Prayers and a post somewhere else

As a blogger, knowing how much private story to share with readers and how much to keep shuttered away for only those one knows in person can be a challenge. I sincerely want to share myself and be transparent with those who take the time to read Grandma's Briefs. If I shared here each and every personal struggle I face, though, I'm pretty darn sure you'd get sick and tired of reading about them. I know for a fact I would get sick and tired of sharing them.

So I've not yet shared the hell of the past 10 days with you. But today I will. I'm sharing today because I need to request healing thoughts and prayers from you and I need to explain why I'm sending you elsewhere — when bloggers are supposed to do all they can to keep visitors on their blog — to read a post written by me but published on another site. (Chalk it up to that whole "freelancer" thing I so want to be when I grow up.)

One of my favorite photos of my sister Debbie as a young girl. She still has that smile, that light in her eyes.See, my younger sister Debbie — the second youngest of my four sisters — has been in and out of ICU since a week ago Monday... August 26. To make a long story a teensy bit shorter, Debbie was rushed by ambulance to the hospital when her lungs and heart went into distress early Monday morning. Things haven't been good ever since, at least not for very long. She'd get stable, then have a coughing fit that would stop her heart. Lifesaving measures have been instituted a time or two.

Yesterday Debbie was transported by ambulance to the ICU at a hospital in Denver. Today she faces a heart procedure to try and figure out what's happening and how to stop it.

My sister just turned 45 August 22. This is crazy. And scary.

So today I'm asking you to please send healing prayers for my sister and for all of us who love and adore the wacky woman. Thank you so very, very much.

Because of the situation with my sister, I'm unable to gather my wits enough to write a decent post of any sort for you today. That said, though, I did recently publish a decent post on another site. On Grandparents.com, to be precise. So I'm sharing that with you here today in hopes you'll read it there. It's about sharing family stories with the grandchildren, and it begins like this:

My daughter, mother of my two grandsons, is an early childhood educator. Each school year, my daughter hosts a Grandparents Day celebration and encourages her students to invite a grandparent (or two) to attend school with them. One highlight of Grandparents Day is when the students "interview" their grandparents on what school was like for them at their grandchild’s age. The anecdotes shared by the grandparents, my daughter says, never fail to dazzle and often downright befuddle the rapt grandchildren.

There’s no need to wait until Grandparents Day to amaze and entertain – as well as enlighten and educate – grandchildren with stories of not only your past, but of their past, too. Children of all ages...Click here to continue reading 6 FAMILY STORIES TO TELL YOUR GRANDCHILDREN AGAIN AND AGAIN on Grandparents.com.

Thank you for reading. More importantly, thank you for your healing thoughts and prayers for my sister.

What I learned this week: One way my eldest daughter is not like me

My eldest daughter, Brianna, is very much like me. She and I enjoy the same books, same movies, same music — for the most part (that silly girl adores country music far more than I ever will).

We like the same clothing style, love the same foods, and we have many of the same mannerisms. We even unintentionally say the very same things at the very same times often enough that Jim, upon hearing our comments in stereo — one side me, one side Brianna — regularly responds to us with, "Will you two stop doing that!?"

Yes, Brianna is very much like me.

There is one way in which my daughter is so not like me, though. It's something we both learned this week. It's something that led me to thank God out loud upon hearing.

That something is this: Brianna does not have MS.

I'm talking about multiple sclerosis — a drag of a disease I've worried for decades one or more of my daughters would inherit from me... despite there being no proof MS is hereditary.

Hereditary or not, Brianna began expressing concerns about unusually numb feet and oddball sensations in her body about six months ago. Just a complaint here and there, sentiments she'd pass along knowing darn well it was scaring the hell out of me despite my calm and reassuring demeanor at the mentions.

"It's probably just related to your back," I'd say on the outside while fearing the worst on the inside.

See, Brianna was in a car accident a few years ago, rear-ended by a landscaping truck that never even hit the brakes as she was stopped at a red traffic light. It wasn't good, especially for her back. Brianna eventually, though not even 25 years of age at the time, had to undergo emergency back surgery months after the accident but related to the accident. She's had minor pain and numbness and pings and pinches in her feet and legs ever since.

But when those minor pings and pains recently changed to major and began sounding more and more like the pings and pains I experienced before being diagnosed with MS 21 years ago, neither of us could ignore the symptoms. Brianna needed to see a doctor who would confirm or rule out MS.

Brianna saw that doctor Wednesday.

The doctor ruled out MS Wednesday.

I learned Wednesday that my daughter who is very-so-very much like me is not like me in the one way I prayed she and her sisters would never, ever be.

Hallelujah!

Yes, there's nerve damage and neuropathy and issues my daughter — who just turned 31 on Sunday — will deal with the rest of her life, things that may worsen throughout her life.

We both agree that sucks.

Yet we also both agree on this: Thank God it's not MS.

In that way we are very much alike.

In that way we both say — in stereo — hallelujah!

And that is what I — and Brianna — learned this week.

I learned another thing this week (yesterday, in fact), this one far more sad: Our bloggy friend Joan, whom many of you know as Gramcracker and who blogs at Gramcracker Crumbs, lost her husband unexpectedly this week. Please keep Joan and her loved ones in your thoughts and prayers.

Have a safe, happy and memorable weekend. I look forward to connecting with you again on Monday.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

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?

Weekend woes plus GRAND Social No. 66

Sometimes the weekends don't go quite as one might hope they would. This past weekend was exactly that way for my daughter Megan and her family.

The weekend started off all wrong for poor Megan. After a long first week of school, she arrived home Friday afternoon to find Mac in bad shape and Preston furiously scrubbing blood from Mac and Bubby's bedroom carpet. Just moments before, Mac had jumped from the night table and came down hard on the wood bedframe around Bubby's bed. Down on his mouth. His upper gum, to be exact.

Megan zoomed Mac to Emergicare while Preston scrubbed blood and stayed with Bubby. Emergicare turned her away, saying, "Get that boy to the pediatric dentist now!" She took him there, X-rays showed no broken baby or permanent teeth, and the poor little guy left with an open wound (technical term for the ouchie: degloving) that will supposedly heal relatively quickly.

Scenes from the woeful experience:

Tiny Mac prepped for the dentist.

The ouchie — after seeing the dentist.

As one Facebook friend said, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!" I hope she's right. Not so sure Mac learned his lesson, though, as despite the pain, Mac still was a chipper little fella, evidenced by this photo taken immediately after the one above of Mommy holding back his lip:

Still smiling.

The weekend woes didn't end there for Megan and the gang. Next up was a bad-hair day — for Roxy, the family dog, who normally looks like this:

Roxy — July 2013

Megan texted me a photo Saturday afternoon of Roxy, who now, thanks to an "oops!" by the groomer, looks like this:

 

Not the best weekend ever. But as Megan said about the turn of events: It could be worse. Cheers to perspective — and to Mac's mouth healing quickly. (And Roxy's fur growing fast, too!)

Plus... Cheers to one and all joining me today for GRAND Social No. 66! Time for the party!

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 href="http://grandmasbriefs.com" rel="nofollow" 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 Grandparent's Say It Saturday Link Party each Saturday.

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?

What I learned this week: Beware of bad grandmas

Tuesday night, as I watched the last episode of The Voice (and crossed my fingers Michelle Shamuel or the Swon Brothers would win), I received on my phone a Facebook message. It was a friend alerting me to posts and pictures of my grandson Mac that were being prominently featured on another grandma's Facebook page.

The Facebook page in question isn't that of a friend or a regular reader of Grandma's Briefs. It's a Facebook page unrelated to a blog or website, and it bills itself as dedicated to "grandparents and grandkids."

After checking out what my friend directed me to, it was clear the content was not something I had shared on Facebook, not a "share" from my Grandma's Briefs Facebook page. No, it was my original copyrighted material copied in full from this post. Worse yet, it featured the photo of Mac that went with the post, stolen from this blog and pasted on that Facebook page as if it were their own material. No attribution, no mention of Grandma's Briefs, no admission that it was not their material and not their grandchild they were sharing. (There were, in fact, two of my posts that Facebook page had stolen from this blog, but only the written text from the second.)

Worse yet... that stolen content was being shared and shared and shared across Facebook. My words. My grandson. My post. My copyrighted material. Yet no one seemed to notice that the bad grandma who put it on her page was not the owner of the material, not the grandmother of the precious little boy they all found so cute and shareable.

I was livid. I was literally shaking as I commented on the post on that page, asking the grandma to please remove my content, but more importantly, to remove my grandson's photo from her page. There was no response to my comment on that post requesting it be removed (even though I know she was there as new posts were being added as I steamed), so I had to private message her. Her response — as the sharing from her nearly 25,000 Facebook fans of my post and grandson continued: "...sorry, your pic should have a link or a owner name. ( your mistake, not ours)."

I was appalled at her response, her refusal to accept responsibility for stealing from my blog (as I said, I had not shared the full post on Facebook, ever) and her refusal to completely remove my grandbaby and my copyrighted words from her page.

It took quite a few go-rounds, many private messages from me to those who unwittingly shared stolen property and my grandson's photo, many threats from me to that unethical grandma that I'd be reporting her for copyright infringement before she finally and reluctantly removed my content. After it had been shared across Facebook by nearly 300 of her fans.

Okay, I know my grandson is cute. And my 10 commandments for grandmothers post was a fairly clever one if I say so myself. And ya know what? If that grandma had requested permission from me to post it on her page or had included the fact it was from my site and noted that the photo was my grandson (whose face isn't visible in that photo, thank heavens... it's the one above, just with different text for that stolen post), I probably would not have cared. I probably would have welcomed the request to share my work. But she didn't ask. She came into my house (my blog), stole my stuff (my words and photos), and offered to share it with the world as if it were hers to share.

So very, very wrong. Even more wrong was that she refused to accept responsibility for her actions or apologize for the mistake.

What makes this even worse is that I am not the first person this woman has stolen from in this manner. I have a grandma friend — who shall, at her request, remain anonymous — who experienced the very same thing, sans the photo of a grandchild, luckily. My friend went round and round to have her content removed.

Finally my friend won, the content was removed from that page. Time went by. Then the bad grandma stole content from my friend again, giving no attribution to the owner of the copyrighted material. Oddly and sadly enough, there are other Facebook pages that have done the exact same thing to that exact same grandma friend.

Truly unbelievable. Especially because all the pages that did it are grandmas. Or claim to be.

As I told the bad grandma who stole from me, she should be ashamed of herself and that I hope her grandchildren do not follow her lead. She came back at me with a "no need to get personal," which seemed rather ironic to me because when you steal photos of my grandchild, copy and paste my words/writings/works, that seems quite personal.

I continue to "like" that Facebook page — only so I can keep an eye out for my content, photos of my grandchildren being shared without my permission. It's one thing to "share" something I have placed on Facebook for friends and family, such as you folks, to share; it's entirely another to come to my blog, copy/paste/steal my content then post it on Facebook and pretend it's yours.

So the bottom line, the reason for this long-winded diatribe is to warn you all to beware the bad grandmas who may steal your content and share it on Facebook. I will keep an eye out for your content being shared. I hope you will keep an eye out, too, not only for my content but for that of all the grandmas in our grandmahood, those of us who know each other — even if only online — those of us who have each other's backs.

Together, we must beware of bad grandmas. That, my friends, is what I learned this week.

<heavy sigh>

As I step down from my soap box, I'd like to wish each and every one of you a fantastic weekend. I so very much appreciate you all, and I hope to see you here again come Monday!

Cheers!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

What I learned this week: Fans make a difference

As the temperature soared to nearly 100 degrees early this week for the first time this season, I complained and complained about not having air-conditioning.

When temps did the same the next day, I pulled from storage our nine fans (some oscillating, some box, some desk top) and placed them strategically around the house. Then Jim went and bought two more (window fans), and we added those to the strategy.

The next day, as the temps rose yet again, I didn't complain about the heat. Because it wasn't all that hot in the house. Because of the fans.

I thought to myself: With the help of fans, I can weather most anything.

Then I considered how true that is — and not just because I have the humming and whirling of fan blades cooling things down throughout my house.

See, it's been a tough week. Not as tough and heartbreaking as what many around me have faced in the last few days, yet still a challenge... for me. I've had two very important writing deadlines to meet in the midst of one of the more trying family times — for myriad reasons — that I've dealt with in a while. There's the heat and my cold that won't go away. And there's the Black Forest Fire, which doesn't affect me directly, but sure affects my heart, soul, and mind at a time that all three seemed at maximum capacity.

Because of the tasks at hand, I've not been online much this week. Not on social media, not on my blog, not on the blogs of others, not reading and answering emails as I should. But every single time I did get online, I'd see something from Grandma's Briefs readers — be it number of visitors to my blog, Facebook updates, emails, tweets, or comments — that would warm my heart, make me smile, emphasize that there are people I've never, ever met who kindly and unselfishly support me and my words. People who are, for want of a better word (because this one sounds so vain, so egotistical), my fans.

Such things I'd see online kept me going, in one way or another. They made a difference. I made it to Friday. I completed (most of) the week's tasks. I met deadlines by Thursday for which I, on Monday, considered requesting extensions. I accomplished the family stuff I set out to do, too. And I even found time to consider and pray and fret about the fire.

So what I learned twice this week is this: With the help of fans, I can weather most anything. I'm incredibly thankful for fans. I'm incredibly thankful for you.

Have a wonderful weekend! I hope to see you on Monday.

(And please do continue to keep those affected by the Black Forest Fire in you thoughts and prayers. Thank you.)

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

My frustration: 8 things I can't seem to master

I'm pretty good at a few things. I really stink at accomplishing other things, though, things many folks seem to have no problem at all achieving.

Here's my short-list of the latter:

8 things I can't seem to master

NOT one of mine, for mine don't even bud.1. Getting my irises to bloom. I have dozens upon dozens of (what I think are) irises in the back yard. The foliage sprouts from the ground every spring. The healthy green blades grow and grow and grow... then never become anything more than tall green sentinels guarding the rock garden. No blooms, no flowers, ever. They've been that way since we moved into this house. I can't seem to master making them bloom. They're not overcrowded, they're not in shade. They're not going to be allowed to stick around if they don't start doing something soon.

2. Finding the time to play with friends. I'm talking Words with Friends, Candy Crush and any other number of fun things folks play online with faraway friends and family. I've received many invitations, all have been ignored... or flat-out refused. I can't seem to manage my time to allow for play. Not even solo Bejeweled 3 play, and I love Bejeweled.

3. Photographing the moon. We had a fantastic full moon this past week. Despite having a great camera and using the correct settings plus a tri-pod, I still can't seem to master this. My latest effort:

4. Pretty summer feet. Soft and silky tootsies elude me. Despite pedicures, pampering creams, powerful pumicing and pretty polishes, my feet never reach soft and silky status. I'll spare you the photo; even at their prettiest, feet photos are funky.

5. Accepting my long-distance grandma status. Mac's birthday is June 1. Bubby's birthday is June 18. A joint party is scheduled for this Saturday. I can't be there, wasn't even invited to be there, as it's just accepted that I can't come. Accepted by everyone but me. I'm especially struggling with this one today.

Bubby and Mac, jumping on the trampoline in their jammies.

6. Commenting regularly. I try, bloggy friends. I really do try to get around to blogs and comment and let you know I enjoy what you're writing, doing, sharing. I read blogs via Feedly, marking those to comment on as soon as I have time. Then time evaporates. How do those of you who faithfully comment on blogs manage it? I really, really, really want to master this one. I welcome your tips.

7. Redesigning my blog so I have comment threading. Speaking of commenting, I also have good intentions of staying on top of replying to you wonderful folks who comment on my posts. My good intentions are thwarted primarily by no comment threading here on my blog. If I could pop in now and then and reply directly to each comment, I think we'd all be happier. I actually already have a sister site where I intend to move Grandma's Briefs. I have a few posts there, I have few photos there. Most importantly, I have comment threading there. But getting everything else there seems so incredibly daunting that I've not yet managed to wrap my head around it, much less master it.

8. Quitting. Despite my inability so far to master any of the above, I've not yet figured out how to quit trying. So I will keep trying. Chances are I'll eventually master at least a few. Except No. 5, of course, which is one I'm sure I will never master.

Today's question:

What have you not yet mastered but hope to eventually?

Walk MS 2013 — Photo recap

Thank you to everyone for the fantastic support of my participation in Walk MS 2013 on Saturday. I finished the three-mile course, only pooping out a tad at about the two-mile mark, then finishing strong thanks to the support of my fellow team members, Brianna and Andrea.

Here, a selection of photos from the event — many of the photos taken by team photographer Jim:

Lots to see and do.

Family support matters!

Toyota generously serves as Official Vehicle Sponsor of Walk MS 2013.

MS Society representatives (from left): Chelsea Hixson, local Walk MS Manager, and Kristin Gibbs, Vice-President of Development/Colorado-Wyoming Chapter.

Before the start and heading out...

With three miles under our belts (or fanny pack, in my case).

Even the dogs enjoyed the day.

Again, I sincerely appreciate the support of one and all. With your help we exceeded our team fundraising goal of $500. Thank you for helping make a difference!

Note: This is not a sponsored post for Toyota or the National MS Society; I'm simply appreciative of the positive difference made by both.

Today's question:

When the going got rough and I thought the MS might get the best of me, I kept telling myself to just "keep on keeping on." What is your motto when the going gets rough, physically or otherwise?