No Kidding Around

Not these Kids

I don't have kids.

I may have mentioned that a hundred or more times, but in case any of you may have forgotten, I don't. Never wanted them, not a kid person, give me a dog any day of the week. Oh zip it all you parents looking down your noses, I believe we should all... in the words of Dirty Harry, "know our limitations."

I know mine, and it was never gonna be wiping someone else's ass for two years. And while that was indeed something that entered my mind many times when I was young enough to consider having kids, it was more of the knowledge of really not being cut out for it, and not able to cope with the 24/7, 365 day, twenty year commitment.

I did however become a step-monster of a fourteen-year old a shitload of years ago. I was lucky, he was great. Love and respect were never an issue, and I could not be more proud of the man he has become. That kiddo is now thirty-nine, and will soon become a father. This makes me a sort of step-grandmonster. Sort of.

Now the family is pretty small, but what we do have are some extras. As in the step kind. So the question has come up on what we all want to be known as when the baby, who won't be showing up until the spring, gets around to talking to us. oy.

Now those of you who know me can stop laughing right now. We all know some little crumb crusher calling me Granny ain't never gonna happen. I thought I remembered Joan Rivers saying when her grandson was born she wanted to be called Queen. Since the nickname I've embraced for many years has been Queen Bitch, it seemed a possible option.

Then it came to me; I could really dig being in a store with this barely walking toddler and he or she calls out "Hot Stuff." Hell yeah. The parents-to-be seemed to be the only ones who thought this was not an unthinkable option... and that's why I love them both. Oh and my beautiful niece thought it was cool too... but then she always thought I was a kick-ass aunt.

Most others thought it would be too hard for the baby to pronounce. I don't. So unless we can come up with something just as fabulous, Hot Stuff it is. This step-grandmonster is gonna rock.

Just saying.

A Solo For The Drummer

I don't have kids...my choice. I'm not exactly a "people person" so there was no way I was gonna take a chance with having a child. I don't like the responsibility of taking care of myself everyday...having a dog is pretty much my tolerance level, so having someone who actually needs me for 18 years or so...uh, no. But I digress.

This week, all over the country, recent high school graduates are packing up and going off to college. The Drum Mamma's son is one of them. How the hell the eighteen years since I first held him in my arms could have passed so quickly, is one of life's cruel jokes. Days drag on forever, years fly by.

This past year was pretty damn exciting for the Drummer Boy. His band rose to some lofty heights, playing alongside some well-known artists and receiving both honors and critical acclaim. Shows, recording, networking...learning the business through lots of hard work.

Everything changes today. While the band is still together, they are all smart enough to realize making it in a band is less than a sure thing. It's time to learn everything possible about the business end. Just be sure to make a little music everyday...because the music is the one constant in bringing peace and contentment to your life.

So today, as the Drum Mamma tries not to cry, and Big G smiles with pride as he gives one last look in the rear-view mirror...a new chapter begins. But you're a rocker Mike and it's your story, so tear out the pages and write your own.

Big drum finish...rock on.

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