Will you hold my hair?

I used to get really excited for Friday. It's a good day. It's a great day. It's the end of the week. We used to go out and have a great time at the bars. Go to a movie. Get our car booted at the Pulix in Buckhead. (only once, pal!) Now, hubby goes to poker once a month, I go out with one set of girlfriends or the other and we get a babysitter (typically my youngest sister). That's only one weekend a month, though. The other 3 weeks we are usually home. Not that that's a bad thing, we're usually so wiped by the end of the week all we want to do is sleep. It's usually the night we go to bed the earliest.

But I digress. This is really about me getting older and not knowing how I feel about it. A couple of months ago we went to a party in B-head at a bar that a couple of my friends from high school run. It was a birthday/charity event and I drank too much. I did the whole drunk girl routine and even puked in the Wawful Hou$e parking lot. Yeah, you pretty much can't take me anywhere. It was sad. I was mad at myself. Hell, I'm 32 years old. (I was just 31 at the time. I didn't know any better....lol) I just don't drink enough to drink the way I drank that night. I repeat, it was sad. I've never been a pretty drunk, but I'm a friendly drunk. ;- ) Just ask the dear hubby. I totally macked on him in the bar. Like I said...I'm a friendly drunk.

I'm just one of those people who can have one or two drinks and be okay, but once I get a third one I tend to binge. Therefore, I tend to not drink at all. I think I had 7 or 8 drinks that night. I know...DUH! Didn't I learn anything in college or the 10 years since?? Yes, but I'm also WAY out of practice.

What a Wonderful This Could Be...

This past weekend, I went with my mother (and son) to my Great Aunt's house. This was my maternal grandmother's sister who, for a good portion of my life, was a surrogate grandmother. Don't get me wrong. I loved my grandmother dearly, but my Aunt R (to protect the innocent)was always such a sweetie and would seemingly drop anything and everything to help us.

She is now at the beginning stages of alzheimers. It's killing my mom. Recently, she was in the hospital for gall stones and ended up having her gall bladder removed. She's 74 and is having problems remembering things. Names mostly. She didn't remember the conversations we'd had 2 minutes after we'd had them. She gets confused so easily. It's hard not to talk to her and burst into tears b/c you know what's coming next.

This disease is so cruel. She is the third person I've known and my second blood relative (that I know of) to have it. It robbs you of your life. The only good thing about it (if I have to try and find a good thing) is that by the middle-end of it you seem to remember only the good times and the bad times just seem funny.

My great-grandmother (Aunt R's mother) had it and I remember being a kid and going to her house and at first you would only have to remind her who you were once. Then, it was every once in a while. Then, it progressed (or regressed) to her not remembering anything but the past. It completely steals away your short-term memory. That part is what's hard.

On the other hand, wouldn't it be nice if we could only remember the good parts in life and forget the bad, but still benefit from the learning experience without having to deal with the pain? What a wonderful world this would be. Although, how can you appreciate the good without the bad...and all that blahhh! I still think sometimes there are bad things that happen that should be allowed to be wiped out. Kind of like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" (preferrably without Kirsten Dunst jumping on my bed in her undies...but that's just a personal preference).

Baby Mine.

Last night after book club I came home and watched an episode of Law & Order: SVU. I NEVER watch that show, but I'd heard that it was going to be a good one. I decided WTF and watched. It was really good, but it had to do with a little girl who was being held captive and used for porn. Very disturbing. They find her buried and half-dead at the end, but they find her.

Ever since I had my son I've been uber-sensitive to things having to do with children. For instance, I never understood why all these parents got so upset at Stephen King's "Pet Semetary". It was just another scary book... until I had my own child. Now, stuff like that just makes me think of losing my child and I can't bear to think of things like that. It's too hard. I would lose it.

After the episode I went into my son's room and just held and rocked him. I don't get many moments where he's not constantly on the move. I reflected on how lucky we are to even have him and how I don't know what I would do with myself if I ever lost him or my hubby. It's too scary to think about. Way too scary.

So, I won't. I will just get back to work and think about the upcoming episode of LOST! Whoo Hoo! I love Wednesday!

BTW, just so you know. We got a stomach virus this past weekend. It's a doozy, but it's only a 12-hour doozy. Thankfully. My son had it a week ago and we thought we were safe. We weren't. It was bad. Hopefully, it will be the only one we get this year. I haven't had a stomach virus since I was about 14 years old. Now, I've had two in the last 9 months. I love daycare!

My mind is so scattered that I start talking about my sweet baby and end up talking about puke. Go figure!

Everyone have a good one!