Friday field trip: Children's Museum of Phoenix

On the final day of my recent stay with Bubby and Baby Mac, we went to the Children's Museum of Phoenix. The museum is located less than 10 minutes from the airport, so it was a great way to end the visit—and gave us a spot to play in case my flight was delayed.

The Children's Museum of Phoenix is three floors of fun and one of Bubby's favorite places to play. It was Baby Mac's first time there, and he found plenty of fun himself.

We started on the top floor, with the plan to work our way down. The "Noodle Forest" is the highlight there and something Bubby couldn't wait to show Gramma. Right outside the forest is a paint-with-water activity that proved Baby Mac to be a passionate artist.

It was just the beginning of my last few delight-filled hours with my grandsons:

 

Other exhibits on the third floor include a shopping market, ice cream cart, a "Texture Cafe" for making meals with various materials, a "Grand Ballroom" where you can see the chain reaction from beginning to end, make-believe pickle and pencil cars, and much, much more. It's easy to see why the third floor is Bubby's floor of choice.

The second floor features a "Building Big" room for making forts of all shapes and sizes, a trike wash, and an art studio with ongoing projects (Bubby made a pretty butterfly and helped paint a purple rocket).

On the first (atrium) floor, the main attraction is the Schuff-Perini Climber, a climbing gym like you've never seen before. It's visible from all floors, and I climbed with Bubby all the way to the top...in a dress and thankful it was a rather slow day so Gramma could take her time. The first floor also has a Whoosh! machine of connected tubes where kids can feed nylon scarves through and watch them fly—one of Baby Mac's favorite exhibits, along with the many "Baby Zone" play areas throughout the museum.

The atrium wall is lined with a stunning display of CDs hanging from top to bottom. A museum worker told me children from around the area, including a school for homeless children, wrote wishes on the CDs to be hung on the wall at the museum's opening about four years ago. She said the wishes are touching and sometimes heartbreaking to read, everything from "I want an iPod" to "I want my daddy to come home."

Our visit to the museum was exhilerating—and exhausting. Bubby and Baby Mac were sound asleep in their car seats by the time we made it to the airport, just minutes after leaving the museum. When Megan dropped me off at the departure curb, I opened Bubby's door to give him a farewell kiss; with eyes still closed, he mumbled, "I love you...send me mail." Totally zonked-out Baby Mac got a kiss, Megan got a hug, and Gramma headed for home.

The Children's Museum of Phoenix was a great way to end my visit to the desert. We just might have to make pre-flight visits there a farewell tradition.

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

Children's Museum of Phoenix • 215 N. 7th Street, Phoenix, AZ 85034 • (602) 253-0501

(If you want to see the full pictures from our visit or see them more slowly, feel free to take a look in my Brag Book.)

Today's question:

If you were asked to write a wish on a CD like those in the stunning display at the Children's Museum of Phoenix, what would today's wish be?

Grandma's going to the desert and in her bag she'll pack...

I leave Friday for a twelve-day visit with my grandsons—seven days of which I'll be sole caretaker of kids while Megan and Preston attend an out-of-state conference.

In campfire-game fashion, I've made a list to ensure I remember all I need for the duration of my longest desert stay yet.

Grandma's going to the desert and in her bag she'll pack...

A — Aluminum foil for trying the back yard foil river we never got around to doing last time.

B — Bandaids to share with the boys. Decorated with VeggieTale characters.

C — Coffee. Lots and lots of it. (Okay, I'm not really packing the coffee but I've made sure it's included—in bold letters—on my list of demands that Megan have on hand.)

D — DSLR camera manual. And the camera, too. In hopes I can figure out a few more fancy functions while I have super subjects for shooting.

E — Earth-friendly crafts from Green Kid Crafts. The owners of the subscription service sent me several packets o' fun to review with Bubby, including Pirate Loot, Fishbowl, Great Horned Owl Mask projects and more.

F — Frozen Planet DVD. I'm excited to share it with Bubby.

G — Glasses. And a spare pair of glasses, too. I can no longer fake my way through reading small print—sometimes not even large print—and must bring a spare just in case something happens to the first pair.

H — Humor, or a good sense of it. From what Megan says, I'm likely gonna need it as the boys have been pills of varying sorts for the past week or so.

I — Ibuprofen. I'm pretty sure I'll be needing these pills for the above-referenced pills. If they really are pills. The boys, that is, not the pain reliever.

J — Jammies that are sufficiently grandma like as I don't want to scar my grandsons for life with any unintentional over-exposure.

K — Kitchen stuff. To include vanilla candy coating, sprinkles, and my grandma apron for making Confetti Popcorn with Bubby.

L — Laptop. A telecommuting working grandma can't leave home without it.

M — Music. On my laptop, on my iPhone. Because everything's better with music...and dance parties with cute boys. Cute boys named Bubby and Baby Mac, of course. (Well, named that at least here on the blog. In real life, those cute boys go by even cuter names.)

N — Ninety-four things I'm forgetting about as of this writing. Luckily there's still time for me to remember what those ninety-four things are. I hope.

O — Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year by Anne Lamott. In-flight reading material my good friend Heather recently bought and had autographed for me. (I'll be finished by then with Lamott's excellent book about becoming a grandma, Some Assembly Required. Huge Anne Lamott fan here.)

P — Power strip for ensuring I'll have plenty of spots for plugging in my laptop, camera, and iPhone each night as I nestle into bed.

Q — Quality hugs, kisses, and grandmotherly attention to be doled out in excess.

R — Realm for Women by Erox perfume. I really stink at accessorizing, but I always wear a (light!) squirt of an understated perfume. I like to smell good. And I like to think my grandsons will always remember that Gramma smells good. (Not that my Realm was purchased with them in mind. It was actually a gift from Jim—who always remembers that I like to smell good.)

S — Stickers! Race Cars Sticker Fun for Bubby.

T — Treasure. Also known as coins. PawDad always gives me treasure I'm supposed to pass along to the grandsons. Most times I do; sometimes I forget. (Just kidding, PawDad.)

U — Underwear. Because I had nothing else that started with a U. Well, because they're a necessity, too, but you know what I mean. Umbrella is the typical U word in such lists, but it's not likely I'll need one as the forecast's for triple digit heat while I'm there. (Maybe undertaker would have been more appropriate as the heat just might do me in.)

V — VeggieTales: Robin Good and His Not-So-Merry Men DVD.

W — Water balloons and the nifty gadget that makes them easy to fill. Will be So. Much. Fun. Especially on the trampoline.

X — X-tra patience. "See H — Humor" above.

Y — Yellow crayons...and every other color of crayon, too, to be used with the coloring book I'm packing.

Z — Zoris. I received a pair of Neat Zori sandals for review, but Colorado weather is not yet conducive to sandal wear. Days in the desert, though, are a perfect opportunity to see how the shoes stand up to days upon days of active fun in the sun.

photo: stock.xchng/bb_matt

Today's question:

Any recommendations of things I should add to my bag?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

As I'd mentioned we'd hoped to, Jim and I spent Saturday afternoon at my sister's ranch, and we were delighted Brianna accepted our invitation to join us.

We rode ATVs...

Gave target practice our best shot...

Indulged in a little horseplay...

And enjoyed time with family we hadn't seen in a while...

Three things I learned from the day:

1. Allow more time next visit so we can go on an actual horseback ride after warming up the horses in the corral.

2. I'm a far better shot with a .22 than I—or anyone else—expected, especially considering I had never shot a gun of any size before. A "natural" even, according to the best ranch host ever, my nephew Coltan.

3. I'm still a big chicken when it comes to ATVs. I (reluctantly) rode with Jim to the shooting range; after target practice, I told them to enjoy their wild four-wheeling in the canyon without me and walked back to the house. Which was fine because it allowed me to add a few scenic photos to my collection of 980 photos from the day.

Today's question:

What were your picture-perfect moments from the weekend, whether you had a camera in hand to document or not?

Grandma's a chicken

♪♫ "Grandma's a chicken. ♪ Grandma's a chicken." ♪♫

That's what my sister told me last week.

Well, no she didn't.

I'm not only a chicken, I'm a liar, too. My sister didn't tell me that at all.

That's just what I felt like after getting off the phone with her. Not only did I feel like a chicken, I felt like a party-pooping chicken at that.

See, my sister and her husband own a ranch. With lots of outdoorsy activities for energetic people with get-up and go and gumption. And last week she called to invite Jim and me to spend a day or two at the ranch.

"We can go four wheelin'!" she said.

To which I immediately said, "Uh, no. I'm not a four-wheelin' kind of person."

"Not canyon-wall-climbing kind of four wheelin', you silly goon," she swore.

Still, my answer was no.

"Then you and Jim can ride the ATVs!"

"Definite no on that!" I quickly countered. After many years as editor of a parenting magazine and receiving a plethora of press releases from safety organizations of all sorts proclaiming ATVs the deathtrap of all deathtraps, my invitation to hop on a deathtrap just for the heck of it was DE-CLINED. No ATVs for me. Or Jim.

"Well, you can sit in the hot tub."

We have a hot tub...that we never use...and recently emptied because we never use it. Not a big draw for either of us.

"Jim can shoot things! We have a shooting range and everything you can imagine to shoot with. Manly violent stuff Jim will like."

Jim with a gun? Now THAT is scary?

"And we have horses! Do you like horses?"

Of course I like horses. Who doesn't like horses?

"And would you get on one?"

Umm...maybe.

I texted her a few days ago. Yes, we'll come this weekend, I told her.

And, yes, I'll ride a horse. Which I've not done since the late '90s when a family trip to Estes Park included a horseback-riding excursion. I'm crossing my fingers she'll saddle up one that's more of the walkie-walkie not trit-trot-trit-trot-gallopy-gallopy-gallopy sort.

And, yes, Jim will shoot things, I added. Maybe. (He has no idea I told her yes on that one. The shooting range will be a test of possibly unrealized machismo; this paragraph a test to see if he reads to the end of my posts.)

"Good. Then he can go on an ATV ride, too," she offered. "A sissy one."

We'll see—on all counts.

I'll keep you posted on all counts.

Including whether I chicken out and sit in the hot tub instead.

photo: stock.xchng/jdrjosh

Today's question:

What are your plans for this weekend?

Pledge of the long-distance grandma

We all know the pledge of the United States Postal Service: “Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail shall keep the postmen from their appointed rounds.” I propose a similar pledge for long-distance grandmas, only the obstacles—at least in my case—go far beyond the basic blustery weather.

For example, when I visited Bubby and Baby Mac last August, I encountered a haboob that delayed my return home:

 

Then, when Jim and I drove to see our grandsons last October, the return trip featured an epic traffic situation that left us sitting—literally, at a standstill—on the interstate for three hours:

And last night, as I attempted to make my way home from a week with Bubby and Baby Mac, a blizzard threatened my return, resulting in delayed arrival (and fears arrival wouldn't happen at all, courtesy of the pilot stating as we prepared to take off into the storm, "We'll give it a try and we'll see what happens"):

 

Okay, okay...the photo above isn't an actual shot of last night's snowstorm, but you get the idea.

Yes, like the Postal Service, neither haboobs nor treachery on the highway nor snowstorms of any significance can keep me from my appointed rounds with my grandsons. But...all of the above and more sure as <cuss> muck up my return home after each and every visit anymore, without fail.

I've had enough, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!

Well, at least not until April, that is. For in April I take my next trip to the desert to play full-time grandma again, and I won't let <cuss> conditions of any sort keep me from getting there.

Getting home, though, will unfortunately surely follow what has become this long-distance grandma's traveling protocol. Especially considering that April is typically one of the snowiest months in the Rockies; I can pretty much tell you now getting back home afterwards isn't going to be easy. Or fun.

My grandsons and their parents can still count on me being there, though. Like I said, it's not the getting to them that's the problem, it's getting back home again. But the USPS pledge gives no guarantee nor particulars on the return of its postmen. The same shall apply to the long-distance grandma pledge, too—whether I like it or not.

Snowstorm photo: stock.xchng/tes

Today's question:

What obstacles do you anticipate encountering in your travels this weekend—even if only to the grocery store?

The Saturday Post: Project Yosemite edition

I would love to be a world traveler. Thing is, I've not even seen much of the United States. So before I set sail across seas near and far, I need to spend some time in my own back yard, my own country.

With that in mind, one of the destinations at the top of my National-Parks-I-must-see list is this, Yosemite National Park. The following beautiful time-lapse video does much to tide me over until I can get there:

Today's question:

Which National Parks are your favorite? Which do you hope to eventually see?

The Saturday Post: National Old Rock Day edition

Thought the holidays were over? Think again, for today is a holiday of a special sort: It's National Old Rock Day!

In recognition of National Old Rock Day, here is a video of some of the oldest rocks in town, my town: the glorious rock formations of Garden of the Gods. And to double your pleasure for National Old Rock Day, the video is accompanied by a rendition of a popular tune by some old rockers themselves, Led Zeppelin. (If you don't like Zeppelin—or if the rendition grates on your nerves as it did mine after a mere moment or two, despite being a huge Zeppelin fan—just mute it; the imagery is worth viewing in silence.)

Not only is Garden of the Gods mere minutes from my home (25 to be exact, per Google), it's where Preston proposed to Megan in 2005...at sunrise. Sweet!

Happy National Old Rock Day!

Today's question:

What does the term "old rock" make you think of?

Friday field trip: Denver Downtown Aquarium

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?

Road tripping (or, Why one should never ever drive through New Mexico)

Middle daughter Megan and her hubby Preston moved to the Arizona desert right after they got married in 2006. Jim and I have visited them—and our subsequent grandsons—several times since then. Always by air, though, never by car.

We decided to make our most recent trip there by car. "We gotta do it at least once," Jim said. So we did. And here are some of my ever-so-deep thoughts and observations about our road trip from the mountains to the desert and back again:

• Other states (and even the nether regions of my own state) are home to some pretty awesome wildlife, according to road signage. My fave previously unseen caricatures posted along the Interstate: elk featuring impossibly massive racks and bear resembling bumbling buds of Yogi.

• New Mexico has an unbelievable number of crosses along the Interstate, memorializing loved ones who had lost their lives along the way. Really, an unbelievable number. Like 50 or more just on the route we traveled. Jim says it's because New Mexico drivers are the very worst <cussing> <cussing> drivers in the nation. I think it's more because of the high Hispanic culture in that area, folks who are likely Catholic and more likely to honor the departed with the tributes. (I kind of liked my explanation but apparently Jim is correct. According to the NHTSA: New Mexico's crash and fatality rates are consistently higher than the national average. But, I must add, it's not because NM drivers are the worst but because it has become a heavily traveled "bridge" for travelers and freight.)

• Traveling through New Mexico will always and forever remind me of the first time Jim and I did so together. With the girls, we headed to Carlsbad Cavern and spent many hours of the drive looking for roadrunners. Roadrunners that looked like THE Road Runner, because we were young and naive...and hadn't traveled much...and certainly had never seen a roadrunner. Imagine our embarassment—which we kept to ourselves, of course—when we saw postcards in a tourist spot of the real roadrunners that speed along the New Mexico highways and byways.

• "Safety corridor"? What the heck is a "Safety Corridor" along the Interstate. Signs told us when we were entering one. Signs told us when we were leaving one. But never did we see a sign that told us what the heck it was. Were we supposed to duck? Lock the doors? A sign did tell us to turn on our lights for safety...which made no sense in the middle of the day in the desert, but we turned them on anyway. Much to our surprise, we got through safely...and were never transported to another time or dimension. (Well, I just researched the term for this post and gave thanks we made it out alive. The areas are named such by the DOT because of their high numbers of fatalities. I would think a more appropriate name would be a NOT-Safe Corridor. That's the government for you, I guess.)

• Being stuck for three freakin' hours between miles and miles of semis on an Interstate brought to a standstill by an accident sucks. Really. If you follow Grandma's Briefs on Facebook or Twitter you found out in real time on Tuesday how much I thought it sucked. Because of posted photos such as these:

• I'd always driven the highways and byways with the notion that when it comes to road ettiquette and challenges between semis and smaller vehicles, the semis always win. That's not always the case, I now know. When two semis tussle and tangle, neither wins, evidenced by the disastrous (and surely deadly) accident that caused the aforementioned traffic jam.

• Listening to Tina Fey reading "Bossypants" by Tina Fey is an enjoyable way to pass the time while on the road. Jim and I both agree.

• Listening to Kirsten Kairos reading "The Darkest Evening of the Year" by Dean Koontz is not. Jim and I both agree. (But we finished it anyway since we had hours and hours to go before we could sleep...or stop. And because I'd not gotten around to putting "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay" by Michael Chabon on the iPod.)

• When driving 15 miles per hour over the speed limit at night, what scares me most is the possibility of one of those wild and wacky animals mentioned above—or deer or skunk or fox or Road Runner with Wile E. Coyote on his tail—running out in front of me. Even more so than signs declaring icy bridges and falling rock. (Although not quite as much as becoming one of those crosses. Well, on second thought, hitting an animal while going 90 miles an hour just might result in exactly that, so yeah, the animals are still scariest.)

• Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads...at least not anymore. At least not for visits to the desert. Because we'll be flying next time. And every time forever going forward. Yeah, I know, life is a journey not a destination and all that blah, blah, blah. But when my grandchildren are the destination, I'll take that over the journey any day.

(Plus, now that I've researched Safety Corridors and New Mexico traffic fatality statistics for this post, I can guarantee you we will never, ever drive that route again. Nor will I ever encourage friends and family—or strangers—to take a road trip that way. Take the plane, folks. It's safer—and I can provide statistics to prove it, if you need them.)

(One more thing: If you live in New Mexico, get out! Now! Run for your lives! Better yet, take a plane...it's safer. Again, I can provide statistics to prove it, if you need them.)

Today's question:

How do you pass the time when on road trips?

Reason No. 116 why I love where I live

This was my view while walking my dogs yesterday:

 

America's Mountain: Pikes Peak

Yep, I love where I live.

Today's question:

What is the view from your street today?