Wah, wah and cootchie coo

Whining and baby talk are for babies ... only!When my daughters were young, I had a crafty little sign over the doorway to the kitchen that said "No whining." Whining simply was not allowed in our house.

The girls knew early on that asking, complaining, begging, crying in a whiny tone led them nowhere. If they did that, my only response would be, "I can't understand you when you're whining."

Even as a manager in the workplace, I had a "No Whining" sign at my desk. It's incredible the number of adults who think whining will get them somewhere. With anyone. Luckily my daughters aren't one of those adults. They're not whiners. And I'm pretty sure whining now annoys them just as much as it annoys me.

One of the few things that grates on my nerves, gets my briefs in a bunch and makes me want to bop someone on the head with a Nerf bat more than whining does is baby talk.

Now, lots of grandmas engage in baby talk. I'm talking about the "Cootchie, cootchie coo" babbling that takes place over a new little one. Or the "Oh, my sweety bug, you're so precious!" kind of complimenting passed along to boys and girls alike. That's fine, I guess. To each his own -- as long as it's out of my earshot. But you'll never hear that from me. Bubby will never hear it from me. Even my dogs and cats will never hear it from me.

That doesn't mean I don't gush over cute things; I just gush in a non-baby talk manner. I love my little Bubby with all my heart and soul and I adore everyone else's little ones just as much as the next grandma. But there's something patronizing bordering on demeaning about talking in sweetsy high-pitched voices to kids. Believe me: It really is possible to let babies and others know how much you adore them without hitting the upper range of your vocal abilities and using nonsensical words. It's annoying.

More than the annoyance factor, though, I think baby talking to kids teaches them from the get-go that baby talk from them is acceptable. For, at what point do you stop the baby talk to your children or grandchildren? As they get older, they surely -- though likely subconsciously -- figure that if grandma can do it, they can do it, too. And they can't. Or at least shouldn't. And they definitely shouldn't do it in public.

I'm a site coordinator for the local children's literacy center, so I come across a lot of kids. I'm continually amazed at the number of them -- children in elementary school and older -- who talk in baby talk. To adults! It drives me nuts. I find it not only annoying, I think it's sad. The poor kids haven't been empowered to use their words to say what they mean, what they want, what they truly wish to express. Instead, they've been taught to depend on a cutesy, baby voice (or worse yet, whiney baby voice), in hopes that baby talk will get them what they want. Or soften the blow of what they're really trying to say. Or endear someone to their cutesy ways.

Which it doesn't. At least not with me ... and surely not with their teachers or other adults, I would venture to say.

So moms, grandmas -- dads, aunts, uncles, any other adults who interact with children, too -- do the kids in your life a favor and put an end to baby talk. From our mouths and the mouths of the little ones. It's annoying.

And it's just as bad as whining.

Which I can't imagine being taught as acceptable by any grandma or other adult, not just crabby non-baby-talking grandmas such as myself.

Today's question:

Which do you find more annoying -- whining or baby talk?

Gramma's my name, being intentional's my game

Seems the latest buzzword for grandparenting is intentional. Everywhere I look for info on grandparenting, I find books and articles about being intentional.

What the cuss does it mean to indulge in intentional grandparenting, you ask?

The definition of intentional, according to Miriam Webster, is "done by intention or design; intended."

With that definition in mind, I'd first like to say that I had absolutely nothing to do with becoming a grandma; there was no intention whatsoever about getting the position. A position, I'll add, I was thrilled to accept.

Peggy Edwards, in her book Intentional Grandparenting: A Boomer's Guide, calls intentional grandparenting "a process for planning ahead and taking deliberate action to be the kind of grandparent you want to be."

That definition could apply to everyone -- not just grandparents -- because it seems a good idea to strive to be intentional in all relationships. That said, because I'm a grandma and because I'm a grandma blogger, this here little blog post focuses only on intentional grandparenting. And how I succeed -- and fail -- at it.

There apparently are several tenets of the intentional grandparent game, many which just sound like common sense to me, but here are the rules, according to Grandparents.com:

Intentional grandparents ...

1. Plan special times together.

2. Ask the parents to stay away!

3. Take advantage of the resources around you.

4. The simplest pleasures are often the best.

5. Make a plan, but be flexible.

6. See things through the kids' eyes.

7. Give them your undivided attention.

See what I mean? Common sense. (And if you're confused about the "Ask the parents to stay away!" rule, it just means to spend time specifically with the grandchildren without the parents around.)

So I have most of those down pretty well. As a long-distance grandparent, No. 1 comes pretty easily; I have no choice but to plan the cuss out of our visits. I fully intend to be at his place or fully intend to have him be at my place.

But the one I do best? I'd have to say it's No. 7, "Give them your undivided attention." When I'm with Bubby, he is the full focus of everything I say, do, think. He has my undivided attention. Maybe that's where being a long-distance grandma comes in handy, because if he lived nearby, I swear I'd get nothing done. Every second would be dedicated to him. At least until grandbaby No. 2 comes along. (How do you grandmas of many do it?)

The rule of intentional grandparenting at which I fail? In my mind, there's no doubt it's No. 6, "Seeing things through the kids' eyes." I'm not very good at seeing things through Bubby's eyes. I want to show him life through MY eyes because my eyes have been around a lot longer, have seen a lot more, have learned to filter out that which doesn't really matter.

Thing is, I'm starting to realize that the things that don't really matter to me aren't necessarily the things that don't matter to others. In this case, Bubby. While I'm rushing to show him the cool things at the park or in the backyard or in a book we're reading, he's dawdling and heading toward what most interests his little eyes: the balance beam at the park that he surely can't balance on but that makes a great spot for lining up some rocks; the vines that cling to the trees, walks and walls of the backyard require touching and tugging before we finally reach the rustic metal dinosaur legs sprouting from Gramma's garden; the miniature secondary illustrations framing the page of a picture book are much more interesting than the big ol' drawings that depict exactly what's going on in the story.

I need to follow Bubby's lead a little lot more in such things and work at seeing the world through his eyes. I may see what I think matters; Bubby sees what is magical.

My plan is to work on marveling at the magical, seeing things the way Bubby sees them.

My plan is to work at becoming a fully intentional grandma.

Sometimes even the common-sensical can use a little intentional attention.

This post has been linked to:

Today's question:

Applying the rules of intentional grandparenting to any relationship, which do you think you are most and/or least successful at?

Off to New Zealand ... again!

One of the greatest things about writing Grandma's Briefs is the wonderful women I meet from all across the globe. I've been introduced to women in Malta, Canada, The United Kingdom.

Most surprising to me, though, is that I've met a handful of wonderful women either from or with strong ties to New Zealand. I've not only met them, I've grilled them.

First there was Grilled Grandma Sally, who lives in New Zealand. There there was Grilled Grandma Billie, whose granddaughter lives in New Zealand. And now there's this week's Grilled Grandma, Pauline, who hails from New Zealand, too!

(I think it's a sign I'm supposed to visit New Zealand. Maybe Jim's making secret travel plans for us. Maybe?)

The word that continually came to mind while reading Pauline's grilling is lovely. She's a lovely grandma, with lovely grandchildren, living in a lovely place, writing a lovely blog sharing all of that loveliness and more.

But there's much more to Pauline than loveliness. Here are three of the many tidbits you'll learn about the latest featured grandma from New Zealand by reading Grilled Grandma Pauline:

Three of Pauline's granddaughters are the same age -- and they're not triplets!

Her seven-year-old granddaughter has a humorous explanation for why she simply cannot be a monster.

The reason why Pauline no longer plays Simon Cowell to her grandchildren.

After reading Pauline's grilling, be sure to leave her a comment or two on your thoughts about her and her little ones. (I bet the word "lovely" surely comes to your mind when thinking of Pauline, too!)

Today's question:

What one word best describes you today?

Egghead grandma

I recently ran across a pretty nifty gift for Bubby: Hatch-N-Grow dinosaur eggs!

How awesome is that!?

I ordered the eggs, they arrived, and I was quite excited to try one out before popping a few in the mail to Bubby, just to ensure it wasn't totally lame. (Sea monkeys anyone?)

Here's how it works:

I placed the egg -- the size of a regular chicken egg -- into a glass of water as directed. Per the package, I should have a little dinosaur head cracking through within 24-48 hours.

And I did!

Very cool! Get a load of that cute little dino grin!

Despite the "Age 3+" notation on the package, I just knew Bubby would love watching the dinosaur hatch. So I planned to send him not just one, but two packages, just in case he wanted twice the fun ... or just in case Megan wanted to use one to amaze the 4-year-olds in her classroom.

Megan called the other night to confirm the time of our weekly Skype session, and I told her about the very cool dinosaur egg, my practice hatch, and my plans to send Bubby a couple in the mail.

"He won't like that," she said.

"What? It's a hatching dinosaur! It's so cool! He'll love it!"

"No. He won't. He'll be scared of it," she assured me.

"Um, I don't think so," I responded. "I'm going to show him during our Skype session and you'll see. He's going to love it!"

We proceeded to Skype and I could barely contain my excitement as I grabbed the glass of water containing the magnificent emerging dinosaur and held it toward the webcam so Bubby could see.

He grew silent. And slowly leaned back into Megan for protection.

"It's a dinosaur!" I smiled and explained, trying to turn him on to the delights of the mini dino.

"Scary," he said so quietly that Megan had to translate.

"He's two, Mom. That's scary to him," Megan said.

I couldn't believe it. Yeah, the recommended age is three and up, but I figured that was because some little kids might eat pieces of the cracked shell. Or drink the water. Or bite off chunks of the dinosaur once it was fully grown. Not Bubby, though. He wouldn't do that. He'd be fascinated by the emerging prehistoric figure, I was sure.

But he wasn't. And isn't. And won't be for quite some time, apparently.

So I'll be packing away the boxes of eggs I purchased for Bubby. Unlike real eggs, they won't go bad. And I'm sure that by the time he's three, he'll be more than ready to plop an egg in a glass and keep a constant eye on the dinosaur's progress as it cracks through the egg.

In the meantime, I'll keep a constant eye on my dinosaur, eagerly awaiting the day it breaks completely free from the egg.

Maybe once it does I'll then show the fully hatched dino to Bubby during a Skype session. Maybe it's the egg that scares him! I'll just have the adorable mini dinosaur ready and waiting to surprise him during a Skype visit.

Of course I'll have to ask Megan first. As hard as it is to admit, Megan obviously knows better than Gramma.

At least when it comes to Bubby.

Sheesh ... this grandma gig isn't as cut and dry as one might think!

Today's question:

 Have you ever had a gift-giving experience fall stupendously flat?

9 things I now understand about grandmas

When I was young, my grandmas were strange yet beloved creatures. As I grew older, I realized it wasn't just my grandmas, but that most grandmas seemed to be strange creatures, all with interesting, amusing, sometimes even downright baffling quirks and mannerisms.

Well, in the short time since joining the ranks of the strange creatures known as grandmas, I've learned they're not so strange after all. While some quirks and mannerisms still remain a mystery, here are ...

9 THINGS I NOW UNDERSTAND ABOUT GRANDMAS

1. I now understand why grandmas wear their eyeglasses on chains around their necks. With six pair of glasses strategically placed around the house, I definitely see the value of wearing them around the neck. I don't do it (yet), but I now understand it.

2. I now understand why grandmas always have the best snacks ever in their kitchens. It's not because their cabinets are always filled with such goodies (Grandma -- and Grandpa -- would weigh 10 tons each if that were the case). It's because they stock up before the little ones visit, ensuring no culinary craving of a grandchild goes unsatisfied.

3. I now understand why grandmas are such excellent cooks ... and/or bakers. They've had years of experience, so what else might one expect? More importantly, though, all their kitchen concoctions include heaping helpings of love, which makes all the difference in the world.

4. I now understand why grandmas are in their jammies by 8 p.m. As it's no longer likely someone will stop by for a visit that "late," why not get comfortable. And even if some night owl did stop by for a visit, grandmas no longer really give a hoot what someone may think of them being in their jammies by 8 p.m. -- or any other time.

5. I now understand why grandmas back in the day wore dresses more often than not. Gosh! It took me years to realize dresses are soooo much more comfortable than pants ... especially jeans. Luckily the house dresses of old are no longer the only casual dress options for grandmas.

6. I now understand why grandmas place protective coverings over the "good furniture." Although I first saw the light on this one in terms of keeping cat hair off certain chairs, I quickly realized how handy it could be for easy cleanup of baby spit-up, leaking diapers or little hands covered in popcorn butter while enjoying a flick with Grandma and Grandpa.

7. I now understand why grandmas spout so many sage (and sometimes silly) words of advice. After years and years of collecting witticisms and adages it's hard not to pass them along to those little pitchers with big ears -- or big pitchers who should use those big ears more often.

8. I now understand why grandmas squeeze their grandchildren so tightly when they hug them. It's because they love the kiddos so darn much they just want to eat them up. Eating them wouldbe rather bizarre though (not to mention illegal), so grandmas simply squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until the impulse to nibble passes ... or until the grandchildren wriggle away.

9. I now understand why grandmas have non-stop smiles on their faces when with their grandkids. The reason? Because nothing -- absolutely nothing -- fills up grandmas and makes them quite as happy as the moments they spend with their grandchildren. (That, or they've just gotten lazy in their old age and are following their own advice regarding it taking 43 muscles to frown yet only a mere 17 to smile.)

Photo courtesy Flickr/freeparking

Today's question:

What do you find amusing, interesting, baffling or bizarre about grandmas -- yours or others' (or even yourself)?