Not in Grandma's job description

Bubby's in trouble.Soon after I published the post about Bubby seeming mature beyond his two years by taking responsibility for his actions, he had a horrid day marked by, as Megan put it, "making bad choices."

In other words, he acted like a two-year-old.

Seems that Bubby pushed down a little girl he didn't want invading his personal space. He didn't balk over the subsequent time-out, he didn't apologize to his victim, and, more distressing to Megan, he didn't express any remorse over his dastardly deed.

Megan had a serious conversation with Bubby to let him know such behavior is not acceptable. "We use our hands to love, not to hurt" was the theme of her lecture. She also assigned Preston to follow through with a similar lecture when he got home from work that evening.

And she called me to ask that Gramma and PawDad mention it during our weekly Skyping session, that we stress the importance of being kind to others, making good decisions, doing the right thing. No problem, I told her. By all means, we can reinforce good behavior.

Facing the music.Then we proceeded to Skype. Jim and I started off the video conversation with questions about the incident and admonitions about being nice to others.

And it sucked. For all of us.

Bubby faced the music -- and the webcam -- with reservation and solemnity not typical of our Skype time. The happy little grin that usually fills our computer screen during our video visits was replaced with a sad, seemingly confused little boy who didn't understand how Gramma and PawDad could be so serious with him.

It was a painful moment for Bubby. It was a painful moment for me and Jim. I think it was a tad uncomfortable, possibly even painful, for Megan.

Again, it sucked. For all of us.

So we all -- most importantly, Bubby -- quickly agreed Bubby would make better choices going forward. Apology accepted. We moved on to happy talk. We read a story book. Bubby's grin appeared. It also appeared Bubby had learned his lesson.

Apology accepted!I know I certainly learned mine: Going forward, lecturing will be left to Megan and Preston. Skype time with Bubby is too precious to have it tainted by stern talk in somber voices and a sad little boy staring back at me on the computer screen.

I'm willing to have Megan's back on the reinforcing of proper behavior and such. Believe me, I understand the necessity for such. But if she wants me to do it with a heavy hand, she'll need to move closer so I can do it in person because I hereby declare I will no longer do teleconference lecturing.

Teleconference lecturing is not in the job description for long-distance grandmas. At least not in this long-distance grandma's job description.

Today's question:

When has the "This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you" adage come into play for you?

Worth the time?

  PLUS    EQUALS 

We're all busy, we're all trying to fit 26 hours of activity into the allotted 24. And in that flurry of fun are lots of things we do -- or at least that I do -- that I really don't think are worth the time it takes to do them.

Making coffee? So worth the time. Making the bed? Not so much. (Luckily bed-making is Jim's job, not mine.)

The ultimate example of something that I consider not worth the time it takes to do it is the Thanksgiving meal. I enjoy cooking. I like making yummy stuff for my family, immediate and extended. But gee whiz! You spend weeks planning and shopping for it, days cooking for it, hours getting it on the table and POOF! It's over in less than one hour, sometimes even quicker than that.

So not worth the time.

Fortunately life is not a total waste of time; we're not forking out minutes without racking up emotional payoff. Indeed, there are a few things in life that, despite the hassle, despite the time investment, prove to be totally worth it.

Tuesdays at 6 p.m. is our standing Skype time with Bubby. I had purchased four picture books to be shipped from Amazon to him and four of the same books shipped to myself so I could read a book to him while Skyping. This past Tuesday was the designated day for Bubby to open the boxes and choose the first for us to share.

But Tuesday evening was crazy busy. Jim had lots to share when he got home from work, then we had even more to discuss after his telephone conversation with his out-of-state brother. Then my boss from the literacy center called with a request that caused a bit of consternation (and guilt) on my part and when I hung up with her, it was after 6 p.m.

Then the phone rang again.

It was Megan. "Umm, it's after 6 p.m. and you're not online? What's up? I'm sitting here explaining to my crying son exactly what it means to be stood up."

"Cuss!" I replied, explaining why I was running behind.

She was just kidding about Bubby crying and about making him think Grandma's a screw-up, of course, and she said we could just do it another time. For a split second I was tempted to take her up on the offer. Skyping does take up some time, which I was short on, and it is a bit of a hassle because I have to unplug my laptop from the big monitor, keyboard and mouse and move to the dining room with it so Jim can participate, as it's too crowded at my desk for the two of us.

But I had said we would Skype, that we would open the books, that we would share a story. And this grandma doesn't go back on what she says she'll do.

So we Skyped. Jim and I watched as Bubby eagerly -- but patiently -- awaited the opening of the Amazon box with the surprise goodies inside. His eyes grew bigger and bigger ... then his face lit up, his smile became a grin and he exclaimed, "Books!" All the while goosebumps covered my arms and my heart grew not just three but ten sizes that day.

I showed Bubby that Grandma has the very same books, holding each up to the webcam. He immediately selected "I Love Trucks" and off we went, sharing a story across the 819 miles between us. I read, he turned pages, Megan and Jim listened. We all laughed about cows and bunnies and trucks.

Bubby loved it. I loved it. Megan and Jim loved it, too.

Was it worth it? You bet your bippy, it was! For that, my friends, is one of the very few things in life that was, is and always will be so worth the time that it takes.

(Disclaimer: Astute regular visitors may think these Skype photos are from a previous session and you are correct! I was too busy reading -- and grinning -- to take photos of the session of which I write.)

Today's question:

What is one thing you think is definitely worth the time it takes?

Tweeting without Twitter

I never thought in a million years I'd say this, but I use Twitter. Daily. Sometimes hourly.

After several years of saying how stupid the social networking site seemed to me, I'm now a tweeter. Which is kind of like a tweaker, as it is rather addictive, but it costs far less. In fact, being on Twitter pays me -- in the form of new followers and friends. Some of you reading this may have even followed me here from Twitter. (Welcome, SITSGirls!)

Anyway, so I tweet. No big deal.

Apparently it is a big deal to my daughters, though. A laughable big deal.

My daughters don't tweet; they think it's silly (like mother, like daughter, I suppose). They text, they're on Facebook, one even has a blog. But "I'd never tweet on Twitter!" is pretty much the common refrain from all three, incredulous that their mother -- a grandma, even, and someone they thought was intelligent ... on most days -- would actually participate in such drivel.

Funny thing is, my daughters do tweet. All the cussing time! Just not on Twitter. They send me little chirps and shoutouts via 140-character-or-less texts and 140-word-or-less phone calls and voicemails all day long. Which, in my opinion, puts them firmly in the "tweet" category.

The girls call or text to tweet about their trip home from work, the weather, what temperature you preheat the oven to for banana bread and on, and on, and on.

Don't get me wrong; I love their pseudo-tweeting. I truly do. I love that my daughters are comfortable calling and texting any time, any day, any night, for any reason whatsoever, however inane that reason may be.

Here is a small sampling of the pseudo-tweets I've received from my daughters just in the last two days:

"I finally feel like I have friends again!"

"What do I do if the power goes out?"

"Have you accessed my bank account for any reason?"

"Yay! I signed a lease!"

"I've never hated a job as much as I hate this one."

See what I mean? Those are tweet-worthy texts and telephone calls. More like Twitter direct messages, but Twitter talk just the same.

The one serious difference between tweets from my girls and tweets from my Twitter pals? No matter how often they tweet, no matter how often they bug the cuss out of me with the chirping, I can't unfollow the girls. There's definitely no "unfollow" button when it comes to my lovely offspring. And in all honesty, I don't want there to be. (Some folks on Twitter? Well, that's a different story. And I do use the unfollow button.)

Oh, and another big difference: Retweeting certain tweets from the girls is bad. Very, very bad. And may result in a total lockout of the service.

Which means this post will likely get me a big 'ol #mymomdoesntknowwhentokeephermouthshut mention.

If only the girls knew what that means.

And how to do it.

But they don't.

Because they're not on Twitter.

Ha!

Today's question:

Do you find it easier to form new friendships online or in real life? Why?

We now pronounce you ...

There's been a fair amount of conversation in our family regarding what the grandkids will call grandma. I kind of liked G-Ma; Megan wanted Grammy; Bubby has chosen "Granna" ... which also comes out, at times, as "Gramma." That's perfectly fine with me; it's much preferred over the original "Graya."

Not so much has been said about what Bubby and future grandchildren are to call Jim. His only request was that he NOT be called "Pop," as that was the moniker of his not-so-nice stepdad.

So Jim and I have been toodling along, figuring we're just plain ol' vanilla "Grandma and Grandpa."

Bubby seems  to have a different idea for Jim.

When he first started forming words and identifying things around him, Bubby mixed up his syllables for lots of things. So we didn't pay all that much attention to what he'd been calling Jim.

But during our Skyping session Tuesday night (which provided all the photos for this post), Bubby made it very clear -- after being asked "Who's that?" several times in reference to his grandpa -- that his pronunciation wasn't a mistake, that Jim is now and forever will be ...

... "PawDad!"

Yep, Bubby called him PawDad many times, all with a huge smile on his face.

And with that, "PawDad" Jim will be.

PawDad and Granna. Are there any better grandparenting names than that?

I don't think so. At least not for us!

    

Today's question:

What makes you laugh out loud?

Photo replay

Bubby requested a special Skype session with Grandma and Grandpa this past week, specifically to show us the caterpillar he made at day camp.

June 10, 2010

Today's question:

What is the best part of your Sunday routine?

My answer: When Jim and I sit at opposite ends of the dining room table and peruse the newspaper while sipping our morning coffee, swapping sections as we complete them.