Half Way

So far so good on the Zoom Ways, more commonly known as the Interstates. Only hit stop-and-go gridlock once between Memphis and Little Rock. The high-speed gridlock, where the same pack of vehicles leap frog with one another for hundreds of miles, was pretty intense the entire way, but I decided the easier navigation was worth the price of the added stress. In my usual driving style, the journey is the thing and I don't find my efficiency in rushing past all the good stuff, but I am feeling quite destination-oriented on this unusual drive. The coveted Grand Time awaits. It has been almost a year since I have seen them and a year is a long time in the lives of toddlers. GS's 5th birthday is in July. I think he has officially graduated a phase or three past toddler. I amnae up-to-date on today's progress charts, so I willnae even attempt reciting those measures, but a year is still 25% of a four-year-old's life. It is substantial. With Gampy's guidance, he is one Skyping fool. Our Skype sessions help me feel like we are still bonded.

A year is 50% of GD's life. How much can she remember from half a lifetime ago? She was doing her first experiments with words and walking independantly when I last partied her at best-beloved-sis's house. Skype still mystifies her but her Daddy tells me she snatches the phone away from him and dances with it when I sing her custom songs with her name in them. I amnae sure she will recognize my person after 50% of her life, but at least I know she remembers her songs.

Anxiety is roaring over the assumed babysitter protocols from the parent's of The Grands. To my Monster-in-law senses, they have only grown more confusing since the MIL/DIL Blowout in June, 2015. The only progress I have seen in that arena is that Hubs has backed off on attacking me for the actions of parental units who are beyond my control while the other while the GK's cower in the corner at the big words wrapped in angry tones. Yes, Sir, I have noticed that it stresses everybody out to have two children all dressed up with no place to go. I agree, Sir, it would be nice to receive courtesy calls. Sir, yes Sir and Sir some more. You are thowing mud pies at the choir. . . Please remember that this particular choir member specializes in literal mud pies. I don't design them as weapons, but I'm one hell of a make-do artist.

Somewhere's around the time the parental units suffered their double psych hospitalization Hubs began the shift from the always busy Head Critic to the Gamp of my Gam. He began to soothe crying children in place of expostulating on the source of their tears. The Grand Parties were born. Different by an attitude. Attitude counts in my beaten crazy bitch wolf senses.

During my pre-takeoff string of deliberately provacative phone calls with Hubs, my confidence in our progress felt reasonably well validated. Reasonably. I think. . . I almost believe. . . Prayers in progress. . . Visions of cowering with the GK's while the other 5 grown-ups expostulate in angry tones continue to dance in my head.

I am grateful for this night of rest and replenishment here in the Ouchita Mountains near the gentle Ouchita River. No, I amnae going to slow down enough to soak in one of the nearby hot springs bubbling out of the mountain depths or scout the banks of the Ouchita, but I am comforted to know they are there. Next time, my friends.

Time to get Boy Toy loaded. . .