Thursdays with Grandma

/

Tuesdays and Morries ain't got nothing on this team of Grandma and Bubby. Yesterday's highlight: Decorating and eating Halloween cookies (with a little lot of help from Mom Megan)!

Is there anything sweeter? (Or scarier ... especially once the sugar high hit and Bubby ran around shouting "Puddle! Puddle!" over and over for reasons yet unknown.)

Today's question:

What's your favorite Halloween candy and when did you last have it? (C'mon, be honest ... who among us has not already dipped into this year's trick-or-treat stash?)

9 things on my mind as I head to the desert

/

I wrote this post earlier this week as I'll be visiting Bubby, Megan and Preston on Thursday. Hooray!

As I prepare for my visit to the desert, here are nine of the many thoughts cluttering up my mind:

1. Are the animals going to be okay being alone all day while I'm gone? I've become their pack leader since only working part-time; what will they do without me? Especially because it'll be too chilly for the dogs to be outside while Jim's at work. Will they miss me?

2. Sheesh! Why in the world are my animals such a huge concern? They're dogs and cats, for heaven's sake. But they're now my only resident babies. Well, they're Jim's babies, too. He can take care of them. Although not as well as I do. (But only because I'm home most of the day.)

3. Do I need to take the larger suitcase since my Gramma Bag has gotten so full?

4. Books ... books? What Halloween book will I be reading to Bubby's preschool class on Friday? Should I go buy a few? Will Megan have some? Will Bubby's teacher? Will it be one requiring me to sing and clap and recite "dem bones" in a funky rapping fashion that may be a preschool teacher's style but isn't mine ... at least not in public?

5. Halloween treats. How can I fit into just a few days all the goodies I want to make with Bubby without putting him into sugar shock? Or Megan into conniption fits over all the sugar? But it's Halloween, and I have festive ideas from Grandma Lizzie and Grandma Nina to try out. Maybe I can sneak in a few while Megan's at work.

6. Which reminds me: I forgot to buy the orange paint for the Halloween treat holder and all the candies for decorating Halloween cookies. Gotta run to Hobby Lobby still ... and Walmart.

7. I hate Walmart ... why do I end up going there at least twice a week?

8. Cuss ... if I'm going to Walmart I might as well pick up a special toy for the dogs. Maybe they'll be less likely to lament my absence if they have something new and interesting to tear up chew on.

9. Uh, my dogs. Are they going to be sad without me?

Today's question:

Do you kennel your animals when you go away for a few days or do you have someone come to your home to take care of them? (Not that I need to do either this time since Jim will be home; just asking.)

Grandma's got a brand-new bag

/

Full disclosure here: Contrary to the post title, this grandma doesn't really have a brand-new bag. What I do have is an

old

bag filled with

new

fun to share with Bubby when I visit him next week.

Here's the deal: Soon after Megan first had Bubby, one little girl in her class regaled Megan with tales of her visiting grandma. A primary reason for the girl's excitement, Megan learned, was the special bag Grandma brought along every time she visited her grandchildren. The bag was filled with all kinds of goodies for the grandchildren to use and share and enjoy during the visit, but the fun was always packed up with Grandma to take home with her, keeping it fresh and exciting for the kids each time.

It sounded like a wonderful idea back when Megan told me, and now that Bubby has reached the age where he'd be delighted by such a thing, I'm copying the idea.

I've gathered together some goodies for the inaugural toting of my very own Gramma's bag to the desert, and here are the nine things I have inside it so far:

Disney movies. It'll take years and years before Bubby is caught up on the wonders of Walt Disney movies, but this time we'll likely fit in at least one, chosen from Wall-E, Robots and Monsters, Inc.

Picture books. I have piles of picture books to review, and a visit with Bubby is the perfect time to try them out on their intended audience.

A Hatch-N-Grow dinosaur egg. I'm willing to bet Bubby will no longer be afraid of the hatching egg and is ready for hatching his own. I think it'll make a difference for Gramma to be there to get things started ... and to bring along the dinosaur hatched from my practice run.

KIDZ BOP Dance Party video game for the Wii. This, too, is a review item I recently received. Considering Bubby's love for the KIDZ BOP CD -- and Megan and Preston's wish for some active games for their new Wii -- I'm thinking this will be the highlight of the bag.

"Mini Disco Set." Along with the dance party game above, I received a rotating mirror ball, LED light and three neon glow-in-the-dark party sticks to really set the dance party vibe. This grandma can't wait to get the party started!

The Original Squirmles. Okay, I still gotta figure out how to make these darn things squirm, but the young man at Bed, Bath and Beyond said they're all the rage with the kids nowadays.

A "Find-It" container. Hidden within a tube filled with beads are shells, nails, Bobby pins, pennys and more that Bubby and I will do our darndest to find all 47 on the list.

An Elmo flash drive for toddlers. Another review item, this nifty little USB drive is already loaded with a "Best of Elmo" video, with space left for me to add photos or videos for Bubby to enjoy anytime Megan will let him plug it in to a USB port on the computer. I'll teach my favorite toddler in the world how to plug it in -- or how to wear it on his wrist when not in use.

Caramel Apple Taffy. THIS is my favorite holiday candy, taffy that is available only for a short time (at least where I live) beginning around Halloween. I figure it can't hurt to share some of Gramma's favorite candy with her favorite grandson.

There's still a week before takeoff, so who knows what may be added. My plan is to keep the bag filled with these items and more so Bubby eagerly anticipates the opening of Gramma's bag during each visit, just as Megan's former student did with her grandma's bag.

Of course, I'm already thinking I may have to relax my rules just a tad and leave an item or two with Bubby when I head home. No sense having the fun (and Elmo flash drive) wasting away, unused in a bag in the closet for months, when a little boy (and his parents) could be enjoying it. Right?

Besides, leaving an item or two will give me more space to add something new to Gramma's bag -- just in time for the Thanksgiving visit!

Today's question:

What do you remember about your grandmother's or mother's bag or purse?

Mom 2.0: Better than Mom 1.0

/

I've always considered it a parent's duty to create a better life for their children than the one they had themselves, to improve the family's lot with each generation. Regardless of how grand -- or not -- a person's life may be, there's always room for improvement, and their kids should be the beneficiaries of such.

With that in mind, I've worked hard to ensure my daughters are more content, better educated, more financially secure than I was at their age, along with myriad other upgrades in comparision to how things were for me. Now that they're all adults, I'm seeing the fruits of my labor in all of them, in numerous ways.

But as Megan is the only one of my daughters to become a mother so far, in her I see that not only is she better educated and more financially secure than I was in my mid-20s, she is a much better mom than I was at her age.

Here are nine reasons why I say that:

1. Megan has tricks and techniques for discipline, character building, motor-skill encouraging and more that I never dreamed of when my kids were Bubby's age. Most come by way of her early childhood education training and her work as a pre-K teacher, but that simply means there was a two-fold payoff from my "better educated" goal for my girls.

2. Megan is better at spacing her children than I was. I wouldn't give anything in the world for the way my babies came in rapid succession, as things really do (and did) happen for a reason. But allowing Bubby some time as an only child, with his own room and gads of attention before Baby No. 2 comes along, seems a much better plan than my non-plan nearly 30 years ago.

3. Megan swims. And hikes. And runs. And engages Bubby in outdoorsy pursuits that keep him healthy and happy. I'm a rather sedate, indoorsy kind of mom. I think outdoorsy is better.

4. Megan looks forward to Bubby playing football. I'm just thankful I never had boys and had to endure years of watching my child get knocked around on the field. I honestly don't know that I could have -- or would have -- done it. I may have ended up not allowing a son to play football ... and that son likely would have hated me for that.

5. Megan is more fearless than I ever was. She allows Bubby to find his own footing on play structures, lets him figure out how to get up and down stairs on his own at an early age, lives in the desert where rattlesnakes and scorpions roam, lets Bubby ride Roxy like a horse until Roxy gently decides enough is enough. I'm overprotective to a fault. (Brianna, Andrea, Megan: You never heard me admit that!)

6. Megan let Bubby take the lead in his potty training, making it a non-issue -- and completely accomplished in less than a week. I, on the other hand, scarred Brianna for life, I'm sure, by adherence to the idiotic ideas in a book called "Toilet Training In A Day." A day which was marked by tears, not success.

7. Megan chose godparents according to what was best for Bubby. I (along with Jim) chose godparents with the intent of honoring those chosen.

8. Megan tries new recipes for dinner every night in hopes of widening her family's culinary horizon. Well, not every night, she says, but nearly every night ... and far more often than this mother who tended to go with the tried and true far too often.

9. Last but not least, Megan taught Bubby from a very early age how to make good choices -- something I'm still trying to teach my daughters.

Megan has only one child at this point, whereas when I was her age, I had three. So the real test of my assertion that she's a better mom than I will come when babies No. 2 and No. 3 come along.

Do I question whether she'll pass? Not at all.

I have no doubt whatsoever Megan will pass with flying colors -- colors I likely would never have even dreamt of.

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:

Button pic 9

 

Today's question:

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