Invisible

I'm feeling....invisible. Normally, where my MIL is concerned, this would not upset me. I might welcome it even. But here, in this particular situation, it really does upset me.

My husband's grandmother passed away Sunday morning. I was sad, but relieved. The last few weeks of her life were not easy and probably not very enjoyable for her. Hospital, hospice, stroke, leukemia, etc....nothing "good" or fun about any of those. She is no longer in pain, no longer too weak to even speak. For that, I am thankful. She deserves an eternity in heaven.

The hard part is now...dealing with the family for the funeral preparations. You see, I've always had a soft spot for Grandmas. Probably because mine was so dear to me. She's been gone over 5 years and I still miss her every day. I hate that she never met my daughter. I think about that a lot.

I married a guy with two grandmas who were really amazing. They both accepted me into their families without hesitation, without prejudice, without regard for the fact that I wasn't blood. In my MIL's family, this was particularly important to me. In that family, there is a clear distinction of whether you are an in-law or not. I don't believe there should be. They preach that they are such a wonderful, close family. Well, not to those of us who weren't born into it. There are issues, anxiety, walls. I'm being left out of the funeral preparations. I don't want to be in-charge. I don't even want a speaking part in the Mass. I just want to be considered. To my MIL and some of her siblings, there were 7 grandchildren. To me and to Grandma, there were 9. Seven happened to be blood, 2 happened to be married in. But she counted all of us as her grandchildren. She told me several times in recent months "you're one of my favorites".

I'm being cast aside by people who have accused me of putting up walls and being the reason for having a less than perfect relationship with them. THIS is why things are difficult between us. THIS is why I put up those walls...because if I don't, you hurt me.

The Guardian

Last night my cousin asked me to be the guardian of his three girls if something happens to his wife and him. To which I responded "absolutely" without hesitation. I want nothing more than for my family to be together. To be asked is such an honor. I should have probably asked my husband his thoughts first though, huh?? ;)

But it got me thinking...what if I didn't have awesome, healthy parents? Who would we choose? My parents are the official/unofficial guardians of my kids. But if I had to choose someone our age...who would it be? Family is an obvious choice. I would like to say my brother, but he has little to no experience with kids. My husband's sister and brother...um, not so much. Then I thought of three people. However, two are out of town and I would want the kids to live here and grow up here. And the one that lives here is tops on my list of the three for practical and family reasons.

One of those people is not family though. It's my best friend. Which is weird for me because I hold family in such high regard...but she is my family. She is my "unbiological sister". And really...wouldn't you want your kids raised by someone very much like you? We are so similar, it's scary sometimes.

I think if I had to appoint other guardians than my parents, I would go with the in town family choice first....but with two stipulations...that they go to Catholic school through high school and that they see my unbiological sister at least once a year, if not more.

It's Not the Heat, It's the Humidity

And I love it all.

Am I crazy?

I don't mind that it's going to be 98 degrees today with a heat index of up to 115. Really. It's August. It's St. Louis. This is NORMAL.

I wish I could soak it up and save it for when it's 30 degrees. Seriously. I hate coldness. I only like snow for about 10 minutes of the first snowfall of the season. I don't like to play in the snow...I'm not 10 anymore. I don't want to go sledding. I don't want to bundle up and not be able to walk properly, still get freezing cold and come in to make hot chocolate.

I'm good with swimming in a nice pool, sweating a bit and having a cold drink.

I'd rather walk into work sweating at 8:30 this morning than not being able to feel my feet and/or hands and/or ears.

The only thing that would make this a little better is if I could be lounging by a pool today with a cocktail in hand. But no...I have to work (and blog apparently). Just a couple more days this week...Friday, I'll be at the pool, if you're looking for me.

Dodged a Bullet

Yesterday morning I left for work and within half an hour, all hell broke loose in the skies over my house for less than 5 seconds. Lightening struck and thunder boomed all at once, according to Matt. The result? No cable TV. So Matt called the cable company (which we are leaving by the end of summer because they suck and took away my weather channel and tv guide channel). They set up an appointment for 8-10 today. Later in the afternoon, two cable co. trucks were on our street. Apparently, other people on our street were without cable and it wasn't just us. They left, but we still were without cable. They called "Just wanted to check that your cable is now working". Um, NO. You must still come out tomorrow and fix this.

This morning they returned (in the 8-10 window, no less) and the guy figured out our cable box and splitter were fried. Like the lightening had hit so close to our house, it fried them. The box has something in it that saved our TVs exploding.

So today, I am thankful...thankful that we don't have to buy two new TVs, thankful that we didn't lose electricity in the middle of JULY in St. Louis, thankful that said lightening didn't hit a tree that fell on my house, and so on. And it was fun last night to watch a couple short You Tube videos of The Muppet Show with my kids. Man, they don't make TV like that anymore.

Does it get better than the Swedish Chef??

Nothing Like It

This week I'm at a client's office in Soulard, down the street from the Anheuser Busch brewery. There is absolutely nothing like stepping outside on a warm, sunny, perfect day in May, taking in a deep breath and breathing that smell of hops. That smell is so synonymous with this part of the city. You can smell it for blocks, sometimes miles, when the wind is blowing. I hope that the brewery is still around when my kids are old enough to remember it. It's such a part of St. Louis...not that the snarky Belgians care about that.