Dementia, Schementia

NOTE:
I find it hard sometimes to know what I should and should not write here. I think the main reason for my sporadic posting (other than a lack of time) is what I want to write about - I feel I shouldn't.

“God have mercy on the man who doubts what he’s sure of” – Bruce Springsteen

Last fall, The Nanny filed a lawsuit against The Grandma, accusing her of a lot of things. Things I know to be false. Money and a jilted lover are involved. When those two things meet, nothing good can come of it.

My emotions have gone to all extremes over this whole issue, and I have felt like a protector, advocate, victim and vigilante many times over the past several months. Through it all, I have constantly felt like I was in the middle.

I was driving Robby home from school one day and I was telling him that yes, Mamas do always come back and they do always love their kids no matter what. I felt like I was only telling him a partial truth. I will always come back, Robby. I will always love you, no matter what, Robby. As for every Mama? Well, I know that isn’t true for every Mama, Robby.

Sometimes Mamas don’t come back.
Sometimes Mamas don’t ever love their kids.

I know first hand it’s a hurtful thing when a Mama doesn’t come back. My Mama left and didn’t come back for two years. It’s a thing I don’t want Robby ever to feel. And while it’s a hurtful thing, it is yet a forgivable thing for me. Mama’s not ever loving their kids is where I struggle with forgiveness. This is strange, since I can look at the circumstances of the Mama and see where she was left behind, see her disease and see her pain when she did the leaving. I cannot see any of those things when I look at her Mama. She never loved her child. I can think of nothing that factors into why or how this could ever happen.

If a Mama never loves her child, is it possible for her to love her grandchildren? Sometimes I say yes, but I really think the answer is no. Maybe all the “love” a Mama gives her grandchild is just a way to get back at her own child; put another spike through that little broken heart.

Even if illness plays a part in recent history, it cannot explain 67 years of slowly killing a soul. Any Mama capable of that deserves no part in knowing the joys of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

This may sound harsh, cold and bitter. Maybe it is. I can tell you that mine is soul in pain. I have been left again. All the feelings, given and received, of love and the belief that this love shared was unconditional, all seem false to me now. I know I love her still. I know I loved her with all my heart then and my love was unconditional then. Today, the conditions have changed. I don’t have another forgiveness in me.

Facebook Manifesto

Facebook, in concept is a good idea. It lets you stay in touch with people in your life with quick one or two lines every day (or hour for some) or give someone a “super poke” just to let them know you are thinking about them. In today’s rush and hurry world, it is nice to get at least some connection with the people you care about. Even if you don’t always have time for a long email, phone call or lunch.

As with all other things in life, moderation for facebook is key. I hope this, my Facebook Manifesto, can offer some guidelines. You can slip every once in awhile, but if you have slid down that slippery facebook slope, hopefully you can recognize yourself here and get the help you so desperately need.

If you have over 100 friends on Facebook, you don’t look popular. You look pathetic.

If you update your status more than twice a day, you need to ask yourself two questions.
1. Is this really vital information I am sharing with friends?
2. What can I do in my life to get the connection I crave with people without being this annoying and alone?

If you troll other people’s status updates just for a chance to comment with your witty retort, you need another hobby, or outlet for this creativity.

If you are in a relationship and use facebook to “chat”, email, “hug”, “throw a banana at”, send a “kidnap request” and generally show others how charming you can be when sitting behind a keyboard, you need to assess your relationship and figure out what you are not getting there that is driving you to this behavior.

If you are not in a relationship and do all of these things, you need to know you will never find one of any sustenance on facebook. Move out of your parent’s basement for chrissakes already.

If you are in a relationship with someone who practices this unhealthy facebook behavior, you need to ask yourself two questions.

1. Am I treating them the way I want to be treated? If the answer is no, then you can’t go onto to question 2 until it is yes.

2. Why am I in a relationship with someone who would rather put all their energy into their facebook “friends”?

Socks

OK, what is the deal on socks? I cannot find a decent selection of socks to fit my kid. I finally found some today (at KMart of all places!) that fit him. They are white crew socks, package of seven pairs for $5.99. What if he needs another color besides white? I'd be satisfied with at least one pair of black socks. There are 15,000 choices if you are an infant. Why all the cutesy infant socks? They should be the ones stuck with plain white. It's rare an infant needs socks to match his dress pants for that school play. They don't even walk yet, so the white socks aren't even going to get dirty. Why do they get the black socks and the three year old boys who live to jump in mud get stuck with the white socks?

I saw racks and racks of Dora socks, Hannah Montana socks, sparkly pink, purple, red and green socks. Even socks with fur on the tops. I almost grabbed a pair of Dora socks out of desperation, but the thought of The Papa's head exploding stopped me.

I'm convinced it's a conspiracy. Look at they way they size socks:

Baby - Sock Size 3-4 1/2

Infant - Sock Size 4-5 1/2

Toddler - Sock Size 5-6 1/2

Kids - Sock Size 6-7 1/2

Boys - Sock Size 8 - 13

Today, I discovered Robby is a Kid. Not a toddler anymore, but not yet a boy. Since the sizes have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with shoe size, I had to discover this by sitting my son on a dirty KMart floor and removing his shoe and very small sock and trying them on his wriggling foot. I know I was not the first mom to do this because almost all of the packages had been opened.

I guess I have four choices. I can dress him only in white socks, no matter what color his pants are. I can learn to make socks. I can honor diversity, risk therapy, and dress him in sparkly socks. Or, I can put him in sandals.

Anyone out there know where I can find a pair of black Kids - Sock Size 6-7 1/2 for my son who wears a size 9 shoe?