Bells will be ringin'

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Guess who had his first Christmas program ever?

Why, Bubby, of course.

As part of a preschool class of two-year-olds, Bubby didn't have to memorize lines or sing songs for last week's Christmas program. His part -- and the part of all the two-year-olds -- was to play bell accompaniment to the older students who had the singing parts.

And shake his bells, he did, Megan reported. Considering the attention span of toddlers, it was no surprise most of the kids shook a jingle or two then spent the remainder of the gig gazing at the sights and sounds around them. Not little Mr. Focus, aka Bubby, who, Megan says, shook and shook straight through to the end, all the while wearing a look of determination in doing the job right and to completion.

Amidst the bustle of prepping for the show -- especially considering Megan's class of students was performing as well -- Megan and Preston inadvertently left the camera at home, so there are no photos of Bubby jinglin' the bells. Luckily fabulous friend and photographer Alison (the fabulous applying to both her friend status and her photo skills) got this shot of Bubby with his bells and classmate Ro-Ro, Bubby's best buddy and Alison's son.

Another first, another milestone.

And another reason I'm so thankful for Megan and technology -- and photographer Alison -- for keeping me up to date on all things Bubby, despite the miles between us.

Holiday question of the day:

If you were to be part of a Christmas program, what song would you like to sing? And would you prefer a solo performance or being part of an ensemble?

Telephone line, give me some time

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Wednesday night I had my first real telephone conversation with Bubby. I say real because although I've talked to Bubby on the phone many times in the past, this was the first time he asked to talk to me on the phone, the first time he requested the phone from Mommy so he could talk to Gramma. And the first time we maintained a steady volley of remarks back and forth, just like real conversations work.

After getting the phone from Mommy, Bubby kicked off our conversation with a drum solo just for me, played on the kitchen garbage can, aka his "big drum." After applause and praise from Gramma, we discussed Mommy's birthday on Tuesday, the Christmas presents under the tree, his Elf on the Shelf (whom he named Jackson), and Santa Claus.

"Sometimes ... sometimes ... sometimes ... SOMEtimes," Bubby said, very carefully considering what came next, "sometimes ... sometimes Santa takes my presents away."

He shared the truth as he knew it, no tattling involved, just a tinge of remorse over the state of his current standing with Santa. Present removal is Megan's method for keeping an obstinate toddler from "losing his mind" throughout the day. When Bubby acts up, he's given the warning that if he doesn't start making good choices, presents will be removed from under the tree, to be replaced only when Bubby displays proper behavior. It seems to be working, for the most part.

I mentioned to Bubby that if he makes good choices, all the presents will stay under the tree. He responded by saying, "I can't close my eyes" and that he's "scared" of "something white up there" above his bed.

Of course, being a fan of Ghost Hunters and a believer in scary white things since I have scary things that happen occasionally in my own house, I worried that Bubby might be seeing ghosts. But according to Megan, at this point in the conversation, Bubby held the phone up for me to "see" the scary white thing in his bedroom. The scary white thing that is his smoke detector. It has a blinking light that scares him at night when he's been told to "close your eyes and go to sleep." Which he has trouble doing, no matter the number of nightlights and books that accompany him to bed.

Because Megan hadn't yet explained the inability to close his eyes in the face of scary white things, I attempted a diversion tactic by talking to Bubby about what Santa may be bringing him, which he says is "lots of cars and trucks." So with visions of cars and trucks dancing in his head, Bubby said, "I gotta play. Buh-bye, Gramma! Love you!" and the phone went back to Megan.

Throughout this first real telephone conversation, Megan told me, Bubby walked around the living room while chatting away, the phone to his ear as he stopped in front of the Christmas tree, headed over to gaze out the window, then off to his room to discuss the scary white thing. I can just imagine his big-boy attitude while on the phone, doing exactly as he did during a conversation with Mommy on the phone while we visited during Thanksgiving (of which the post photos are from).

It warms my heart to see that, like everything else with my grandson, the phone conversations are progressing, becoming more mature. It used to be that Megan would hold the phone to his ear for me to babble to baby Bubby, just so he'd know my voice. Then he started babbling back while Mommy held the phone for him. Soon he wanted to hold the phone himself each time, enjoying the notes of pressed buttons more than the sound of Gramma telling him how much she loves him -- which often resulted in disconnected calls. Now Bubby holds the phone himself and walks around, just like Mommy does while deep in conversation with Gramma.

I look forward to the next step in the progression of Bubby's telephone skills: when he picks up the phone and calls me himself -- on speed dial, of course -- to tell me about anything that scares him, excites him, or makes his day. And to babble the sweetest long-distance babbling this grandma's heart has ever heard, including somewhere along the line, an "I love you, Gramma!"

All prefaced, of course, with a drum solo performed just for Gramma on Bubby's "big drum."

(Curious about the post title? Here's the song it's from, an old fave of mine.)

Holiday question of the day:

If you could write a sequel to be produced for any holiday movie or program, which one would you choose and what would the plot highlights be?

Would you like fries with that?

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I understand that when potty training a little one, stress and a busy schedule can cause regression to varying degrees. Bubby, who's in the potty training phase of wearing big boy undies all day and Pull-Ups at night, had a pretty busy schedule last week.

There was the Christmas parade.

Meeting Santa.

Checking out holiday lights.

And a performance of Yo Gabba Gabba Live.

With so many things happening in just a few days' time, no one could fault the tired little two-and-a-half-year-old if he backslid a bit in his potty training and had a few accidents.

Thing is, Bubby didn't. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Despite the crazy holiday schedule, this week Bubby had his very first dry night wearing big boy undies to bed!

Hooray for Bubby! Give that boy a hand!

Megan called Tuesday to tell me of the fantastic feat.

Can I talk to him? I asked.

"Sure!" and handed the phone to Bubby. "Hi, Gramma!" he said.

Hey, Bubby! Did you have a dry night last night?

"Yeah ... my underwear was DRY!"

What a big boy you are! I'm so proud of you!

"Yeah, I'm eating fries."

Ummm ... Okay ... I love you, Bubby! Great job!

"Love you. Buh bye!"

Fries? Did I hear him right?

"We're celebrating his dry night with a Happy Meal," Megan explained. "For being such a big boy, Bubby got a Happy Meal for lunch."

Ah, now I get it. Forget giving the boy a hand, he got a Happy Meal instead!

Yay for dry undies! Yay for Happy Meals! Yay for fries!

Most of all, a double yay for my big boy Bubby!

Holiday question of the day:

What are the ingredients of your favorite holiday beverage?

Conflicting wishes

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Bubby visited Santa over the weekend. Last year, he clung to Daddy and refused to enjoy his time with Mr. Magical himself. This year, though, he did much better:

Despite being nervous about the visit -- hence the hand in the mouth -- Bubby did okay. He even managed to tell Santa what he wants for Christmas.

And what may that be?

A big orange truck!

Which comes as a surprise considering Bubby, as some of you may recall, already has a big orange truck: (BLOG REDESIGN DELETED THE VIDEO.)

I suppose at two-and-a-half-years-old, when you love something dearly, you have no qualms requesting more of the same.

Hopefully Bubby will forget all about having asked for a big orange truck once he sees all the other loot from Santa because I'm betting he won't find one under his tree come Christmas morning. One big orange truck is more than enough for one little boy.

Plus, I'm pretty sure poor Roxy -- who's often the unintentional hit-and-run doggy victim of the big orange truck -- has been fervently asking Santy Paws to make all her Christmas dreams come true ... by getting rid of Bubby's big orange truck and never again allowing such tools of terror to be added to Bubby's toy collection.

Holiday question of the day:

What's one thing you're hoping to find under the tree for yourself on Christmas morning?

My dreams for my grandson

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These are my dreams for my grandson as he grows:

That he always shows gratitude, curiosity, strength, forgiveness.

That he exercises his body and mind in equal proportions.

That he laughs daily, with others, at himself.

That he loves himself, is proud of himself, treats himself kindly, compassionately.

That he shows kindness and compassion to others, to animals, to nature.

That he turns a deaf ear to intimidation and ignorance when it comes to thinking and doing what's good, what's right.

That he understands the value of patience, compromise, silence, restraint.

That he always loves learning ... and teaching.

That he uses his hands for hugging not hurting.

That he accepts responsibility.

That he does his part.

That he has -- and is -- a true and loyal friend.

That he makes time for silliness, pleasure, play.

That he appreciates and cultivates strong bonds with his siblings, from youth to old age.

That he embraces productivity and pursues careers that matter to him, to the world.

That always -- always -- people are more important to him than things.

That he keeps his word.

That home, family, tradition matter.

That he communicates -- in small ways, large ways and when it may not seem to matter ... but does.

That he never fails to see the beauty, the delightful, the admirable, the awesome.

That he never fails to see those less fortunate.

That he takes nothing for granted.

That his fears and nerves lead him to greatness not despair.

That he appreciates differences of opinion, culture, ideas.

That he has abundant supporters, cheering him on. When he can't hear them cheering, that he doesn't hesitate to cheer for himself.

That he finds a loving forever mate and together they create a loving forever family.

That he makes a positive difference in the world, be it as simple as a smile to a passing stranger or as complex as contributing to global change.

That he never breaks his mother's heart. Or his father's.

That he builds people up, not tear them down.

That he's slow to anger, quick to reason.

That he leads more than he follows, listens more than he speaks.

That his body, mind and soul stay strong, growing and bending but never breaking.

That he dances, sings, eats, enjoys, cries, giggles, dreams without worrying what others may think.

That he sets goals far and high and reaches them ... then goes beyond them.

That adversity makes him stronger not hopeless.

That he uses the words I will more often than I'll try or I can't.

That his heart is gentle and generous yet strong and resilient.

That he keeps an open mind.

That the words misogynist, racist, hateful, liar, addict, or bully are never used to describe him.

That he never, ever doubts he's loved.

That the love he gives in return is never in doubt.

That he travels.

That he dares.

That he excels.

That he lives.

That he depends on God's guidance, comfort, forgiveness, love always, in all ways.

That all who touch his life help make these dreams a reality.

More importantly, that he makes these dreams a reality. Plus every single dream of his own.

Holiday question of the day:

If you could give one gift that can't be wrapped -- the realization of a dream, goal, wish, trait -- to one person, what would you give and to whom would you give it?

This post linked to:

Sharin' the love

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While Jim, Brianna, Andrea and I drove to the airport last Wednesday, Megan and Preston visited the doctor to find out the sex of their new baby.

While Jim, Brianna, Andrea and I sat at the gate waiting for departure, Megan and Preston sent us several goofy text messages announcing that Baby No. 2 will be a boy.

While Jim, Brianna, Andrea and I were visiting Megan and Preston -- and Bubby -- for Thanksgiving, we all wondered aloud now and then how Bubby will fare once he has a little brother with whom he must share everything. Well, mostly everything.

Of top concern was how Bubby will fare sharing the attention of those who love and adore him. For in the short three days we were there for the Thanksgiving holiday, Bubby was the star attraction, the one and only recipient of lots of loving.

He got love and attention from Gramma.

And (he of the great ear handles) PawDad.

(Great) Grandpa Wes.

And GiGi (Great Grandma).

Aunt B gave lots of loving.

As did Aunt Andie.

Even Mister Scott (of haircutting fame) dished out giggle-inducing attention.

Naturally, he's Daddy's little super star (and chief ear-holder).

And pre-Turkey Trot Mommy's good luck charm and more.

So with a baby brother on the way, my question is this: With all that love and attention dished out by Bubby's many admirers, would it be best for us all to taper off the adoration a tad now, in preparation for Bubby soon having to learn how to graciously share?

Or do we dish out even bigger portions now, making the most of these relatively few final months before Bubby becomes forever more a big brother, with a little brother getting his fair share (possibly even a rather unfair share at first) of all the love and attention we have to dish out?

Today's question:

What do you think: Slightly taper off the attention now so Bubby doesn't have to go cold turkey OR smother the boy and spoil the heck out of him during his last days as the one and only?