My father was a creature of habit. You could pretty well predict the time according to what he was doing throughout the day. Everyday he got up early to have black coffee and read the newspaper with the radio going - usually some early morning news. Later it would be the TV blaring with the The Today Show. When Mom sold her house a few years ago and had the giant garage sale, we kids could not part with that radio - my brother took it home with him. Even after retirement, Dad's routine did not vary much. Every morning he awoke early, dressed, drank his coffee, read his newspaper, and went to have coffee with the guys. Throughout the day he had some sort of rat killin' to take care of and then coffee with the guys at 3:00 PM. His routine served him well. Up until three weeks before his death, he always got up and always got dressed. The last four years were tough with his fighting cancer and chemo, but he still followed his routine as best he could.
I don't think of myself as such a creature of habit, but when my routine is interrupted, I notice and realize how much like my father I am.
Tuesday night my DIL called to ask if I could come stay with the GGs. She and Bo were headed to the hospital - time for the Grand Boy was near. I spent the night on the couch at their house, although the hospital sent them home around midnight. The DIL continues to have contractions, but not steady enough to be considered serious labor - just pre-labor. And I continue to have the GGs. They spent Wed. with me, and then last night they spent the night here at the Lazy B. My routine is thoroughly out of whack.
We are painting, watching cartoons, chasing Max and the cat through the house, etc. all with lots of squealing going on. Although I keep trying to settle everyone down, excitement is running high. There was a white-tailed deer outside last night - pretty darn exciting. Later, putting them to bed was not easy, and we had to have one serious talk. This morning they came into my bedroom before 5:00 AM and touched me with their cold little fingers wanting to start the day. I sent them back to bed, but they came back to wake me up again fifteen minutes later. We all got up at that point. All morning they have touched me and patted me and called my name to show me or ask me something. After I fed them a little coffee/milk/sugar and a sweet-roll cooked in the waffle maker with lots of icing, I managed to settle everyone down. This computer is now my down time - safe base - as in a game of tag.
We still have no word on the new GB, but soon maybe. It is looking like wild times at the Lazy B for a few days. Super Booboo to the rescue! It is not that I mind the GGs - you know I love having them. But there needs to be some sort of routine established while they are here. Everything does not need to be high drama. I get more like my father every day.
As I typed the first paragraph I began to wonder why I was thinking on Dad. There's always things that bring Dad to mind, but maybe more so this time of year. It was seven years ago at this time that we called in hospice. We came together for Thanksgiving and for our last bit of time with Dad. He died on Dec. 2, 2005. We used to tease him about his routine, but you know, somehow it was very comforting.
Update: Jack the red healer killed a rabbit - yuck. It is on the back porch. GGs are squealing. Dogs are fighting over it. More chaos.