My Youngest Baby Is Driving..........

Well.  Today was the day.  Today was the day I knew my Youngest Baby would pass his driver's test.

I don't know why we put it off for so long.  I think we may even have forgotten about it for a while......but then we remembered.

Luckily I knew exactly where the birth certificate and social security number papers were, due to the move.  I carefully loaded those and all other "important" papers into the glove box of the car.  Once there, I promptly forgot about them, and there they stayed until discovered by my Oldest Baby when he was going through car insurance papers.

We would also need a piece of mail with Youngest Baby's name on it.  I took a college propaganda pamphlet that we have been receiving multitudes of lately and felt prepared.  We had a little hiccup when it was discovered that Youngest Baby did not have his glasses with him at this time.  He barely passed an eye exam and did not even offer that his glasses had been lost in the move.  Either that, or they are still at my Fourth Son's house where we certainly hope, but do not know, for sure, they were left by accident on their last trip to visit.  

Still he passed, as I knew he would.  So on we go to the Department of Revenue office (don't you love that they finally got honest with that title?  It's no longer the Department of Motor Vehicles--just call a spade a spade and get real, people.  We are all about the Revenue, we even have a sign that proves it. ;)) and I offer the college propaganda pamphlet, clearly addressed in my Youngest Baby's name.

It is unacceptable.  They need a utility bill in his name, which, naturally, being 17 years old and junior in high school, he does not have.  But wait!  The registration for the car would work, as long as I am willing to sign a paper giving him "permission" to use my address.  As if my address is not also his home.  I sign the paper and he goes out to look through the glove box for the registration.

I am not worried because I just had to renew the tags on my car, for which I had this registration just a few weeks ago.  He comes back with 8 years of proof of insurance, the title for the car, and the Rock Star's birth certificate.  But no registration.

At which point the lady says that I can just run to the bank, get a copy of my last statement, which does not have my Youngest Baby's name on it (but that doesn't matter since I signed the paper), but will show my new address.  Now, what kind of sense this makes escapes me, and I assume could only possibly make sense to government employees, but aside from that, it would only take a few minutes to run to the bank and get said statement.  So we did that, discussing crazy govt. rules most of the way.

On our way back to the refreshingly honest Department of Revenue, it hit me.  This was my last time doing this.  I remembered the first time.  It was kind of sad.  The second time was bittersweet but I was resigned to it.  The third time, kind of a pain because I was tired and there were 2 of them..........but this was my last time.  I wasn't even nervous this time, I was that sure he would pass.  And now it was almost over.  I began humming You Can't Go Home Again by Wynona Judd but had to stop to concentrate on not actively crying.  Something about sons and how oblivious they are to such moments being a blessing floated through my head and then we were there.  We had the (impossible to explain, but hey, whatEVer) required documentation and the cash.  We were ready.

The rest went pretty smoothly, including the part where they offered to go ahead and register him to vote despite the fact that he is not 18 years old.  Have you noticed that?  It's not so new but I have noticed the strangest people, at the strangest times, trying to register me and/or my children to vote in the past few years.  You may have noticed it too.  Interesting, to say the least.  He declined the kind offer with a straight face.  I was so proud, I really was.  His face was so straight that I was unsure if he even noticed that this was strange.  How would he know the difference?  How would any kid who just got his license?  I'm sure it's just a public service.  Right?  Anyway, you might just be aware and see if you don't notice that, because I find it a cloying overstep that should not be dismissed, let alone indulged.

The rest of the trip went smoothly and we decided to stop at The Heart and Home for lunch.  I announced that I was sad, that My Youngest Baby was happy, and that I might cry before we even got in the door.  That Linda, being the angel that she is, arranged a brownie hot fudge sundae in honor of both of our moods, and we still got him to school in time to attend his afternoon classes.  

Mom, it's no big deal.   Please don't cry, Mom.

On the way to school I told him it was a new era in his life, and mine.  I must say I do relish the fact that I don't have to drive anymore unless I just want to.  I told him to shoot my Fourth Son a text and let him know that we must know, and get, those glasses back if at all possible.  I told him he would never remember the score of this particular test in 20 years.  He said he bet he would.  We will have to wait and see, it will take 20 years to find out who's right.  But it will probably be me.  heh heh

We did it!

It took most of a day that was soooooo humid, but we did it.  We have done it.  We now have an electric fence inside the chain link and the dogs are free to reign over the domain of our backyard once again.

We got some rain yesterday morning, which was an unexpected blessing.  I enjoyed it very much, sitting on my porch and drinking coffee. 

Following that was a trip to buy fencing supplies, long discussions of "options", the purchase of "some" supplies, other trips to other places for other discussions of "options" with coffee drinking farmers, and eventually the work was in progress.

I had no idea you could not just run down town and buy a 6 or 12 volt battery anymore.  Who knew?  Luckily, I had a practically brand new and hardly used battery in the lawn mower that hasn't run for at least 3 years.  A few hours on the trickle charger and we were in business.

The dogs got it within 1 zap each.  They are very smart that way.  The real problem is us.  After we had made the big beautiful yard safe for them, the boys were compelled to let them in last night "because they were lonely".  They went out for about 2 hours this morning and then I let them in "because it's so hot outside".  Now they are laying at my feet contentedly listening to my type.  We are very good people.  We love our dogs.  Self discipline is obviously the burden we are destined to overcome in this life.  So be it.  Eventually the boys are going back to school and I will go to work and the dogs will be in the backyard staying away from the fence, and everything will be as it should.  That is my plan, anyway.

After the rain it got so humid, as we were setting posts and running the wire, that sweat was actually beading up and running down my scalp.  Also, you may already know that the drought hasn't slowed down the mosquito's at all, and they had a feast on all of us.

This did not leave me in very good shape to go register the boys for school, but I just tried not to touch my hair, sprayed on some perfume we sallied forth.

Lord help me, we sallied forth in order to pay the school to be registered for such classes as "minority studies".  Yep.  You read that correctly.  I am not making it up.  If I hadn't already been sweat soaked and eaten up by mosquito's I probably would have had the energy to make a big deal of this.  I have very little energy left to throw at ignorant, gigantic Federal institutions, which is what public school has become, and this is probably good, since I have to live in this town.  Ok.  I don't "have" to live in this town, but it would be a lot of energy to move and the public schools will be the same no matter where I live.   But I have to tell you, I have just about had it.  If I could find someone to do it, my children would be home schooled, but this probably isn't news.  As it is, the kids show up and get passed without learning much of anything useful and the parents pretend to be happy and proud that they are doing so well.  We just work on the real lessons at home, in the time we have between supper and bedtime, if you are old-fashioned enough to work for a living.  It's the path of least resistance, I know, but I can only do so much.  

Do not doubt that we had a quite lively discussion of this in the convenience store where we ran into other guinea pigs students after registration.  The result was that there are several kids going to school that have been told that since they are white, male, and expect to work for a living, they are the new minority.   

Wonder how the teacher's gonna like them apples?  Poor thing.  I have no evidence that this is anything the actual teacher believes in, you understand.  I'm about 99.9% sure it's just part of the "curriculum" and there is a "rule" that it must (MUST I SAY!!) be checked off of a "list".  If the "list" isn't "checked off", there will be a "bad report", and the poor teacher's salary might "be affected".  

How do you think they get people to do this anyway?  It's not just through brainwashing.  You have to dangle some kind of good carrot to get people to go against everything their parent's tried to instill in them.  It is extremely helpful if you surround the subject with other's in the same boat.  They will call this a "team".  You don't think anybody would be stupid enough to advance this agenda without backup, do you?  Would you?  Of course not!  Most people do have a brain which often works despite their trying to suppress their own natural instincts.   Oh, and foster a strong belief that it's "the right thing to do".   This is supposed to silence logical and reasonable people with false guilt.  It is about 49% effective, too, and that is nobody's fault but our own.  

Apparently you need to start kid's attitudes of entitlement and victimization at least by the time they are freshman in high school.  Any later and it might not take, and then where would that leave the government?  

NOWHERE!  That's where!  

FAST! 

Which is one thing I would like to see before I die and I guess if that means having a war with my own children to supplant the insane, morally questionable (at best) and corrupt (at worst) attitudes that the school system seems to be intent on endowing them with, well, what can I say.? It appears to be my destiny.  We all have one and I'm not dead yet.  If you ever have cause to question what your "destiny" is, look around.  I'm pretty sure it's right in front of you.  Do it.  Then do what comes next.  This keeps the world spinning and we all have to do our part.

It's like a dream to me, getting the government out of our lives.  Remember another man who had another dream?  I thought we were there in the 80's, and I still think we were there, but not now.  Oh, no, now everyone is supposed to feel "bad" for anything "different" and "guilty" for things we never once did or even thought about doing.  

Would you just GET REAL already?  

If I am not mistaken, in America everyone has equal rights and we are all heavily encouraged to become adults and become self sustaining.  Nobody really cares or even thinks about what color you are and trust me, there are a whole lot of people who consider your sex life absolutely private and none of their business.  They wish you would consider it private and none of their business too!  Everybody has problems of their own and whining never helped anybody do anything.  

Whining=bad.  This should not have to be spelled out in a world of adults.  

But where are the adults? We have parents now who spend their time gaming and their money on "movies" that are cartoons.  Cartoons used to be for kids.  When my generation grew up, we waited to be 18, you know why?  So we could be independent!  The fact that this also meant we had a couple of milk crates for chairs did NOTHING to deter us.  In fact, it just made us swallow the fact that things cost money and our resolve to make more of it so we could buy us some stuff!  Now we have 18 year olds who play games most of the time living in their parent's basement and are not even expected to have a job, hence insurance, until they are 26????  Am I the ONLY ONE who is trying to raise adults????  I can't be!  It can't be true!!  I do not want to leave you with the impression that I think people below the age of 26 actually "need" insurance, either, because when I was that age I opted not to pay for it.  Why?  Because I was young and healthy and I wanted that money to buy beer or something instead.  But that was before the world moved on and started treating people like parasites, not to mention a time when people fought against being parasites.   Are those days gone?  Not if I have anything to do with it.

It looks to be a very interesting year.  Stay tuned.

I am bad at this....

I have fallen down on the blogging again. Sorry to anyone who cares.  I just seem to feel that I should have something to actually say.  Which is silly.  I almost always have something to say, so here are my thoughts in case anybody cares.

I read a cute little sign today that said Middle Age: when you get your head together and your body starts falling apart.

I think that was a true and brilliant sign.  My body is still holding together but the wrinkles are starting to get me down.  So I started using a rich emollient night cream.  I had noticed no difference in the wrinkles when I had to  suffer through large, below the skin pimples. The kind that hurt all the time and stay forever, are you familiar?  Presumably from all the rich emollients, but there is not way to really pin it down.  

After about a week of having at least one large, below the skin pimple throb in rhythm with my heartbeat every time I so much as leaned over, I gave up on the night cream, questioning God on why I am still plagued by an adolescent's burdens.

This set me up perfectly for the Home Shopping Channel to show me some kind of machine that 'stimulates' your skin and apparently freezes it to make you look about 20 years younger.  OR at least as many years ago as you didn't have wrinkles, I guess it would depend on your age.  The demonstration was both miraculous and mesmerizing.  I can only hope is isn't actually some kind of machine that will shock my muscles into paralysis.  But even if it is and it works like it did on television I think I may still be very very happy.  At least about my appearance.

Anyway, it was a very reasonable price, so I picked up the phone, which if you have ever called them before, you already know that all you have to do after that is keep pressing 1 and presto zingo, your treasure is on it's way to your door.  There is no time for deciding or questioning your impulse.  This is the American way, although you can always get your money back with HSN.  I will not list the hoops you have to jump through, and I hope you never have to find out.  Just don't throw anything away and you will probably be fine.

Now all I have to do is live with the dread of spending even a very reasonable amount of money on something that may or may not work but at the very least may stop me from spending time or energy on the horrible pimples.  I mean really, people, I am fricking 47 now.  Still with the pimples?  I have to wonder if they are not some kind of sign from God that I am doing something wrong.  Or maybe a punishment from something I did when I was 14.  There must be a reason.  If I only knew what it was I would certainly fall into line, but no, I just wander around hoping nobody else can see very well anymore either.  And honestly, considering where I go and the people who are at those places, the odds are VERY GOOD that they can't see anymore either.  I always did hang out with people who were older than me, and all can do is congratulate myself on that.  Good on you, girl!  You have a very good seat to see what's coming attcha and at least some information on what you can possibly do about it!!

This is my comfort.  If it comforts you also, you should stay home all the time and then when you do go out only hang out with people who are older than you are.  We have to take our comforts where we find them, and I am telling you that you could do a lot worse.  You could probably do a lot better too, and if so I only wish you would contact me immediately.

I read a book about a woman the other day who was going through a stage where "she didn't feel like a mother, a writer (her job), or even much of a woman", these days, and I thought "Hmmm.  Other people feel this way too."  At least one other person, in this case Joyce Carol Oates, but it was just so good to know that SOMEBODY else had been where I seem to be at.  For the lady in the book this meant big changes.  I can only hope it portends the same thing for me.  One big help would be for me to be able to drag up any desire to do anything.  Yesterday I didn't really even eat anything.  It's like I'm languishing.  Remember Charlotte's web?  I always thought 'languishing' sounded so relaxing, and I can't say it's not.  It is a little scary to my head, but every other part of me just can't bring themselves to care enough to get up.  Perhaps Geritol is the answer I seek.  Do they still make Geritol? 

Will I care if they don't?  

I DOUBT IT!

Until then I will be awaiting the arrival of the miracle machine from HSN ( but not anxiously, because I just don't care that much).  After that I may be euphoric and re-charged (who am I kidding here?  Me or you?), or in a rage to get my money back and kicking myself in the butt for buying into the BS again (much more likely.  If you are a betting person, the odds are good here).

It could go either way, but probably both of these things will happen in exactly this order (truth).

The bright note of the week was when I tried to explain to some college student why it was not a good idea to raise the minimum wage again.  I asked him where he went to school but I should have just asked for his mother's phone number. Because whose fault would that really be?  The school's?  No.  Ultimately it is the parent's responsibility and all this finger pointing going on in this country is about to make me go postal.  Where are all the adults??  You may ask.  I can't help but think we are all wondering.

He backed away quickly in any case.  No doubt on a community organizing event, organized by his college, or "school", on the taxpayer's dime.   Sigh.......

Oh, and I had to laugh the other day at what 'scientists' have now termed "care-giver fatigue".  This is a 'syndrome' in which you become exhausted from caring for children and/or older parents, especially if you have both.  This is what we used to call 'life', of course, but now that they have made it a 'syndrome' no doubt drugs and therapy programs will follow.  Just cannot wait to see what they do with this.  Be warned, and stay sane, ladies and gentleman.  When they come to you, and you know they will, probably catching you by some random question on the questionnaire to get in to see the doctor, be ready to laugh in their faces and shout Poppycock!  Tell them that you are blessed to have so many people who love you and that taking care of them, while, yes, exhausting, is also the reason you are on this earth.  Tell them that to have someone else fulfill these 'obligations' would be a betrayal of the care these same people have given, or will give, to you, and you would not have it any other way.  Then question why they think the Dr., or the government (not much difference anymore) would even get involved in that.  THEN tell them the government may find more success if they stick to the defense of this nation and the highways.  If they can do that right that would be more than enough.  Really.  Be a responsible adult in charge.  It's a new concept I'm trying to get off the ground.  OK, it's an old concept.  Old as the world, actually, but to these kids now it's new again.  Carry the flag, pass the baton, give these kids some kind of security that there are adults in charge.  Please?

Another bright note is that in Missouri we are now into the normal mowing season.  I only mention this because we were forced to start mowing in March this year, as opposed to the more normal May, and this caused quite a lot of consternation on how to mow the grass but keep the flowers yet to bloom undisturbed. 

Of such small problems may all of your lives be made up of, until next time!