Cheers to #LifeAt50 and GRAND Social No. 72

Welcome to a new week!

I'm excited about this week as I have a super agenda lined up: I head to Atlanta on Wednesday to attend the Life@50+ National Event and Expo as a guest of AARP Member Advantages. I'm so honored to have been chosen to attend the Expo along with some top-notch bloggers I've admired from afar and will now get to connect with in person.

The Life@50+ Expo schedule is jam-packed with wide-ranging educational and entertaining offerings. Sessions focus on making the most of life's second — and third and fourth — act we boomers and beyond are in, sessions such as Get Packing! Experience the Travel Effect; Life Lessons on Faith, Forgiveness and Grace; The Secrets of Extremely Happy Couples; Balancing Work and Caregiving; and many, many more.

Also on the schedule — which delights a movie fan such as myself — are several Movies For Grownups offerings. One I definitely plan to see while at the Expo is Middleton starring Andy Garcia and Vera Farmiga. Take a look:

What's especially cool about getting to see the movie at the Expo is that Andy Garcia will be at the showing — in person. I just might be brave enough to ask for an autograph, maybe even a photo with the star. C'mon... it could happen, right?

Andy Garcia isn't the only celebrity I'll have a chance to meet, though, as the other dozen or so bloggers in the AARP Member Advantages group and I are scheduled for an exclusive meet-and-greet with Dan Marino, James "JB" Brown and Pepper Schwartz. Plus, Whoopie Goldberg and Tyler Perry kick-off the event,  while others leading or participating in Expo sessions include Jane Pauley, Diana Nyad, Samantha Brown, Martina Navratilova and many others. I'm fairly confident I won't get up close and personal with those beyond the meet-and-greet — unless, that is, they participate alongside me in the Community Day of Service Thursday morning. One can hope, right?

If you'll be at the Life@50+ Expo, let me know — I'd love to meet you there. And be sure to follow Grandma's Briefs on Facebook and Twitter as I'll post updates and photos now and then while in Atlanta.

Cheers to #LifeAt50 (the official hashtag of the Expo).

And cheers, too, to GRAND Social No. 72. Thank you joining me!

How it works:

• All grandparent bloggers are invited to add a link. You don't have to blog specifically about grandparenting, just be a grandparent who blogs.

• To link up a post, copy the direct URL to the specific post — new or old — that you want to share, not the link to your blog's home page. Then click the blue button marked with "Add your link" below and follow the directions.

• You can add up to three posts, but no duplicates, contests, giveaways, or Etsy sites, please.

• Adding a mention such as This post linked to the GRAND Social to your linked posts is appreciated. Or, you can post the GRAND Social button anywhere on your page using the following code:

<a rel="nofollow" href="/" target="blank"><img src="http://grandmasbriefs.squarespace.com/storage/GRANDsocialbutton.jpg " alt="Grandma’sBriefs.com" width="125" height="125" /></a>

• The GRAND Social linky is open for new posts through Wednesday evening, so please come back to see those added after your first visit.


• If you're not a blogger, you have the pleasure of being a reader. Bloggers who link up would be honored to have one and all — other bloggers as well as readers — visit, read and, if so moved, comment, even if just a "Hey, stopping by from the GRAND Social."

• For another grandparent linky, visit Connie's Say It Saturday Link Party each Saturday.

Grandma's grand impression

As I get older, I find that I no longer care much about impressing others. That wasn't always the case.

I recall doing my best to impress as far back as my primary school years, in particular during a fateful event featuring a frog. That should have left a lasting impression upon me the folly of trying to impress others. It didn't.

Years later, my older sister reinforced the idea that impressing others matters when she, a teen at the time and me a pre-teen, introduced me to her new boyfriend. My sister and I shared a bedroom, and she positioned me on the full bed we shared with a book in my lap. "Be sure to put on your glasses before he comes in," she said. "That way he'll think you're smart."

I did look smart. He, though, turned out to be an idiot — which my sister realized only after that boyfriend became her husband then, thankfully, ex-husband.

I still wear glasses, and I still look pretty darn smart in them. I wear them strictly to see, though, not to impress. Because, like I said, impressing others matters not one whit to me. I no longer work to impress my immediate family nor my extended family, not my friends nor strangers. Not even my boss.

Okay, the last one — my boss — doesn't really count because as a freelancer, I have no boss. I do, though, have my readers. And while I do hope to entertain and enlighten you to some degree, I certainly don't try to impress you.

Nope, impressing others is no longer important to me.

Except, that is, when it comes to my grandchildren.

You grandparents likely know what I mean. What others think of us is neither here nor there, yet what our grandchildren think of us is everything. So we do our best to impress the wee ones, performing stunts of magnificent athletic/artistic/intelligence proportion that scream "Look at me! Love me! Be impressed by me!"

And sometimes those shouts and stunts fail miserably. Or they just plain scare the <cuss> out of the kids. Which is exactly what happened not too long ago when I tried to impress Bubby with Gramma's grace and agility.

Bubby had been impressing me with his newfound acrobatic skills, when I chose to reciprocate and show him my own not-so-newfound but perhaps equally impressive moves. Specifically, I wanted Bubby to see how I could still turn a mean cartwheel, despite not having performed a cartwheel in, well, a few years, give or take a decade or three.

"Stand back," I told Bubby as I raised my arms in the air and assumed cartwheel take-off position.

My obedient grandson stood back, eyes wide and mouth ajar, as Gramma lurched forward, perfectly placed on the floor one hand then the other, then lifted one fo... oh ... lifted nothing, as my feet flat-out refused to follow the perfect lead of my hands. My cartwheel attempt and I came crashing down, much to the horror of Bubby.

"You shouldn't do that, Gramma" Bubby uttered with restrained concern. "You might hurt yourself."

I was okay, though; the only thing hurt was my pride.

But... there was no stopping me and my intent to impress.

"Well, forget the cartwheel," I told Bubby. "But Gramma can definitely still perform perfect somersaults." Sheesh, who couldn't? I thought.

Let's just say my somersault attempt was only slightly less catastrophic than my cartwheel attempt — and only because it didn't require me to become semi-airborne.

Truth is, my body weighs many, many pounds more than it once did, pounds that posed quite a challenge to my neck when I placed my head firmly on the floor and set myself in slow but purposeful forward motion in typical somersault fashion. Slow being the operative word as I felt a crunch in my neck that signaled Gramma had gone a wee bit beyond awkward on this move and had rolled right on into physically dangerous territory.

Bubby grimaced while offering "Wow, Gramma" as quickly as possible so I'd dare not attempt another roll. (Little did he know there was no way in <cuss> Gramma could have proceeded into a second roll.) Fortunately he — nor Megan — ever seemed to noticed how stiff I held my head and neck for the next several days of my visit, as I truly had hurt myself, that it was more than my pride I had been pinged in that particular attempt to impress.

From such folly, I must admit I did learn one important lesson from Bubby: Quit trying so hard.

It was later during that same visit that I realized my sister had been right all those years ago: Sporting spectacles is indeed the key to making a smart impression.

If nothing else, glasses are definitely the safest way for a grandma to make an impression — at least for this sometimes-not-so-smart grandma.

Today's question:

How have you tried — and possibly failed — to impress your grandchildren or children?

New mom possessiveness: Seeking help from the grandmahood

I recently received an email from a pregnant mother who will soon have her first child. As the baby's birth nears, the new mom wrote, she's having difficulty coming to terms with the intense, scary and perfectly normal feelings of possessiveness over her baby — especially in relation to the soon-to-be-born child's grandmothers.

"Can you help?" she asked me.

Seems my post titled Grandma's No. 1 came up when this new mother Googled search queries such as "grandma obsessed with my baby." Admittedly, I just may sound a tad obsessed in that post, but I wrote those words from the heart and believe it's the truth on how many a grandma feels about her grandchildren. We are obsessed.

Which is exactly what concerns this new mother. It's why she asked if I could help her understand us crazy-in-love grandmas — an understanding that may help if her baby's grandmas turn out like the rest of us.

Before I respond to her, though, I'm seeking input from you, the Grandma's Briefs "grandmahood." Together we may properly shed light on why grandmothers feel the way we do. My hope is that as a whole, we can offer some guidance regarding what she calls the "stickiness in my heart" and her overwhelming feelings of possessiveness for her newborn when it comes to the "pretty reasonable" grandmothers in her life, who admittedly "haven't pulled any super crazy overbearing grandparent moves." 

First, of course, I must share with you the new mom's concerns about grandmothers in general and my Grandma's No. 1 post in particular. So here is the bulk of her letter to me:

There was a specific part in your post that bothered me. You said, "The thing is, when it comes to grandkids — and any grandma knows this, so I'm pretty much talking to the non-grandmas here — it's such a fresh, new, overwhelming love that it's hard to not gush and glow over it. New mothers feel the very same world-shaking love for their newborn, for their little ones as they grow..."

I have to very much disagree that grandmothers feel the SAME love for a newborn as their mothers do. Strong and also world-shaking, yes — but not the same. And even the way you worded this — that in fact mothers share the same love as grandmothers, instead of the other way around, also rubbed me the wrong way.

I also truly don't understand this section: "Much to their delight, they're getting a second opportunity to relish the fully-enveloping motherly love for a child. And relish it we do. Just like we did when our first child was born. And the second. And the third. And more."

I see what you're saying here, but this is NOT your child — so it is not the same love, and it may feel fully enveloping but it should still not compete with the mother's own love.

I'm sorry if I sound confrontational. That isn't my intention. I hope you'll forgive my very strong new mama feelings.

So please, please tell me: Do grandparents actually think that their love for the grandkids is the same as the parents' love?

I genuinely do not understand the grandparent obsession, to the point that it seems unhealthy to me. And I know all the boundary-less women my mom and MIL know that have grandkids are not helping them to be sane about my baby. I and am of course on the other side of life right now and just really struggling to relate to their feelings. I want to respect them, but also set reasonable boundaries.

Any tips on how to handle these feelings without hurting the grandparents' feelings or causing strife? Is this just something that needs to change in my heart?

Thanks for listening.

I want to tell this new mother that yes, we grandmothers do feel an all-consuming love for our grandchildren that is just like that of a mother, at least in terms of the degree of consumption.

I want to tell her that reasonable, well-intentioned grandmothers certainly don't want to possess or parent our grandchildren, that we delight in seeing our children parent our grandchildren, sometimes with such delight we fear our hearts will burst with pride.

And I want to tell her the importance of remembering that at least one of the grandmothers she worries about once held her in their arms, that they loved, adored, cuddled and worried about her in exactly the same way she is and will with her baby. That that grandmother fully understands and could shed light on the situation better than any stranger could. So talk to her about boundaries, expectations, her love and respect for the grandmothers in relation to what works for her as a new mother.

Mostly, I just want to tell her to not fret about competition or who loves the baby more, to accept that her role as the one and only mother of that child is a given — and that rational, loving grandmothers will give her the space to be that, do that, own that.

That's what I want to tell that new mother. But I want to know what you — the grandmothers and others who may see yourself in my words or hers — would tell this heart-heavy mother who wants to do and be and feel what's right for her baby, for the grandmothers and for herself.

So please share your thoughts. Ultimately, perhaps the best thing for me to do is direct the new mom to this post and your comments, so she'll glean guidance from the grandmahood collective, not just from me. I thank you. I venture to say she will, too.

Today's question:

What would you say to the new mother regarding the "stickiness" in her heart?

What I learned this week: Aha moments on ears, Tori Amos, and swingers

I like to learn new things all the time. Sometimes those things are big, sometimes not so big at all. This week what I learned leaned more to the latter — yet interesting to me just the same.

EARS
Did you know that your earlobes provide skin to be used to replace facial skin removed due to skin cancer? I did not know that, but now I do.

The story isn't mine to tell, so I can't share in full, but a loved one of mine had skin cancer spots removed from her face this week. Those spots were deep and wide and in need of skin to cover the (literal) holes left by removing the bad stuff. I'd been told the likely source for skin replacement was her earlobes. I imagined her having her face patched up but no longer being able to wear earrings as her ear lobe was cut off, split open like a chicken breast then the fillet stitched to her face.

Thankfully that's not how it works. Instead, small slivers of skin were sliced from her lobe — which remained fully attached — and carefully placed on the spots in need of coverage. Who'da thunk it?

TORI AMOS
I've never felt strongly about Ms. Amos one way or another. To be honest, I can't even think of a song title or even a snippet of a tune of songs that she's sung. That said, though, I've always thought of her — if I ever thought of her at all — as being much younger than me.

Well guess what? I learned (from AARP magazine) that Tori Amos will be 50 next Thursday. FIFTY! That's just too weird to me, for some reason. It's kind of like learning that Pee Wee Herman is, well, he's ... (Googling it real quick) ... Ohmigosh! Pee Wee Herman/Paul Rubens is 60! Sixty-one on the 27th, actually. Not that that's old, but so not what I expected for Pee Wee. Kind of makes Tori Amos seem such a baby.

SWINGERS
Jim has been trying his darnedest for years to attract hummingbirds to our yard. Considering how abundant they are in our area, you'd think we'd have at least a few stopping by our place. Nothing for years. Then last year we got one. ONE! All summer long we saw only one little guy sipping on one of the hummingbird feeders in our yard.

Because of Jim's determination to attract the hummers, Megan and her family gave Jim for Father's Day a pretty new hummingbird feeder, a book on attracting them, and a sweet little swing the birds would supposedly swing away on.

Well, the book helped, as we finally — finally — have several hummingbirds visiting not only the pretty new feeder but our old one, too. The swing? Meh... it's cute and all, but we never expected it to be much of a draw for the hummingbirds.

Oh my, were we wrong. Those little guys and gals love it. They're not only hummers, they're swingers, too. And one in particular swings long enough and often enough for me to get some pretty darn cute photos of her merrily swinging away.

 

As you can see, the lessons weren't huge or life-changing — well, the ear one was for one person I know — but they are indeed what I learned this week.

Enjoy your weekend! I look forward to connecting again come Monday!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

Help wanted: Shattering the grandma stereotype

Do you feel marginalized, ignored, stereotyped when it comes to your role as a grandparent? Are you fed up with brands presenting erroneous and ageist advertisements that mock grandmas in unrealistic and ridiculous ways (how many times can we stomach the unoriginal, "this ain't your grandma's whatever" in an ad?) or brands that completely ignore grandmas in their marketing efforts?

I'm fed up with both. I'm especially fed up with the stereotyping of grandmas across the board, not just by ignorant brands, but by any and all in the media who think grandmas are nothing but old grannies sitting in their rockers, knitting their lives away. I'm talking about those perpetuating the myth that grandmothers look like this...

(screenshot of Google result)... instead of this...

Those are real, live grandmas above, a sampling of the grandmas I've featured as Grilled Grandmas here on Grandma's Briefs. If those lovely, vibrant women are what grandmas look like, why does a Google search for "grandma" result in — at the very top of the list — the inaccurate caricatures I show in the screenshot above? Gah... the frustration.

You've heard me complain about this in the past, especially by way of my The grandma in a box post I published here a while back. There has been some progress made since I wrote that post nearly a year ago. For one thing, The grandma in a box was named in the 2013 BlogHer Voices of the Year as the People's Choice selection in the humor category. That post and I — along with 99 other well-deserving bloggers and their works — will be honored in the VOTY Community Keynote and Cocktail Reception Friday evening, hosted by none other than Queen Latifah. (Does that mean I get to shake her hand, hear her call my name, find out if she read my post? I don't know... but I'll share with you what I find out!)

That post is my fed-up-grandma story, though, and I want to hear your story, want to consider ways in which grandmothers and grandfathers may feel marginalized, left out, stereotyped, especially by brands, in advertisements and otherwise. I want to keep those things in mind while at BlogHer the end of this week, possibly even share a few of your stories and suggestions with the brands I connect with, in hopes the erroneous and outdated grandma stereotype will be shattered, that brands big and small will get that the grandparent demographic — grandmas and grandpas — matters... and carries with it a large amount of disposable income they spend regularly on themselves and their loved ones.

We all have a unique story, all have ways we relish being a grandparent, as well as ways we feel the title gets in the way when people look at us, consider us. I want to hear about the latter from you, today — your gripes and complaints about the grandma stereotype. I'd like to add your story to my story, carry it with me as I do my best to represent grandparent bloggers at BlogHer.

Sure, there will be other grandma bloggers at the conference, but I'm not sure how many will be proudly waving the grandma flag. I plan to proudly wave that flag in hopes of making you proud, in hopes of making things even just a wee bit better — and realistic — for all of us grandparents, at least in terms of how brands view us, represent us.

So my question for you today is this:

In what ways do you feel marginalized, stereotyped, ignored, erroneously represented by brands, marketers and media? Feel free to be as long or as brief as you like, just please be honest and real. Feel free to offer suggestions for improvement in the area for the brands, too, if you'd like. I'll share what I can.

Thank you for your stories and suggestions and for helping me (try to) make a difference for our grandmahood (which, I'm happy to report, includes a few grandpas, too!).

What I learned this week: Our voices matter

I used to sing, now I mostly whistle. For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed accompanying music of all varieties, from big bands to little bands, from songs that rock to those that roll classically or otherwise. That accompaniment most often came by way of singing along.

Then I started losing my voice on a regular basis. Year after year — afteryearafteryearafteryear — I would get a bad cold that would quickly become laryngitis and I couldn't speak at all for days on end, much less sing. So I whistled.

Whistling came in handy when I had no voice, at least for carrying a tune. It didn't help a bit, though, when I needed to speak. For one long stretch of years, the years when I was a writer then editor at the newspaper, the loss of my voice every couple of months frustrated me to no end. I'd have interviews to conduct, people I'd have to speak to on the phone.

I'd gargle lemon juice in the morning before going to work, gargle lemon juice in the restroom at work, gargle it (or sometimes straight vinegar) before conducting an interview. The sour juices would cut through whatever rendered my vocal cords silent and and I could speak... for at least a few moments.

Sometimes, when the lack of a voice made it impossible for me to conduct my editorial business as I should, I had to ask my coworkers at times to return phone calls on important matters or I had to resort to emailing those who needed to talk to me. And this was before the days when folks checked their email on a regular basis — and long before texting was an option.

When my newspaper department was cut and my associates and I were left surviving on freelancing gigs, the loss of a voice still tripped me up now and again. I clearly recall one horrendous interview for a freelance article, a time when Froggy from Little Rascals had nothing on me and my croaking voice, yet the show, er, interview had to go on. I was so embarrassed listening to myself later as I transcribed that interview. So painful it was to hear, and so painful for my poor interviewee.

Soon after that interview, I started my blog. I've not lost my voice since.

As silly and new-agey as it may seem, I do believe in the mind-body connection, and the connection to losing my voice was this: I wasn't saying what I needed to say, the things I needed to let out, the things I wanted people to know about me and hear from me. My blog allowed me to make my voice heard. I was saying the things I needed to say, so no longer would I lose my voice.

Because I've been sick many, many times since starting my blog but have not once lost my voice, I firmly believe that through my blog I found my voice.

Through my blog others have found my voice, too. My voice seems to have resonated with the grandmas and others who have read Grandma's Briefs during the past four years. And this week I learned that my voice has resonated with others beyond grandmas, too.

See, back last year, there was a moment when I was incredibly frustrated by the manner in which I felt grandma bloggers were treated (or ignored) in the bloggy world. So I wrote a post about it, called it The Grandma in a Box. The post was so well received by the readers of Grandma's Briefs that I decided to enter it in the 2013 BlogHer Voices of the Year, which is a pretty big honor for the bloggers chosen.

And this week I learned that post of mine was named — out of the 2,600 entries — not only a Voices of the Year honoree, but the People's Choice selection in the humor category. (The other categories were Inspiration, Heart and OpEd.)

My voice... among the 100 chosen. My voice... one of four People's Choice winners. My voice... now officially a voice that mattered.

So unexpected, so humbling, so exciting.

All 100 bloggers selected in the 2013 BlogHer Voices of the Year — including several other midlife voices such as my Generation Fabulous friends Lois Alter Mark, Sandra Sallin, Janie Emaus (a Grilled Grandma!) and Shannon Bradley-Colleary — will be honored at the BlogHer conference July 26 in Chicago. The honor is a big deal, for me and for all the other bloggers named for their voices.

But the honor is a big deal for all grandparent bloggers, too, because my voice — a grandma voice — apparently mattered to folks who are not grandmas, folks who selected the Voices of the Year. Which is huge! That means grandma (and grandpa!) bloggers are finally getting noticed, finally being heard, finally, I hope, being let out of the box.

Not only does my voice matter, our voices matter. And that is what I learned this week, courtesy the 2013 BlogHer Voices of the Year.

I'm over and out for the week, but I look forward to seeing you again Monday here for the GRAND Social link party for grandparents. It's where you can share your posts — your voice — so I hope you'll join me.

Have a lovely weekend!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?