Little (non)sucker

I have never known a baby who doesn't know how to suck. More specifically, how to suck a binky. Until now.

Baby Mac doesn't know how to suck a pacifier, how to keep a pacifier in his mouth. It's not for lack of wanting to suck as he's constantly looking for something to pacify himself, constantly seeming like the only thing that would soothe him is the magical plug that worked so well on his brother. 

And it's definitely not for lack of trying on Megan and Preston's part; they have clearly offered more than a few styles of binky to their baby:

Being the all-knowing mother and grandmother I've convinced myself I am, I figured that Megan and Preston were just suckers for the newfangled fancy binkies and all Baby Mac needed were the old kind, the real kind.

So yesterday I bought him a pack of the old-time bulbous pacifiers. The ones my girls grew up on, the ones they loved, the ones that required no training on how to keep the darn things in their mouths.

See the white and blue old-timey pacifier to the far right in the photo above? That's Gramma's addition to the binky collection. Gramma's addition that was rebuffed, just like all those newfangled ones Mommy and Daddy had tried before.

Seems Gramma's a sucker, too, right along with Mommy and Daddy.

Baby Mac, on the other hand, clearly is not.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

I'm a sucker when it comes to ______________.

Photographs and memories

You surely can tell from this blog that I love to take photos of my grandsons. As a long-distance grandma, I take advantage of the times we have together in many ways, but a priority always involves stocking up on lots of shots of memorable moments during our visits.

Often, though, I don't have my camera on hand for some of the most memorable moments of all. For example, when bedraggled Mommy Megan and the boys first came into view at the airport, Bubby beelined it for Gramma. As I picked him up, he held me tight and said, "I missed you so much." It was and likely always will be one of my all-time favorite moments with him, yet not one accompanied by a photo.

Another memorable-but-not-recorded moment was when Bubby and I sat in the hot tub together. Although I did take pictures of the experience—and had Megan take a few, too—the funniest, surely most memorable moment of all was when I was putting the camera down. I stood up out of the hot tub and leaned over the edge to put my camera in a safe, dry place. When I turned back around to sit once again next to Bubby, he wore a huge grin from ear to ear and looked guilty as all get-out. For what, I didn't know. Until I began to sit. Bubby giggled and told me, "I said 'that's Gramma's big booty patooty'!" Apparently Bubby got a giggle-worthy shot of his own as Gramma leaned over the edge.

I've mentioned before that Bubby and I like to have dance parties of a sort when we're together. During the most recent visit he and Baby Mac made to our house, the dance party was larger than usual, made especially memorable with the addition of Baby Mac in my arms. I bopped with Baby Mac as Bubby rolled with Rock Dog. Another moment not caught on film.

The day before our house guests were scheduled to leave, I mentioned to Bubby that he'd be heading home the next day. "But I want to stay here," he said. I told him that he couldn't do that because his friends were all at home, and he had to go to school. "But I can go to school here," he said. My heart melted at the idea that Bubby was willing to give up his beloved friends and great times at school in favor of staying at Gramma's.

Similarly, the day Bubby and Mommy were packing up the luggage, Bubby passed me in the hallway and woefully told me, "I will miss you so much." A second mention to match the first when he arrived, sweet sentiments to bookend the visit.

Those sentiments and other equally memorable moments may not have been captured in photos, but they're definitely imprinted on my heart. Which makes them longer lasting and not likely to ever fade.

Today's question:

What recent moment(s) for you were not caught on film but imprinted on your heart?

The other half of my story

The infrequent visitor to Grandma's Briefs might get the impression I have only one grandson because a large number of my posts are about Bubby, my first grandson. That impression would be incorrect, though, and only half my grandma story. I do indeed have two grandsons.

I write about my first grandson far more than I write about my second grandson because my second, Baby Mac, doesn't do a whole lot yet except look cute. But he is pretty darn good at that one thing he does:

Okay, I suppose I should stop being a big, fat, lying grandma and tell the truth here. Baby Mac really does do more than just that one thing he does so well. He also keeps Megan awake most of the night. He poops up a storm. He loves and adores his big brother. And he continues to be a world-class storyteller at the age of four months:

That little storyteller is the other half of my grandma story—which makes for one pretty awesome whole.

Today's question:

Who is one of your favorite storytellers—be it a friend, family member, writer, speaker, etc?

What Gramma has learned so far

We're a little over halfway through the visit with Bubby, Baby Mac, and Megan, and there's quite a bit this grandma has learned in just the few days we've had together so far:

1. Amusement park rides really are not a thing of Gramma's past, as she's willing to ride anything and everything her grandson wants to go on, no matter how high or scary or rickety it may be. As long as said grandson is the right height, of course.

2. That said, three in a row is definitely Gramma's limit for rides that go round and round and round and round...riding or watching.

3. Bribery and providing dipping and covering options of any and every sort—from ketchup to chocolate to peanut butter, syrup, and more—will not make a child eat if he or she doesn't want to eat.

4. Driving 45 minutes and paying $.55 per pound for a warty pumpkin picked from the field really is worth it after all.

5. Gramma is willing to fork out $.50 to squish a penny and have it marked with a tourist stamp.

6. Baby GloWorms aren't just for babies.

7. When a child sneezes in the hot tub while sharing it with Gramma, said Gramma is not above using her bare hand to clear the child's face of green snot before it lands in the water, no matter how squeamish and disgusted she previously would have been by such a thing.

8. Sometimes schedules don't matter at all.

9. Sometimes a clear floor, bath tub, kitchen counter, couch, and bed don't matter at all, especially when it's boys' toys and baby stuff keeping things cluttered.

10. Sometimes stats, emails, tweets, status updates, and Klout don't matter at all, either, especially when it's boys and baby matters keeping Gramma from the computer.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

What I've learned so far this week is ______________.

This post linked to Grandparent's Say It Saturday.

The Grandma Bag demystified

As some of you may know—because I've written about it here and here—I get a kick out of looking at the search terms that lead folks to Grandma's Briefs. Nearly every time I check those queries, there's one variation or another of the question, "What's a grandma bag?"

To answer that, dear inquiring minds and those who didn't read about it the first time, I offer you The Grandma Bag demystified...at least as it applies to my Grandma Bag.

My grandma didn't have a Grandma Bag, only a purse. Same for the grandmas of my children, my mother and mother-in-law. So I had never heard of a Grandma Bag until right after Bubby was born, when Megan, a teacher, mentioned how sweet it was to hear one of her students tell about the magical tote "Grammie" brought along on her visits.

If I remember correctly, seems that particular Grammie visited her granddaughter's class at one point and explained to Megan exactly what her ever-enchanting Grandma Bag was. The story was that Grammie's Grandma Bag was a tote filled with fun things to do with her grandchildren during her visits. Everything in the bag arrived with Grammie...and went home with Grammie when she left. Because of the short period available for enjoying them, all the activities inside maintained their magic and charm from one visit to the next.

The granddaughter's delight in her Grammie's Grandma Bag appealed to Megan, and she mentioned it to me in that offhand kind of way that carries the not-so-subtle idea that "You really oughta do this, Mom." So I did. I searched through my pile of purses, backpacks, and such that I can't seem to part with and found a floral bag I used way back in the day to tote travel goodies in the car while trekking here and there with Jim and the girls. It did indeed look like a Grandma Bag, if ever I'd seen one (which I hadn't, but you get the idea).

Then I started gathering things to pack in my Grandma Bag for its inaugural visit to Bubby. He was around two-years-old when I decided he was likely mature enough to marvel at the items within my Grandma Bag. My Grandma Bag—then and now—always features the following items to share while visiting, then pack back into my bag to take home with me:

• Picture books, of course.

• Craft activity ideas, and the supplies for execution.

• Movies. Mostly Disney movies I'm sure Bubby hasn't seen.

• Color crayons and color books.

• Construction paper, scissors, glue stick.

• Long, brightly colored pipe cleaners. (A recent addition, thanks to a suggestion from Grandma Lizzie.)

In addition to those standards, I always throw in a few unexpected goodies—changing with Bubby's age and interests—such as:

• Play-Doh activities.

• Snow...which Bubby never sees in the desert. Not real snow, but the artificial awesomeness known as Snow in Seconds. (Which, believe it or not, has never caused a ruckus of even the slightest sort with the TSA.)

• My apron so we can each wear our kitchen coverings when baking or cooking up the recipes I also included in my bag.

• CDs for a dance party.

• Dinosaur eggs.

One key to the Grandma Bag is to add far more than you think you'll ever get around to using during a visit. Just like packing far more clothes than you'll wear, the idea is to have options.

The Grammie who first introduced me, by way of Megan, to the Grandma Bag supposedly didn't leave any of the goodies from her bag with the kids when she returned home. I go against that Grandma Bag rule and do leave something, sometimes a couple things, especially when it's an item I'm sure Bubby will have outgrown by the next time I see him. Or if it's an edible treat of some sort. Or a Matchbox car he'll adore. Okay, so I always have something in my Grandma Bag that I know will be left with my grandson.

That's the great thing about the Grandma Bag, though: It contains whatever you want it to, used in whatever way will delight your grandchildren. I can assure you if your grandkids are like Bubby, that anything and everything you pull from your Grandma Bag will be a crowd pleaser.

I say crowd because even though I currently have only one grandson who gives a hoot about what's in my Grandma Bag, as Baby Mac is far too small for it to matter at this point, others in the crowd—meaning me—are pleased as can be at Bubby's smiles and anticipation each and every time he and I prepare to pull another item, another activity from Grandma's Bag.

I once was told by a supervisor that the best ideas are stolen ideas, tweaked to become our very own. Right or wrong as that may be, I must admit that stealing the idea of a Grandma Bag is one of the best ideas I've ever nabbed, then made my own.

I encourage you to do the same: Steal this idea! Then go for the grandma gusto and make it your very own.

Today's question:

What did your grandma share with you—from a Grandma Bag or not—when she visited?

Imagine that

Life in the desert—where Bubby and Baby Mac live—is a wee bit different from life in the mountains—where I live and where Bubby and Baby Mac's mommy grew up. For one thing, it's often too hot in the desert in the summer time for kiddos to play outside. Seriously too hot. As in Extreme Heat Warnings from the National Weather Service hot.

That certainly doesn't mean, though, that there's no fun to be had.

When temps get too hot and high in the desert, folks simply take the fun indoors. They forego sizzling playgrounds and descend upon indoor play areas instead. Air-conditioned play areas.

One of Bubby's favorite indoor play centers is called Imagination Avenue. We visited last week, and he certainly exercised his imagination while there.

He imagined himself as a policeman, a fireman, a doctor, a grocery shopper.  

He also baked cookies and cupcakes, worked puzzles, played school. And he built houses and boxes and a tunnel for taking a break from the workout.

With so much to do and the myriad imaginative options to explore, the fact we couldn't play outside no longer mattered one single bit. Not to Bubby, not to Megan, not to me.

Not even to Baby Mac.

Imagine that!

Today's question:

What is your favorite indoor activity on hot summer days?

Tall tales and tag clouds

I started Grandma's Briefs more than two years ago primarily to share all things Bubby. What he is, what he does, and what he says. If you take a look at the sidebar to the right, you'll see in the "I write about" tag cloud near the bottom that the largest word there—meaning the word that gets the most play, gets tagged most often here on the blog—is, of course, Bubby.

Grandma's Briefs was all about Bubby because Bubby was my only grandchild.

Then along came Baby Mac. And because I'm now just as enamored with him as I was (and continue to be) with Bubby, there's a whole lot of catching up to do to get the size of Mac's name in the Grandma's Briefs tag cloud anywhere near the size of Bubby's.

To do that, I need to, just as I did with Bubby, write many a post on all he is, all he does, and all he says.

"You can write all about what he is and what he does," you may be thinking, "but Baby Mac, at two-and-a-half-months old, surely isn't saying anything yet."

And that right there is where I'd have to stop you and say, "Au contraire, dear readers and think-out-louders. For my little Baby Mac is indeed saying a whole lot more than most might imagine."

In fact, Baby Mac is quite the story teller. Just listen to this tale of happiness—sprinkled with a wee bit of woe—he dished out just for his captivated Gramma:

See what I mean? With so much to say, it won't take long for Baby Mac's name to inch closer and closer to the size of Bubby's. Sure, Bubby will naturally always be larger; it's one of the perks of being my firstborn grandchild, I suppose.

But I can imagine Mac will soon outsize grandparenting—and he'll be giving Grilled Grandmas a run for their money in no time.

Today's question:

If you were to share the story of your weekend, would it be a tale of adventure, woe, happiness, serendipity, or sloth?