My grandson sleeping, blissfully unaware of any undercurrents that his very existence has stirred up.  He's a sweet little baby, easygoing, often hungry and learning to interact with everyone, smiling and making noises.

My son says he's sober, except he's smoking weed.  Yesterday morning his hands were shaking when he was here but no smell of liquor.  He tells me he's not lying, but is that a lie?  He gets angry/irritated because he is not believed but those are the consequences of a lifetime spent lying.  He looks like shit.

When I went to pick up my grandson yesterday morning from his mama's place, I couldn't wake her up.  My grandson woke up and was crying so I reached over her snoring body and picked him up, fed him and took him home with me.  I left her a text message letting her know where he was.  She knew I was picking him up at 9:30.

Later when we went out grocery shopping together I could smell a hangover on her breath.  So I wait and watch.  She is a good mama but she has her own problems.

So I worry, which does me no good.  My muscles are seizing up.  My back is so painful from tight muscles.

Katie has dental surgery tomorrow morning.  She needs a general anesthetic for any dental work.  I asked her father to take her tomorrow because he's here visiting her all weekend.  He said he can't, he's working.  So the big guy and I took tomorrow off, because we work too, and we'll take her.  This burns my ass.  No thank you from him, for arranging everything, for getting her history and physical done by her doctor, no thank you for filling in all the forms, no thank you for using my vacations days to care for my daughter.  I think this may be sitting in the muscles of my back as well.  There is still anger there.

Katie met her new psychiatrist on Friday.  He was kind, observant and well informed.  He'd read her file.  He asked why my son, the oldest in the family, wasn't Katie's alternate guardian.  I told him that my son was a an alcoholic and drug addict who was in jail when Katie's guardianship went through.  He looked at me and said, "You have a lot on your plate."  And I wonder if I attract shit into my life or it just happens.  Do I cope poorly or well with all the shit in my life?  I have no way of knowing.  I only know my own life, I don't know the lives of others.

Isn't life supposed to be easier?