Nap time

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Related Posts with ThumbnailsIt's been a crazy busy week. I'd give anything to be able to rest my head next to Bubby's and just take a nap.

 

Of course, I'd opt for Megan not taking flash photos of me while I nap. Looks like Bubby didn't get that option. But that's okay, without the flash I wouldn't have this sweet picture.

Best wishes for a rest-filled Friday!

Oh ... and if anyone wanted to warn me about the dangers of putting pillows in the crib, don't worry -- Bubby didn't get a pillow until he was well past his first birthday. You don't think this paranoid grandma wouldn't have already thought about that, do you?

Today's question:

Do you sleep on your back, stomach, side or other?

My answer: I sleep mostly on my stomach -- with Isabel (the cat) curled up between my feet.

Got it!

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Bubby has entered the terrible twos, according to Megan. His favorite phrase has become "I got it, I got it, I got it!" chanted steadily to let Megan, Preston or any other adult know that they best not interfere with Bubby's attempt to get into his car seat himself, put on his shoes himself, throw away the garbage himself, spray the patio himself. Yep, Bubby's got it.

That, of course, is quickly followed by -- sometimes in the same day -- tears, whines and upheld arms accompanying the plea to Megan to "cuddle? cuddle?"

Not so terrible, if you ask me.

And not so different, I believe, from how most of us feel on any given day. I know this grandma certainly has her share of "I got it, I got it, I GOT it!" moments often followed by the need to just cuddle and let someone else take care of any business at hand. Sometimes in the same day.

Nope, not so terrible at all.

Got it?

Signs, signs, everywhere signs

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My little GeminiRaise your hand if you're worried about the astrological sign under which your grandchild was born. Okay, since not everyone who visits Grandma's Briefs is a grandparent, what about those of you with children ... does your child's astrological sign make any difference to you?

By the lack of hands I see waving in the air, I'll have to assume I'm weird. I'm weird because when Megan was pregnant, I did worry about the sign under which Bubby would be born.

Well, I suppose worry isn't the correct word. I wouldn't put it in the category of my worries about his and Megan's health and welfare during and after the pregnancy. It's more like I was concerned ... and a little bummed ... and a little hopeful that Bubby would arrive a few days late just to bump him into the next sign.

Because, you see, Bubby's a Gemini and -- I apologize if this offends anyone -- I've never gotten along well with Geminis. I'm a Cancer, the sign right next door to Gemini, the one I was hoping Bubby would hold out for.

Long, long ago, for my 16th birthday to be exact, my mom bought me Linda Goodman's "Sun Signs." Like most teen girls, I was quite interested in astrological signs and how well my friends, enemies and potential beaus matched up with the traits ascribed to their signs. Most of the time, Ms. Goodman was correct -- and seemingly continues to be correct -- in her assertions. Jim (Pisces), Brianna (Leo), Megan (Sagittarius) and Andrea (Cancer) fit the descriptions to a T.

And I, a Cancer, completely and totally fit the description: I'm quiet, moody, retreat to my shell when I sense danger, artistic (in writing, nothing else really), fiercely dedicated to hearth and home.

Then there's the Geminis, of which I've met plenty: talkative, active, impulsive, fleeting, and -- the one trait I've seen quite often in the Geminis I know -- someone who lies about anything and everything embellishes their tales, usually for no clear reason at all.

Suffice it to say, I didn't want Bubby to be a Gemini. But he is. So I recently reviewed -- in the very same copy my mom gifted me decades ago -- the traits under Ms. Goodman's title "The Gemini Child" and found a few interesting tidbits. Right off the bat was a mention that parents should seriously consider using one of those animal-like harnesses for their Gemini child because he'll be all over the place in public and difficult to keep safe. Funny thing is that when Megan was planning the recent trip she and Bubby made to visit us in the mountains, she actually mentioned considering getting one, just to be safe. She ended up not getting one, mostly because Bubby's quite timid and stays right by her side no matter where they go. (Bonus point for Bubby as that's a Cancer trait.)

Another trait Ms. Goodman mentions is that Geminis often are ambidextrous. This is interesting because Bubby favors using his left hand for nearly everything, always has. But there's no one else in his immediate family that's left-handed. The closest leftie is Nick, my nephew and Megan's cousin (is that Bubby's second cousin?). Get this: Nick is a Gemini! Like Nick, Bubby uses his right hand occasionally, but chooses the left nine times out of 10.

Another trait of the Gemini child is "there's usually a marked ability to mimic others." This I find amusing because for a while there I worried that Bubby would never speak normal words -- only because he was mimicking the gibberish in which his mom and dad spoke to him. For some unknown reason, Megan and Preston related to their little one by making him grin and giggle in response to their wacky sounds (which usually sounded much like the "ca-CAAH" goofiness from the goofy guy in the movie "Evolution"). Bubby loved those silly sounds ... and mimicked them to no end.

What I found most interesting about the Gemini traits Goodman lists, though, is that other than the two above, Bubby fits very few of them. But when I flip forward a few pages and read about "The Cancer Child," he hits quite a few right on the head: "His emotions are rich, colorful and varied." "They're funny little creatures with droll expressions and eyes that almost talk by themselves." "You may wish you could predict when he's going to get ... that faraway look in his eye as he listens to the curious music every Moon child hears." "He can get mighty weepy when he's ignored or treated harshly."

If you ask me, I think the doctor may have been a little off in the due date he gave Megan because it seems more and more that Bubby was destined to be a Cancer, not a Gemini. Which is great! Maybe he can overcome any of the negative Gemini traits he may have inherited due to an early arrival. (Again, my apologies to any Gemini readers -- it's nothing personal!)

Although, as all mothers and grandmothers know, no matter what he is, no matter what traits he possesses, I will truly love him with all my heart, all my soul, always and forever.

But let me just say right now that if Bubby ever grows up to be a big ol' liar/embellisher, this Cancer Grandma will surely be having some mighty serious words with that Gemini child!

Today's question:

What sign are you and do you fit the description?

This post was linked to Grandparent's Say It Saturday.

Wonder dog

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Related Posts with ThumbnailsI'm an overprotective mother with an overactive imagination to match. As time marches on, I've also become an overprotective grandma with little to no change in the activity level of my imagination.

 

I've always worried about the typical hazards of childhood: SIDS, falling down stairs, falling off bikes, choking on hot dogs or grapes that haven't been cut into appropriately sized pieces. In fact, one of my first posts here on Grandma's Briefs was about recent stats on televisions falling on kids.

But I worry even more about the uncommon, bizarre things that could befall little ones. Things like being trampled by elephants at the circus. Or scarves getting caught in bicycle, motorcycle or automobile wheels a la Isadora Duncan. Or meteors or airplanes falling out of the sky directly onto one's house. Or diseases that are the stuff of Stephen King novels and afflict only 1 in 3 trillion people. Yeah, chances are your child won't be afflicted. But what if your baby is that unlucky one?

A friend of mine used to think I was nuts. I'd ask if she'd heard about this scary statistic or that bizarre news story and she'd "tsk, tsk" and shake her head at her crazy older friend obsessed with danger. Then she had kids. And now she understands my obsession with all the possibilities lurking out there, possibilities just waiting to maim or do worse to loved ones.

I truly thought I knew of all those possibilities ... or at least knew to worry about the possibilities I didn't know of. But Megan recently shared a new one that never even crossed my mind. One that has me on edge and freaking out a little concerned about the safety of my Bubby. It's one of those that falls under the heading of Scary Stuff That Happens To Only One in Three Trillion People -- and it happened to Megan and Bubby.

The other night, Megan was innocently enough grilling chicken on the patio. Bubby and Roxy were playing in the yard, doing typical boy-and-his-best-friend stuff. Until Roxy heard something that piqued her interest and she dashed off to bark at whomever or whatever it was on the trail. She dashed off so fast and furious that she shot rocks across the rock-landscaped backyard. Shot them so hard that one whizzed into the sliding glass door and busted it. The outer pane of the double-paned door totally, completely and instantly became the most beautifully rendered crackle-glass door ever. A now crazy-paned door right in the area my grandson -- and my daughter -- had stood just moments before.

Scary and dangerous and bizarre and all those other things, wouldn't you say?

What's even scarier is that the glass repair guy is booked for several days and unable to repair the door anytime soon. Which leaves just off Bubby's kitchen a broken glass door with the potential to, at any moment, shatter and send life-endangering pieces of glass everywhere.

And leaving -- despite Megan's adamant proclamations that Bubby can't get to it -- Bubby in danger.

Which leaves me in a tizzy.

It also leaves me wondering if Bubby needs to say goodbye to his little friend. A dog able to spin out so quickly that its paws shoot out deadly bullet-like rocks creates a whole 'nother set of dangerous possibilities.

Possibilities I'd really rather not have to worry about.

Today's question:

What's one of your more irrational fears/worries/concerns?

My answer: I worry that I'll finally win Publishers Clearing House and the Prize Patrol will show up at my door at a time I've not yet taken a shower, forcing me to decide if I want the money badly enough to be seen on national television in my jammies, with wild hair and no makeup. What? It could happen!

This post linked to Grandparent's Say It Saturday.