Gramma's wake-up call

When I visit Bubby, he loves to wake me in the morning. I'm supposed to stay in my bed until he creeps in and tells me "Good morning, Gramma!" Then he usually crawls into bed with me and we chat for a few minutes before heading downstairs for breakfast.

If Bubby happens to sleep late and I get up before he does, he chastises me with, "I was supposed to wake you up, Gramma!" I then either return to my bed and we go through the motions of how things were supposed to go down, or we agree that I'll stay in bed the following morning until my wake-up call from Bubby.

Bubby's alarms of choice include simply whispering "Good morning, Gramma," shaking a jingle-bell adorned dog collar, or blowing his harmonica. The first is a sweet way to start the day; the second two are mildly alarming. One morning this past week, though, there was this—at about quadruple the decibels of this video (or so it seemed):

Although not the way I typically rise and shine, I can handle bells and I can handle harmonicas rousing me from a deep sleep. A psycho hip-hop reindeer rocking the house—and my brain—right outta the REM stage not so much.

Actually—and this is no joke or exaggeration, folks—I thought I was having a heart attack. Honest. I didn't remember the psycho reindeer from previous trips so hearing it go off at 6:03 in the morning was the trippiest experience I've had in quite some time. And the scariest. And the closest I've come to my heart going into overload and exploding right there on the spot.

Bubby didn't know to what degree he freaked out Gramma because instead of screeching my instinctive response of "What the <cuss>? <Cussing> stop that <cussing> <cusser> <cussing> NOW!", I simply said, "Turn that off now, Bubby. It's morning and that's too loud for Gramma."

Then I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to calm my thunderous heart.

An hour later I was still trying to get my heart rate back to normal. And wondering what's up with the near heart attack. Then wondering if I'm getting too old for this grandma gig. Followed by wondering if "too old to be a grandma" is an oxymoron of some sort.

It didn't matter because my racing heart likely just means this grandma is simply way outta shape.

And way not into the hip-hop reindeer thing.

Especially as a morning wake-up call.

Today's question:

What serves as your morning wake-up call? (Bonus points to those who say whether or not they use the "snooze" function.)

Make-believe Gramma

A morning on the patio with Bubby in May.

At three years old, Bubby's imagination has blossomed. He delights in playing games of pretend, all make-believe and all played according to his rules.

One of Bubby's favorites is playing Fireman—usually with a policeman hot on the fireman's tail, for some unknown reason. When I'm visiting, I'm assigned the policeman role more often than not. In the role, according to Bubby's rules, I'm to chase Bubby the Fireman around and around while making a "police" noise dictated by Bubby, one impossible for me to replicate in writing.

Bubby also loves, loves, LOVES playing Water Monster at the Splash Pad. Some days Daddy is assigned the role of Water Monster; sometimes it's Mommy. In that game, the Water Monster chases Bubby all around the Splash Pad (or whatever water park they may be at), threatening to dump buckets of water on Bubby...who does his best to avoid the buckets yet squeals in delight when it (inevitably) happens.

This past week or so, Megan says, Bubby has devised a new game. And it stars me, or at least Megan pretending to be me. It's called The Gramma Game.

Before describing the game, here's a little background relative to the play. When I visit, Bubby and I typically start our day with some time on the patio—my only opportunity to enjoy the outdoors before the oppressive desert heat renders me housebound. I relax in a chair, cup of coffee in hand, while Bubby rides his trike around the patio, us chit-chatting back and forth all the while.

That minor yet clearly meaningful to him ritual has led to The Gramma Game. It goes like this: When Megan returns from her daily early morning run, she cools down on the patio for a few minutes. That's when Bubby joins her and proclaims "Let's play The Gramma Game. You be the Gramma and I'll be the Grandkid." He directs Megan to gaze out a pretend window and say, "I wonder where my Grandkid is. I miss him." Then when Bubby the Grandkid comes into view, she's to say "Oh, you're here, Grandkid! I missed you!"

("He's very specific about my actions, telling me what I should be doing or saying," Megan says, in explaining The Gramma Game.)

After exclaiming over how much Gramma has missed the Grandkid, Gramma gets to watch Bubby the Grandkid ride his trike—not the big-boy bike used for real rides—around and around on the patio. Just like the real Gramma does while visiting. Pretend Gramma/Megan watches enthusiastically until Bubby the Grandkid gets off his trike and asks Gramma if there's any "brefast in the pantry" because he's hungry.

Words can't describe how honored I am to have a game named after me. Nor can they describe how excited I am to soon be there to play it with Bubby. Only three more days and The Gramma Game will come to life. No more pretend, no more gazing out a window, no more missing my grandkid. Reality is so much better than the game.

In most cases.

There is one aspect of the game, though, that is indeed so much better than the reality. In The Gramma Game, Megan says, Bubby makes it clear he doesn't have to get on a plane to visit Gramma, he has only to ride his trike to reach me.

Ah, I would give anything for the reality to be as simple as the make-believe.

In reality, though, what I do give is thanks for the planes that bring Bubby to me and me to Bubby.

And for only three more days.

Today's question:

What games of make-believe do you recall from your childhood or those of your children?

Of bloggers and babies

Today begins the final countdown and prep work as I plan to take off for the two summer events I've most looked forward to. Well, beyond the early summer birth of Baby Mac, that is.

The first is BlogHer. In San Diego. With my friend and fellow blogger Heather from Jackadillo Princess. And three thousand other bloggers.

Heather and I leave Thursday morning and return Sunday night, and to say I'm excited about attending my first blog conference is truly an understatement. I'm also, though, quite anxious about the whole thing.

As I've noted before, I was once a shy young lass, and events such as this tend to cause me to revert to my lassie days and ways. Especially after learning that one of the features of the BlogHer conference is the "Serenity Suite," a "safe place" where attendees can escape the overwhelming crowds and relax. And vent to one of the caring bloggers taking turns hosting the suite, if you're in meltdown mode, overcome by the exhilaration of real-life interaction with one another. And the snarkiness that can accompany the real-life interaction of 3,000 (mostly female) bloggers vying for the attentions of one another as well as big-time potential blog sponsors and advertisers.

The idea that a Serenity Suite is necessary scares me a bit. But I'm hoping to have no need for it except to possibly put my feet up after walking the Expo Hall or partying down at one of the bajillions of parties planned for the duration.

I'm also hoping any negativity will be outweighed by the positive force that can be when a massive and dynamic group of women join together to support one another in something which we are all passionate—blogging.

Mostly, though, I'm hoping to come away with awesome ideas for taking Grandma's Briefs to the next level, ideas to bring back and share with you, ideas for you. Which is along with all the parties and the swag I'll nab the main reason this introvert is willing to pretend to be an extrovert for a few days anyway. Wish me luck.

While BlogHer is a definitely a high point of my summer, the event taking place just a few days after my return from it is the true blue highlight of the sweltering season for me: a trip to the desert (and its sweltering heat) to once again see Bubby and Baby Mac!

For six whole days I get to drop the "long-distance" qualifier from my name and be a real-and-in-person (and in charge) grandma to my grandsons while Megan and Preston head off to a resort to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. I'm packing my Grandma Bag, lining up activities, and making sure my camera battery is fully charged.

When it comes to the visit with my babies, though, if I'm wore out after crafts and cuddles, marathon storytimes, bathtimes for both, and chasing Bubby round and round while playing policeman to his fireman, I'll have no need for a substitute Serenity Suite. No, I'll just plop down in the rocking chair, situate one grandson in my arms and another by my side, and we'll rock away to our heart's content—a serenity so sweet on its own.

Today's question:

What are you planning and/or preparing for this week?

My reward for eating so much

I did something awesome and I just have to tell you about it. Many of you may have done it before ... possibly many times before ... but this is my first time. And I'm feeling pretty awesome about it.

With a post title such as it is, what, pray tell, might it be?

Well, get this: I got a free airline ticket. Round trip. Because I eat so much.

Okay, not really because I eat so much, but because I buy so much to eat.

At the grocery store.

And I use my Southwest Airlines Rapid Rewards credit card to pay for all that food I eat (with the help of Jim, the dogs, the cats, of course). Then I pay off the credit card when I get home from the grocery store.

And I gotta say, when Southwest named its loyalty program "Rapid Rewards" they weren't kidding. My points added up fast, primarily from grocery shopping but I must admit that I've done the same with other purchases, too. Actually, most purchases. At least all purchases I would normally pay for with my debit card. Yeah, it takes a little time having to go online to pay off a card right after making purchases, but how lazy might I seem if I complained about that?

So, in relatively lickety split time, I earned enough points for a free round-trip flight. Woo-hoo! (Well, again in all honesty, it wasn't completely free; I had to pay $5 for one of the fees that isn't covered by the rewards program.)

And where do you think I'll be going with my free flight?

Do you really need to ask? Really?

Okay, since you asked, I'll tell you: I'm using my free flight to visit Bubby and Mac. Again. Just a couple months after being there in June. Yep, I'll be flying Southwest in August to see these sweeties, the lights of my life:

Oh, I can't wait!

Why, you might also ask, am I still using Southwest even though I wrote a Dear John letter to them months ago when Allegiant came to town?

Well, since you asked, I'll tell you: I'm still using Southwest because the flight schedule for Allegiant is ridiculous, with only ridiculously early flights on ridiculously few days per week.

And because Southwest doesn't charge for bags. Grandmas need lots of luggage for lugging gifts to the grandkids, and Southwest doesn't ding grandmas for such things. Allegiant does.

Most importantly of all, though, is that Southwest rewards me. For eating so much. Or buying so much. Or both.

So yeah, I"m tooting my own horn for figuring out how to make the most of an opportunity many wiser and more worldly folks have likely long known existed.

And for having yet another opportunity to visit my grandsons.

This one for free.

In less than a month.

Woo-hoo!

Disclosure: This post may read like an ad for Southwest. It's not. I was not paid (nor even approached) to write this. Although I'm thinking more and more that those Southwest folks really oughta make me a Brand Ambassador, possibly pay me. Oh wait ... they did pay me ... with a free flight ... but that wasn't for gushing over them, it was for eating. Well ... you get the idea. They didn't pay me for this post. Even though I wish they had.

Today's question:

What is your favorite loyalty/rewards program, such as those for grocery stores, clothing stores, Starbucks, airlines, etc?

Road to recovery

For Bubby, the last five days were a road filled with icky medicine, popsicles, no appetite, pain, rough nights, and more popsicles during his recovery from tonsil and adenoid removal.

Today, things are nearly back to normal for him.

For me, the last five days were a road filled with hugs, cuddles, popsicles, reading picture books, playing "police" on the patio, bathtime, and some silly statements I'll never forget while visiting Bubby during his recovery from tonsil and adenoid removal.

Today, things are back to normal for me.

I have to admit, I think I got the short end of the stick in our return to normal. (Although I begrudge Bubby the long end of that stick not one eency teency iota!)

Today's question:

What has been the highlight of your week so far?

Do the zoo

Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, at 6,800 feet above sea level, is America's only mountain zoo. It has a 145-acre footprint, with 45 acres of that in active use for housing and displaying over 150 species — 30 of those species endgangered — and an animal count of more than 800.

I'm fortunate to have Cheyenne Mountain Zoo as my local zoo. I'm even more fortunate to have recently had the joy of visiting my favorite zoo with Bubby.

Today's question:

What zoo do you love to visit?

Keep on truckin'

I believe it's been well documented here that Bubby loves trucks. Garbage trucks, in particular. So when Nonnie Kelly (my mom, his great-grandma) came to visit him with a garbage truck gift — a garbage truck that makes noise and lights up, no less — Bubby was clearly in heaven.

He also was in heaven when he got to actually touch, not just see, the trucks PawDad had shown him during past Skype sessions.

Same goes for when he gave PawDad the monster truck he picked out himself for PawDad's birthday. The monster truck he just had to give PawDad early, before the party, because he was so excited for PawDad to play with it.

Glimpses of heaven also appeared while driving a Bubby-sized monster truck at Chuck E Cheese ...

... filling a dump truck in the back yard ...

... and building a "tower truck" all by himself for driving around Gramma's dining room.

Trucks, trucks, trucks. While Bubby was here, we played trucks, talked trucks, read about trucks, and named trucks every single time we saw one on the road, in a book, or on television. There were garbage trucks, of course, plus cement trucks, ice cream trucks, dump trucks, produce trucks, and more. Each time, we recited not only the type of truck, but what each one hauls, too.

Wednesday morning, Bubby had been gone not yet one full day when I had to take Mickey to the vet. All the truck talk was still on the brain, so I had to stop myself several times from saying to Mickey — who gives not one whit about trucks — "Look at that big one!" and "Hey, there's a yellow dump truck," and "Yay! There's a brown one!"

The brown ones were especially exciting for me to see, even without Bubby by my side, because although Bubby's favorite is garbage trucks, my favorite is the brown ones, the UPS trucks. For every single time I see one now, I will always and forever recall Bubby's enthusiasm when two UPS trucks passed by the window of a diner we ate at one evening during his visit.

"Brown ones! There's two brown ones!" he shouted as the UPS trucks slowed to a stop at the traffic light visible from our table.

"And what do the brown ones bring?" Megan asked him.

With no hesitation whatsoever, Bubby excitedly shouted, "Presents!"

Makes the shipping expenses of a long-distance grandma well worth it, I say.

Today's question:

Do you now or have you in the past owned a truck? What kind and how much did you love it?

Bubbyisms

Bubby will be here the end of this week and I can't wait to see him, hug him, hold him. I also can't wait to hear him, as the toddler now talks up a storm, saying things both cute and unexpected.

Here's a sampling of the Bubbyisms that made me chuckle the last time we were together:

• When I served up Gramma's homemade Mac-n-Cheese, Bubby took one bite and exclaimed, "This is my good mac-n-cheese!" (The kid has already figured out that flattery will get him everywhere with Gramma -- especially when it comes to her cooking.)

• Befitting the holiday soon following my visit, together we made Valentine cookies, made with "Ballentime num-n-nums," aka Valentine M&Ms.

• At one point, Bubby walked into the family room and saw toys on the floor he thought he'd picked up. He stopped in his tracks, put his hands on his hips and said in true puzzlement, "What in the WOOD?" (meaning "What in the world?").

• While giving me a tour of his new house, Bubby took my hand in his and said, "There's no ghosts here!" He was quite proud of that fact so I didn't question it ... and figured it was related to his fear of the "white thing" (the ceiling fan) in his old room. He clearly was convincing himself his new home -- which he had been in only one week and was still getting used to -- was far less scary than the old.

• When showing me his playroom and the wondrous mat on which he plays with his beloved cars, trucks and emergency vehicles, I was quite impressed with Bubby's language skills. Here he tells me about the route his "favorite" vehicles travel to arrive at the stadium for basketball games. They take not a road, a street, nor a highway ...

• One day Bubby and I got ice cream and ate it at the park, followed by playtime on the playground. When it was time to go home, Bubby said, "We gotta get home before the coyotes get us!" Coyotes aren't going to get us, I told him. "Wild pigs?" What? Wild pigs aren't going to get us! "Tigers?" he asked. I told him he's crazy and he seemed okay with that. I later learned Gramma was the crazy one who didn't know the game Bubby and his Daddy play regarding getting home before wild animals take off with them.

• Once Bubby gave up trying to engage Gramma in the wild animal game, we buckled up and headed for home. From the backseat, Bubby piped up with a clear and enthusiastic, "We had a GOOD day!" And that we did!

I look forward to several more good days with my favorite little man when he and his Mommy visit from the desert.

I also look forward to Bubby's excitement when he learns that Gramma and PawDad have an interstate, too. I expect exclamations of joy as we take it from the airport home!

Today's question:

Who most recently made you chuckle at something they said?