Brave chickens

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My girls — No longer this crazy but now twice as brave.
 

The spookiness of the season seems to be taking its toll on my grandsons.

Mac, who's 16 months old and has been sleeping through the night for quite some time, has awakened screaming in the middle of the night for more than a week now. After ruling out illness, teething, earaches and pains, the only logical reason may be nightmares attributed to spider and ghost decor, plus viewings of Mickey's House of Villains at Bubby's side.

And Bubby, who loves those cartoons of Donald and Mickey braving scary places and villains in his current favorite DVD, doesn't fare as well with his own made-up tales. Megan said Bubby asked for a flashlight a few evenings ago and for Megan to join him in a spooky storytelling session. Only, once Bubby started telling the spooky made-up tale he hoped to share, he declared, "No, I gotta stop! It's too scary!" Megan tried to convince him that as he was the storyteller, the degree of spookiness was completely up to him, yet Bubby refused to go on.

Megan's concerned a bit by Mac's fears, chuckles a bit at Bubby's. I told her to consider what a chicken she was as a child. This is the daughter who, all the way up until leaving for college, would literally run to and from the bathroom if she had to pee in the middle of the night and who used a night light up until she got married. Heck, I'm pretty sure she still uses a night light—disguised as two baby monitors she swears she can't yet give up, for the boys' sake, of course.

Megan is a chicken. Her boys clearly take after her.

In so many other ways, though, Megan is far from a chicken, and brave far beyond what I ever expected of my chicken little girl. She was the first daughter to go far away to a college where she knew no one, a place seven hours from home. She also was the first to move far away from the family home after college to make her own home with her husband. And she was the first to bravely run an official half marathon race—a challenge she asked her sisters to do along with her, for their first times, in just a few weeks.

Her sisters accepted the invitation and will fly to the desert the first weekend of November to run 13.1 miles with Megan. Which shouldn't surprise me as my girls—typically so very different in so very many ways—are very much the same when it comes to bravery in the face of challenge and opportunity.

My youngest, Andrea, has from day one done crazy, daring acts that forever live in family lore. Things like the time she unexpectedly jumped from our boat while no one was looking, right into the cold waters of a mountain lake where we vacationed, just to shock us all. Or touched her tongue to the frozen wrought iron stair railing to see if it really would stay stuck to it (it did). And like yesterday, when she flew off—alone—on yet another solo vacation to parts of the country she's not yet seen.

My oldest, Brianna, may not (yet) take vacations on her own, but she regularly stares down fear and faces challenges of other sorts. One example: This weekend she is riding a bike down Pikes Peak. Yes, you read that right. Early tomorrow morning, Brianna and a friend will, starting at the summit, hop on bicycles—not motorcycles—and pedal down the 14,000-foot-plus mountain. For fun. Crazy, crazy, crazy. And brave, I must admit.

How that happened—how my daughters ended up brave in so many ways—I have no clue. They definitely didn't get it from me. They didn't get it from Jim, either, to be sure, as we're both rather chicken-like in myriad ways of our own.

So when it comes to Bubby and Mac being scared—whether at Halloween or of harrowing acts in the future—I'll continually advise them to look to their mommy and aunts as role models on how to be brave, how to feel most any fear yet do most anything anyway.

For models of bravery are what my daughters have been to me, and what they will always be.

Regardless of how long they use a nightlight.

Today's question:

What about Halloween used to (or still does) make a chicken of you?

Friday field trip: MacDonald's Ranch

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My awesome friend and fellow grandma blogger Connie from Family Home and Life lives surprisingly close to my grandsons. So when I needed suggestions of things to do in the region during my recent visit with Bubby and Mac, Connie was clearly the one to ask.

She came through with flying colors, giving me ideas and links galore. One in particular was a sure-fire hit. That was MacDonald's Ranch.

MacDonald's Ranch offers an old-fashioned ranch experience for kids of all ages. There's no shortage of fun—though this mountain mama did feel there certainly was a shortage of shade to keep her from that blazing desert sun, a scorcher even this late in the year.

Despite the heat, Megan, the boys, PawDad and I visited MacDonald's Ranch one day last week while Preston slaved away at work. The fun began the moment we walked through the gate, as old-time farm equipment, hay bales and more immediately captured Mac's and Bubby's attention.

First up of the big attractions: a horseride for Bubby, on a horse far bigger than the one he rode last time we visited a ranch.

Next up was the petting zoo, where Bubby and Mac hand fed baby goats and their parents, admired peacocks, and pet the miniature horses...but not the donkeys (thankfully). Gramma and PawDad led the boys through the pens as Mommy cringed, shuddered, and refused to roam among the animals.

Megan did volunteer to go through the hay maze with Bubby, though. After a bit of wandering and misturns, Bubby decided the best way to get done with the maze was to scale the walls and go out through the in door.

The pumpkin patch was the primary reason for visiting MacDonald's Ranch, and Bubby's goal was to get the best. pumpkin. ever. With the patch about a mile from the main area, though, a hay ride to the patch was required—a bonus if ever there was one.

After the short hayride, the plentiful pumpkin patch beckoned. Mac and Bubby were off and searching in no time. With so, so many pumpkins, making the final decision on which to claim as their own was a tough one, narrowed down only by the requirement that they must be able to carry on their own whichever pumpkin they wanted to take home.

They tested the weights of several here and there. Once the choice was made, both boys proudly carried their spoils on the hayride back. From there, it was time for lunch with Daddy, time to show him the ever-so-perfect pumpkins his ever-so-perfect pumpkin pickers chose.

Bubby did come away with the best. pumpkin. ever. As did Mac.

'Twas a perfect autumn outing indeed.

Interested in visiting MacDonald's Ranch? Find details here:

MacDonald's Ranch • 26540 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale, AZ 85255 • (480) 585-0239

Today's question:

Where do you typically get your pumpkins for Halloween time?

Halloween fun: Simple spooky spiders

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Doing projects together are one of the primary orders of business when I visit Bubby and Mac, as I did this past weekend. I like to have most of the items with me in my Grandma Bag, so I set out last week to accumulate ideas and came across this spider craft on Pinterest.

After tweaking just a tad, it turned out as easy and inexpensive as could be. Plus, our simple spooky spiders had just the right amount of creep factor to make it festive fun for four-year-old Bubby.

simple spooky spiders.JPG

WHAT YOU NEED:

Rock bodies — one per spider, about silver-dollar size

Wiggly eyes

Long pipe cleaners/chenille stems — four per spider

Black marker/Sharpie for drawing mouths, if desired (Bubby desired)

Craft glue

Hot glue gun and glue, for use by adult only

WHAT YOU DO:

 1. Glue desired number of eyes on spider bodies, using craft glue.

2. Line up four pipe cleaners per spider...

...then twist together a few times in the center to connect them.

3. Give twisted legs and rock bodies to an adult (preferably a grandma) to attach legs with hot glue on bottom center of rock body, glopping the glue at the spot legs are twisted together. Let dry a few minutes before next step, to ensure legs are good and stuck and glue is no longer hot.

4. Use black marker to draw spooky—or smiley—spider mouths on each spider, if desired.

5. Bend each spider leg into creepy crawly position.

6. Sit back and appreciate your handiwork.

Mac, at 16 months, didn't care much about creating his own spider, which was fine with me as I'm pretty sure there'd be more wiggly eyes in his mouth than on the spider. He did, though, get quite a kick—and harmless scare or two—out of the completed spiders Bubby placed among his "collection of scary things" on the living room window sill.

Simple. Spooky. Success.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

One of my favorite Halloween projects to do with kids is _________. (Links are welcome!)

Fare thee well

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Last evening, PawDad and I had a farewell chit-chat on the trampoline with Bubby and Mac.

This morning, we're on our way home.

Farewell to thee, farewell to thee
Thou charming one who dwells in shaded bowers
One fond embrace ere I depart
Until we meet again.
      ~Queen Lydia Kamakaeha Lili’uokalani

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

I recently bid farewell to _________.

Love, Gramma—snail-mail style

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When Bubby was a little over two years old, I made him a nifty mail box for receiving snail mail from Gramma. I wrote a post on it, which you can see right here.

So you don't have to click on that link just yet, here's the photo of that original stickered-up sensation:

grandma mailbox_first.JPG

Bubby loved emergency vehicles of all sorts at the time, so that's how I adorned his box. The mini mailbox also included his name in stickered letters, but as I don't use his real name (nor Mac's) on the blog, I couldn't show how perfectly his name in red block letters fit across one side.

I've not been as consistent in my snail-mail sending as I intended, but each time I did, I'd ask Megan to place it in Bubby's box and raise the flag so he'd know mail from Gramma had arrived. More often than actual snail mail, though, I'd place a little something in the mailbox for Bubby to find each time I left his house after a visit, notification of such courtesy the little red flag.

Last time I visited Bubby, I noticed as we lay on his bed reading his bedtime story that his mailbox was up on a shelf he surely couldn't reach. "I broke it," he told me, when I asked why it was way up there.

Seems Bubby loved his grandma-mail box so much, he used it as a garage for his Matchbox cars. It was used so often and filled so to the brim that it ended up dented beyond repair and no longer has an attached back.

"I'll just have to make you new one," I told him, knowing I still had several empty boxes remaining at home (reference the original post for why that is).

"And I really need super heroes on this one, Gramma," he said.

Well, super heroes it would be, then.

As I had planned to make a grandma-mail box for Mac anyway—his first—I went ahead and made a new one for Bubby, too.

Per his request, Bubby got super heroes of various sizes and styles. Super heroes are his favorite thing in the world right now, especially Batman and Spiderman.

Mac's favorite things? Well, those would have to be Mickey Mouse and dinosaurs, so that's what adorns his little grandma-mail box (more dinos than Mickeys, but that's okay).

Just like Bubby's original grandma-mail box, the boys' names are featured in red block letters on one side of their box. Though just like with the original mail box, I can't show you that side as it would reveal the real names of my grandsons (and heaven only knows what might happen if I were to reveal that information online, right?).

I can show you this, though—the censored versions of my latest grandma-mail boxes for my boys, packed and ready to tote in my Grandma Bag to the desert this Friday:

Now Bubby will have two grandma-mail boxes. Which will surely please him, as they make not only super spots for snail-mail love notes from Gramma, they make pretty darn good garages, too.

Drive-thru garages, from what I gather.

Today's question:

When did you last mail a child a letter or other snail-mail sentiment?