Whenever I think, “I have no heart,” something always comes along to prove to me that I do.

     My immediate thought is always to be skeptical of Internet Chain Letters and such, but with this one, I dug a little deeper and found that it’s totaly legitimate…

Why the one million friends challenge? I get asked the questions, Why 1 million friends? What will it achieve? on a regular basis. So I thought I would try to explain. James and I used to come onto myspace to listen to music and look at the videos just before he was diagnosed and added a few friends.

When James was diagnosed and we came to terms with the fact that his cancer and its treatment was going to take over our lives we needed a distraction and the “James and Daddy” page was born. I asked James if he thought we could get one hundred friends and then one thousand and the ten thousand. When we reached ten thousand friends I asked James to set the next target. James said ONE MILLION.

We will gain nothing financially from this page but have gained friendship from people around the world and we have shared our story with you all and in return shared your stories. This page has helped us as a family deal with the tough times and share the good times. Now as a father I feel I have to achieve this challenge as I made a vow to James the day after he was born that I would never let him down and I would only make him a promise if I could keep it.

So there you have it, the reason for the challenge and why I need you to help me get more friends. We have tried the celebrity route with minor success so all we can do is keep sending out the bulletins and searching out the profiles that have loads of friends and big hearts.

     I mentioned a while back, I can’t have kids… Rather, not healthy ones, anyway… I always say I found my peace with all of that a long time ago.
     But then again, maybe that’s why stuff like this tears me up so bad… Like it did with Ambriel… Like it does with someone else even closer who went through a bout of it herself (I love you, baby girl, I miss you, and I’m proud of you).

     There’s the futility factor, wishing I could do something to make it better, and I can’t…

     And then, of course, I see their faces they’re smiling right through it most days.

     That…

     …is one of the few things that I glean hope from.

     And I know damn well that despite everything else, those kids are toughter than I will ever be.

     If you’ve got MySpace, be sure and add him as a friend.  Spread the word.  Make a donation.

     http://www.myspace.com/bizwiz68

Howdy kids. My daughter called me last night and told and asked me what she should do with Tyler, my lil angel of a grandson. She said he was spiking a bigtime temperature and he couldn’t catch his breath. Turns out he was taking 50+ breaths per minute, which is way too much for a 2 year old.

After spending the evening at the ER, they told us he has pneumonia. Apparently, a kid can go from slight sniffles sans snot and goo to pneumonia in no time flat. So, his right lung is kinda jacked up and he’s taking a shit-pot of munchkin strength anti-biotics and breathing treatments.

Of course, no pneumonia epidemic is gonna get him down. Absolutely not. He was still raisin’ all hell in the waiting room and wasn’t diggin that nurse trying to take his vitals during check-in. It was all over when Natalie tried to strip him down to get him in a sexy, midget sized hospital gown. It pissed him off even more that he was getting a draft on his ass.

Keep my lil angel in your prayers, please. Even though he’s still full of piss and vinegar, pneumonia is an ass-kicker.

So, after the boy’s football game Friday night, I’m tired and I feel just nasty. I was full of Italian Ice, as I had engulfed like 5 during the game trying to cool of. I’d had sweat running from my neck, down my back, directly down my butt crack. 

That, my friends, is not a nice feeling.

Even with feeling grody and tired, I still hoped to go home and get a little lovin’ after a nice cold shower. Know what I mean? I think ya do.

But, no. 

Why is it that I can never seem to get rid of both of teen-aged-mutants at the same time? 

Amanda, my girl, was spending the weekend at Jessie’s (the child that claims me as her other mother).  But, the boy couldn’t stand it; he had to stay home.  Worse yet, he had to stay awake.  So, we get home, I go take a shower and I go to bed…. to sleep.

Hell if I didn’t wake up early, before the boy.  So, I poke Anthony and told him wake up and GET ‘R DUN!!! 

Door was closed and I was under the blanket.  I got too hot, so I go and throw/kick/pitch/toss the blanket in the floor.

Well, Anthony’s cell phone was in the livingroom.  His phone rang.  Matthew decided to answer it.  Matthew decided that he would just bust into MY bedroom to tell his dad that Mario was on the phone. 

BUSTED!

Sweet Jesus.  Now up until that point in life, I don’t believe anything has ever both made me absolutely furious and at the same time nearly given me a heart attack.

This non-knocking problem we are having is getting a little bit on my nerves.
Admittedly, I am most likely the most sexually natured person I know. I dig it.  I want it.  I just can’t help it. 

But even my horns are nipped in the bud, knowing that kid is in the house lurking.  There have been numerous times I’ve just decided to forego play time just because I’d hate to think about anybody else in the house knowing.

GRRR!!!!  Can we say frustrated???

I mean, I swear, I think he has a sixth sense when it comes to knowing if and when we may be even considering having sex.  It’s like he goes that extra mile to keep trying to drive a wedge of any kind between me and Anthony.

Makes me nervous to have anything in my room, let alone my happy drawer.

Then this happened:

So, I get started to get over getting busted by the boy.  And I go outside to start working on the cleaning out of the shed.  This shed is barely a shanty.  It is missing the bottom boards on the walls, so it’s wide open to anything and everything that wants in.

Ok, now there is a reason that shed was in the shape it was in.  I don’t dig going in it and flat refused to go in it for three years.  Not to mention the fact that I’d seen various critters and rodents zipping in and out of there.  *shiver*. 

But, the time had come.  We have a week to be getting all of my crap up and out of the house, which means the shed had to be cleaned too.  I get the broom, the hair spray and my lighter and head out back where the shed stands. 

I stand outside, looking to see what sort of arachnid may be lurking up above my head or down below my feet.  Ewwww!  Dark, scary and spider infested.

So, I finally take the broom, poke it inside the shed and start swingin like a wild woman at whatever might be in my path.  When I didn’t feel that was enough, I took the hairspray and lighter and started blow torching anything that appeared to be an insect of any sort.  The smell of sizzling spiderwebs is a lovely one.

My spider problem apparently taken care of, I forged ahead.  Looking at the piles of shit that were tossed into this shed nearly three years ago when I moved into the house, I decided that if it had been there for damn near three years and not missed, that it wasn’t ever going to be missed.  Rahter than digging through the boxes, I hauled them right out to the bed of the truck.  Locked and loaded for the Knox County dump.

I had gotten most of the crap out, when I thought I heard something.  It was a rustling around sound.  I stopped and assessed what it might be.  I didn’t see anything.  So, I turned around to get another box and IT ran over my foot. 

Well, I’ll swear I thought it was a two-foot rat.  After nearly having the second heart attack of the day and hearing IT run into a window thinking it was a way out of the shed, I saw it.  A baby rabbit.

Still when I’m confined in an icky space where I’m already paranoid, I don’t even want the cutest of furry woodland creatures hippity-hopping over my foot.

The weekend started with a nice drive to Campbell County. It was the Campbell County Cougar’s season opener against the Union County Patriots. My step-son to be is a Cougar and my ass promised to be there.

It was hotter than 10 hells on Friday and I was not dressed to go to a football game straight from work. I was in a short, black skirt and dressy tank top. Not exactly the gear I’d prefer to be wearing whilst resting my ass on 110 degree concrete bleachers.

The fun part was that my friends, Duck & Debbie, well, their son plays for Union County. So there we are… Me & Anthony and Duck & Debbie. Rooting for our respective kids. When the guy on the P.A. makes the announcement that the kids in the league are encouraged to have good sportsman-like conduct, and how we as parents, should be the same way.

I looked at Debbie and told her as soon as Union County scored I was gonna punch her right square in the mouth. Well I didn’t get to pop her a good one because I had no more than said that when Campbell County scored, twice, in the second quarter.

Good sports-man-ship my ass.

It seemed like we were gonna be pulling splinters out of the boy’s ass from his riding of the bench, but lo and behold, the last 3 minutes 22 seconds of the game they finally put his ass in. He made a serious tackle and assisted in a final touchdown. Go Boy Go!

I decided not to tell him that the majority of the Powell team was there watching them play. I reckon they wanted to see how hard it’s gonna be to whoop up on some Cougar ass.

I don’t know what to do when Powell and Campbell County play. I gradu-ma-wated from Powell several moons ago. But the boy is a Cougar.

I suppose I sew the back of a Powell shirt to the front of a Cougar shirt and be for both.

      “I’ll bet in High School, they voted you ‘Most Likely to Die Laughing…’”
      “Yeah, you just didn’t know they meant AT YOU, eh?”

     I’m gonna take Fracas’ queue here … I hate all this damned negativity.  Negativity SUCKS!    And besides, it’s just not like me to be this wound up.  Thpft!  Hyper, laughing, twisted, yeah… *snicker*

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate adore.

The outpouring of love for the daughter of a friend really goes to show ya how supportive people can be.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus true, honest and good.

Acquaintances comes and go, but true friendship is forever.  My friends … they are my family.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.

I’m really happy with the way my weekend turned out given a horrible beginning.  Hanging with friends and making new ones is always a good thing.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

Check out this blog post… That’s the true meaning of a “devoted mother.”

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.

No matter what happens, I’ll get through it.  I’m a tough little bastard like that.  And when other people need me, I’m right there with ‘em.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

Even when my give-a-damn factor is bottomed out, where circumstances are completely beyond my control, sometimes I wish there was something I could do to help.  Like now … I wish I could wave my hand and go, “All that stuff your going through?  It’s over.  It never happened.  Neat, eh?”  Unfortunately, cancer just isn’t one of those things.

Instead, you do what you can in your own way.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

Now it’s your turn.

You can take part in The Monday Melee, even make it a regular feature at your site by visiting The Monday Melee page and following the steps. Kick-start your brain on Mondays and meet other bloggers.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.

 I hate that there are some people in this life that take everything that happens to them seriously.  I guess you’d call them drama queens/kings.   These are the people that must have everything revolve around them.  These are the people who keep the shit stirred.  And if they don’t have their own shit stirring, they go and stir some for someone else… just to keep something going at all times. 

People like this need to be bitch-slapped.  Real problems are drama.  Not the fact that your lay of the day, whom you’ve found on an internet dating site, is seeing no less than 4 other people at the same time as you.  This is not drama.  This is poor judgement.

Real life drama is loosing a child.  Real life drama is wondering how you’re gonna pay the rent.  Real life drama is your car breaking down and having no money to fix it.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.

Paris Hilton.  I know it seems like I’m obsessing over her lately.  Maybe I am because I’m bored and have no real life of my own.  Regardless of that, the skank is totally a fake.  Just because she’s locked up in a cage, she’s claiming to have found Jesus.  She told Babs Walters that she’s been reading the Bible and other and a sorted variety of other religion-inspired books. 

First, I’m not so sure that after only 4 days in jail that the girl had time to read AND ABSORB enough information out of the inspired books.  Look, it takes biblical scholars years and years of reading and studying to make heads and/or tails of the Bible.  And she wants to convince all of us common folk that she’s really getting into it and learning something. 

B- Anybody who watches E! News (or Fox or CNN for that matter) has heard about the humongus “Paris is getting out of jail” bash that’s being planned.  Do you think that she’s gonna read enough about Jesus and righteous living that she’s not gonna turn up a bottle and get ripped?   Me either. 

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.

I’m extremely unhappy that I went outside on a scorching hot Sunday afternoon to wash my car.  I did a bang up job too.  I even cleaned the wheels with that crap that can eat the skin off of your hands.   It looked super great!

I went in the house to get a glass of ice water.  When I came back outside 10 minutes later a bird had already shit on the trunk.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

I give my kids credit today.  After all that he put them through while they were growing up, they still try to treat their dad with some sort of love and respect.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.

I am coming out of “sloth” mode and getting motivated to do something and be somebody again.  Which actually feels really, really good.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

I think I’ll wish for sex this week.  Sex and days off from work.  Sex, days off from work and a new car.  Sex, days off from work, a new car and to win the lottery. 

Sex, days off from work, a new car, to win the lottery, and lots of beer.  Yah, that would make today alot of fun.  Sex, on my extra day off, in my new car that I got with my winnings from the lottery which was sponsered by a beer company.

Yah, that’s it.

Now it’s your turn.

You can take part in The Monday Melee, even make it a regular feature at your site by visiting The Monday Melee page and following the steps. Kick-start your brain on Mondays and meet other bloggers.

My household is short one member this morning.  My daughter is super sad. 

I woke up around 1-ish this morning and the livingroom lights were on.  I rounded the corner to find my child, her boyfriend and my new son sitting around looking extremely sad.

My first instinct was to be pissy because the boyfriend was still here.  Then I figured by the solemn expression on each face that something indeed was troubling them.

(taking a diaper the grandson break…. DEAR LORD the smell)

The next thing I noticed was the lizard’s habitat was not in the girl’s bedroom, but in the livingroom with the depressed looking children.  I was told the lizard was passing into the next life.  Immediately, I was transported into late night depression too.

FLASHBACK:  “Mom, we’re goin out to catch lightnin bugs,” my daughter said.

They came in and went to the bedroom, where the lizard habitat is housed, lightning bug contraption in tow.  Out of the bedroom I hear them giggle as the lizard must have been performing tricks to get the treat.

Lizards eat bugs, that’s nature.  So, they figured since it would jump across its home to get a cricket, it would jump in the air to get a flying critter. 

They finish feeding it 3 of the luminescent delicacies. And put in a movie.  That’s when I went off to bed.

BACK TO THE NOW:  So, whilst Diva slept, the lizard was becoming very ill.  By the time I woke up, it was too late.  They had looked it up on teh internets.  Fireflies are TOXIC and not to be ingested by any other living creature. 

We will be burying Joey today.  Out back.  Next to the rat that didn’t make it through baby rat birth.

I suppose in order to ease her sadness, I’ll wait a day or two and go get her another reptilian playmate.  We’ll try a snake this time I think.

The way he wakes up, always with a smile on his face.

The way he calls out my name, and reaches for me to come hold him tight.

The way he follows me, like I’m the leader,  leading him somewhere important.

The way he holds my hand, together facing this big, scary world.

The way he tries to explain to me, the things that are important in his little universe.

The way he bats his eyes at me, because he knows it melts my heart.

The way he snuggles up against me, like I am the one who can keep him safe.

The way he leads me here and there, discovering together what lies in the back yard.

The way he sits on the front porch with me, drinking tea, and watching the trucks go by.

The way he looks at his plate and then at mine when we sit down to eat. How he decides that his plate is just not good enough, and he just has to share mine instead.

The way he laughs out loud, when I nuzzle him under his chin.

The way he looks up at me with his big eyes,  knowing he’ll find reassurance that it will all be just fine.

The way he rubs his eyes and crawls up in my lap when he’s sleepy, makes me feel as safe as he feels with me.

The way he acts like a big man when he’s only a tiny boy, but he must act like his Papa no matter what.

The way he has filled my life with a special joy and happiness like I’ve never known, tears my heart down to the basics and helps me realize what true love really is.

You can tell I’m a Nana.  My grandson Tyler is two years old today.  That little boy has taught me more about life and love than any other lesson I’ve ever had.

     I snorted coffee through my nose watching Knoxville’s Number One Son…

Tip: Thanks, Laura!

     Not that I particularly give a damn about Banana Nicole and her Company of Conniving Clowns, I did have a conversation last week about the unfortunate fact that “that poor Dannielynn” was surely going to end up with one of them.
     Fracas did a pretty in-depth editorial about that very situation:

The real issue in the whole Anna Nicole Smith mess, is whether or not baby Dannielynn is cared for properly and has a chance at a better life.

And make no mistake, by “better”, I mean more normal, not wealthier.

…

It is doubtful, as to whether Anna had the presence of mind to properly care for her baby, to make decisions for her baby or to decide who else is appropriate and worthy enough to have the right to care for or make decisions on behalf of her baby.

Yet Stern would like for the world to think it should be him.

We know that Stern has been alleged by several other parties, to be “controlling”. While much of what Larry Birkhead and Virgie Arthur have to say is their opinion only, unsubstantiated in some cases, we do have the video of him taping a stoned Anna. …

     It doesn’t strike me as odd in the least that Stern, an entertainment lawyer, might be a gigantic prick. I mean, it’s obvious he uses his tie to hold up his foreskin.