Merry Christmas!

 Overall, Hubby and I had a great weekend. We went to my folks yesterday and pigged out on Prime Rib. He has all of this week off and I actually got four days in a row off. It was nice to get some of the boxes unpacked and some art on the walls. It’s starting to look like home! We exchanged some small gifts and spent time playing with the Mendins. She got rawhides for Christmas!

Of course, there is always the “Family stories” to tell. Dad and Cheryl sent us a gift with a money card in it but didn’t sign even their names. For that matter, they didn't write in it at all. Okay, then! I would have rather had a “Hi, how are you?” than the money, even though we need the money. They used to send us a “Daughter and Son in Law” card that was always nice but I guess we are not getting those anymore. Whatever. Cheryl emailed to ask if we got the gift and I told her yes. I also told her it would sure be nice to get a paragraph about how they were occassionally. She will ignore it as usual.

Hubby’s mother, of course had to pull something. This year, she sent a tin of popcorn to us. Of course, I don’t like popcorn. He called to thank her for it and wish her a Merry Christmas on Christmas (assuming there was something else coming in the mail) and she asked him if we had received the card she sent, we hadn’t. It came today. It was very….sterile. And no, there wasn’t anything else in it. And yes, she spent her normal $100.00 a couple and $50.00 a grandchild on all of the other families. The tin of popcorn was $19.00. You realize it isn’t the money. It’s the thinking behind it. It’s the same thinking as with the vacation. “Oh, I am punishing you because you don’t BOW at my feet so I am going to let you know I am spending more on the other siblings just to hurt you.”

Nice. Hubby of course, is pissed. She had always sent something before…even if they were having a row. It’s like the more we choose NOT to react, the more she tries to hurt him. You realize, I would like to call and bitch her out. But that would be what she wants. It’s attention, even if it is negative. And then she is a victim because we called and said she was unfair and being nasty. Because then, she plays totally innocent.

She is such a complete and total b*tch. We sent her a gift this year-as usual and I had to charge it because we are short on money. Hubby said he was done with the gift giving. I can’t say as I blame him.

And to do something like that when we are supposed to be celebrating the birth of Jesus. What a complete hypocrite. I am very interested to know just how she can walk into that Catholic Church twice a week and smile at her posse and priest. I would be down on my knees begging for forgiveness. I’ll tell you this. It’s no wonder she is miserable and lives such an angry, bitter life.  I would feel horrible about myself if I acted like that to my family! We even still send gifts to the nieces and nephews we aren’t allowed to see! WTF OVER?!?!

*sigh*

In other news, we have word from the PMC that the young couple who looked at our house last weekend has turned in all of their references and such. Everything looks good. We are hoping to hear they have paid the deposit this week. They want to move in the first week of January. Thank you-God.
I swear it is just in the nick of time. I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and I wish you a peaceful and blessed New Year.

~Sophia

When Ben moved back in with us, we didn’t fight as much. We usually ganged up on Stevie, Diana’s son-or Diana when she was being a pain. (We were pretty hard to compete with when it came to witty banter if we were on the same team.) As I recall, it wasn’t long after he was back that Diana left again. Maybe a year or so...I think. Ben literally said “Good Riddance” when I read him her note. I was so surprised that he could be so heartless about it. Then I thought maybe he was just hiding his feelings. It was probably a little of both.

Ben was so ornery is school and so combative. I felt like I constantly had to stick up for him. He always had someone picking on him-in his mind and in mine. Now I look back and realize he brought a lot of that on himself and Dad had taught us a victim mentality. He would do a lot of things for attention and if he knew he was good at something-he made sure you knew it. He had played catch (baseball/softball) with me since he could hold a glove and by the time he got into grade school-he could throw hard and throw a long way! He wasn’t any slouch when it came to hitting either. So we had some pretty good ball games in the yard my 8^th grade and freshman summers. Of course, I was the only girl playing. The guys, for the most part were younger than me so it wasn’t a huge challenge but it kept me practicing and in good form. God, would Ben talk s*it out there-worse than about anyone. And almost always, he would get SO ANGRY and I would have to calm him down or there would be a fist of cuffs. Winter months meant basketball season. I used to drill Ben on his dribbling when he was maybe 8-9 years old in the garage where the concrete was flat. By the time he was 12, he could dribble around me even with me holding on to his waste fouling the day-lights out of him. Sometimes, we would play so hard we would fight but most of the time, we would end up laughing. We would laugh so hard, we would cry. Ben and I did it all the way, whatever we were doing. We rode horses together with Dad, Diana and Steve for a few years. That was a blast. When Ben was in 3^rd grade, he was riding Ginger-a 20 year old Quarter horse-mix mare with a mind of her own and he was begging Dad to race him. Now Ginger was no slouch-even at 20. The only horse with more speed was my little mare-Amber. Amber could freaking fly and I had a hell of a good time with that horse but that is a story for another day. So Dad finally relented and off they went. Dad was riding a 4 year old, beauty of a Palomino named Jake that was about half green and loved to run. Jake had the longest blonde tail and mane, God he was gorgeous. He was also a biter. But again, I digress.

Ben had Dad right from the get-go. Ginger could feel the energy and she shot out like a young filly that had been tied up for two days and just been let out to pasture! They had run about 100 yards when I saw Ginger take a sharp (nearly 90 degree) turn left and I saw a figure flying in the air and then we heard a blood curling scream. Mind you, we were riding in a corn field that had been harvested about a month previous so there were corn stalks a foot long sticking out of the ground. Dad leapt off of Jake all in one flash and I shot after them as fast as I could. When I came upon them, Diana and Steve fast on my trail; Ben was still down and screaming like nothing I had ever heard-I thought he was going to die right there in the field. He had landed on his right arm and his face. Dad got him up and started carrying him. He was a bloody mess and it was clear at least his wrist had been broken. He could walk alright but Dad carried him the mile and a half or so home. Remember, Ben was no small kid. He probably weighed 70 lbs by then…and Dad has never in his life weighed over 170 lbs soaking wet!

Dad and Diana took Ben into the county hospital and made Steve and I stay home. It was awful waiting to hear if he was okay. I thought they were so mean for not letting us go. Ben came home with a patch over his eye. The fear was that stalks would have poked and taken his eye but his arm had protected his eyes. His forehead and one side of his face looked like he had been through a meat grinder. And his knees and elbow too! He did break his wrist but the Doctor said it was a clean break so he would be fine. Ben was left handed so it didn’t affect him much. He was back on a horse before he had the cast off. Dad did make Steve and Ben switch horses. He gave Ben Goldie-the 22 year old mare who was old, fat and lazy. She was so funny. She would push out her belly so far when we were putting the saddle on that the saddle would fall off when Ben got on her because then she would suck in her belly! So Dad taught us to knee her in the belly but even then, she was really stubborn! Then she got to where she would just lay down when Ben got up on her. I would yell, “just walk right off of her Ben!” and he did. I don’t know how he kept getting back up on horses as hard of a time as he had with them. He couldn’t handle Amber-she always wanted to trot and run and needed a good rider to keep up with her. I could ride backwards, in bare feet and no bridle on any of those horses and they wouldn’t have cared less. Not Ben, they pushed him around. I guess they knew he was the baby and they could get away with some of that-until Dad or I scolded one of them anyway.

More later-

Wow. What a day. I am pooped. Every person I talked to on the phone today was looking for a fight. Totally combative. I had to literally talk over a couple of people to get out a full sentence and then they got mad at me. Some days, it just doesn’t pay to work with the public.

Meanwhile, I think we have the truck sold. My parents are going to buy it if no one pans out from Ebay. We won’t make any money on it but the note will be paid. The PMC continues to shine. Hubby’s brother went over to our house this weekend to check on it and found no For Rent sign, a note saying “I waited here for 45 minutes and I am leaving. I guess you don’t want to rent this place after all!” AND no lock box for the combination they had given us and therefore no way to get in and light the pilot light for the gas. It’s supposed to be freezing and below there. We called the PMC’s owner and left three messages and after almost a full day, he still had not returned our call. So we used the emergency page for the Maintenance department and presto! He called back in 15 minutes. Of course, he had no knowledge of the lock box so he said he would do some research and call us back. The next phone call we received was from one of the girls in the office. He made her call us on her day off! How crappy is that for a boss!?! She is the only one in the place with half a brain and we could tell she was embarrassed.
How can you have a place rented out for 6 months and not put a sign in the yard? Her official answer was that they don’t know where the sign or the lockbox went but they swear they were both there! Huh? Does this even sound like a real company? Are we in the Twilight Zone?

How about just renting the damn place out already! Hubby and I reviewed our finances and it’s going to be a bleak Christmas, I am here to tell you. I mean, I realize we have a lot more than many others in this country but it’s still scary to see your savings and checking accounts deplete.

Anyhoo. It’s been a Monday. I just couldn’t bring myself to broach the Ben subject today. I have tomorrow off and I plan to come in Wednesday refreshed and upbeat. It will be easier for me to write then. Plus, I have to work a 12  hour day that day so I may as well save some writing for that day. How in the world could our GM think we can actually fill 12 hours a day with work? I am a work-a-holic and I can’t always find something to do!

Speaking of the GM; we had to go to his house for his party this last Saturday night. He has about a 4500 square foot monster of a home with every possible upgrade and of course, the pool and hottub out back. The kitchen was to die for, I mean just gorgeous. His bathroom really is bigger than the Blue Banana. I still haven’t heard anything about my bonus. God help me if I don’t get a Christmas bonus. You’ll turn on CBS and Katie will be telling you all about the crazy woman from south Texas that went postal after she found out she wasn’t getting a bonus.

Remember Clark W Griswold? Need I say more?

Today is my Brother Ben’s 31^st birthday and of course, I won't be talking to him so it's a melancholy day for me. To help slog through it, I have decided it's finally time to tell the story.

Ben was not what I wanted for an early Christmas present when I was a little girl. I wanted to keep my parents all to myself. I remember being very jealous when he came home. But then he grew up some and started crawling and giggling so I found him more amusing then. He also spent much of his time as a baby crying! And Ben didn’t just cry, he screamed and cried. He had chronic ear infections and when he was a baby there just wasn’t much they could do at the Army hospital for him. I think he was given medication but we still had to wait for it to work and he was in pain until the meds kicked in. When he was a toddler, Mom was very careful to keep a hat on his head if there was the slightest chill in the air so he didn’t catch cold. She usually threw one on my head too just to be safe. When Ben was a toddler, he had white blonde hair which was curly and soft and big brown eyes. He was a big baby to begin with, nearly 10 lbs. so he was a big toddler too. I was a tall little girl so it didn’t bother me a bit; I just played along with him. He followed me everywhere as soon as he could walk and called me “Sister” until he was 5 or 6 years old. He was a very cute little boy. All of the old ladies in the grocery store would comment on his looks and then look over at me and pat my head and tell my mom “now she is going to be the smart one and won’t need looks.” I guess they were right because I understood what they meant, even then.

Ben was notorious for being bull headed and not listening to “no”. As soon as he heard “no”; he went right ahead and did whatever Mom had told him not to do. Touch the hot stove, put his finger in the metal fan (and yes, blood splattered everywhere), hit, scream, sass-he was a handful. Mom lost her patience with him daily and I was often the one who would put him down for his nap because Mom just couldn’t take it anymore. I would lie down beside him and he would suck his thumb and hold my hand and go to sleep.

We grew up close until my parents divorced. I am actually the one who went in the bathroom and told him our parents were getting divorced. He was taking a bath. Mom got mad at me for that but I didn’t care. I was mad at her! Of course, being only 8 and he only 4, neither of us took the divorce well. He was quieter about his feelings about it. In hindsight, we seemed to take it out on each other by fighting. We would have knock down drag outs. Especially once Mom and Pop got married. When we went to live with Dad my 8^th grade year, Ben opted to go back to Mom’s after 6 months or so. I decided to stay at Dads. The time we were apart was no fun for either of us. I think we both enjoyed the individual attention from our parents; but even that didn’t curb the loneliness. I convinced Ben to move back to Dad’s that summer, much to Mom’s despair.

More later….