This name takes the cake

So..... I talked to a friend of mine today. Got the update on the divorce (blah, blah, blah. Nothing new there.) BUT we also talked about his sister being pregnant. A couple things: She's high risk pregnancy because of something with her heart when she was little, and they pretty much expect her to be on bedrest the last 2 months. They spent $45,000 (!!!) trying to get pregnant. It's a boy and they HAD a name picked out for him, but everyone gave them so much greif about it that they picked a different name and won't tell anyone what it is. Want to know the original name? Bazzle. Like Bazzle from Austin Powers. Yeh. Why doesn't she just kick the kids ass everyday before he goes to school and save everyone the trouble?

Knuckle

Here's my train of thought: I have a bruise on the knuckle of my wedding ring finger. Don't know how it got there, but it's not pretty. Which led me to think of a game we used to play when we were kids. A very stupid, time-wasting, painful game called Bloody Knuckles. Which in turn led to me thinking about stupid, time-wasting, sometimes painful "games" that my boys play. I call them "Let's see who's gonna cry first". For some reason they fail to see that when they are wrestling, and neither of them knows when to quit, someone is going to cry. It blows my mind that they are surprised every time when one of them ends up getting hurt, yet daddy and I can see it coming from a mile away.

I have a feeling that I'm getting ready to step on a few toes with this one (Oh goody!). For years other religions and their traditions and rules have baffled me. Jehovah's Witnesses and the Catholic church alone boggle my mind. Most of the time I look at other religion's habits with bemusement, but recently I have come across a religious rule that truly confuses me. A couple of kids that I've taken on for the summer are not allowed to eat anything with gelatin because it comes from pigs which is a clove hoof animal which is associated with the devil. (I think I should probably point out a few things: 1.) I can't remember specifically what religion they are. Their mom told me, but I forgot. 2.) Russ and I attend an Assemblies of God church. And 3.) I GET the origin of the "cloven hoof" animal thing.)

Expanding on point 3: Like I said, I get it. Cloven hoof, devil has cloven feet. Gotcha. And I know that certain religions can't eat pork products because of this. Here's what I'm having trouble with-- these kids can't eat Jello or fruit snacks. Maybe it's because I have yet to meet a kid who doesn't like Jello or fruit snacks. Or maybe it's because I consider Jello and fruit snacks a integral part of childhood. I don't know.

Actually, the more I think about it, it's not the fact that they can't eat gelatin products. I can file that into the can't-eat-bacon-and-pork-chops category. Here's what I have trouble with: these little kids (6 and 9) believe that they will go to hell if they eat fruit snacks. Really??? Not, "It's frowned upon." "It's just not a good idea." or "It will give you gas.", but "You will go to hell." I can't wrap my mind around that! And surely I can't be the only one. You can't tell me that God cares if kids eat fruit snacks.

I suppose I'll just have to resign myself to the fact that different religions have different beliefs and we all have to be tolerant and accepting. But, apparently, the kids and I are bound for hell because we love fruit snacks.

For years Fran and I have called each other Clairee (her) and Weeza (me). She is Clairee because she is the pretty, put-together, Southern Belle and I am Weeza (actually spelled Ouiser in the movie) because I plan on being an old, crotchity woman who hates everyone =) We have signed emails, letters and birthday cards this way forever. Now she is battling cancer. Again. She is a breast cancer survivor, but now it's back and it's in her liver, spine, and lymphnodes. She was taking agressive chemo, but the side effects were kicking her ass and having no "good" affect. Since it wasn't doing any good they decided to stop and now it's just a waiting game as to when her liver will give out.

It's a whole different ballgame watching a grandparent go downhill (my grandma passed away a few months ago) and watching a best friend go downhill. She is my age, married to a great guy, has 2 daughters who are 4 aqnd 6, one of which is a special needs child. She is a sister, a daughter, a stepmom, a grandma, a friend, a church goer, a Navy vet, and one of the best people I know. The unfairness of it all is hard to comprehend.

While everyone else was out enjoying beer, BBQ's, and boating this Memorial Day weekend I was staying at her house trying to soak up every possible minute with her. All the while sharing her with 13 other people who were visiting and trying to spend time with her. I was sure we'd have to install a Take-a-Number machine outside her bedroom door. Everyone's heart is breaking.

All these years she was Clairee and I was Weeza. I'll probably still become Weeza with multiple husbands, ungrateful children and a dog who's hair is falling out, but how was I to know that in the end, even though she still embodies Clairee......she's actually Shelby.

Well, while everyone else was enjoying boats, bbqs, and beer this weekend I got to go to Indiana ans watch my best friend slowing dying on cancer. She's my age