Happy Birthday PopPop

A day late ... yesterday was Dad's birthday. When I called to speak to him, he hinted around that he and Mom would be home and if I had anything I needed to do that evening, I was welcome to drop Sage off and they could "watch" her for me. Funny, eh? I told him that if he wanted to see his granddaughter on his birthday, all he had to do was say so. And he did. So we went down last night. Looks like they had fun! Monkey got a bit of an attitude shortly before we went home because her MawMaw was a meanie last night. She wouldn't let her eat an emory board, and let's just say ... IT. BROKE. HER. HEART. Sob city! You would have thought her every happiness hung on the chewing of that little scrap of sandpapered wood.

My brother lives and works on a his wife's family farm. It's a dairy farm mostly, but they grow corn and bale hay and straw. Maybe a few other things. I've asked for straw ... and corn stalks. I have this really elaborate set up in my mind to take pictures of Sage for Halloween tomorrow. It's supposed to fucking rain! Gah! It's actually supposed to rain this afternoon, into tomorrow. That's a BIG problem because my elaborate little scenario involves all of the leaves that I have very impatiently been waiting to have on the ground under my maple tree. FOR THREE WEEKS! Bastard weather god ... who is it that sends down the rain? I think it's Zeus. The philandering whoremonger. I've got some choice words for him right about now! I can't make my precious little bundle sit in wet leaves. And I won't be home in time to bag them up in all of their crispy dry goodness.

On the toffusus front ... number five has finally managed to push a point of it's pearly whiteness through her gums. Between those damned teeth, her ear infection and that blasted cough that her germ ridden, infectious mama gave her ... sleep was a not on the agenda last night. She would doze off to sleep and wake up either fussing or outright screaming like a banshee quite often and the only way to soothe her was to pick her up and bounce her. Can we say tired? Good. 'Cause I am. I told my mother, the other day, that I have resigned myself to never getting enough sleep again. Ever. I'm convinced that she will never sleep through the night again, after teasing me with 3 months of blissful seven hours stretches without waking. Well, at least not until she is well into her teens, at which point I will stand sentry outside her bedroom window to make sure that she isn't sneaking out. See what I mean? No sleep for me. Ever again. I will live the rest of my days in the limbo of catnaps and sleepy alertness.

So, an enjoyable evening was had by all yesterday evening and Sage got to play with her PopPop, who I am convinced is going to be her very best friend when she enters into toddlerhood. Which is how it should be. My PopPop was my best friend in the whole world and I thought he walked on water. There wasn't a thing he couldn't fix, until my windup music box from "It's a Small World" at Disney World broke. I've always secretly longed to have another one of those but I know I will never find it. And I don't want a new one. I want the old school windup variety that did not need $10 worth of batteries to operate for 2 hours. I picture Sage and my father being like my PopPop and I were. Lazy afternoons fishing. He was self-employed, so I got to go on calls with him often. Nazi-mama that I am, if Sage goes to work with her PopPop, it will likely be with earplugs inserted to protect her hearing from that loud-ass truck ... but I can see her tagging along. She and Dad remind me of Forrest and Jenny ... they go together like peas and carrots.