Stylin' grandsons

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When I was a child, I don't recall ever going to a salon to get my hair cut. My mom cut it. I had long, straight hair, so it was fairly easy to trim up here and there. None of the styling sessions stand out as memorable except for one particularly disastrous cut when I pleaded to have my hair cut like my favorite Liddle Kiddles doll. And my mom gave me exactly what I asked for.

Thing is, there's a big difference between the (artificial) hair on Liddle Kiddles and the hair on my head. My wannabee fancy curls, meant to coil and curl gorgeously around my ears, instead looked like horrendous '70s sideburns that refused to coil, lying straight and flat against each cheek...except when the slightest breeze caught them and they flapped up and down no more gorgeously than mud flaps on a moving van.

Surprisingly, that horrid haircut didn't dissuade me from cutting my three daughters' hair. I did, though, unlike my mother, have a minor amount of training in trimming locks, gleaned from my senior year in high school. Having earned all the academic credits I needed, I was allowed to participate in a certification program at the community college during my school hours. I chose a certificate in cosmetology over one in cuisine.

I never actually continued in the program after high school graduation so I never earned my cosmetology license, but my training did come in handy for cutting my girls' hair. (And for once giving Jim a perm. Hey, it was the early '80s. But we won't go there for he might kill me. Nor will I show you the photo of such only because he'd surely kill me, not because I'm not dying to share it here now that it's crossed my mind and I know exactly where that photo is.)

Anyway...

So I cut my girls' hair for many years. They had a salon visit here and there, especially during the years I was a nail tech/seaweed wrap giver, but for the most part, I was their stylist. Even to this day, Brianna and Andrea will ask me at various times to trim up this and that for them between their visits to a real stylist. I don't cut Megan's hair at all anymore...and I certainly no longer cut—or perm—Jim's hair.

My grandsons have had a different experience when it comes to haircuts. Perhaps it's a boy thing. Bubby once underwent a home haircut from Preston and his buddy Scott. And Mac suffered through a near shaving from Mommy for his first cut. But other than those two trimmings—or maybe because of those trimmings—Bubby and Mac always visit a salon for their hair snippin' and stylin'.

I've been lucky to be in town to witness several haircuts with Bubby. A time or two, the salon visit was made into a guys' day out, as Bubby, Preston, and PawDad had their hair done together.

My first time visiting the salon with Mac, though—who loathes having his hair cut—came only recently, during my December visit, when he and Bubby both hopped into the chairs at Supercuts. Here is my record of the experience:

 

PawDad has yet to visit the salon with both grandsons. Maybe we'll be able to fit that in next time he goes to the desert with me.

(And maybe we can convince Mac to get a perm with PawDad. Just for fun...and photos. And I'll be sure to share those photos here, the prospect of murder and mayhem inflicted by Jim be damned! Stay tuned.)

Today's question:

What is the worst haircut you ever received and who was responsible?

Grandparents and childcare: Long-distance grandmas can do it, too

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I must say, I'm one fortunate long-distance grandma. My good fortune—despite the bad fortune of my only two grandsons living 815 miles away—lies in the fact that I get to visit Bubby and Mac at their desert home in just a few weeks.

Again.

I just visited them in December.

And in October.

And in August.

Plus, they visited me and the rest of our mountain-dwelling family in June.

And there were a few times I visited the desert in the early months of the year, as well.

Do I have megabucks that allow me to keep my calendar marked with travel dates to see my grandsons, all to keep my heart from breaking over living so far away from them.

Not at all. In fact, this past year has been particularly challenging for me, in terms of finances.

It's been a good year for my daughter and son-in-law, though. Good in terms of finances because Megan went back to full-time work, and Preston is rocking the financial-advising world. Which translates to a good year for me because all their time committed to work means they need someone to babysit my grandsons.

Bubby and Mac do have their daily childcare needs met by an in-home provider—at their home—thanks to their great Aunt Katie, Preston's aunt. She watches Mac every day and Bubby every day that he's not at his two-mornings-a-week preschool. There are times, though, that Megan and Preston need the boys covered for 24/7 stints Aunt Katie can't cover.

And that's where I come in.

The reason I get to see my adorable grandsons far more often than the average grandma-bear might get to see her grandbears is because I come in pretty handy as a fill-in childcare provider. On Megan and Preston's dime.

As working parents, Megan and Preston have daycare built into their budget. And if anyone reading this knows anything about childcare costs nowadays, it ain't cheap. Gramma, though, does come cheap. At least not any more expensive to fly me there for a week and back home again than the cost typically paid for a week's worth of childcare.

A week of childcare with built-in Gramma time for the boys, all for one low price of plane fare.

Who wins in that scenario? All of us! I win. My grandsons win. Megan and Preston win.

As I added dates for my upcoming desert trip to my new 2013 calendar, I considered how grateful and how lucky I am, and thought that maybe other long-distance grandmas could be just as lucky, if only they took a chance and asked the parents of their grandkids to consider a similar arrangement.

Long-distance grandmas: Ask! Ask if you can help out with childcare for your grandchildren. And ask if they'll foot the bill to fly you to their home to do just that. Then you and your loved ones can win, too.

I'm definitely not the only grandma to do this. In fact, many years before I reached grandma status, I learned a former boss of mine had retired when her first grandbaby arrived and was traveling from Colorado to Chicago on alternating weeks to help cover childcare. Childcare is expensive; the manner in which parents now handle the juggling of it is far different from what we may remember from our own days of raising children while being employed.

Of course there are a few caveats:

  • Some childcare arrangements require the parents to pay for days the child won't be attending, so don't be offended if your offer of services is turned down for financial reasons.
  • It's likely only economically advantageous if you cover the childcare for a week. This could be for a week jam-packed with appointments and events for Mom and Dad, who wouldn't be leaving town, just busy. (I've covered such times). Or it could be a week in which Mom and Dad need to be out of town, be it for a conference or possibly even a regular ol' kid-free vacation for the parents. (I've covered even more of those times.)
  • And it's likely only comparable to the cost of their regular childcare if reasonable airfare can be arranged.
  • Also likely: The arrangement requires the traveling grandma to be self-employed or retired...or willing to use her paid time off from her regular job for the childcare stint.
  • A week as the sole childcare provider can be exhausting, especially for long-distance grandmas who don't care for kids often.

The bottom line: Childcare is a huge expense for families with young children, and that expense may be a bit more palatable if they can fit in some grandma time for the grandkids on that same tab, too.

It's worth asking. Trust me.

Today's question:

What was your childcare arrangement when your kids were young?