What I learned this week: I've become 'that' grandma

Fridays are typically when I share with readers far and wide what I've learned during the week. This Friday, though, because I'm currently at BlogHer 2013 and my head at this very moment is likely ready to explode with all the things I'm still learning this week, I'm going to share with you one of the things I learned last week.

And what I learned last week is this: I've become that grandma.

You know, that grandma who gives her grandchildren things like this:

Yep, I gave those to Bubby and Mac last week. Fancy-schmancy, sugary lollipops topped with two — count 'em, two! — ring pops. Each! Oh, the sugar they beheld. (I originally planned to share with you a photo of the nutritional info, too, but why spoil the fun?).

I was smart, though. See, I gave those sticks of sugary sweetness to Bubby and Mac just before I left for the airport to return home after spending a week with them.

So, yes, I've become that grandma. Not just the one who gives unhealthy jaw-dropping injections of sugar via irresistible treats, but the one who does so wisely, sugaring up up the children then heading for home, leaving Mom and Dad to deal with the sugar high and the subsequent low.

(Of course, I like to flatter myself and consider the subsequent low came not after the sugar wore off, but when the boys realized Gramma was gone, as they both had fallen asleep in the car on the way to the airport and the farewell was merely a foggy moment of interrupted slumber.)

Either way, I'm that grandma — and I'm pretty darn proud of it!

And that is what I learned this week.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

What I learned this week: Tattoos aren't as painful as I expected

I considered getting a tattoo years ago. I wanted something subtle and relatively small, and I flirted with the idea of getting a thin ankle bracelet tattoo of some sort. From what I hear, though, getting an ankle tattoo would be rather painful because there's so little fatty tissue on my ankles (well, on most days). I'm not a fan of pain, so I never got that — or any — tattoo.

Yesterday I finally got a tattoo, and it wasn't painful at all. I've no doubt that the pain-free application was because of the loving-yet-professional manner in which the tattoo artist worked. That tattoo artist being my grandson.

Bubby's tattooing technique elicited not even the slightest wince or grimace from Gramma as he applied the cheeriest of flower tattoos upon my ankle.

Tattoo work courtesy Bubby was done as a barter deal. Once he had completed my tattoo, I returned the favor by applying tattoos to him and his brother, Mac. The designs were admittedly less cheery than my smiling flower; the "Angry Birds" tatts were selected by each boy, as were the locations for their faux flair.

Despite Mac's woebegone look in the photo above, the process was as pain-free for my grandsons as it was for me. Which supported my assertion that getting a tattoo isn't as painful as I've assumed all these years. At least not when applied by my grandson — or by a grandma.

And that is what I learned this week.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. May it be as painless as the process of getting tattooed — with temporary tattoos, that is.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week? (And if you have a tattoo tale or two, please share.)

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: Reason No. 11 why I won't live near my grandsons

As many of you know, I live more than 800 miles away from my grandsons. When my daughter and son-in-law first told my husband and me we'd be grandparents, it broke my heart. I was certain I'd not survive unless they relocated to live near me.

They never did.

Of course, there was the option of my husband and me moving to live near them. A lot of grandparents do that, but it's just not in the cards for me. I wrote about my reasons for not doing so in this article. At the time I wrote it, one big reason I noted for not moving to be near my grandsons is the fact I have a life here in the mountains — a life that includes my (yes, adult and out of the nest) oldest and youngest daughters who live in the mountains, too, despite my middle daughter and her family preferring the desert.

There are other reasons why I won't live near my grandsons, and another I hadn't originally thought of became crystal clear this week.

I like to take photos. I'm not the greatest, though I'm working on getting better. Here are two I took of nature in all its glory while looking out the sliding doors to my deck this week:

 
A butterfly enjoying the dianthus.

A squirrel relaxing in the tree.

Compare those two photos to two my daughter took of nature in all its glory around her place this week. Keep in mind that this is my daughter who, along with her husband and my two grandsons, lives in the desert. Here are the photos she texted me:

A scorpion lodged inside the honeycomb window blinds.

A lizard in the garage — just outside the door to the house.

I'd say nature in the mountains (my place) is far easier on the eyes — and nerves — than nature in the desert (their place), wouldn't you?

The bottom line/the moral of the story being that if getting to see these two adorable kids...

 

... on a regular basis means seeing those two frightening critters on a regular basis, too, I'll take being a long-distance grandma any day. I'm not proud to admit that... but it's true.

And that is what I learned this week.

Well, I also learned that my daughter is far more brave than I ever thought she'd be, that little Meggie of mine who once (as a teen!) captured a spider in our family room late one night by placing a heavy bowl over it, then taping a note to the bowl asking me to take care of what was trapped inside once I awoke. Now look at her — taking photos instead of screaming and running!

(Now I hope I'll be just as brave and not be completely freaked out about icky desert things when I visit my daughter, son-in-law and grandsons in 10 days!)

Best wishes for a critter-free weekend, wherever you may be! I look forward to seeing you all again on Monday!

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?

Bubby can read!

Bubby recently graduated from pre-school, with plans to move on to kindergarten this fall.

Having a mother who's a teacher means Bubby has the privilege of private tutoring sessions to prepare him for the new school year. Here is one of his first lessons with teacher Megan, er, Mommy:

My, how time flies. Seems it wasn't that long ago that I posted photos of my precious grandson playing with his poop. Now he reads — unquestionably, a more pleasant pursuit.

Today's question:

Who was instrumental in helping you learn to read?

What I learned this week: One big thing, one small thing, and one in-between

Big thing: I do daily injections to help manage my MS. It's an expensive medication, and I'm very fortunate to have insurance that covers the majority of it. Despite that good fortune, I regularly complain about having to pay my portion of the co-pay — even after co-pay assistance.

A few days ago, my prescription for the medication was called into Walgreens by my new neurologist (see below). For the past five years that I've been shooting up with the stuff, the prescription has been filled by a "specialty pharmacy," not the local Walgreens. The new nurse who called in the Rx didn't realize this, though, and erroneously sent it to Walgreens... who soon contacted me to let me know there will be a bit of a delay while they await delivery of the meds and that my cost for the 30-day supply of injections will be $6000.09.

Yes, you read that right: SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS and NINE CENTS!

I about died. Then I immediately thanked my lucky stars — and God, too — for my insurance. And for specialty pharmacies. Then I canceled the Walgreens order.

Lesson learned: In mere seconds, I realized the importance of shutting up about my measly $35 co-pay portion when I could be paying $6000.09 per month. Or going without. I guarantee I'd be going without, if not for the insurance. 

Small thing: Speaking of my MS — which I really hate to focus on but this is indeed what I learned this week — I met with a new neurologist the other day. I'd been seeing the same one since being diagnosed in 1992. He was (is) an old, old man who finally, after practicing longer than I've been alive, chose to retire a few months ago. We had our last annual appointment a year ago. He told me then (his exact words), "You are a miracle, Lisa. You are one of the few who have figured out the mind/body connection. You are truly a miracle." That was the last time I saw him. Considering his advanced age, I took his exclamations with a grain of salt.

Fast forward to my appointment this week with my new neurologist, a young gal from India (whom, maybe this is crazy to admit, I chose from the list of local board-certified neurologists mostly because she reminded me of my friend Vidya from India). After discussing this and that, my new neuro had me run through a few physical tests. Her response: "You are strong!" Then she had me walk across the room. Her eyes grew big, a smile crossed her face, and she exclaimed, "You are a miracle, girl!"

I couldn't believe it. Very same words from the young neuro as had been uttered by the old neuro.

Lesson learned: I'm a miracle... at least in the eyes of my neurologists.

The one in-between: Yesterday my grandsons and I read one of my recent picture book acquisitions while on Facetime. Well, I read it to Bubby. Mac preferred roaming the house and finding a bone for Roxy while I read. Meh... he's two.

Our Facetime session was short, but just the sort of thing I need now and then to carry me through til I hug Bubby and Mac again. I like to think it's the sort of thing they need, too — even if treating the dog to a bone takes priority.

Lesson learned: Though it usually feels akin to pulling teeth to get myself added to my grandsons' busy schedule while 800+ miles away, it's worth it. For all of us, I hope. So I'll keep pursuing Facetime opportunities. Perhaps some Skype or Google+ time will eventually follow.

That, folks, is what I learned this week — though I've not yet fully committed to the "big, small, in-between" designation I've assigned each. Depending on the hour and my mood, the order certainly could be flipped, flopped, turned inside out. Still, those are my lessons, and I'm sticking to it.

As I mentioned last week, I'll be offline Saturday and Sunday, for the most part. I hope to see you back here Monday!

Wishing you a most marvelous weekend! Cheers!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

What I learned this week: I must make time for life... offline

 

Summer is upon us and the outdoors beckons. Which is why, after much back and forth, debating and deliberating, I finally learned this week what I must do: I realized/learned/confirmed that I must allow time in my schedule for life... offline.

Making the time for life offline will require some online changes. Changes to my blogging schedule, to be exact. See, I have been publishing a post on Grandma's Briefs every single day since July 25, 2009. Many of you have been reading those daily posts that long, too. Which is so incredible and heartwarming and humbling.

But I think we're all sitting on our butts and staring at screens far too much. I know I am.

So I'm proposing that now that summer has arrived, we not focus on Grandma's Briefs — at least not on the weekends. I'm talking only weekend-long breaks, as I couldn't bear to take a full-fledged summer-long break from blogging; it's in my blood now, and I could not survive without it. I hope you, too, couldn't bear to live without my blogging. (Yes, I do like to flatter myself now and again.)

But weekends, especially in the summer, beckon all of us to get up and move, to do something, to live. So I'm going to do my part this summer and no longer post the scintillating — and, yes, sometimes silly — stuff you've grown to expect in this space on Saturdays and Sundays.

It's going to be hard. My four-year habit will surely be difficult to break. But a break is what we all need. A break that gets us offline. At least on the weekends. At least for the summer.

With that said, consider this post the official notice that you will not find new content on Grandma's Briefs come tomorrow morning. That doesn't mean, of course, that you can't visit here on the weekends, if you choose. Grandma's Briefs will always be open, always welcome one and all who want to visit any day, any time, any page throughout the site. So if you do drop by on a Saturday or Sunday, feel free to catch up on anything you may have missed during the week.

(Of course, you just might see me drop in on the Grandma's Briefs Facebook page on Saturdays and Sundays; just nothing regular or scheduled, for sure.)

Now, as I said, it's going to be be a challenge for me to not share with you over the weekend. Proof being that I already had a doozy of a video to post for my regular Saturday Post feature. So I'm going to share it here today; I simply couldn't wait until Monday for this one.

This video came to my attention courtesy the awesome women at Better After 50. I hope it makes you chuckle as much as it did me.

With that in mind, I hope you'll remember come tomorrow that there will be nothing new happening here on Grandma's Briefs until early Monday morning. I hope I will remember that, too.

I'm pretty sure I will remember, though — because it's what I need.

And that is what I learned this week.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

What I learned this week: Sometimes the hassle is worth it

I take my dogs on a walk nearly every weekday morning. We walk as fast as my legs will take me, and the round trip is about a mile and a half. It's pretty much our go-to exercise — for the dogs as much as for myself.

I used to take my point-and-shoot camera with me each time, but ever since getting my DSLR, I've avoided taking it. The camera is fairly large and bulky, and even though it takes awesome photos and I love, love, love the camera (a Canon EOS Rebel T3i), it just seemed a hassle to wear it on my morning walks. Especially because I try to race-walk the majority of the way, and the idea of a camera bopping along on my chest from beginning to end of the walk didn't appeal to me.

This past week, though, I decided to try bringing it anyway. I keep seeing cool things on my walks, and I kick myself every time for not having my camera on me. I do carry my iPhone, but it just wasn't doing the job the way I wanted when I'd photograph this or that along the route.

Turned out that managing to keep two dogs in line while juggling my phone, my pepper spray (to avoid this happening again) and now my bigger, better camera is, yes, a bit of a hassle. But once I figured out to situate my camera along my side rather than hanging in front (to avoid it bopping on my chest), it really wasn't that big of a deal.

What was a big deal? The photos I managed to get, photos such as these:

Sure can't get such things on my iPhone. The hassle was definitely worth it.

And that is what I learned this week.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?