I'm CERTAIN I DON'T KNOW for CERTAIN :)

Well, I've had almost 36 hours of Royal Weddingmania.  As a precautionary measure, just to ensure I wouldn't miss a thing, Bitsy set two (2) channels to record on one television and two (2) channels to record in the bedroom, got up at 3:30 a.m. to watch it first hand and just deleted the last of the recordings a few minutes ago.  I quite certainly have watched all I can watch (for today anyhow).  One thing I learned in my hours upon hours of viewing is just how much I don't know~for certain.  I don't know, for certain, that William or Kate won't read this blog.  I don't know, for certain, that William or Kate, won't find it so amazingly witty and edgy that they won't feel compelled to seek me out, beg me to come live in the palace with them and document their life, and their children's lives, and their grandchildren's lives.  I don't know that this won't happen for certain.

Sometimes it's easier to think about what you don't know than what you do.

Take for example, I don't know for certain that this new little business I'm working on won't be successful and I won't find a need to find a "real job", you know another "let me suck the life and soul from a person" office job.  I don't know that, but I hope I don't have to "have the soul sucked out of me on a day-to-day basis"  see the interior of a cubicle ever again.

Take for another example, I don't know for certain that Baxter (our bathroom challenged canine child) won't decide that he has seen the error of his ways and decide he likes to use the toilet in the spare bathroom.  I don't know he won't take a fancy to the notion and be the model pet for the remainder of his and/or my born days.

Let me share a shining example of something else I don't know for certain.  I don't know for certain that I'll continue being 483 miles away from the Webbman for the rest of my born days.  I don't know for certain that I'll always bear the indescribable heartache of being 483 miles away from he and his family every day.  I don't know for certain that this Bitsy will ALWAYS be a long distance grandmom and have her heart ripped out of her chest daily at the thought of what the Webbman is doing that she is missing.  I don't know that.  I know with absolute certainty that I don't WANT this insurmountable distance to dictate my relationship with my grandbaby.  I don't know for certain that Kelly Services won't offer "Precious" and the Lil Momma a "to die for promotion, like "King of Kelly Services or Grand Poo Pah of Kelly Services" and that they won't be living back here in Atlanta next month.  I don't know that for certain.  I don't know that my hubby won't wake up tomorrow and realize that his father is 80 something, that his entire family lives 483 miles away (as does his wife's) and that he doesn't want to open a branch office for his business here in Atlanta in Hancock County, MS where we could live and/or die happily ever after.  We do not KNOW that for certain. 

See, now, maybe ya'll understand why it's SO important to pinpoint the things YOU don't KNOW for certain.  It's life's little uncertainties that give us hope . . . . . . . . . that's for CERTAIN.

One last thing this Bitsy DOES knows for certain is "I love this lil man beyond words".  THIS I KNOW for CERTAIN.

My Bitsy loves me, that's FOR CERTAIN.

Bitsy's Lifelong Dream , One ticket to London please and the clock is ticking-(Big Ben, that is)!

This Bitsy has had 3 really big dreams in her life.  The first was to marry and raise the perfect child (Done).  Secondly, to have said perfect child be healthy, happy, attend and graduate college, marry at some point in here life, experience her dream job, and have her own perfect child (children), thereby facilitating the perfect grandchild (grandchildren) for "Bitsy".  (Done).  Well, my third big dream.  It hasn't proved so easy, however I see a window of opportunity right here in front of me, but that windows closing fast. . . . . . . . Wish Webb's Bitsy Luck. 

Well, THE wedding is tomorrow morning.  I woke up this morning and realized, this Bitsy has got alot to do.  It's never too late to realize your dreams . . . . . right?  I have less than 24 hours to fulfill my life long dream of marrying a prince, living the remainder of my life as a princess and have celebrity access to an unlimited supply of hats, tea and yep, crumpets.  While some of you may think it's a lost cause, this Bitsy has DVR'd just enough Desperate Housewives, Real Housewives of Atlanta and D.C. and then of course, there's the Bachelorette.  Anyone with any amount Housewives knowledge and know how, knows how to catch a prince.  It's a well known fact that it can take less than a minute to fall head over heels in love. With the royal wedding on tomorrow, all Bitsy needs to do is "fine tune" her plan  Here goes - no major obstacles, just have to persevere.  I mean I'm thinking of the Webbman too.  He's never far from my plan.  A royal step grandchild should be eligible for lots of perks!

1. Discuss w/the hubby.  He's very understanding.  The fact I'm married should  really be a "non-issue".
2. Meet "Prince William" in some kind of unexpected way. (Kroger, the Library, Circle K?)
3. Research to see if Royals shop at Kroger/read/pump gas.
4. If not, research how to get position as royal scullery maid. Obtain hubby job as royal scullery man.  Work extremely hard to keep our relationship "secret".  Royals KNOW how to do this.  No problem.
5. Contact previous employers to obtain references for scullery maid job application. 
6. Upon meeting, captivate Prince with healthy curves that look way cuter than that Middleton thing's crazy diet body.
7. Acquire healthy curves. (New boobs, tummy tuck, a little lipo - last resort - several pair of SPANKS
8. Start Facebook campaign to raise money to cover last minute surgery and/or life time supply of spanks.
9. Once Prince is drooling appropriately, dazzle him with knowledge of fancy teas and ability to make scones, and of course introduce him to his new scullery man.
10. Research fancy scones and teas.
11. Spend amazing day roaming the streets of London, feeding each other scones.
12. Practice sexy scone-eating, they're a little dry.
13. Almost kiss in front of Big Ben, but get stopped by loud chime just before our lips meet.
14. Break it off (despite Prince's vehement protests) in order to save his good name.
15. Catch that Middleton troll cheating with someone Irish or American. Maybe one of each?
16. Show up at Buckingham Palace to warn Will about Kate, but immediately decide to leave, saving him pain/embarrassment, BUT on way out stop to save Queen from tripping down stairs, catching her in pillow-y new breasts, gaining her favor and causing enough commotion to make Prince run downstairs and see me running out the door (Gate? Drawbridge?), leaving behind a shoe.
17. Run part shoeless (16b. bring extra shoes!) to Big Ben to find Prince, playing Elton John on boom box.
18. Keep detailed notes (blog? tweets?) about all this so can sell rights for tell-all book to be optioned as Lifetime movie, should Will decided to go back to that skinny party piece.
18. In case of amicable break-up, crash get invited to Will and Kate's rescheduled wedding, so I can meet Harry.   I mean Harry is a real possibility.  It's not always a bad thing to be second choice.
19. Start on backup plan re:  Harry.

Well ya'll, you may not hear from me to the weekend.  I'm going to be busy . . . . . royally busy beginning right NOW! Good day.

If SHE can't keep track of a DOG, what makes HER think SHE can handle a grandbaby?

My reputation precedes me sometimes, and in many cases it's not such a good thing.  I've talked at length in previous posts about how difficult I've found it "adapting" to this "sea of inhumanity" they call Atlanta.  Meeting new people and making friends hasn't seemed as easy as it has in years gone by.  Sure, church is a good way to meet folks, but even church folk fall short on the friend-0-meter sometimes up here.  Anyhow, we live in what they call a "Country Club (Golf and Swim) Community up here.  Sounds luxurious, doesn't it?  Well, most of my "meet and greet" activities over the last two years have transpired over a conversation that evolved around one question "How are you and Have you seen my DOG?"  I am pretty sure that the majority of our subdivision residents see me coming and go "Oh My Holy Jesus - Here comes "that woman" again, the one that can't keep track of her DOG!"  If I were them, I'd think it..  My thought process on the subject, that is until we had "Baxter", went something like this . . . . . . "If you have pets, take care of them. They're a commitment."  These comments echo in my brain . . "If this woman can't keep up with a little white dog . . . . how did she manage children?  How does she manage grandchildren?"  Well, while the jury is still out on the grandchildren, I seem to have done rather well on the "children" end.  I've spent a great deal of time over the last 2 years reflecting and questioning our ownership skills of our adorable spunky little white wire haired schnauzer.  We inherited him, and all the joys that came with him.  Problem is I'm beginning to believe there's a definite need for multiple visits from Cesar Millan here at Bitsy's house.  I'm really wondering if the Dog Whisperer has a "scholarship program" for "underprivileged" dogs.  I believe Cesar should at least contemplate this concept, if he doesn't have one!  At any rate, with Baxter, it seems, there is nothing about him that is trained, nor trainable.  On the many occasions when we have had a prison break, he travels with all the tenacity of a greyhound.  He takes off at a clip that would challenge any respectable race horse.  I really should consider DNA testing because he may just test positive for "Secretariat" bloodline.  He never misses an opportunity to escape.  He'll bust out of windows, taking the screen with him.  He'll take running leaps as unsuspecting visitors enter our front door.  He'll squeeze out of spaces that even ants would tout as challenges!   For a year or so, every time he got out, I cried and moped, we would pass out hundreds, yes hundreds of fliers with his face on them.  You know, the stereo typical "Have you seen this dog" thing.  We've come short of placing his face on a milk carton, but it's been tempting.  Thankfully, we've always been pretty good detectives and he has lived through all of his great escapes . . . . . so far, that is.

No, he's not "busting loose" because of the wreath!

I reflect alot on what it is that makes an animal "who has it made" want to "run away from home"?  We're alot more conscious now for his propensity to "run", but still, Baxter "busts loose" about once a month.  Today, as we walked down the cart path, past one of his favorite "bathroom stops", it hit me.  There is nothing wrong with his thought process.  It is, in all likelihood, MINE, that is seriously flawed. I guess everybody has had a moment when they wanted to just "run away".  It's not so "abnormal".  After all, "running away" can sometimes lead to "coming home".  Right?

One of Baxter's favorite spots - the sun comes in through the front window and he "SUNS" himself.
  That is when he's not on the lam!

Growing up, there was an amazing post light at the end of our driveway.  We had this long narrow driveway and that post light seemed to beckon us home, to a safer place.  It didn't matter how young or how old we were, the post light just seemed to be home base.  That post light stayed on, just like the front porch light did until all family members were present and accounted for.  I've never really given much thought to the post light on 224 Felicity Street until today.  That post light was even the place I went when I was little and felt the whole world had discriminated against me ( or at least "my portion" of the world)!  With my bottom lip extended . . . . just pouty enough to get the message across, I'd hike on out to the post light and do my version of "running away from home".   The Murphy Family post light, just far enough away to "think" but not so far away from the "comfort zone".  The Murphy Family post light . . . . a place where my siblings and I could go and "regroup" just long enough to realize how very special that house we sat and stared at was.  As the dining room light came on and my Dad made it home from work, my stomach would rumble just a little.  Just about the time I'd be reconsidering how appealing the "running away from home" decision truly was, my Mom would send dinner out, with my Dad to tell me it would be getting dark soon and if I wasn't going to come in, to at least stop by for a flashlight, a sheet and a pillow.  That usually did the trick. 

Anyhow, this Bitsy is working hard on curbing Baxter's excursions.  Even I am wondering if I can't keep track of a little white dog, maybe the Lil Momma and Precious may have concern about Bitsy keeping track of the Webbman! I'm thinking The Turcotte Family of Atlanta may just need a Murphy Family post light at the end of our driveway, a home base of sorts for Baxter.  I'm hoping that Baxter will get find that "lovin' feeling" if we "leave the light on" .  You know kind of like Motel 6!



Good Night Moon, "R" Ratings, & Go the !#@* to Sleep

Warning.  As a courtesy, and out of reverence for my little precious, the Webbman and, in light of my sacred role as a "Bitsy", I feel compelled to let all of you know that portions of today's blog may be considered "R" — Restricted. Children Under 17 Require Accompanying Parent or Adult Guardian.  This R-rated blog, in the view of Bitsy's Rating Board, contains some adult material. An R-rated blog may include adult themes, adult activity, hard language, intense or persistent violence, sexually-oriented nudity, drug abuse or other elements, so that parents are counseled to take this rating very seriously. Children under 17 are not allowed to attend R-rated motion pictures unaccompanied by a parent or adult guardian. Parents are strongly urged to find out more about R-rated blogs in determining their suitability for their children. Generally, it is not appropriate for parents to bring their young children with them to read R-rated blogs.  So, on that note, here we go . . . . . "We're Off to the Races".  I figure that's appropriate since the following information is kind of "racey" :)

I suppose everyone has their own "very favorite bedtime story".  Bedtime stories have a way of delivering special memories, feelings of warmth and last but not least "heavy eyelids" to all our "favorite lil ones".  This Bitsy has several that brought many a good night's sleep for both the Lil Momma and for Bitsy!  My favorite is probably Margaret Wise Brown's "Good Night Moon".  If you haven't read it, you should.  I'll do my best to sum it up, but believe me . . . . a few sentences can't do it justice.  IN A GREAT GREEN ROOM, tucked away in bed, is a little bunny. "Goodnight room, goodnight moon." And to all the familiar things in the softly lit room--to the picture of the three little bears sitting in chairs, to the clocks and his socks, to the mittens and the kittens, to everything one by one--the bunny says goodnight. In this classic, the quiet poetry of the words and the gentle, lulling illustrations combine to make a perfect book for the end of the day.  While "Good Night Moon" is AMAZING, and I've already read it a number of times aloud to my our lil Webbguy, there was always that occasion when the Good Night Story just didn't work. No matter the lullaby, the good night story, the gentle snugly "rock", sometimes our lil ones just don't want to call it a night.  They just don't want to "give it up for the sandman"!  I don't know why nobody has gotten around to embracing the manufacture of some type of  "Pediatric Ambien".  As a Bitsy, I would certainly CONSIDER the investment possibilities in it!  Of course, as a "Bitsy", I would NEVER condone or recommend any such thing, but I certainly wouldn't condemn someone for exploring their options.  I'm fairly confident, however, that I'm not the only parent or grandparent who has had the briefest of thoughts just once, or maybe twice, that the Pediatric Ambien route may not be such a bad thing! 

As much as I adore "Good Night Moon" and the traditional Good Night Story, today I found an alternative.  No, it's not a replacement for Good Night Moon.  It's not Pediatric Ambien.  It's an ADULT Good Night Story which truly can only be appreciated by Parents (new, old, expectant), Grandparents, Aunt, Uncles, or Godparents.  I'll recommend it and hold my breath that each of you will find some humor, albiet off color, within it's pages.  It appears to have the potential for "I PEED MYSELF" funny classification.  That's the best way I know to describe it.  The Author has obviously experienced his own share of sleepless nights during his parenting stint.  It is affectionately titled "Go the F#@k To Sleep" and  is a bedtime story for those who live among human beings, not rabbits, right here in the real world, where a few ponies, some adorable snoozing kitties and cutesy rhyming words don't always work in lulling our little pipsqueaks off to a blissful dreamland. I'd say this book is sometimes painfully truthful, amazingly affectionate, and yep, a has potential to be a tad bit profane.  The author and the illustrator  seem to have the ability to capture the obvious and even the "not so obvious" trials and tribulations of putting your little squirt down for a good night's sleep!  However, irreverent, it somehow validates what we've all felt at some point when trying to get our angels to bed.  I can't wait to buy it, in fact, it may be Bitsy's Mother's Day present to herself!!

Here is a sample verse:

The cats nestle close to their kittens now.
The lambs have laid down with the sheep.
You're cozy and warm in your bed, my dear
Please go the f@#k to sleep.

It's NO "Good Night Moon-in some ways, It's BETTER!



Underwear Sales Are Rising, The Lipstick Indicator & How Short is That Skirt?

Today, ya'll are going to walk away from "Bitsy's Bits" with a whole new admiration of my analytical skills.  You will be amazed what Economics 101 and 102 my sophmore year did to enhance my college education. Webb's "Bitsy" did not walk out of those classes with A's for nothing!  I don't think it's a coincidence that the same week I decide to venture into a business of my own, I discover that stock shares of Hanesbrands, Warnaco, Limited and Maidenform are thriving, and that more than one (that would mean two) analysts see higher underwear sales as a sign the economy is recovering.  This makes perfect sense, after all ~ "Hanes Makes You Feel Good All Under", Right?  Apparently, the theory is that in times like these, folks won't go spend money on trendy fashion statement type clothes, but they'll spend money on good basic "tightie whiteys". (These have to be replaced, right,~I mean how many of you have husbands that grab up every pair of drawers in their drawer (I like that "drawers in their drawer" :)), throw all 24 pairs out and run to Sam's and buy 24 brand new shining white replacements?  It's kind of a right of passage with the adult male.  This has always struck me as a little odd, because anybody with any sense would purchase the new panties FIRST and throw the old ones out after you were CERTAIN you had replacements!

This clip is from 2008 when sales were DOWN,

but I read today that SALES were up, so things are looking up for Bitsy.

I mean I just didn't "jump in blind" to this business endeavor.  I've thought alot about how I wanted to spend the remainder of my life.  I mean if I can't support myself by just being in constant awe and amazement of the Lil Man, I'd like to do something that he can get some enjoyment out of!  What could I do that would bring some form of satisfaction and pleasure.  I'm working on that as you read, BUT on that note, apparently these economic indicators are like mega important stuff!

I have been watching carefully all the important indicators.  Being the thorough person that I am, BESIDES the "Tightie Whitey" market, I've been carefully observing the "Lipstick Market".  I've discovered that the "Lipstick Indicator" is also a pretty solid means of keeping a handle on knowing when the economy is improving.  This "solid time tested economic theory" is based on the idea that when individuals feel uncertain about the future, they turn to less-expensive luxuries, most notably vanity items such as lipstick. The trend suggests that lipstick sales increase during a recession or times of economic uncertainty. The use of lipstick has also been suggested to be a “mood enhancer,” which understandably functions to lift spirits during tough economic times.  I made a quick "lipstick assessment" today in my makeup bag, and it seems, although I wasn't aware of it,  I obviously may have been extremely depressed over the last few years, and should probably consider medication.  It may be cheaper than the multiple shades of pink that stare gazingly at me ranging in name from "Baby's Butt Blush" to "Cotton Candy Drool" and on the darker spectrum, the many shades of red, like "Blood Bank Rose", "Catsup's Catty Desire", "Hotter Than Hades" and "Too Red to be Dead".   Yep, the economic factors are definitely on Bitsy's side.

One last little pearl of wisdom.  I've also been tracking what is most often referred to as the "Aspirin Count Indicator".  Yes, you probably guessed it. When times are tough, headaches abound… and aspirin sales go up! The idea is that, as a lagging indicator, stock prices and aspirin sales are inversely related. So, when the sales of aspirin go up, the market goes down. This is generally considered to be more of a humorous theory than a concrete strategy, but with the number of headaches that I get, it sounds like a pretty solid theory to me. 

One other little tidbit that seems to keep raising it's little head is called the "Hemline/Skirt Length Indicator".  This theory is one of those "etched in historical stone and cannot be reputed type things" :).  It hints that the direction of the economy could be predicted based on the average length of hems in that year's new fashion lines.  If skirts are short, markets are on the rise.  If skirts are long, markets are headed downward.  The thought process is that longer skirts are worn when consumer confidence is low, demonstrating fear and a general lack of spending.  When skirts are short, consumer optimism is high indicating that "bull/cattle" Merrill Lynch type of thing is going on!  This is the one indicator that isn't really "generally accepted".  Major Fashion shows like NYC's Fashion week do provide a unique perspective into the global mindset, where you have designers from around the world working independently coming together to show that year's designs.  The designs always seem to be in part influenced by the economy and culture surrounding those designers.  I haven't paid much attention to skirt length in my decision to move forward with my venture, but the "aspirin indicator", it seems is "right on the money, HONEY".   I'm kind of hoping that I start seeing girls prancing around with their rears hanging out this year when normally I'm more of a moderate hemline kind of girl!

This MAY be an omen that this Bitsy has chosen the right time to fling open her "entrepreneurial"  doors.  What more could a customer want than a proprietor whose lips beckon their business with "Come Hither Hoochie" or I just found some NARS "Red Lizard".  That may just do the trick.

Tomorrow, I'll share Easter pictures of the Webbman,  and his Easter loot.  I guess I'll put a "teaser" photo up, so I can be "certain" to see ya'll tomorrow.  I mean who could resist this face?  We all know that Bitsy can't!  I'll tell ya'll more about the business to as things come together!  Thanks for reading.

2011 Easter - the Webbman doing what he does BEST . . . . being africkindorable!



Lent is NOT Just for Belly Buttons, McKenzie & Ansley, & Freedom of Religion.

Happy Easter to ya'll.  This Bitsy could not have had a better Easter day!  We are headed to spend the afternoon with two of our grandbabies (my hubby's grand-daughters) and their lovely Momma.  I have to talk about them just for a few minutes.  McKenzie and Ansley are truly breathtakingly beautiful little pipsqueaks.  They are bright, well behaved and just alot of fun.  We are blessed to have them here in Atlanta with us and blessed that their Momma is so sharing of her time with their PawPaw and I.  Ask them "Who Loves Them?"  Their PawPaw has them TRAINED.  They say "PAW PAW does!"   Then he prompts them again.  "How Much?" he asks, and of course, they respond "Too Much".  It's a given, EVERY time.

McKenzie & Ansley being adorable.  It comes naturally!

This morning I was awaken by my sweet hubby with a heaping cup of coffee in bed.  I sat up, propped my pillows up and sipped away and read the morning headlines.   As I read, the more I thought about how blessed we are every day of our lives - for so many reasons - but today I'm talking about being blessed to be an American.  Being blessed to live in a Nation where we are free to believe in God and to practice our faith.  Heck we are so free, we can believe not to believe.  It's all just OK.   Never does the luxury of that ability to practice hit home more than on Easter Sunday.  The first thing I saw as I read was the headline plastered across the paper:  "Church: Police block Beijing Easter Service".    http://www.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/asiapcf/04/24/china.easter.crackdown/index.html?hpt=T2  It truly hit me like a freight train that everyone in the world can't get up and enjoy an Easter Morning Service.  For that matter, they can't "openly" express any type of belief in a greater being, in God, Allah, whoever it is that you believe in.

It's Easter here in America and we ARE free to talk about our faith.  We are free to believe whatever we like as long as it doesn't harm anyone.  We can even "advertise" our beliefs.  We can advertise that we don't believe!  So on this Easter morning 2011, I'd like to share a few church signs with each of you.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I did as I read them.

Bitsy was looking for a "pattern"  Something that I may be able to grab hold to and peg whether one group of Christians were more "clever and humorous" than another congregation.  Can't do it.  It appears to me that the Baptist, Lutherin, Presbyterians and non-denominational get the award for being most creative.  We "Catholics", WELL . . . . seems we need to get with the program!

Bitsy's Faberge Egg, What the heck is a chocolate "BILBY" and It's Easter, not Halloween guys!



My Little Faberge' Egg - Isn't he beautiful?



Well, it's almost Easter Sunday.  In lots of countries, Peter Rabbit has already done his job.  He's hidden the baskets and is "hopping" on to his next stop.   I love Easter!  It's an important religious and spiritual time to most of us, and a celebration!  On a more personal note, I've also always used it as a very valid reason to eat my weight in ham, candied yams, potato salad, Reese's eggs and of course PEEPS!  It makes me stop and take pause to celebrate Spring and I'm able to justify wearing pastel shirts with bunnies on them.  I think we all get caught up in the Easter egg hunts, making sure the bunny has his "bunny" food and filling baskets full of all that gooey chocolaty goodness!  Traditions run rampant, but what holiday doesn't have it's share of tradition? Tradition certainly isn't anything new with us?  Right?

Well, on this Holy Saturday 2011, I thought I'd explore the traditions we don't hear of often at Easter, not the egg dyeing, bunny visiting, sugary marshmallow messes that we get so wrapped up in, but those others!  The ones that make us wonder . . . . .  "Is she REALLY talking about Easter"? Yep, I am!

I WANT MY CHOCOLATE BILBY???  While we gather around to watch the kids search for Easter eggs and celebrate Easter in awe of our beloved fluffy bunnies, Australians are promoting their native marsupial, the Bilby!  This little mini kangaroo looking rat, is their unofficial mascot of Easter. Apparently Australians have serious beef against rabbits and would rather not be reminded that this pest even exists. I don't know about ya'll, but this Bitsy thinks our friends down under are being a little harsh to my buddy, Peter Cottontail.

Everything you EVER wanted to KNOW about a chocolate BILBY but were afraid to ASK!

Look at them VERY good, they look like a cross between a possum, a kangaroo and a rat.

TRICK OR TREAT.  SMELL MY . . WAIT WHAT?  What could be stranger than "NO chocolate bunnies for Easter"?  Hmmmmmm, let's see what I can come up with.  Maybe the lil girls running around in witch costumes and their faces painted begging for candy?  Ya'll are thinking I have this mixed up with Halloween huh?  Nope, not if you're in Sweden!  In Sweden, Easter is associated with "Walpurgis Night, an age old hoopla that is highlighted with bonfires that serve to ward off evil spirits and chase them away.  Oddly, the bonfires supposedly ward off Judas (and witches too)! From what I've learned, it's apparently a whole lot like our Halloween.  Gosh, that absolutely wipes clean my mental image of a cotton candy pink and baby blue Easter party!

HANG EM' HIGH - LESS CLINT EASTWOOD :(  Likenesses or "effigies" of Judas don't stand a snowballs chance in hell in Greece, Spain, Portugal and Mexico. Many people actually hold a fake trial a few days before Easter, where they publicly hang a life size doll in public leaving it hung by the neck leading up until the Sunday celebration. Then they burn him. Some of the younger generations actually fill the dummy with fireworks. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THE 4TH OF JULY WOULD HAVE TO MOVE OUT OF THE WAY FOR EASTER - COMPLETE WITH LOTS OF THINGS THAT GO "BOOM"?

THE CHRISTMAS TREE BURNING AT EASTER?  Our German friends have a distinct tradition too.  They create an Easter fire out of the used Christmas trees from the previous winter. This one, I can do without.  I do not cherish the thought of sitting around a fire at the end of April in Atlanta, GA.  I just cannot participate due to my ongoing battle with hot flashes!  I think I'll have to bow out of this tradition!

BELLS THAT FLY LIKE SANTA?  In France, Netherlands and Belgium, legend has it that the bells of churches fly to Rome for a few days and only return on Easter morning. The flying bells are supposed to bring back colored eggs and chocolate rabbits, almost like a Santa Claus. This tradition supposedly started because all church bells are silent as a sign or mourning Jesus for several days before Easter.  Either way, it sounds a bit creepy that Santa Claus was replaced by massive metal bell

BEAT YOUR FAMILY FOR EASTER?  In Czechoslovakia during Easter week it’s good luck to beat your wife or the girl you fancy with a pomlázka, or a braided whip. While this may sound strange It’s not meant in a demeaning way or as an insult, in fact pomlázka, means “make young.” The idea behind the tradition is that anyone hit with the whip will be healthy and happy during the upcoming year.  NONE OF THIS SOUNDS VERY "EASTER-LIKE" or "LOVING" TO ME!



LET'S GATHER ROUND THE EASTER TREE!

This is some tree ain't it!



THE EASTER TREE? This tradition was started by a single family more than forty years ago. The Kraft family from Saalfeld, Germany started placing plastic eggs in a tree outside their house in 1965. The tradition has grown from only a handful of plastic eggs to include ornately handblown eggs.


I KNOW YA'LL WANT THE OFFICIAL FAMILY WEBSITE, SO HERE YOU GO: eierbaum-saalfeld.de.

I mean, I can't open my mouth since I always just took the Mardi Gras decorations off the Christmas tree and put up the Easter decorations.  The Lil Momma had a TREE FOR ALL OCCASIONS :)  Not entirely a bad idea!  The tradition is enjoyed by the whole town and if we can have a Christmas tree, why not have an Easter tree?

CANDIED YAMS, HAM & BARANEK WIELKANOCNY?????  I have left my favorite for last!  Baranek Wielkanocny is polish for butter lamb, which is exactly what it sounds like: a lamb conceived entirely out of butter. However, this is not just a decoration as people all around Poland actually consume the lamb on Easter.

The Lamb must always be present if a priest blesses the Easter meal and it should be consumed from the tail, leaving the head as last. I KNOW YA'LL WANT IT, SO HERE IS THE RECIPE JUST IN CASE YOU WANT TO ASSURE YOURSELF A FULL FLEDGED HEART ATTACK ON EASTER:  capnrons.com



Heart attack on a plate - Just Give me the Ham!

Well, I think that wraps up the traditions of other Country's for this year.  Let's take a vote and decide to keep our own.  Let's keep blowing up peeps in the microwave, Let's keep hiding Easter eggs, Let's keep eating so much chocolate that we get a little sick, and most importantly, Let's keep celebrating the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  As Christians, that's the very best part of Easter now, isn't it? And lastly, Let's keep enjoying this holiday for the fresh new start it is.  Gosh I love Easter, I mentioned that, right?

Happy Easter ya'll.



Mars Ain't the Kind of Place to Raise Your Kids, Lil Monsters & GooGoo for "GaGa"

I wish I knew how to rig this blog, so that whoever opened this page and  accomplished "Bitsy's Bit's" 4,000th page view could hear bells, whistles, sirens and, of course, would win an all expenses paid trip to Bay St. Louis, MS to meet the Webbman.  I'll let ya'll in on something.  I bet alot of you think a trip to Tahiti would be more fun, but you're wrong!  Yep, that's right, our little "grandma" blog has had over 3,992 page views in less than three (3) months.  For someone with an outwardly boring life, what the heck is so interesting?  I don't know and am trying to figure that out.  Anyhow, thank ya'll for reading it.  I'm having an awful good time!

    What will they wear to the Christening?

I read an article tonight that went on to explain that Elton John and his "partner", David Furnish, had chosen the Godmother for their little angel, Zachary.  Of course, at first, I was "catty" and "snarkie" and thought to myself . . . . Of course, they didn't choose Elton's next door neighbor of 43 years, or his sainted cousin twice removed, or David's sister or brother!  They chose Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, or "Lady Gaga" for short.  Of course, my mind went to "Flamboyancy breeds Flamboyancy".  "Lunacy breeds Lunacy", but then out of nowhere, the kinder gentler side that lurks somewhere within me, took over.  I thought, "Why WOULDN'T they chose Lady Gaga?  Who better to guide lil Zachary throughout the ins and outs of the music legacy that he will undoubtedly inherit from Elton?  She certainly could be the ONE.  Besides that, I like her.  Yes, I said it.  I like Lady Gaga. I actually like her quite alot!  Under all that "whatever it is", prosthetics or not, she's a young woman who adores her parents, a real person, with a passion for life.  I figure Lil Zachary's Life will NEVER be boring and between Elton and Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta,  he will certainly never be at a loss for things to talk about.  In that aspect, he and the Webbman MAY have something in common in years to come!

Obviously, Elton must have revisited his well sung theory on "Mars Ain't the Kind of Place to Raise Your Kids". 

Just to make sure I give equal performance time, Here is Lady Gaga, for your viewing pleasure, with Elton at the 2010 Grammy's :)  She is the bomb (which I realize nobody says anymore, but you know what I mean.)

I just need to add one thing.  Little Zachary doesn't have anything on our Lil Webbman in the Godmother department.  Our Lil Man has Aunt Allison and Aunt Rachel and I have no doubt, that they will keep him entertained as well, sans the prosthetics and the back-up singers :). 

Aunt Allison, the Lil Momma, Webbman and Aunt Rachel
Baptism, 3/2011

Question, Do you guys think she'll perform at the little get together after Zachary's Christening?  Just wondering. 

Granny, our "LOVE" Magnet, PawPaw "Pat", and the Rabbit Dance.

Our Family has surely been "blessed" in the Grandparent Department.  I believe that it's truly a testament to what wonderful grandparents they were, but the Lil Momma's grandparents are a tough act to follow.  In fact, I don't even try.  I figure there is NO WAY any of us could do it as well as they did.  I've asked myself many times, just what it was that endeared them so in our hearts?  We miss them everyday and see them in everything around us, but for me, it seems to be worse on holidays.  Whether I look at it as a sad thing or as an amazing thing, all the holidays are benchmarked.  There is something about each one that brings a warm feeling to my heart and that feeling is "in part" a result of something those grandparents orchestrated. 



The Webbman's Easter Bucket!
Yes, it needs some of the Lil Momma's organizational skills :)



As I was checking my list (As you know, I've mentioned I have to keep them), I marked off the Easter bucket with his Webb's name on it and all the contents.  I started picking up items back in February and enjoyed selecting every one.  There is a Baby Einstein DVD, there are little bathtub toys, wooden blocks, the traditional "Peter Rabbit" book, and a "to die for" chew toy.  I keep fighting the feeling that somehow, it's not enough.  So as I've battled the irrational, I've tried to examine why I feel this way.  I thought about Easter when I was young and when the Lil Momma was a child, examining all the things that came to be "tradition" in our holidays.  There are many, but the one that made me smile the biggest is probably an Easter Tale that evolves around my Dad, the Lil Momma's "PawPaw Pat". 

Every girl believes her Dad is special, and they are, for the exact reasons that follow.  As the Lil Momma grew up, we were blessed to live around the corner from my Dad.  As she and I made our trip home from school and work daily, my Dad (PawPaw Pat) would make it a point to be sitting outside on his front steps (see picture below) if for no other reason than to wave.  Can you imagine?  I never thought much about it til I passed his house after he passed away, and the steps were empty.  Thinking back, he must have arranged his entire day (and we're talking about a 70 year old man with an extremely busy "social schedule") to make it  home for 3:20, to make it to his "spot".  It's little, I know, but it really says alot.  I wish I had a hug for all the days when life just seemed too busy to stop as we honked and waved.  Oh there were many many days when we did, but for some reason, this Easter weekend, I can't help but think about the times, we didn't. Sadly, we don't get "do-overs" on that type of thing people.

Anyhow, one Easter morning when the Lil Momma was about 5, he called and asked us to run over before we started our Easter activities.  We piled in the car, drove around the block and there he sat~on his steps awaiting our visit.  The Lil Momma hopped out, ran to hug him and we followed.  He happily told her, with his wonderful boyish grin, that the Easter Bunny had been by his house and left a BIG MESS.  Of course, this peaked her interest, and ours!  In we go, through the front door, and there from one end of my Dad's living room, down his hallway to the spare bedroom, were "BUNNY PRINTS" strategically placed all over his beautiful hardwood floors.  Of course, the Lil Momma was thrilled to follow the bunny trail and find her Easter basket.  To this day, the mental picture of my Dad on his arthritic hands and knees using baby powder and placing his thumb in it to imprint perfectly on the floor forming these "picture" perfect Easter Bunny prints is simply too much.  He was an amazing father, an amazing grandfather, and I spend alot of time wishing he was here to know Webb.  Just a quick add-on.  My Dad was famous within our family for doing what he called, "The Bunny Dance".  He was not a shy person.  It was not an easy thing to do, in fact, none of us had the talent he had.  We grew up in amazement of how he managed it.  The Dance involved sitting on the floor, kicking your legs out and swatting your butt with your hands.  Hard to envision, I know, but I can assure you, had you seen it . . . . . . you would never forget!  Nonetheless, at 70, he was still "Bunny Dancing" for the Lil Momma and I am so blessed to have him on video to prove it.  I'm looking forward to an Easter when we can share the "Bunny Dance" with Webb. The Lil Momma's . . . . . PawPaw "Pat" . . . . . . what an amazing thing that those two words can invoke so many memories and so much joy!

On the opposite side of our family was "Granny".  I can't even begin to know where to start.   Granny was the type of Grandmother that everyone would choose for their child.  Truly, if I would have had an opportunity to hand pick someone to fill that role, I would have hand picked her.  My Mom passed away when I was 17, so at 24, Granny made her way into my life and she just stepped right into that role.  She was there at the hospital with us, she came home with us.  She was just always there for whatever moment there was.  She was there at the doctor with us, there when the Lil Momma didn't feel good.  She was our "Go To Girl", and she NEVER let us down.  Sure, there were plenty of occasions when we may not have seen eye to eye, but it was hard to be angry or upset with "Granny" because there was never any question of her motive.   There was never anything behind her actions but the love and adoration of her children and grandchildren.  Granny was the Grandmother who bought exactly for the Lil Momma JUST what we, as parents, WOULD NOT!  She bought the baby chicks, the hamsters, the kittens, the goat and lastly, but not least importantly, she made a point of buying the Lil Momma a little black cabbage patch baby doll to be ensure we "loved" everyone in our home.  She made certain that her grandsons, had little girl baby dolls.  She thought everything through.  Granny had an answer for everything.  When there was thunder, the angels were bowling.  When the sky was pink and blue, the Easter Bunny had been painting the sky.  She wanted her three grandchildren to be compassionate and kind, but most importantly SHE was their biggest fan.  She never missed a ballgame, never missed a pageant, never missed an awards ceremony, never missed anything.  She is the inspiration for the type of grandmother this "Bitsy" wants to be. It was hard when the Lil Momma's Daddy and I divorced, and things were sticky, BUT it was certain, no divorce was going to keep Granny from being Granny!   Granny will be gone from us two years in June, and the hole she left is a huge one.  It almost makes you wonder how any one person can generate such emotion in so many people.  She was a virtual "LOVE" magnet and quite certainly, if I had my choice in people that the Cathoic Church should canonize . . . . it would probably be "Granny".  I can only hope she and the Lil Momma's "PawPaw Pat" are organizing an Easter Egg Hunt as we speak for all the little angels that keep them company upstairs!

The Lil Momma, Granny-our "Love" Magnet, and Cayce at the Aquarium in Atlanta,
 (Lil Momma's Cousin, Baseball Player Extraordinaire, Soccer Player Extraordinaire ,
 and one of Granny's two Grandsons!
Picture happily taken by Bitsy :)



PawPaw "Pat"  and the Lil Momma on the front steps of the house where he waited for us to pass!



Grandpa Tommy and the Lil Momma - Christmas, 1988.
We are so very blessed that he is still around to love the Lil Momma and
for Webb to get to know what a wonderful "Grandpa" he is.  We love him very much.



Webbman getting ready for the Easter Bunny!

Bitsy's My Name and Intentional is my "Game", I'm a Grandboomer and No More Burps for Our Baby!

No More Burping for our lil grownified man, sniff sniff . . . .

I had a "teary" eyed moment earlier today.  It happened on the phone with the Lil Momma and somewhere in between the Stage 2 Baby Food upgrade and the fact that the Lil Momma doesn't have to "burp" our baby anymore.  For some reason, hearing the words aloud, just made me feel like I had missed some monumental event.  I had to reel myself in and realize that the Lil man couldn't have grown more than 2-3 feet since I saw him a painfully long nine (9) days ago.  Yes guys and gals, our Lil Webbman is eating squash, butternut squash at that, and of course, it's organic!


Webbman apparently loves his butternut squash and has "green beans" on the horizon!

 Ahhhhhhh  Webb.  I just love that word.  I just love the sound of it.  I can tell you with 100% honesty that in a million, gagillion years, Webb is not a name I would have dreamed about.  Now, it's pretty much all I dream about.  In case there are any questions, I have really taken this "grandparenting" role seriously.  I've even begun keeping a list (yes, I am concerned I may forget something) of the really cool things I've concocted for the Webbman and Bitsy to do when he gets old enough, new traditions I'd like to see take root, projects that I envision for us in the future, but for now, I can't do much but just be there with him, and even that is somewhat sketchy due to distance, but whatever.  You get my drift.   It's kind of a WATCH, WAIT and PLAY approach.

In the meantime, I've subscribed to every grandparenting magazine and periodical there is.  I've even found myself lurking in the "Grandparenting" Section at the Library.   There sure seems to be alot of talk and discussion about what "they" call "intentional" grandparenting.  It seems to be the "buzz" word when it comes to acceptable grandmothering.  Best I can tell, according to all the "experts", it is pretty "imperative" to be in touch with your inner self in order to do a good job with it.  That explains everything, doesn't it?

The more in-depth my pursuits have become in figuring out how to attain "professional certification" at being an "intentional Bitsy",  the more confused I find myself.  I'll admit that I've gone so far as to do more than "linger" in the Library.  I have checked out books, and let me tell you first hand, if you lurk around in the Grandparenting Section for any length of time, people start to look at ya kind of funny.   Anyhow, it appears from all my research, that we should all be "indulging" in this "intentional grandparenting" thing.  I found myself wondering just what the hell it meant to "indulge" in "intentional grand parenting"?  I then found myself relying on a most beloved friend, the Miriam Webster Dictionary, to confirm the definition of "intentional".  It hasn't changed.  It refers to something that is "done by intention or design: intended."  I can live with that definition but bear in mind,  I'd like to note that I had absolutely nothing to do with the decision for Bitsy to become a Bitsy~there was no "intention" on my part whatsoever about getting the position. A position, I'll add, I have found myself thrilled to accept, but with that said, "How Does A Girl Go About Being Intentional"?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Well, if any of you are up to reading, the best book I have found is authored by Peggy Edwards and Mary Jane Sterne, in a book called Intentional Grandparenting: A Contemporary Guide.  They call "intentional grandparenting "a process for planning ahead and taking deliberate action to be the kind of grandparent you want to be."   Hmmmm, seems I have plenty of time to "plan" and I can certainly be "deliberate", so I believe I am well on my way to being certified :)   I also learned that apparently, I am a "Grandboomer".  Yes, they made up this term to refer to the generation that Bitsy falls into.  Although I've never felt particularly "Grandboomerish", I certainly have been called worse and If the shoe fits, I should wear it.  Whatever "shoes" they are, I sure hope they are comfortable and flats.  I can't do heels anymore with an sense of dignity!

   

Getting back to being "intentional", it seems to me that this concept applies to everyone and everything we encounter.  Not to just being a "grandparent".  Maybe, just maybe, we should all strive to be "intentional" in all our relationships and endeavors. I don't know how good I've been up to this point at all of this, but it seems there are a number of tenets of the "intentional grandparenting role".  Most of them fall into the "common sense" thing, but I'm going to share.  It will save ya'll some time and effort when you get the opportunity to be a "Bitsy" or a "PawPaw", whatever the case.  Perhaps you already are a "Bitsy" or a "PawPaw".  In that case, you already have it figured out, or are really botching it up big time :)

According to Grandparents.com, "intentional grandparenting" involves the following ...

1. Plan special times together. - (I'm planning)

2. Ask the parents to stay away! - (When I'm around, they run like crazy - errands mostly)

3. Take advantage of the resources around you. - (I'm resourceful)

4. The simplest pleasures are often the best. (I'm simple = minded, anyhow)

5. Make a plan, but be flexible. (I plan, I'm not as "flexible" as I once was-no more legs over the head) 

6. See things through the kids' eyes. (This is a challenge, but I'm going to work on it.)

7. Give them your undivided attention. (NO problem with this, I can even give "Intentional Attention")

Don't you agree, it's common sense? I'm working on all of them, but that #7, the "Give them your undivided attention",  I have that one perfected.  Webbman has it.  Heck, the Lil Momma has it! Maybe this is where the "long distance Bitsying" thing comes in handy!  I must profess, if I lived close by how would I get anything done? 

Rule #6 might give "Bitsy" a few problems - "Seeing things through Webb's eyes".  I know I'm going to have a tendency to want to show him everything through MY eyes, if for no other reason than MY eyes have been around a whole heck of a lot longer.  These eye have seen a lot more and have learned to filter out that which doesn't really amount to a hill of beans.  I have a feeling I'm going to have to really work on following the Webbman's "lead".  I'm going to have to work at seeing the world through those beautiful blue eyes of his.  I have a feeling that I may only see what "Bitsy" thinks matters but Webb is going to see what is "magical". Anyway, I plan to really work at "taking marvel at the magical" that our lil man sees from his eyes and yes, I "intend" to be what "they" call a "fully" "intentional grandparent".  Of course there's always the slightest of possibilities that things will just "fall where they may" and I'll make my own "Bitsy" playbook as I go.  After all, I'm not sure there's ever been a "Bitsy", or at least not "a Webb's Bitsy" anyhow.