with the dogs being a nuisance? And they’re still here and not going anywhere!” I was shaking my head when I caught his grin. What was going on?

“Well, she did mention that it was nice having the supper ready when she got home....” His grin turned to a laugh as he watched me catch on. He knew how spoiled his lady is, and he knows his mom too; he suspected what my answer would be before framing his question.

“Uh-huh! Supper, and the dishes, and the laundry, and the freedom in the evening....” I laughed with him. “I get it...and the answer is NO! I have put my house back how it was, and I’m quite happy the way things are now. Besides, it’s much easier on the children. They don’t have to travel back and forth twice a day, and I don’t mind the drive. In fact, you can tell her I really think her decision was best for all of us.”

How could I help but smirk a little?

“In that case, I’ll need a big bag.” he said. He stood, but before heading to the clothes dresser, he reached over and ruffled my hair, then bent his six foot plus in two to kiss the top of my head.

“Love ya, Momma!” he said, and there was pride entwined with the affection in his voice. I squeezed his arm.

“Love ya too, my boy” I assured him.

And together we SMILED.

uv from the bush in Quebec.

CHOICES

Choices. We all have to make ‘em as we go along in life. Well, we do until we get either too sick, or to the age where others make them for us. I’m not in either of those places yet.

After the visit with my son this morning I was still extremely upset, mostly because I had to once again refuse to move downstairs. I’ve worked too hard for what I have to give it up easily. His questioning of how I would ever be able to keep up the house without his financial support reeked of blackmail; it sounded like move down or else...! Grrrr!

I vehemently reminded him that the biggest reason I have been doing without so much since the business fiasco is to keep the house as an inheritance for him and his siblings, but that didn’t mean I was willing to bury myself in a basement until it would happen. We both stepped back then – called a truce. As I have mentioned, we are much alike in character.

He offered me another option, but things were too hot for me to make a decision. We hugged as he left. It was a sincere hug. I felt sorry for him, stuck between his mom and his lady. I felt sorry for me, having a dream on a silver platter yanked away by someone who had offered it to me in the first place, someone I love intensely.

I spent the day raging inside. A necessary waste of time and energy. When I got it out of my system, I was able to consider his second suggestion. Yes, I could go to his lady’s house and stay with the rug rats while she worked. I used to do it before the separation for free, and now he was offering to pay me well enough. His cousin on his dad’s side, a lad I know and like, is interested in renting the apartment when my grandson relocates into a house, so it would take care of the revenue I expected to lose on that front. The room upstairs where the rug rats were sleeping could be let out too, as long as the tenant likes dogs. I would still be free enough to find one or two clients for extra income. All in all, it would make more sense financially, and emotionally, than travelling to the city each day. Most important, I would be spending time with my rug rats.

A long walk outside with the doggies in my snow-filled bush, a splendid sight under the full moon, put things into perspective. My pride was hurt, but it would heal. My family’s health was at stake. No contest really.

I contacted my son tonight and told him we had a deal for his second option. I also sent a text to his lady to tell her everything was okay; we’ll make this work. I’m sure my other kids breathed a sigh of relief when they received their updates too.

The storm is over, the family intact, and we’re SMILING!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE FIRST STEP

My son called this morning. He and his lady were taking the rug rats to the ‘Musée des Enfants’, a museum especially for children, then he wondered if he could stop by on the way back home to pick up Kiti, their cat; they have a mice problem.

Our very short conversation was stilted, to say the least. I was already shaking my head as I hung up the phone. My family is very close; I don’t want to lose that, no matter what. There was some more thinking to do. I was looking forward to seeing the boys, and my son, but am not quite ready to face his lady yet. I’m not sure I could keep my thoughts to myself, and none of them are conductive to future reconciliation.

In step the siblings. There was a conversation between the brothers, and I suspect that a warning was issued. Go see Mom alone – you need to talk this out. A text came in around noon, with a picture of my youngest rug rat playing in the museum, and a note that the boys were having a great time. Daddy added that he would only see me tomorrow, and was planning on spending the day here, if that was okay. She’ll be sleeping after her midnight shift. Relief...and of course it is okay!

I know his lady asked him to send the next text. Would I please feed the bird (who was also left behind) before it croaked?

“Done”, I replied. “Both the bird and the cat, everyday. I also have the Galaxy station on the Nature channel, so the bird can hear other birds. He likes it, is answering the calls.” I signed it with my usual signature ...he answered in kind.

It was a huge SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD.

I would really prefer not to have too many more weekends like this one...my weekend, at least.

There was too darned much thinking, reminiscing, searching, and mentally kicking my own butt. How in hell, at my age, so you justify being so gullible? Within the past 18 months, three betrayals – a business partner/friend; another person so close to me I’d have put my hand in fire before believing she could do what she did; and now family? You fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. What about the third time? I guess it would be: pay attention, dimwit!!

We’re back to the drawing board where my future is concerned. I had started putting things together for writing, and will keep at it, although it will not be so easy now. My 2 remaining clients had been warned that I was finished with them by December. I guess my biggest decision will be if I want to continue in accounting (not really) or work at something else. I know there is no time for dawdling, but I decided to take the two days to lick my wounds...to eventually remind myself that everything happens for a reason.

My grandson will probably be moving from his apartment too at the end of the year, so I not only need to find work, but also another tenant....or sell the house. All these thoughts flitting through my mind as I finally, today, began packing up clothes and toys belonging to my rug rats. I haven’t heard a thing from that branch since I drove back with my son from the airport on Friday. He confirmed that his lady had changed her mind about all our plans. I, in turn, confirmed that there was no way I would be moving into the downstairs apartment to leave her the house. I dropped him off, hoping that he is not setting himself up to get hurt a third time. He is much like his mother. We tend to give people the benefit of doubt. And pay for it often.

It was a beautiful day weather-wise. The doggies and I went out into the sun and snow, then came back in and lit our fires, put on music, and fell into our former routine of peace and quiet. They looked for the boys and Wigi. For the moment, the cat and bird are still here to distract them a little. That parakeet can imitate each of the rug rats’ laugh perfectly!

I miss them like crazy, but it’s not really about me, is it? It’s about my 3 boys who are sure to be happy that daddy is home, that mommy is there too; that their life as a family has returned to normal.

That’s what is most important, and that’s the thought that helps me SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A VIPER IN MY BOSOM?

My son is coming home today...but to which home?

I could tell his lady had changed her mind. She stays here only long enough for supper, baths and putting the boys to bed. They are not yet sleeping and she is out the door, heading back to the house that was supposed to be sold, but which she has lately been making noise about renovating.

Before my son left to work out west, her plans were all about making over my downstairs apartment into bedrooms and a playroom for the rug rats. It was to take place immediately when the apartment is vacated by my oldest grandson, who is finalizing the purchase of his first house. She had hoped to have it done before Christmas, and it was part of the conversation at each meal. Suddenly she stopped talking about it altogether.

Just as suddenly, conversations with my son were held only from her place....alone. Any news from him I received through her. In fact, I managed to talk him once, and I forced the issue because of a tax installment on the house; I wanted to make sure it was okay to debit his account, as had been in our agreement.

I know my son. He has never liked confrontation, even as a little fellow. I suspected that her speeches about joining us here, home for her being wherever he lived, had outlived their usefulness. I was sure that he felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, and was avoiding talking to me because he would have to renege on his promise to keep up my house expenses so that I could devote myself fulltime to taking care of the rug rats... to give up my clients and write. He would be looking for an alternative solution.

My daughter is not as patient as I am. When I told her that the DIL had moved all her clothes back to her place, and was now talking about taking back the cat and my grandson’s little dog, she got in touch with her brother and asked what was going on. It seems his lady has come up with the alternative, and is thinking of asking me to move out of my house; suggesting that I relocate into the downstairs apartment. I would still be on hand to take care of the boys, but would be out from under her feet. This in spite of my having said more than once how dark it is down there – how it is okay for bedrooms but that , personally, I would find it depressing without huge windows letting in the sun and with views of my trees. I can’t even fathom trying to fit my huge, comfy bed into any of the small rooms in the apartment...or any of my furniture in fact. Then there is my much loved Jacuzzi. It does explain why there has been no further discussion about how to set up the boys’ bedrooms down there.

It’s out of the question, of course. I expect that my son and his family will take up where they left off before the separation, except that the house is no longer his – he had it changed to her name when the event happened. And the rug rats??
I just don’t know...and don’t want to think about it right now.

I have a feeling that the conversation on our drive back from the airport is going to be, for lack of a better word, interesting.

(to be continued)

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

CONTINENTAL BREAKFAST, ANYONE?

I’m not sure I should mention this – the last time someone wrote about it, it became a sort of epidemic on Blogit.

Ah – I’ll take the chance. Water problems...again.

I had finished vacuuming all the rooms; the pail was beside the sink waiting to be filled, then my wounded foot gave me an excuse to take a break – have a coffee before wielding the mop. My grandson appeared on the stairs leading up from his apartment.

“Mémère, there’s water running between the walls in my bathroom.”

What??!

Sure enough, upon verification, there is a pipe leaking in there...for how long now, I have no idea. The wall is showing some damage. Fred’s little girlfriend had not noticed it during his absence. One can’t help but notice it now!

I called the friend who repairs such things on a weekend. Two hours later, when he was able to come around, it was too late to rent the tools needed. So water is turned off until today, Sunday, when he has promised to return with the necessary material and take care of the problem. I’ll call Mommy to warn her that maybe she should bring the boys back after it is fixed. Having 3 little rug rats and no water is NOT an ideal situation.

Fortunately I had already showered, so had no hesitation in getting dressed and heading out for the planned visit with Cubans. The meal, their special espresso, the laughter was all good, and the dim lighting when I arrived home helped me to ignore the still unwashed floors. Anyway – they’re not going anywhere – and my foot was swollen again, so.....

But this morning.... wouldn’t you know it? My large container on the water cooler is empty. Fortunately the doggies’ pails are full, but my coffee maker is only good for another cup.

There is, however, a form of liquid in that nice bottle of red wine my hostess handed me as I was leaving her house last night. I also have some good cheese, huge red grapes, and a couple of croissants left in the breadbox. Is it ever too early for a continental breakfast?

Well, well. You know how I believe in everything happening for a reason? There we go!

Drink up me hearties, Yo Ho...Now if Johnny Depp could join me, he would find me SMILING!!

Sending it out to y’all. Cheers!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

CURIOUS

I had a ham roasting slowly in the oven, had dug out my favorite recipe for scalloped potatoes, and there was butternut squash in the fridge waiting to be brushed, then baked, with a little garlic and delicious Quebec maple syrup. I knew there was enough ice cream for dessert and it’s a favorite for all 3 rug rats.

Mommy finishes her graveyard shift on Friday morning, and picks the boys up from school and daycare a little earlier on that day. To avoid the clamouring for snacking on arrival, and therefore spoiling appetites for the evening meal, my habit is to have supper ready when they walk in the door. During the week that is around 5 PM; on Fridays it’s an hour earlier.

I didn’t hear the text message come in. It had been sent at 2:30, probably when Mommy got out of bed. She was going for groceries, she wrote, then she and the boys would be spending the weekend at her house; they’ll be back on Sunday afternoon.

Hmmm. Okay. A couple of days of quiet would do no harm, but it would have been nice to have some advance notice. I wondered if it had been decided on the spur of the moment.

Since my son left for work out west, his lady has not slept here once. It makes sense during the week; her own place (which is eventually supposed to be sold) is closer to her work place and the school attended by the rug rats. She gets off work at 7 AM, goes to bed, then is awake in time to pick the boys up and bring them here for supper, homework, baths and bed. About 8 PM she leaves for her place again, usually skypes with my son, has a lie-down before returning to work at 11 PM. I have the monitor by my bed to hear the boys during the night, and do the breakfast, dress and drive to school in the mornings. It works out fine.

She had activities on the first two weekends that my son has been away. I was at home anyway, so the boys stayed here. She joined us during the day, but slept over at her own place after whatever outing she was attending. On the 3rd weekend, she was not busy the Saturday, so decided that she & the boys would again sleep at her house. And now this. My son will be home for his ten day break next Friday. I’m curious to see what sleeping arrangements will take place during his stay.

In the meantime, it is a luxury to be able to wash the floors with only the animals to chase out of the way! My oldest grandson arrived last night; he and his little girlfriend are still sleeping, so I’ll wait until noon before getting out the central-vac, turning my Ozzy tunes on full blast, and limp around with my mop.

Tonight I am invited for the evening with my Cuban friends – always a fun time with music, wine, food and laughter!

Yep! I’m SMILING, and sending them out to y’all! Hope they share your weekend!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.