Station identification

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We pause now for station identification.

And to bring you something Grandma's Briefs has been lacking this week.

A hefty dose of precious:

Thumbs up on turning three!

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

Happy Friday!

Today's question:

When seeking a break online, do you go for cute (kitty/kiddy videos), comedy, games, music, or other?

5 things I used to be...and one I still am

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Because of various opportunities presented to me in the past few weeks, I find myself again and again promoting the notion that I'm qualified for this or that because of things I used to do, things I used to be. More and more I feel like I'm singing an off-key version of Bruce Springsteen's Glory Days, trying to convince the world I once was great...back in the day.

Despite no longer being things I tout, I keep telling myself it's okay to utilize them when appropriate, that the sum of my parts, my past, make me who I am today.

The one I've been utilizing of late is that I used to be the special sections editor at the newspaper. Although a writer long before that, it's the "editor" title that seems to make people take notice. Little do most realize that the "editor" title was just that: a title. No powerful abilities, no magical results. Except, of course, when it comes to impressing folks who might open a door for a writer. So for that thing I used to be, I am truly thankful (but mostly thankful it's no longer something I'm required to be).

There are plenty of others things I used to be.

I used to be shy. Achingly shy. Turn-my-stomach-into-knots-and-render-my-voice-mute-in-the-face-of-strangers-and-authority shy. Until I had children to protect and support in the face of teachers, doctors, coaches, bad boyfriends and more. Being crowned editor helped, too, as with that title came the obligation to speak up and protect my people and publications, my writers and our writings in the face of the newspaper and advertising gods that be...or were.

I used to be one to work with numbers, not words. I worked for mortgage companies, for a major auto finance company. I learned to hate numbers. But I also learned to pay attention to them—and to be a formidable force when it comes to securing a mortgage, even tougher when buying a car.

I used to be a licensed nail tech. Am I now someone with a penchant for perfectly polished fingers and toes? Far from it. But it made me less ashamed of my hands. The hands I used to hide at all awkward costs because of hateful comments made by a sister. Not because my hands became beautifully manicured, but because it's impossible to work on someone else's while hiding your own. So I stopped hiding them. And stopped worrying about things my sister said. And stopped thinking such things mattered at all.

I used to be a Girl Scout Leader. Did it leave me craftier and wiser than the average mama bear? No. But it did give me three life principles I regularly fall back on: 1) Make new friends, but keep the old; 2) Be prepared; and 3) Right over left, left over right, makes a knot neat and tidy and tight.

As the post title says, those are five things I used to be. Five things I am no more.

And the one I still am? Simple: I am a mother and wife, the one thing I've been longer than any other thing.

But that's two, you say? No. Having been pregnant when Jim and I married, the mom-and-wife things go hand-in hand, are one. And it's that one that I've been for the majority of my life and above all else. Fortunately that one thing expanded to become many. The mother of babies, then toddlers, adolescents and teens became a mother of adults. All very different things, but very much the same. The mother of adults become a mother-in-law. Then, of course, that mother expanded (as did her heart) when she became a grandmother...partner to a grandfather. Still a mother and wife.

All the things I once was made a difference, but it's the one I still am that truly defines me, that matters the most. The one that always will matter most. The one I always will be.

Photo: That's my peeps. That's what matters.

Today's question:

What did you used to be? What will you always be?

Reason No. 411 grandmas come in handy

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One of the most important tasks of grandmothers is to support our adult children in their choices, their rules, and their lessons when it comes to raising their kids, our grandchildren.

Sometimes the need for such support comes in unexpected ways.

Megan called one day last week, starting the conversation with the typical "What are you doing?"

"Um, just working online," I told her. "What are you doing?"

"Well, Bubby and I are having a conversation. About poop," she said in her matter-of-fact teacher voice.

Ahh...I get it. She was talking in her this-is-a-lesson voice. She was on speaker phone. Bottom line: Bubby was listening.

So I resisted my immediate "WTF? Poop?" response, following instead with the requisite lilting, "Oh, really?"

"Yes," Megan continued. "We're talking about all the different places there is to poop. Bubby poops in the potty, like a big boy. Mommy and Daddy poop in the potty, too. Baby Mac poops in his diaper. And Roxy (the dog) poops outside. But when I told Bubby that kitties—that YOUR kitties—poop in the house, Bubby didn't believe me?" She ended on a high note of incredulity at Bubby's skepticism on the matter.

I'm no dummy. My daughter needed my support and I wasn't going to let her down. I immediately launched into authoritative grandma mode.

"Oh, but they do!" I responded loud and clear for Bubby's benefit. "Abby and Isabel both go poop in the house. In their litter box."

"That's yucky," Bubby responded.

"Some people don't want their kitties to go outside to go potty because a fox might get them, so they have their kitties go potty inside in a litter box."

"We wouldn't want a fox to eat the kitties, would we?" Megan asked Bubby.

Of course Bubby said no ... but it was clear the yuck factor was still a factor, especially the idea of the stink and the mess such activity might make.

"I clean their potties each week," I told Bubby. "And Abby and Isabel have litter boxes with lids on them, so they keep the stink in their potty. It makes it a private potty for them because kitties like privacy when they go potty. Maybe next time you're here, we'll watch as Abby and Isabel go into their private potties."

"Can you believe that?" Megan asked Bubby.

Bubby's response: "I don't even believe it!" in a chipper my-eyes-have-seen-the-light tone, doing his best to convince us he gets it, that he does indeed now believe what was once truly unbelievable to him.

Shew! Gramma successfully came through on the unexpected and unusual call for support.

After a bit more chit chat, the conversation wound down.

"You guys go now," I told them. "And maybe you should continue your discussion, maybe talk about where fish go potty."

As Megan said "goodbye," I heard Bubby in the background clearly inquire, "Where DO fish go poop, Mom?"

"Thanks, Mom," Megan added as she hung up the phone. Only I wasn't too clear on her tone. Was it one of sincere thanks for the support? Or one dripping with sarcasm at my suggestion for continuing the poop lesson?

It didn't matter. My grandchild's mind had been expanded. My daughter's lesson had been supported.

My grandma work was done for the day.

(My paparazzi work, on the other hand, continues, as I stalk Abby and Isabel with camera in hand in hopes of snapping them entering their private potties. I figure photos would be great reinforcement of the lesson for Bubby.)

Today's question:

What are your thoughts on cats? Where fish—or other animals—go potty, and life lessons learned? (Really, what question might you expect in relation to such a post?)

Everyone's a winner on my two-year blogiversary!

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Grandma's Briefs is two years old!

On July 25, 2009, I launched Grandma's Briefs, my space for sharing brief—and some not-so-brief—ramblings, with THIS. It didn't get a single comment.

Undeterred, I plodded away as if what I had to say mattered. Every day I'd post, every day I saw more and more visitors stopping by to read those posts. Some would even comment. Eventually I felt like what I had to say really did matter. YOU made me feel like what I had to say mattered...and continues to matter.

There's no doubt that Grandma's Briefs made it to the two-year mark because of you, the readers. Without you, I'd have quit long ago. And I'd like to show my appreciation for that with a gift.

Every person who comments to this post through July 31 will be entered in a random drawing for a Grandma's Briefs canvas tote filled with goodies the little ones in your life will enjoy, goodies that correspond to the little ones in my life. Meaning, of course, Bubby and Mac. What could such goodies be? Well, no profundity here, I assure you, but in honor of Bubby there are bubbles, and in honor of Mac there is mac & cheese.

Yes, indeed, a Grandma's Briefs/Bubby and Mac goodie bag for one lucky winner:

But wait, there's more. I've also thrown in five books I received for review in the past year. Just for you, not the kiddos. I think you'll like them. I did.

But wait, there's even more: Only one person will win the goodie bag, but every person who comments will be a winner by making a difference in the lives of hungry children. And how's that? Well, for every comment this post receives through July 31, I will donate $2 (because, ya know, Grandma's Briefs is TWO) to either the No Kid Hungry/Share Our Strength campaign or the UNICEF/Crisis in the Horn of Africa program. The winner of the goodie bag will choose which cause shall receive the funds, in the name of Grandma's Briefs.

So here's all you need to do: Comment on this post. Yep, that easy. The more comments, the larger the donation. Plus, you'll be entered into the drawing for the Grandma's Briefs/Bubby & Mac goodie bag.

Comment to this post by midnight MDT July 31 answering the following two questions (two because, ya know, Grandma's Briefs is TWO):

1. What Grandma's Briefs post of the past year was memorable for you, made a difference to you, mattered to you...or made you grunt, groan, or snicker? (No need for specific post title; just boost my ego by mentioning what you recall as the gist o' the thing).

2. If chosen as the winner of the Grandma's Briefs/Bubby & Mac goodie bag, which cause would you like the $2-per-comment donation to be given: the No Kid Hungry/Share Our Strength campaign or the UNICEF/Crisis in the Horn of Africa program?

Only one comment per person, please. Be sure to include your e-mail address when commenting (no one sees it but me) so I can contact you if you're the winner. Winner will be chosen by Random.org Monday, Aug. 1 and contacted by e-mail. Prize will be shipped to U.S. addressee only.

Thank you for two fabulous years! I look forward to the third and sharing it with you—people who matter to me, people who make a difference in my world!