Pint-sized patient

Now that it's over, per Megan's request that I wait until it's done, I can now tell you that Bubby made it safely through his tonsil and adenoid surgery yesterday. Although originally scheduled to spend one night at the hospital (with Mommy) because he's so young, Bubby did such an awesome job of recovering quickly that he got to go home mere hours after the surgery. After he got his promised ice cream, of course.

I'll be flying to the desert tomorrow to help out with nursing-and-popsicle-serving duty during the hours Mommy and Daddy have to be at work. While I'd be thrilled to rock and hold him as he recuperates, if needed, I'd be even more thrilled if Bubby bounced right back to 100 percent and we could be out and about hunting down javelinas during my visit.

Whatever his condition, I can't wait to see the brave little guy.

Today's question:

Raise your hand if you've ever seen a javelina. If not, what's the most unusual animal you've ever encountered outside of a zoo?

Responsibility waived

Like many bloggers, I receive countless e-mail press releases. Every day, my inbox is stuffed full of information on products, events, causes, and points to ponder or panic about.

Most of the press releases relate to matters of parenting. I get them because PR folks cast a wide net instead of doing their job and researching the folks they target many non-grandma marketers believe that mothers and grandmothers have the same interests and concerns when it comes to children.

I've recently received information on:

• Internet safety programs

• College financial aid handbooks and assistance

• Theft of children's social security numbers

• Proper nutrition for adolescents

• Fitness center memberships for families

• Homework helpers and student enrichment

• Plush hats with pocket for ice packs to soothe bumped heads

• Fun-in-the-sun travel packages with childcare available at participating hotels

• The latest "snotsucker" for kids (Honest! That's what it was called in the press release!)

That's just a sampling of the information. And what have I done with all that information? I've hit the delete button. On all those above and more. Lots more.

Much of the info I receive is worthy and interesting; my deletion of it isn't due to lack of interest. It's due to lack of responsibility. Because as a grandma, responsibility for oh-so-many matters no longer lies with me. Thankfully.

As a grandma, I don't have to monitor nutrition or Internet safety. There's no need for me to search for childcare options, plan college funds (although I'm happy to add to one), or struggle to keep my child's identity safe and secure. I'm not required to figure out ways to get homework done without full-blown battles. Most of all, I don't have to suck snot out of babies.

Nope, I'm not responsible for any of the day-in-day-out tasks required of a parent.

And that, my friends, is yet another one of the many awesome things about being a grandparent: We reap many rewards but bear little responsibility.

I simply can't think of a better position than that.

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What is one of the awesome things about your current position — as grandparent, parent, working gal, high-wire acrobat or otherwise?

Of kids and conflicts

Will ALL my grandkids be as delightful as Bubby?Anyone who has worked with kids knows that you don't like every single one of them equally. Some of them you may not really like at all.

Or is that just me?

When I was a Girl Scout leader, there was one particular girl who, naturally because I didn't care for her, was in my troop every single year for several years. And every single year for several years she drove me nuts. She was quite spoiled and a "mean girl" and "queen bee" in the making. She interrupted. She demanded attention. She demeaned the other girls. She strove to be the star of the troop, the class, the musical performances at school. And she had no qualms about stepping on her fellow Girl Scouts and classmates in her climb to getting her own way.

Yes, out of the twenty-plus kids I worked with regularly, this one spoiled girl irked me to no end. And my daughters knew my feelings for her. Once, in the heat of the moment while arguing with the girl, Megan let fly that I didn't like the girl. So I received a phone call that evening from Ms. Spoiled Girl's mother and I had to backtrack to save face ... and supposedly the feelings of the youngster. (Although I doubt her feelings were hurt; I'm pretty sure it was simply another manipulation tactic. Yes, she was only in third grade, but trust me on this.)

That was years ago. I currently work with a passel of kids again in my tutoring site coordinator stint. They're all pretty darn good kids. Thankfully, none are as annoying as Ms. Spoiled Girl, but I definitely don't adore each and every one of them.

Which has set me to wondering: As a grandma of lots and lots of grandchildren (which I hope to eventually be), will I like each and every one of them? I will surely love them all to their very core, but will I like them all? Will I get along with them all?

I clearly, truly, and deeply love and adore each and every one of my daughters. Equally but differently. And I sincerely like each one of them. Yes, there's often one of them doing something to annoy me, but the role of annoying daughter consistently changes. Never have any of the three reached the point that I can say I dislike them. But it might be different with children compared to grandchildren. My daughters are mine, I made them who they are. To a certain degree, at least.

With grandchildren, I'm not in charge of molding and shaping their character, thus not responsible for how they turn out (thankfully). So I'm not entirely sure they'll turn out flawless ... or at least free of annoying traits that rub me the wrong way.

I've not seen Bubby in nearly two months, but Megan reports that his "terrible twos" have hit full stride just as he's reaching the end of his second year. As any toddler does, he argues, he resists discipline. Heck, it sounds like he pretty much resists everything. Although he does know better than to continually say "No!" so he opts instead for saying "I don't want to." Equally frustrating for Megan and Preston as a "no" would be, I'm sure.

But as I said, Bubby is two. Nearly three. Nearly through the phase highlighted by battles of will. There will be more to come, I have no doubt, some likely even with me at some point through the years. I can't imagine, though, that Bubby will ever annoy me regularly, be considered a kiddo I'd rather not be around. I simply don't foresee such a scenario with my only grandchild. At all. Ever.

What worries me is that Bubby won't always and forever be my only grandchild. In fact, it's only a few more weeks before Mac makes an appearance. What worries me more is that I know myself, and, as I mentioned above, I know I'm not enamored with every single kid I come in contact with. What worries me the very most of all about that is the possibility that one of the kids I'm not enamored with may turn out to be one of my grandchildren.

Is that possible?

Today's question:

Have you had personality conflicts with other people's children? What about with your own grandchildren?

A drive on the wild side

Jim and I visited my dad on Saturday, which meant a drive on the slightly wild side for us, in more ways than one.

First, we had to traverse what I consider the scariest highway in Colorado. Not because it features winding roads and steep slopes, but because the highway is dotted with numerous crosses and flowers marking the spots where unfortunate travelers have lost their lives, usually attributed to excessive speed on stretches filled with blind curves. I hate that road. But it's the best way to Westcliffe, where my dad lives and my mom used to own property on which we camped with the girls many summers running.

After the Highway o' Death, we passed Supermax, the penitentiary housing "the worst of the worst," including Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, Terry Nichols, Sammy the Bull Gravano, Zacarias Moussaiou (of 9/11 attacks), Ramzi Yousef (of 1993 WTC bombing) and many other infamous criminals, past and present. I'm always intrigued by the calm and quiet exterior, knowing what horrible monsters reside inside. 

Soon after Supermax, we came upon one of the many wildfires currently plaguing our state, this one in the San Isabel Forest. We were stopped by a sheriff and told it was safe to travel through the area — the road had opened just hours before — as long as we stayed at 25 mph and watched for the firefighters on both sides of the road as "their eyes are focused on other things."

Firetrucks, helicopters, and "hot shots" vehicles were visible along the stretch, and we got to see helicopters dropping water on the hot spots. (Slightly blurry photo as we were driving ... and watching for firefighters.)

Once we were safely through the wildfire area, we were delighted by the animals. We saw bighorn sheep ...

and what I thought were baby bighorns (but my Dad said they were likely mountain goats).

We also saw deer ...

and yielded to deer ...

and saw even more deer.

Then we rounded a bend and saw the Sangre de Cristos ahead.

We got closer ...

and closer ...

then eventually rolled into town at the base of the range.

After some fine food, good conversation, and a bit of instruction for my dad and stepmom on how to use Facebook, Jim and I were on our way, back on the road and doing the trip in reverse.

With fond farewells, of course, from our newfound friends as they foraged for dinner.

Today's question:

How wild was your weekend?