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?)

My reward for eating so much

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I did something awesome and I just have to tell you about it. Many of you may have done it before ... possibly many times before ... but this is my first time. And I'm feeling pretty awesome about it.

With a post title such as it is, what, pray tell, might it be?

Well, get this: I got a free airline ticket. Round trip. Because I eat so much.

Okay, not really because I eat so much, but because I buy so much to eat.

At the grocery store.

And I use my Southwest Airlines Rapid Rewards credit card to pay for all that food I eat (with the help of Jim, the dogs, the cats, of course). Then I pay off the credit card when I get home from the grocery store.

And I gotta say, when Southwest named its loyalty program "Rapid Rewards" they weren't kidding. My points added up fast, primarily from grocery shopping but I must admit that I've done the same with other purchases, too. Actually, most purchases. At least all purchases I would normally pay for with my debit card. Yeah, it takes a little time having to go online to pay off a card right after making purchases, but how lazy might I seem if I complained about that?

So, in relatively lickety split time, I earned enough points for a free round-trip flight. Woo-hoo! (Well, again in all honesty, it wasn't completely free; I had to pay $5 for one of the fees that isn't covered by the rewards program.)

And where do you think I'll be going with my free flight?

Do you really need to ask? Really?

Okay, since you asked, I'll tell you: I'm using my free flight to visit Bubby and Mac. Again. Just a couple months after being there in June. Yep, I'll be flying Southwest in August to see these sweeties, the lights of my life:

Oh, I can't wait!

Why, you might also ask, am I still using Southwest even though I wrote a Dear John letter to them months ago when Allegiant came to town?

Well, since you asked, I'll tell you: I'm still using Southwest because the flight schedule for Allegiant is ridiculous, with only ridiculously early flights on ridiculously few days per week.

And because Southwest doesn't charge for bags. Grandmas need lots of luggage for lugging gifts to the grandkids, and Southwest doesn't ding grandmas for such things. Allegiant does.

Most importantly of all, though, is that Southwest rewards me. For eating so much. Or buying so much. Or both.

So yeah, I"m tooting my own horn for figuring out how to make the most of an opportunity many wiser and more worldly folks have likely long known existed.

And for having yet another opportunity to visit my grandsons.

This one for free.

In less than a month.

Woo-hoo!

Disclosure: This post may read like an ad for Southwest. It's not. I was not paid (nor even approached) to write this. Although I'm thinking more and more that those Southwest folks really oughta make me a Brand Ambassador, possibly pay me. Oh wait ... they did pay me ... with a free flight ... but that wasn't for gushing over them, it was for eating. Well ... you get the idea. They didn't pay me for this post. Even though I wish they had.

Today's question:

What is your favorite loyalty/rewards program, such as those for grocery stores, clothing stores, Starbucks, airlines, etc?

Noise, toys, and the boys who love them

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I like to give Bubby a gift each time I see him. As a long-distance grandma who visits with her grandson only a handful of times a year, I don't consider this spoiling him. Plus, the gifts are usually something small, like a book or Hot Wheels car to add to his collections.

Last time I saw Bubby, I also saw Mac for the first time. Which meant bearing gifts for two grandsons for the first time. In light of the occasion, I went a wee bit larger on the gifts.

Bubby's "big-brother gift" was a few hats: a fireman hat, a policeman hat, and a Woody from Toy Story cowboy hat (part of a review costume you can read about HERE, with awesome pics of Cowboy Bubby).

The fireman hat was Bubby's favorite. Not only because firetrucks and the folks who drive them are his favorite people in the world, but because with the flip of a button it made noise. Lots of noise.

Mac's "baby-brother gift" was a more quiet affair: a tummy time mat. It was the only item Megan requested for her newborn as she still had all things baby boy remaining from Bubby.

Yes, Baby Mac is using his tummy-time mat inappropriately here, not on his tummy at all. But we let it slide this time, considering he's just a baby and all.

Both boys seemed content with the toys I gave them. As I went through the 700-plus photos I took during my visit, I came across this video that underscores that. It was meant to be just of Mac making the most of tummy time but inadvertently shows Bubby making the most of his gift from Gramma, too:

I'll be visiting my grandsons again next month (woo-hoo!) and am already considering what gifts I'll bring them. I have one in mind that I think both boys will like, one they can share.

One that is silent.

For Baby Mac's sake.

And for Megan's and Preston's ... to make up for the fireman hat.

Today's question:

How do you feel about toys that make noise?

The things we do for love

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I can't swim. Legend has it that as a toddler, I was found floating face-down in the lake where relatives owned property and we spent many a summer day. I naturally don't remember that, but my sub conscience seems to. Or at least that's what I blame for the many swim lessons I've taken not sticking.

I took swim lessons as a child. Didn't stick.

I took swim lesson as an adult. Didn't stick.

Nope, I can't swim to save my life. Not even a doggy paddle.

When I learned that Bubby would be attending swim lessons during my recent visit, though, I was determined to not let being a loser non-swimmer stop me from enjoying some time in the pool with my oldest grandson.

And it didn't.

Together we splashed, dove, attempted to touch bottom, and did a few practice rounds of "chicken...star...rocket" moves he'd gleaned from the day's swim lesson.

 

 

 

At his age, Bubby has no idea Gramma can't swim. As he gets older, though, I'm pretty sure he'll figure out why Gramma won't go in the deep end.

Unless, of course, I attempt another round of swim lessons ... and this time they stick.

Photos courtesy of Megan.

Today's question:

How would you rate your swimming skills?

A good sport

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I believe I've mentioned before that as a mother, I never wanted boys. I'm far too overprotective and far too not interested in sports to have raised a healthy and happy son. I know that, accept that about myself.

Sure, Jim would have helped out, but being much like me and more into sedate activities such as enjoying music and movies and being a spectator of sports more so than a participant, together we likely would have squelched a free-spirited and energy-filled boy.

That said, though, I'm absolutely thrilled to have grandsons. And I'm absolutely delighted that Preston has proved himself to be the ideal dad for high-energy and sports-minded Bubby (as will likely be the case with Mac as he grows, too).

Preston has the time, patience, athletic ability, and inclination for doing the dad-like things a growing boy needs.

Preston chases Bubby around the splash pad, eliciting squeals from Bubby that "the water monster" is after him:

Preston teaches Bubby the correct way to hold the bat and encourages hard hits from the little leftie:

And he regularly gets Bubby out and about for bike rides around the block — with Preston walking running alongside quite a bit of the way:

Of course, bike rides and batting practice must take place late in the evening when you live in the desert heat (hence the dark photos), which means Preston deserves all the more props for doing such things after working all day.

I gotta hand it to him. Preston's exactly the kind of dad Bubby and Mac need.

But he also comes in pretty handy in other ways, ways that I personally appreciate and benefit from.

For starters, he gets points for squashing the scorpion that tried to crash Mac's baptism party:

And — with Megan's fruit-chopping assistance — he whipped up a refreshingly tasty sangria as part of the baptism celebration refreshments:

Yep, Preston's an all-around athletic, scorpion-squishing, sangria-serving, delightful, loved, and appreciated member of our family.

I think we'll keep him.

Today's question:

Fill in the blank: Three ingredients that make up a good dad are ___________, ___________, and ________. (Don't wanna talk dads? Feel free to substitute "sangria" for "dad".)