Can't help but grin

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Baby Mac didn't feel well during most of my recent visit, thanks to teething, a cold, and what turned out to be an ear infection.

That didn't stop my youngest grandson from giggling and grinning more often than not, though, even when feeling his very worst.

Yeah, I still have some work to do in mastering that new camera of mine. But you get the picture...for the most (precious) part.

Today's question:

When and why did you most recently laugh out loud (for real; no "LOL" funny business)?

Savor the moments

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Jim and I had three daughters in a short period of time. There are 16 months between the oldest and the middle daughters, 19 months between the middle and the youngest. Which means, obviously, our daughters are very close in age. In fact, for one month out of each year—roughly mid July to mid August—the girls' ages are consecutive.

Which also means, obviously, I was one very busy mama while raising them. I felt hurried and harried much of the time, and I rarely stopped to savor the sweetest and simplest of moments with my three girls, from their toddler to their teen years.

I'm trying to not make the same mistake as a grandma.

Things are pretty clear cut with Baby Mac because as an eight-month-old, what he wants, he pretty much needs...and gets. With three-and-a-half-year-old Bubby, though, it's different. His needs are met; his wants are up for negotiation. That's where my tack as a grandmother differs from the tack I took as a mother. When Bubby requests my participation, my attention, I do my best to stop the busy work and savor the moment. As long as his requests are reasonable, that is. And most reasonable he proved to be during my recent visit to the desert.

For example, "Gramma, can you play train with me?" was a reasonable request. So, despite not being one for typically enjoying sitting on the floor—and Baby Mac needing some attention, too—I busied Mac with some blocks, plopped down next to Bubby, and followed his lead of "You be Henry, Gramma, and I'll be Thomas." Moment savored.

Another instance: Bubby's bedtime routine typically features one bedtime story read. One night we finished the chosen book, and I stood from his bed to tuck him in, kiss him goodnight, and head out the door. "Can we please read this one, too?" Bubby pleaded, holding up a book. "It's soooo funny!" So I did, all the while savoring his snickers at "There Was A Cold Lady Who Swallowed Some Snow," savoring his sense of humor, savoring the moment.

When Bubby asked, "Gramma, can we build a fort?" I didn't hem and haw about the mess it would make. Instead, Bubby and I together built the fort to beat all forts, with tunnels and secret passages and cardboard boxes blocking out the light. Moment savored...and video captured of Bubby and Baby Mac savoring the fort again and again and again, with giggles galore as they chased one another through tunnels and more.

At snack time, Bubby wanted his snack in the fort. At naptime, he wanted the bedtime story read—to both him and Baby Mac—in the fort. Both requests filled. Easily. Both moments savored. Surely.

At the park, Bubby asked if I'd climb up the play structure and "play pirate" with him. Baby Mac slept in his stroller, within viewing distance, of course, as Bubby and I climbed and slid and shouted "Look out, Captain! They're after us!" again and again. Moment savored.

Most mornings of my visit, Bubby woke me with a gentle nudge on my knee—except for the first morning when he slammed open my bedroom door and shouted, "GRAMMA! It's morning time!" (My freakout at his announcement led to knee nudges going forward, I'm sure.) One day when I woke before him, Bubby watched me from the open bathroom door and said, "Gramma, after you're done brushing your teeth, will you start your day with me?" Request easily filled as that was my intent anyway. The sweet moment of his request, though, especially savored.

Requests of "Will you jump with me, Gramma?" brought leaps and bounds of joy each and every time we giggled and wiggled and waggled about on the trampoline—which was pretty much each and every time Bubby asked me to do so. And my request to him one night to lie quietly on the trampoline and look at the stars together was enthusiastically met with a resounding "Yes!" That grandson of mine, he truly gives as good as he gets. Moments savored—by both of us.

One of Bubby's favorite cartoons is Olivia, which begins with the inflation of a pirate ship bouncy house. Once, a discussion of bouncy houses ensued after the program began, and Bubby gushed about the most awesome of parties he was scheduled to soon attend. "It's gonna be so cool! There's gonna be a bouncy house and pizza!" he raved. "Do you want to come, Gramma? Maybe you can ask PawDad if you can come!"

This was one of Bubby's few unreasonable requests. Not because I wouldn't be in town at the time of the party or because I'm sure the guest of honor wasn't expecting grandmas to join in. No, I thought it unreasonable—and, more so, surprising—that Bubby naturally assumed I had to ask PawDad's permission to go to the party. My I-am-woman-hear-me-roar sensibilities wanted me to explain to Bubby that I don't need PawDad's permission to go to the party, that I didn't need his permission to do anything. Women, I considered telling my grandson, don't need permission from a man to do anything—we can do anything we choose.

What I chose to do, though, was to not tell Bubby those things. There's plenty of time for him to learn such lessons—and woefully little time that a precious boy earnestly and enthusiastically extends to his grandma invitations to birthday parties with pizza and bouncy houses.

What I chose to do was savor that fleeting moment instead.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

A moment I recently savored with my grandchildren or children was ___________.

Counting sticks

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I didn't mean to lie to you, dear readers, but I did. In this post right here. Today, though, I plan to set the record straight.

You see, in that post about filling my grandma bag for my trip to the desert, I mentioned an activity that used straws and pony beads for a nifty little activity to encourage counting and fine motor skills. I intended to pack those items in my grandma bag but hadn't yet done so. And once I purchased the straws and attempted sliding a few pony beads on them just to see how easy it would be for Bubby, the cussing and straw-scrunching that ensued made it clear the <cussing> beads didn't fit on the <cussing> straws and Gramma would need to make some adjustments to the craft.

So I did. And here's the skinny on the crafty counting sticks Bubby enjoyed making and counting with—and that garnered high praise from Megan, an early childhood educator who thought the idea was quite creative and useful for even a classroom of kiddos.

What you'll need:

10 extra-long pipecleaners (I used 10 as I figured counting to 10 would be reasonable practice for Bubby, who's three and a half. You could go higher, if desired.)

pony beads

1 or 2 index cards cut into squares an inch or so in size and neatly numbered 1 through 10

clear tape

What you'll do:

Fold up about an 1/8-inch on the end of each pipe cleaner and twist around itself so there's no pokey parts to stab little fingers. On one end of each pipe cleaner, tape a numbered square; laying the pipe cleaner across the back of the number and securing with a single strip of tape works just fine.

Your work is done!

Now give your child the pipe cleaners and a bowl of pony beads with instructions to add as many beads as the number on each end.

Bubby thoroughly enjoyed adding beads—picking out "special" ones—then counting them over and over on their sticks, just to be sure it was right. I enjoyed watching his intense concentration as he threaded beads then carefully counted.

Once all pipe cleaners were filled, we pulled off the beads and started all over again. In fact, these photos were from Bubby's second day of playing with the sticks (just after waking, I might add, hence the jammies and adorable bedhead hairstyle).

There! Record set straight: Straws don't work; pipe cleaners do.

Today's question:

Did you—or your children—use an abacus to help master counting?

Hanging up my grandma bag

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Some of you may recall posts I've written about my grandma bag, my nifty little tote of tricks for entertaining Bubby (and now Baby Mac) when I travel to visit them. Well, I'm hanging up my grandma bag, will use it no more. At least not my original bag, the one that looked like this:  

Because, folks, this grandma's got a new and improved and personalized grandma bag—a Christmas gift from my grandbabies—and it looks like this:

As I pack my new grandma bag for its inaugural use—my trip to the desert next week—I'm reminded of that old camp and Girl Scout game wherein everyone takes turns mentioning items they'll be packing for their trip to Spain or the moon or wherever the group decides they'll pretend to be going. You may recall playing it when you were young or with your kids. One person starts off saying something like, "I'm taking a trip to Kalamazoo and in my suitcase I've packed a pair of long johns." Then the next person goes, reciting what the first said and adding another item. Round and round the game play goes, with the list getting longer and memorization skills being more challenged (with memorization being much easier when there's an alphabetical theme to the game).

That game has been on my mind as I pack my grandma bag for next week's trip. Only my little ditty goes something like this: I'm taking a trip to the desert and in my grandma bag I've packed...Styrofoam bowls, pipe cleaners, pony beads, some drinking straws, a can of shaving cream, a package of aluminum foil, a roll of masking tape...

Why, oh why, am I packing such oddball items? I'm glad you asked, for they're not oddball at all once you see what I plan to do with those things, which are these activities I recently added to my "GRAND kids" board on Pinterest:  

In my grandma bag I'll have all I need for Bubby and me to make, from left to right above, colorful jellyfish using Styrofoam bowls and crepe streamers. They're sure to please both Bubby and Baby Mac and remind them—well, at least Bubby—of our recent visit to the aquarium.

The pipe cleaners will be used for all kinds of creative creepy crawly critters, taking our pipe-cleaner fun far beyond the pipe-cleaner hats and glasses Bubby and I made in the past.

With a handful of drinking straws and some pony beads, Bubby can work on his fine-motor skills and number recognition by threading beads onto straws to match the number glued atop each straw. Flexible drinking straws, with the flexy end opposite the number, can be flexed to temporarily keep the beads on once they've been threaded.

A roll of aluminum foil becomes a stream o' fun when rolled out across the yard, beginning at the water faucet. Scrunch up the foil edges to contain the stream, turn on the water to a trickle, and Bubby and Baby Mac will be mesmerized for hours. (Such wet fun can be had in the desert whereas we'd have frozen fingers and rivers fit only for ice skating if we tried such a thing at Gramma's house this time of year.)

We'll use the roll of masking tape—along with some of Bubby's kajillion cars—just like this:

And the shaving cream? Well, I have no Pinterest picture to share, but Bubby and I already know darn well what good, clean fun comes from mounds upon mounds of shaving cream during bath time. I think it's high time for Baby Mac to give it a try. I'll also throw a bottle or two of bubbles into my grandma bag for blowing bubbles in the bathtub, too.

Additional things I'll be adding to my new-and-improved grandma bag: books, movies, and music, along with my grandma apron to don while cooking up goodies for my grandsons.

I'm taking a trip to the desert and in my grandma bag I've packed...all kinds of things to keep Bubby, Baby Mac and me as busy as can be. I can't wait!

Today's fill in the blank:

I'd like to take a trip to ____ and in my bag I'd be sure to pack _____.

Friday field trip: Denver Downtown Aquarium

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As previously mentioned, we visited the Denver Downtown Aquarium during Bubby and Baby Mac's Christmas holiday visit. Here are some of the highlights:

As we were leaving, the caricaturist at the exit approached us to ask if Bubby could pose for him, for free, in hopes of drawing some attention and business for the vendor. Now, thanks to the unexpected kindness of that talented stranger, I can clearly mark the exact moment my grandson made the transformation from Politely Posing Bubby... 

into none other than Super Hero Bubby... 

Interested in taking a similar field trip? Find details here:

Denver Downtown Aquarium • 700 Water Street, Denver, CO 80211 • (303) 561-4450

Today's question:

If you could be any water-living creature, what would you like to be?

Running the Tough Grand Mudder

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There is a hardcore obstacle course event my daughters, my son-in-law, and many of Jim's and my nephews—and thousands of other unrelated but equally crazy competitive athletic sorts—hope to one day run. The Tough Mudder adventure series bills itself as "probably the toughest event on the planet" and it looks like this:

Last week I ran my own Tough Mudder of sorts. I call it the Tough Grand Mudder. It was a test of stamina, strength, grit, grace, and ultimate grandma skills as Bubby and Baby Mac, along with their parents, traveled over the river, through the woods, out of the desert and up to the mountains to spend the Christmas holiday at Gramma's house. Those who run the Tough Mudder have their strength and stamina tested in one day; this grandma's event ran pert near six days. (Take that, Tough Mudders!)

For much of the Tough Grand Mudder I was merely a secondary team member for when Megan was around, she served as Ultimate Champion and I her wingman. There were, though, many events I ran alone, as Megan and Preston took Gramma up on offers to babysit while they participated elsewhere in shopping, dining, happy-houring, and movie-going events. Whether running solo or accompanying Megan, fact remains that for nearly six days I braved not mud but harrowing liquids of another sort spewed, spilled and squirted from a three-and-a-half-year-old and a seven-month-old, in addition to braving obstacles and challenges sure to trip up even the most built and most brave of the Tough Mudder competitors.

A small sampling of my Tough Grand Mudder challenges:

• The solo event of spooning pureed bananas into the mouth of the youngest grandson while the other called from the bathroom, "Gramma, I'm done, I need wiped" then dashing to do the wiping, washing hands, and racing back to the child left alone in the highchair in record time.

• Tag-team bath time of two kiddos in the tub, Mommy doing the scrubbing and shampooing while Gramma photographed the session, then the hand off of Mommy taking youngest, Grammy taking oldest, then getting both dried, lotioned, dressed while the desert-bred babes shivered. (One run-through featured more liquid than inticipated—due not to the bath water but to a delay in diapering.)

• Another solo event requiring Gramma to entertain oldest grandson while changing a disgustingly stinky diaper on the baby then dash up a flight of stairs, out the front door, off to the garbage can to dispose of the disgustingly stinky diaper outside as it reeked far too much to keep inside then race back with mind-blowing speed in hopes of getting down the stairs before Baby Speedy Gonzalez entered unsafe zones of the family room. (Yes, baby could have been toted for the trip outdoors but with temps below freezing, that wouldn't be a wise route to take.)

• A family event in which all but baby sit down for dinner in the dining room and take turns taking a bite then quickly dropping utensils and jumping up to move baby away from the Christmas tree in the adjacent living room. Bonus points went to Gramma, Daddy, and Aunt B for being the only ones to actively participate in this event.

• Another solo event of attempting to make breakfast while oldest grandson requested every pot and pan (plus a few bowls) along with magical mixing utensils for banging then proceeded to set up a baking-and-banging shop for himself and his brother at Gramma's feet in the kitchen.

• Cleaning up after holiday meals while dodging a three-and-a-half-year-old racing through the living room, dining room, and kitchen while pushing his monster truck in the noisiest Monster Truck Race of the Century. Required consistent "Ready...Set...Go!" starting-line shouts from Gramma (and others) as well as appropriate cheers and awarding of trophies at the finish line...again and again and again.

• Feeding the baby a bottle while, for the three-and-a-half-year-old, making popcorn in Gramma's old-timey popcorn machine, serving it up in festive popcorn cups, and getting a sufficiently attention-grabbing flick going on the big screen. Another solo event—one in which feeding the baby his bottle was put on hold far more often than he appreciated.

• Non-stop chasing and non-stop redirecting of the quickest seven-month-old non-stop crawler, non-stop climber, non-stop curiosity seeker this grandma—probably this entire country—has ever seen.

I did all those events. And more. Maybe not with the best time, maybe not with the greatest of grace and ease, but I did them. I admit there were a few major events outlined in the original course that I couldn't fit in—making a snowman with Bubby, taking him to the PJB restaurant and to the soda shop, to name a few—but I completed the majority of the course as originally set. And—something I'm sure Tough Mudders cannot lay claim to—I even managed to get a blog post published each and every day during the event.

Competitors who complete the Tough Mudder likely get a T-shirt, possibly a medal, and they surely leave exhausted but with an immense sense of incredible accomplishment. I was handed no T-shirt, no medal for completing the Tough Grand Mudder. My rewards were far better—hugs and kisses, "I love you"s and "Thank you"s and giggles and grins galore. Plus photos, lots and lots of photos. And I, like the Tough Mudders, was utterly exhausted at the end but felt an immense sense of incredible accomplishment.

I've heard—and have seen in my daughters—that participating in running events and athletic challenges can be addicting. I now understand the addiction, the attraction. There's another Tough Grand Mudder event scheduled for the end of January, this time in the desert. My battle cry? Sign me up! I'm one tough grandmudder and I'm ready for more!

Today's question:

What was your biggest challenge over the holidays?

Adventures in a new dimension

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Not long after being laid off from the newspaper in 2008, I started a freelance gig I called Five Buck Bits. It was a source of news briefs (briefs being my theme for some time now) for regional parenting publications, bits they could purchase from my website for $5 per bit to add to their publications, online or in print.

One of the bits I wrote regarded the appropriateness of taking youngsters to 3-D movies. In part, here is the advice from that brief:

Parents planning on taking their children to see one of the season’s popular 3-D films need to know how to determine if the kids can see 3-D, then prepare them for what will happen during a 3-D movie if they have never seen one before.

Dr. Brad Habermehl, President of the College of Optometrists in Vision Development, says many children may miss out on all the excitement if they can’t see 3-D. “Unfortunately, most parents have no idea how their children see their world, and children don’t complain if they can’t see 3-D.”

Consider the signs. Your child may not be able to see 3-D if he or she:
• is clumsy—spills milk when going down stairs, climbing play structures or avoids them all together;
• has difficulty hitting or catching pouring, trips while walking, bumps into things;
• is scared of escalators, a ball.

<snipped to shorten for this post>

If your child can see 3-D, it’s still best when a child has never seen a 3-D movie before to prepare him beforehand for what he will see. Explain to your child how with most movies the picture stays on the movie screen. But in 3-D movies, the picture will look as if it is filling the whole theater and viewers may feel like they can reach out and touch the characters. Also be sure to tell your child ahead of time that if he doesn’t like what he sees or he feels uncomfortable, he can close his eyes until he feels comfortable opening them again.

During the 3-D movie, keep an eye on your child, watching for any signs of a headache, nausea or dizziness during or shortly afterwards. ...

Because of that little brief written more than a year ago, I've been hesitant about taking Bubby to see a 3-D movie.

During his Thanksgiving visit to his paternal grandparents, though, Bubby was treated to the newest Happy Feet movie. In 3-D. And he did just fine! No headache, no nausea, no dizziness. (Although Megan did tell me that, for some reason, he decided to wear his 3-D glasses upside down the entire time.)

With the success of Bubby's first venture into 3-D, I now feel safe in taking my grandson—along with the rest of the family—to a 3-D movie while everyone is together for the Christmas holiday. This is what I'm planning for us to see:

 

Maybe we'll all wear our 3-D glasses upside down for the duration of the film, just to add yet another dimension to the adventure. (Except for Baby Mac, of course, whose eyes I'll likely be shielding for safety's sake.)

Today's question:

What is the first 3-D film you recall seeing?

Cookies = Christmas

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One major mile-marker on my road to Christmas has been passed: I hosted my family's annual Cookie Swap on Sunday.

The lineup of goodies swapped was impressive:

And the time with family was festive (with a large chunk of it dedicated to football, as expected):

My mom and sisters and I have been swapping holiday cookies for about a quarter of a century now, and Sunday's gathering had four generations of the family in attendance.

Cookie Swap prep time and baking can be quite a chore, but it's one well worth it as I hope the tradition will continue for many more years to come, for many more generations to enjoy.

Today's question:

If you had to eliminate all sweets and treats from your holiday diet except for one, which one seasonal goodie would you keep on enjoying?

Friday feel-good

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Seems that yesterday's post caused many readers to tear up a bit. I offer no apologies for that since I judge the success of a post by how many folks I can make cry shed a few tears myself while reading the comments. Let's just call it even.

Crying now and then can be good for the soul, I've been told, so I appreciate that we can help each other out in such ways now and again.

But, enough crying.

Today I offer up a wee bit of levity for one and all by way of my newly donned holiday briefs on the site banner, a festive holiday poem, and a simple holiday question from "The Christmas Conversation Piece." (Oh, and a laughing holiday horse—or is it gagging?—thrown in, too, just for kicks.) Consider it a Friday feel-good of sorts, simply because I adore alliteration. And because I hope it brings a smile to your soul on this final day of the work week.

Here goes...

Christmas Pie

Lo! now is come our joyfull'st feast!

Let every man be jolly;

Each room with ivy leaves is dressed,

And every post with holly.

Now all our neighbours' chimneys smokes,

And Christmas blocks are burning;

Their ovens they with bakemeats choke,

And all their spits are turning.

Without the door let sorrow lie,

And if for cold it hap to die,

We'll bury it in a Christmas pie,

And ever more be merry.

~ George Wither

photo: stock.xchng

Today's question (from "The Christmas Conversation Piece"):

What is your favorite Christmas sound?