obviously i suck at keeping up with this whole bloggy thing.
i am very often reminded, by myself, by others, by circumstance, that i am a snob.  I am.  I have gone from single mother of 3 on welfare to world-trottin' wife of a diplomat.  I have forgotten what it is to hand carry home a paycheck for a part-time job at minimum wage.  I have forgotten what it means to truly wonder how the hell I'm going to survive til that next check.  I have too many clothes, too many shoes...too much everything except respect.  I have forgotten to respect things like plates. yes. plates.  Do you have the same plates you had 10 years ago? 20? 30?  How long did your mom or grandparents have their plates.  Remember how we used to get in trouble if we clinked uhm?  yeah, that's because they respected them. they cherished them.  We,  I,  live in this very shallow world where things are too easily replaced and not nearly appreciated enough.  But not just plates.  (ours, by the way, are missing a few, chipped and/or cracked) but casual shoes. Not just my collection of "OH MY GOD I WANT THOSE!" shoes but daily wear shoes that are supposed to support the foot.  Or at least feel better on the back than 4 inch heels.  I am literally so disgusted with this all that my mind boggles and i lose track in thought at my selfishness, arrogance, lack of respect.

This really, is not just about those inanimate things that we tell ourselves, lie to ourselves!, that we love and can't live without.  In honesty it all started,  well probably so long ago with the first death in my family whilst away,  but most recently because of a stupid question on Facebook by Parenting.com.  "Confession time: What is your biggest pet peeve with your kid's grandparents?"
Got my knickers in a straight pinch after reading people's bitches.   I wrote them a private message and if they write me back I'll ask them to send it to me so i can post it here.  But all-in-all i hate how lil people respect their children's grandparents.  I feel (opinion, not fact) we tend to forget they come from a different time and more often than not do what they do, whether we like what they do or not, out of love.   This came at a time when i think about my 80 year old Mom, whom i love so much, though i show it too poorly.  It makes me think of my Aunt Eva who has alzheimer's and is the last in the Carroll line in her generation.  And of all the information, stories, everything we will lose when she is gone.  It makes me think of all the funerals i should have attended. Uncles Bob, Russell, Ed. Aunt Mildred. My Dear Girl, Renee.  My Mona's dad.  Most recently, just yesterday, my dad from high school, Warren, died.  That funeral, too, i will miss.   I know i am just feeling the usual remorse of, "just one more...."  
                                  (i now hear Les Mis in my head.  "One Day More", "I Dreamed a Dream", "Empty Chairs and Empty Tables".   All songs of remembrance, of loves, of loss)
                        
                                   so to read about these people's pet peeves about grandparents.  ugh.  distasteful. rude. selfish.   I believe, you see, in lying to ~if needed~ our children.  Instead of saying to a child, because Grandma or Grandpa is a drunk, an addict, abusive, in treatment, in their own world, out of their mind, insane, institutionalized....,  why not be vague and tell them, "it's not that Grandma/pa doesn't love you. It's that they don't know how to love and take care of themselves.  they need to get healthy first.  You can still love them if you are away from them".   Tell them the whole truth later, if the want it. If they need it.  Don't shatter their dreams young.

Well, i just don't know anymore.  I'm just rather full of hurt and anger and most certainly regret.  And apparently i'm being horribly hormonal and just bitchy.  *sigh*

      Though i finally fond a lil part time job and that's nice I feel like i'm floundering.  It's been a rough time here.  I've made no friends that i hang out with, none.  I have not kept up with the house as hoped and haven't gotten things moved home as needed, only so much fits in the van each visit.
      But, just to vent about the recent and present, i get tired of being the subject of other people's jokes (well, one person who does it continuously regardless of the fact that it makes me feel humilatiated, hurt, and embarrassed~to which i, more often than not,  get, "it's not my fault you didn't think it was funny."   And then i get a barrage of balderdash if i defend myself because i am, "too sensitive" and need to "relax".   As if i even know how to anymore.
       Now, as i try to send my child to school, hair unbrushed as there is refusal, blatant unwillingness, to pick up the damn brush and brush the freaking hair !!!!!!!!   To my right in the dining room is a bathrobe, 2 computers, books, Boy Scout stuff, headphones, writing utensils, chairs pulled ot, and food particles left on the table all because no one will clean up their damn messes here.  I am the housekeeper/servant to a spoiled lot who will not only leave the mess, they will complain if they can't find their crap because i put it away properly or into a dogbox, AND I get the chewing out for the mess even though NONE of it is mine.
      No one wants to pick up, no one wants to push in a chair, no one wants to turn off a light switch, do a dish, get their own pants from the dryer, find a piece of cheese, put water in their cup........because they have a live in servant whose job it is to wait on them without question, without finding fault, with zero complaint as their blatantly at times drop crumbes and leave messes in their wake.  
         ................
I am done venting now.   Because the venting is to no avail.  No one will do their part, oh maybe for 1 afternoon, but not sincerely.   And I'll tuck in the chair, only so i don't run into it.  I'll turn off the lights, I'll clean up some of the mess....only so they can come home tonight and build a new one on top of the old one and leave it, too, for me to clean up.