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?)

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?

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.

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Today's question:

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

Jekyll, Hyde and Bubby

Bubby's mom, Megan, was an incredibly moody and sensitive child, the most senstive of my three daughters.

Based on our latest Skype visit with Bubby, seems that Megan's finally getting paid back for all she put her parents through.

From the heights of happiness to the depths of despair, I think Bubby covered it all in our 20-minute visit. All the while. Megan just shook her head, saying, "Yep, he's two."

He's not just two, Megan. He's just like you!

Today's question:

What question would you like to see asked of Grandma's Briefs readers?

My greatest fears as a grandma

The role of grandma is supposed to be an easy one. Mom and Dad cover all the hard work – changing dirty diapers, teaching table etiquette, instilling a sense of right and wrong – leaving Grandma to do nothing but have fun with the little ones.

That’s how it’s supposed to be, right? But that’s not how it really is. At least not when you’re a grandma with the middle name of “Worrywart.” I worried (and continue to worry) endlessly as a mother, and you can bet your sweet bippy the fretting hasn’t let up just because I’ve moved on to motherhood’s second act.

Here for your amusement – or commiseration – are ...

My nine greatest fears as a grandma:

1. Bubby will love his other grandma more than he loves me.

2. I’ll always be a long-distance grandma, with no opportunity for my loved ones to drop in unexpectedly for dinner, to view my grandson’s sporting events or school programs, or to even be the backup plan when the little one is sick and Mom and Dad can’t wriggle out of work.

3. Something bad will befall Bubby.

4. Something bad will befall Bubby's parents.

5. Bubby will think I’m boring.

6. Bubby will think I’m weird.

7. Bubby will think I’m the greatest thing since LEGOs and garbage trucks and run away from home to live with me.

8. The one and only grandson I have now will always and forever be my one and only grandchild.

9. Bubby will be worn down – lose his vim, vigor, enthusiasm and endless curiosity – by the realities of life as he grows.

Bubby is just two years old at this point; I’m sure my fears and worries will become more concrete, more serious, more scary as he grows. For now, though, these nine are enough to keep me on my toes during the day, keep me awake on certain nights. For now, these nine frazzle me just fine.

Today's question:

How about you? Is “Worrywart” your middle name, too? What's your greatest fear -- as a grandma or otherwise?